Title: Underground

Author: Silver Queen

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Not all stories have happy endings. A story from Gotham's underground.

Disclaimer: I don't own the DC universe, nor the rights to any type of drug used in this story. MDT, as far as I'm aware, is not an actual drug. Apologies if it is.

Authors notes: Sorry about the delay in getting this up, but the 'changes' at wouldn't let me load it, or something.

Running through the near deserted streets of Bludhaven, the purse-snatcher wasn't expecting the attack. His victim's cries were fading as he lost her and the few people on the streets paid him no heed – his kind was far too common to be of interest.

So the big, black blur that knocked him flat came as a total surprise. He wasn't even able to put up a token resistance.

Nightwing removed the purse from the stunned thief's grasp as the man lay on the sidewalk. Had this been Gotham he would have called the police, but in Bludhaven it was useless to do so; the police took hours to get anywhere.

A lady turned the corner, following the same path that the would-be-robber had taken moments before. No doubt she was the owner of the purse in his hand.

"This belong to you ma'am?" He asked politely as she took in the scene. In response she snatched the dangling accessory and high-tailed it back around the corner at a speed he would have been hard pressed to match.

"Thank you, Nightwing," he mocked, his voice higher and lighter than usual. "You have my undying gratitude, Nightwing."

"Talking to yourself, shortpants? That's the first sign of madness, you know," Barbara Gordon's voice rang in his ear, via Oracles communications system.

"Only the first sign, Babs? No need to worry then," he replied cheerfully while scaling the building beside him. "I passed that a while ago."

"So you did, so you did," she agreed, laughing at their customary banter. "How could I have forgotten that?"

"I don't know." He gave a theatrical sigh. "Maybe to make sure you don't forget again I'll have to pay you a visit and … remind you." Had she been present he would have accompanied the suggestion with a leer and wiggling eyebrows, but Oracle was safely holed up in Gotham Clocktower so he had to let his words work alone.

She laughed and Nightwing swung over the rooftops, searching for any other nightly mayhem to keep him busy.

"Yeah, yeah, FBW. Had a nice night?" she asked and Nightwing was instantly on guard. Whatever was coming next couldn't be good for him.

"It's been okay," he replied cautiously. "Nothing big."

"Well then," she said, her digitized voice amused. "It's a good thing I called." There was a pause and Nightwing waited for her to finish. "Penguin's sending a shipment over to Bludhaven. Get your ass over to the docks; ETA's in 20 minutes." She cut the line and Nightwing grumbled.

"Har, har. You just have to keep me on my toes, don't you Babs?" The docks were on the other side of the city and it would take him eighteen minutes to get there if he didn't stop for anything.

As it turned out he did stop – three attempted muggings – but he wasn't too late. Or if he was it didn't matter because the shipment was even later.

"This is it?" he asked dubiously, holding up a small plastic bag. In it there were roughly a hundred pills; a tiny amount for such elaborate trafficking.

"Looks like it, shortpants," Oracle said sounding equally frustrated. No amount of searching had turned up anything else. Even the guards, while not being particularly smart, had sworn that that bag was all there was. "I'll send Robin around to pick it up. Maybe a few tests'll show what's so important about those little pills."

"Nah, don't bother. Let the kid get some sleep." Nightwing checked his watch, hidden under the sleeve of his glove so it wouldn't get broken. "I'll stop by the clock tower soon. There's not much else to do here."

"All right," Babs agreed. "But take care."

"Hey!" Nightwing feigned hurt. "When am I not careful?"

Please reveiw!