"Kori, I know I shouldn't interrupt you while you're taking care of some case or other, but it's about Vic." Dick knew that one of the few allowed interruptions was mentioning a close friend.

"I'm not on duty. It's fine. Besides, I have the feeling your gossip is more entertaining than sorting through office scuttlebutt for leads."

He smiled, because she couldn't see the expression to ask why. She'd come a long way from a lost alien, and now the internal homicide investigator threw slang around like anyone,any small faux pas in everyday speech attributed to the foreign customs of some tiny European nation. "Vic saw Jenny at a restaurant, and they both looked pretty interested. Gar said there were some serious pheromones, and he is the expert. So, what's the chances?"

Kori rolled her chair away from a crowded desk. She technically wasn't on duty, but this was personal. Someone in the department was more than likely misappropriating information. "Not good. Jenny goes out with anyone- just dinner, the farthest ever gotten is a kiss. She takes herself home in a cab. She won't make a move, he's too nice to ask a second time for another date. Stalled."

"Any hope?"

"At the moment? None. He's given up- his chances are better than most, but way too close to zero. He's more obsessed with finding Morrigan. She's that assassin I told you about. Short, pretty, fond of knives? She has another hit on her list. Broad daylight, this time with a witness. A man she was following tried to mug a woman at gunpoint. She stabs pressure points."

He knew what she wanted. "I'll ask around, as both." Dick Grayson of the Wayne Foundation and Nightwing of Bludhaven had different contacts. "I could always ask Oracle. If she doesn't know, look around for the riders of the Apocalypse. She always has something."

"Thanks. Oh- could you pick up milk? We're running out, and I'm already working late."

He laughed. "Sure, Kori. Later. Bye." He hung up, wondering at their conversations. From murderous vigilantes to mundane milk- well, it was normal to him. Gar was gone, after taking a cab. But- if Kori was at work, where was Raven?

"Rae? Where are you? I'm at home with dinner. You're not here." He heard someone talking in the background on her end of the line.

"DA's office. I volunteered for a new case. I'm speaking with a victim in four minutes."

"Rae, are you mad at me?"

He couldn't see a rather disturbing look on her face that caused some underling (below a pro bono prosecutor that picked and chose her cases) to back away quickly. "No. What ever gave you that idea?"

"I- well- um- nothing."

"That's why you called? I did leave a message on your cell phone."

"Erm." Very eloquent- way to go, Gar.

"Glad to hear you're your usual articulate self. My client's here early. Good night. I'll be in late."

"Night."

He barely had time for the syllable before the loud click of a disconnected phone line. He dialed a number, crossing his fingers. "Vic?"

"Yeah? Gar? I'm en route to make an arrest. Is this important?" Vic sounded calm, but Gar could hear screeching tires. Mare was in pursuit of a fleeing suspect, and had nearly killed four pedestrians too slow or too stupid to get out of the way.

"I think Rae's mad at me, but she won't even give me that much."

Duh. "Why would she be?"

"I don't know. I-"

"Hold on a second- there's a call on my other line." Vic punched a button. It was on his arm, but that was his usual phone. Mare, engrossed (thankfully) in the chase, only rolled her eyes. "Hello?"

"Vic, you're arresting the suspect for a four thirty-nine?"

"Yes, we're chasing the 439 suspect right now. Running only makes him look worse in court, but they always think they'll get away, when we have plates, pictures, and positive name-based I.D. picked out of a hundred mug shots."

"Get him, please. A warrant is on its way for a full search of his premises. Check the compartment under the back left seat for the bench in the back. The cushion won't set right near the back. Inside, you'll find either evidence or where there were a few pretty incriminating things. I'm with the victim now. She's prosecuting."

"Got it, Rae." He didn't bother waiting for a closing formality. Raven was already speaking to her guest. He hung up her line, getting back to the other line. "Gar? I can't talk right now. We are on the tail of a suspect- literally. We'll talk later, okay?"

"Understood." Beast Boy disconnected, dialing a new number. Maybe Kori would take pity on him. "Kori?"

"Gar! Nice to hear from you." Kori guessed she wouldn't be getting any work done for the night. Well, she wasn't on the books.

"Is Rae mad at me?"

"You're asking me? Ask Raven."

"I did. She hung up, quasi-politely."

"Why?" Starfire asked, spinning hair around a finger. Was Gar as slow as she guessed? She and Dick had never had this problem. They'd have several other issues, but not this.

"She's working on a case, but I think she's mad at me. I know she was talking to you for a while."

"Really?"

"Well, 'I'm going to see Kori' is a pretty good clue. Can I at least know if I'm in trouble? She's less in the habit of random outbursts, and hasn't thrown me out a window in about three years now, but you never know."

"Girl talk privileges mandate a short answer; no reasons, explanations, or ways to make up without physical or mental harm, as well as damage to reputation. You understand the terms, Gar?"

"Yeah."

"She's mad."

"She never said a word about the golf thing!" He waited.

"Nice try, Gar, but no hints. You're lucky to get that much. When she decides to tell you, you'll know."

"You won't reconsider?"

"No. Goodbye, Gar- I have the feeling that's all you wanted to ask."

"Well, yeah. We can catch up some other time. Bye, Kori."

"Bye, Gar."

He dialed a last number. "Dick? It's Gar. Do you know why Rae's mad at me, or could you get it out of Kori?"

"Let me try. Can you hold for a minute, Gar?"

"Sure."

