Well, yeah, never quote me about posting. I am sorry for the delay and the fact my "I'll post every three-five days" went out the window. Real life took a nice swift kick at me and landed solidly. I've been dealing with that and, by doing so, haven't felt up to editing and whatnot. But I'm back. I head back to school (last 6 months!) in about 4 days, but hope to keep the parts coming regularly.

I now have to give a great big shout-out to my new beta, Velta. She's been wonderful so far and I know I she's helped to improve this story.

Finally, Dick, who shows up here for the first time, is in his own little limbo world. I'm throwing the comics out the window for him and, currently, he is simply Nightwing in Bludhaven being a happy camper.

Lastly, notes/disclaimer in part one.

…

Masquerade:

Part Three

…

It had been twenty-four hours since his son had gone missing and now that the initial anger had passed, Jack Drake found himself in enough control to make his way over to Wayne Manor. He was well aware, after his last encounter with Bruce, that he didn't stand a chance going against the man physically, and so he had to approach the subject of Tim with as much calm as he could muster. All in all, it wasn't much. Jack ambled up the steps, took a deep breath and pounded away at the hard, though beautiful, wooden door. Almost immediately, Alfred's calm and composed face came into view.

"Where's Wayne?" Jack growled, finding that his calmness passed before it even made itself truly known. He was no longer certain if it was only anger that drove him or perhaps fear was pressing him. A small part of Jack wished that he'd never found out what his child had been doing at night and he remained blissfully worried only about drugs and sex. Now, all he could picture was his son being held captive by one of the many psychos that roamed Gotham's streets. It was this terrifying feeling of not knowing what had befallen Tim that cause Jack's anger to over take him.

Alfred, for his part, was unflustered by the Jack's harsh demand. The gentlemen's gentlemen opened the door wider allowing Jack access to the mansion. "He is in the study and I shall tell him you are here. May I inquire what this is about?"

Jack bit out a response. "You know damn well what this is about."

"Very good, sir." Alfred said kindly, while moving to get Bruce.

Jack didn't have to wait long for Bruce to show. Both men stared at each other from across the rather vast hallway.

"Where's my son?" Jack asked and received an answer right away: "I don't know."

Jack was the first to move forward. "The hell you don't! Where do you have him running off to? Who is he fighting? I want him back now." Bruce kept his face impassive, but inside was seething at the word-choice Jack used towards his son. He sounds like Tim's a lost piece of luggage, Bruce thought.

"I can't tell you what I don't know."

The older man stepped up to Bruce's face and put a finger against the taller man's chest.

"I will go public," he threatened. "I warned you before and I was placated then because my son gave up this ridiculous charade. But now I am not so easy to make happy. I want you to contact my son now."

Bruce looked down at the finger on his chest thinking of all the ways he could break that single digit. Moving his gaze back to Jack, the younger man narrowed his eyes making certain that Jack understood how serious he was.

"I want you to believe me, I have not had contact with your son since you both were here. I do not know where he is."

Jack opened his mouth, no doubt to yell more at Bruce, when Alfred entered.

"I do not mean to interrupt, but Mrs. Drake is rather insistent she talk to Mr. Drake."

Jack turned to the butler. "Tell her I'll call her back," he hissed out angrily.

Alfred still kept his calm and spoke. "She seems rather distraught. I would recommend speaking with her. After that, I am certain, Mr. Wayne will continue the conversation."

Jack cursed under his breath, but nodded to Alfred and followed the butler into the kitchen. Bruce stood alone and waited a minute before removing a small black phone from his pocket. Hitting a single button, Bruce waited till the other person picked up and a rather muffled voice answered.

"Mmmpff?"

"Try words, Dick."

There was a clatter on the other end and a few curses before Dick spoke again.

"Why are you calling me now?"

"Is Tim there?"

There was a moment of silence before Dick answered. "Are you serious? I haven't seen him since, well, you know."

Bruce mentally sighed. He'd been hoping Tim simply had enough of his father and needed to escape. Dick and Bludhaven was the first place Bruce could think of. However, that appeared to be a dead-end and now Bruce had to wait till Jack returned.

Dick's voice broke the older man out of his reverie. "What's going on?"

Bruce spared a glance at the kitchen. "I think Tim may be in over his head with his father."

…

Jack grabbed the phone from Alfred without a word.

"Hello?"

"Jack? Oh Jack, it's terrible."

Jack gripped the phone tighter. "What is it?

Dana's voice continued to hitch with repressed sobs. "There's a note on our door. Someone's taken Tim!"

Jack felt his knees go weak as he listened to Dana sob over the phone. Someone had taken his son and, with a shiver of fear, Jack had a pretty good idea who it was.

There is always something you can lose.

As if someone had turned on a light in his head, Jack knew (somehow undoubtedly knew that Gardenee had taken his son. This wasn't about Robin or about Batman, but instead was about Tim Drake. Jack closed his eyes and held the phone tighter.

"Dana...Dana honey, I'm going to be home in a few minutes, but first I have to ask Bruce one more thing."

"Jack, what's going on?"

The older man pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know," he lied, but seeing no other option. "I'll be home soon. Just sit tight and keep your eyes open in case anything else is dropped off."

"I'll...I'll see you soon then."

Jack hung up the phone and simply stared at it. What had he done? This was his fault. But, Jack thought looking back towards the hallway he just came from, he could fix this; he had to fix this. And, after all, the world's greatest detective was a merely a room away.

…

Tim had grown sick of just sitting in the room and uselessly trying to figure out what his dad had to do with all this. Right now, he really needed to do something and to get himself freed. The only problem was the detective inside of him refused to leave without knowing more about what was going on. Hal all but said that Jack was involved in this whole ordeal. The question was, how was he involved? Tim entertained the thought that his dad was behind the kidnapping for all of about two seconds and then realized that was just ridiculous. His dad may have been upset, okay down right angry, with him these the last two months, but never would he have done this. The teenager was obviously the pawn in some larger game involving his father, but that was as much as he could assume. So, the teenager needed the truth that he'd never get from his father out of these two men who were holding him captive.

Therefore, Tim made a plan. He would play the terrified victim some more and hope one of the men would slip up. If that didn't happen, then he would play a more active role. He couldn't do much without his old utility belt, but he could still do enough. If playing the victim didn't work then he would play the aggressive negotiator.

…

Jack left the kitchen feeling as if his stomach had dropped to his feet. His son had been kidnapped and Jack all but knew who took him. Now, as any father would do, Jack was going to get help for his son. In fact, the best help there was.

Jack found Bruce standing just where he had left him. The two men stood worlds apart save for the one young man in their lives that they shared. Jack swallowed and hoped Bruce truly cared for his son as much as Tim cared for Bruce.

"Timothy has been kidnapped and I think it was by Mike Gardenee."

Bruce stared at Jack and furled his brows. "Why do you think that?"

The older man felt his face flush. "I owe him money," he almost whispered.

Bruce knew there was only one reason why someone owed Gardenee money and, thinking this, he could only shake his head at the man Jack Drake had become. It certainly was a different person than he had known almost twenty years ago.

"I'll look into Mike and see what I can find. I want you to go home to Dana and call Alfred with any news you receive. Leave the police out of it for now."

And with that, Jack left feeling very worthless, and yet, some how comforted by the fact Bruce would take care of things on his end. Tim had come between Bruce and Jack, and now, it seemed like he would somehow bring them together.

Bruce waited until Jack left before calling Alfred back in.

"Does Tim have any tracking devices left on him?"

Alfred, who "accidentally" had listened in, answered, "I believe he still has one in the watch we gave him for his birthday."

Bruce nodded and headed to the Cave in hopes of finding his young ex-partner.

…

Jack returned home a mere twenty minutes after talking to Dana. His wife met him at the door to their apartment and instantly he knew something else had occurred. Dana bit her lip as she watched Jack get closer.

"What happened?" Jack asked once he stood in front of her.

Without a word, the younger woman handed her husband a small box. Jack could tell that Dana had looked inside and due to her current state, he wished he didn't have to know what the box held. But, his son was missing and he had to find him, so with a determined squaring of his shoulders, Jack opened the box.

Inside sat a small silver Rolex watch. Instantly, Jack recognized the aqua-green face. Flipping it over, he saw the inscription he knew was there.

"To Timothy. Happy Sixteenth Birthday. Love Bruce, Dick and Alfred."

The watch had been an unwelcome birthday gift from the Waynes at a time that Jack could hardly afford frivolous gifts. Tim loved it and wore it religiously. Of course, that was before Jack knew the intimate secrets of Bruce and now the obsession with the gift made sense. Tim looked up to Bruce as an idol and any gift from him had to make his son's day. Apparently, Tim had quite the love for his surrogate family.

Pushing these angering thoughts aside, Jack took out the small slip of paper that sat in the box. Written on it was a simple message:

"We have your son. He is currently unharmed and will remain that way so long as you pay the known price in forty-eight hours. After that time, I cannot guarantee your son's safety. If you go to the police, he will be killed. MG"

Jack felt his knees go weak and slowly he lowered himself to the ground. Dana watched her husband and followed him to the ground.

"Who is MG and why does he have Tim?"

Jack looked at his wife, knowing all the secrets that now existed between them could easily tear them apart. Secrets had already torn him away from his son and now threatened Tim's life. With new resolve, Jack knew it was time to stop lying to his family, starting with his wife.

"There's a lot I have to tell you," he confessed as he stood. "We should go inside." The weariness that had afflicted Jack only moments before was replaced with a mission. Dana would know all the secrets that had been created and together, with the help of Bruce, they would find their son.

After that, they would fix everything and they could finally be a family.

TBC...