Dick pressed a series of buttons while glancing at the time. He had a half hour before Nightwing usually started prowling Bludhaven. "Hey, Kori."

"No, hon, I won't tell you why Rae's mad at Gar." She smiled at his silence. "Yes, it's that obvious. Gar just called me, and you never call this close to prowl time unless there's an emergency. I was hoping, given the options, that this was about Gar."

"He's spazzing, Kori."

"Well, that's tough. Sometimes, girls just need girls to talk to. I told him that she was mad. That's all he needs." She glanced at her papers, seeing a pattern in the abstract series of facts. "I just had an idea, about my case. Call you later, 'kay?"

"I'll see you home, right?"

"That'll do. Love you."

"Love you."

"Happy hunting."

"Same to you, Kor." Dick decided to make one last effort. "Vic? It's Dick. It's about Gar."

"No way. Rae swore me to secrecy, and so did he, on a different point."

"Kori said sometimes girls just need girls to talk to."

"That's true. I'm the big brother- Rae's a sister, Gar's the annoying little brother none of us want to do without. I'm not part of the girl-talk. Wait- I have an idea. Next week, sometime- what am I saying? I need you. Tonight. The assassin, the one me and Kori are tracking. Morrigan. Could you get a few people she'd see as allies together, for a little girl talk?"

"You mean-"

"Catwoman, Poison Ivy, Harley- girls' night out with Morrigan. I know she and Batman are something, and she'd know you. Catwoman, I mean."

"You know what I'll end up doing to get said meeting to happen is illegal."

"Yeah."

"That no one can really know about it, except Mare."

"Yeah."

"You're asking me to use my connections as a superhero."

"Yes. As I recall, you've used my technology."

Dick paused. Victor had him, there. "I'll arrange something. Tonight, if at all possible."

"Thanks."

"No problem." Dick got back to Gar, leaving Vic to glare at the passenger in the backseat screaming about something not fit to print. "Guess what, Gar. There's one way to get out of your mess."

"How?"

"The old-fashioned way. Flowers, chocolates, and walking on eggshells. Good luck."

"Thanks," Gar muttered. "In case you haven't forgotten, this girl can and will throw me out the window of our third-floor apartment."

"Then you should turn into a bird."

"I'm getting no sympathy here, am I?"

"No."

"If I was there, I'd punch you."

"And hurt your hand, grass stain. There's one benefit of the telephone."

Dick had a final call to make, from the small device he kept from days as Robin and used fairly regularly. "Oracle? Can you hear me?" He was careful to not bring the OraCom too close to his mouth. She was irritable when people blasted through her speakers. Remembering the acoustics of the Batcave, he could hardly blame her.

"Loud and clear, Robin. Or is it Nightwing?"

"This is a secure channel, right?"

He could hear ruffled feathers. Oracle didn't even have feathers. "Of course it's secure. I made this thing from the ground up. What do you need?"

"A big favor, Babs. Dick to you, Richard to Barbara. I need to find Catwoman."

"What? Aren't you married?"

"Not like that, Babs. I need a favor from her, something only a bad girl can do. She's the villainess least likely to rip me to shreds, kill me with freaky poison, or go running to Joker. It's about the assassin in Gotham, Morrigan."

"I don't have much on the assassin. I have all police reports, but no clue where she gets her link about who's working for Slade. She knows before investigators. They find a body, they start looking for the link to Slade. And as for Catwoman, she's in your town."

"So, she's local?"

"I'll say. Bludhaven Museum of the Arts, and by the security cameras, she snuck in, piggy-backed their cams with some fancy trinket, and is fairly purring over the local collection of feline-themed artwork. She's local."

"Will people stop bringing that stuff near here?"

"Then she'd only go somewhere else, where the poor schmucks would never catch her."

"True. Thanks, Babs. I'll find her."

"You're welcome, Dick. Just- stop by, sometime. Maybe you could call me on the telephone. Do you even use one of those anymore?"

Dick remembered the many conversations he'd had that day, and laughed so she wouldn't hear (very well). "Yeah, Babs, I'd say I do. That all, Batgirl?"

"I'm not Batgirl anymore. Legs, remember?" After an encounter with the Joker, she was paralyzed from the waist down. That was when she had become the team's computer and information genius.

"You're always Batgirl. Besides, that's friendlier than Oracle, the Supreme All-Knowing Mysterious Woman."

"Who said I have to be friendly, when I could be Supreme?"

"Good point."

"Of course it is. I made it. Tim's calling me- on the phone. You know, to talk without the sole purpose of wrangling some piece of information or favor?"

"Telephone. Purely for the pleasure of conversation. I'll remember that, and pass it on to my friends."

"You do that. Over and out, 'Wing."

"Over and out, Oracle." Dick sighed when his cell phone let out its piercing shriek of a ring. Gar again, requesting details on flowers, chocolates, and phrases to be avoiding. With the air of a noble martyr, Dick spilled the secrets of not getting killed by a woman while keeping reproductive status intact.

Gar had a lot to learn, but Dick had learned from an alien. Vic had it easy- the girl he liked was a secretary. She wouldn't be the type to blast holes through walls or break glass. Of course, she probably didn't spend nearly as much time on the telephone. Dick only thought of one thing, even as he extolled the virtues of not buying low-fat ice cream to go with the I-made-it-myself-because-I-really-love-you cake. He thanked his lucky stars they all had unlimited nights and weekends. They'd need them, if this kept up- and there was no need to add a cell phone bill to all this trauma.