Bruce Wayne/Batman, Dick Grayson/Nightwing, Selina Kyle, Barbara Gordon, the Scarecrow, and all other important characters belong to DC Comics/Time Warner.
I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.

Rated PG : mild language; violence, some mature concepts.

Reviews are greatly appreciated.

Chiroptophobia

Disguises

- - -

Barbara sighed. Plant a bug in her father's phone. Right. Go to police headquarters, sweet-talk her way into his office and bug that too, just in case. Check. Eavesdrop on every conversation he had. Be a detective, catch a dangerous criminal, or at least help. Too bad she had never stopped to think about how colossally boring it is to spend most of one's time sitting around waiting for the phone to ring. Of course, she reflected with another sigh, probably if someone spied on her they'd be equally bored stiff.

And there was the possibility that she would overhear something personal, something that would invade his privacy... But by now she would almost be happy; anything to liven things up. If only he had some exciting but not too embarrassing secret... If he was a secret agent or an alien from outer space or a superhero in disguise... She smiled at the momentary vision of her father jumping out of his chair, whipping off his glasses, ripping his shirt open and shouting, "This is a job for Superman!"

And as if boring wasn't enough, it was also damn time-consuming. Wistfully she thought about the triple shifts of cops who would be doing the listening if the police were doing this. Yet another sigh was cut short as she heard the phone ring again in the earpiece she used to listen to transmissions from her bug. Then her eyes snapped wide open and she bolted upright in her chair as a dry, thin, papery voice spoke, a shiver down her spine telling her this was what she had been waiting for.

"Commissioner Gordon."

"Yes?" His voice sounded cautious.

"Are you prepared to deal with me?"

"What do you want?"

"Not money. Not from you. You have other things to offer."

"Like what exactly?"

"As Commissioner, you have power over the police. Authority that could make my life a little easier."

"Go on." Barbara inhaled. Her father would never make a deal like what the Scarecrow seemed to be suggesting. Would he?

"You could make sure that my men are not arrested. If they are, you could make sure that investigations go nowhere, that evidence is lost."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you will continue as you are. How much longer will you be Commissioner? Resistance will accomplish nothing; there are others who will assist me, and you will simply be out of the picture."

"Others? Like District Attorney Davis?" Gordon's voice was tight. "Is she willing to go along with your plan?"

"I will be in touch. Soon. Fear is a terrible burden, Commissioner. It can wear down even one of the finest. Perhaps you will have a change of heart and decide to be more - sensible."

"Wait!" A click ended the call. Barbara could hear her father's rapid breathing, before he hung up as well. Then, as she was about to pull the earplug out, she heard him dialing another number.

"Marion?"

A voice she recognized as the District Attorney's answered. "Jim? Nice to hear-"

"Has the Scarecrow contacted you?" he cut in.

"What...? Not since the note... Do you think he will?"

"Yes, I do. I just got off the phone with him. Damn, the bastard wants us to play along with him. Protect him, make sure he and his gang stay out of jail."

"What?" Her voice faltered. "I can't go along with that, Jim!"

"I don't expect you to. And neither will I."

"Then... what are we going to do about it?"

"Leave that to me. And don't worry. I don't need his damn antidote, and neither do you. We can beat this on our own."

Thoughts seemed to fly though Barbara's mind against a background of both pride in her father and fear for him as she listened to them say goodnight and hang up. She stood up, again considering calling the police in, and again discarding the idea. What would it accomplish? She was not eager to tell them she had planted an illegal wiretap on the Police Commissioner, who also happened to be their boss and her father. And she had no idea what he was up to. No, she was on her own in this, without even a way to contact Batman and Nightwing quickly.

Unless...

- - -

That's not Bruce, was Dick's first thought as the tap on his door was repeated. No, that half-hesitant knock couldn't be Bruce; he would have called first. Probably. Who else then? Not Alfred, he would definitely have called. No one else knew he had moved back into his old apartment, or even that he was back in Gotham.

Probably just someone going from door to door selling something, then. Dick considered just ignoring them, and then went to peer through the peephole. The face on the other side was female - framed by red hair - and very familiar. With an odd combination of dread and excitement churning his stomach, he opened the door.

They just stared at each other for a few seconds. Then... "Can I come in?" Barbara asked.

"Yeah, sure." He stood aside to let her enter, seeing her eyes lift to his as she passed and then dart quickly away. In the living room, she stood irresolutely. "Can I get you anything?" Dick asked, smiling at the ordinariness of his own question.

"No. Thanks."

"Um... I don't mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." She met his gaze directly this time. "Or I could ask where you've been for the last two years."

He shrugged. "Here and there. Nowhere in particular. How'd you know I was back?"

"Just a hunch. May I sit down?"

"If you can find a clean spot. I haven't had much chance to fix the place up."

Barbara looked the sofa over, brushed at it and sat down. As he took a seat in the one armchair she stared at him with that disconcerting directness again, but all she said was, "So then you haven't been back long."

"A few days."

"Why did you leave like that, without a word?"

She wasn't the only one who could confront things head-on. "You're the one who broke up with me, remember?"

"You didn't leave just because of me." She stated it as a fact.

"Well, no."

"You left a good job, too. And your home. Why?"

He shrugged again, suddenly wishing he hadn't opened the door. "It's something... It's personal."

"Personal... Okay." Her eyes fell, her expression unhappy.

"You haven't answered my question. Why did you come here?"

"You haven't answered mine, either." After the flash of annoyance, she took a deep breath. "I came because my dad's in trouble. Because I don't know what to do to help him. Because - because I'm afraid he might do something stupid."

Dick frowned at that, and asked quickly, "Stupid? What do you mean?"

"You know about what's happened to him. What the Scarecrow did." Again she stated it as a fact.

"Yeah," he said cautiously.

"Well, he and the DA - Marian Davis - are up to something." She twisted her fingers together nervously. "He won't tell me, but - I know what it's about."

"Well... what?"

"The Scarecrow has contacted Dad. He wants to make a deal. Cooperation in exchange for a cure. He wants Dad to make sure the police don't try too hard to stop him, and he probably wants Ms. Davis to make sure he and his men don't get prosecuted effectively."

"Man." Dick rubbed his chin. "Your father told you about it?"

"Well, not exactly. I - listened in when they talked."

"Listened in?"

"Yeah." She looked up, her expression both nervous and defiant. "I was afraid something like this would happen, and - that Dad wouldn't be thinking straight. So I bugged his phone. I heard everything when the Scarecrow called him a few hours ago."

"You bugged his phone."

"That's right."

Dick couldn't help it; he grinned. "Let me get this straight. You bugged the phone of the Police Commissioner of Gotham City."

"Yes. Both his private line at home and his office."

"Oh, man. Babs - you have hidden talents." He laughed and saw her finally smile in return. Their eyes met again - this time with more than a spark of the old warmth. That sobered him. "Um... so, why are you telling me all this?" he asked after a moment.

"Because - because then he called Ms. Davis and I heard them talking. Dad told her not to worry, and he would take care of it."

"Is he..." He stopped, unwilling to ask the question.

Barbara said it for him, in a very quiet voice, staring down at her hands which were clasped tightly again. "Is he planning to go along with the Scarecrow? Give in and do what he wants? I don't think so. It didn't sound like it. But I don't know what he's planning and if it - makes any sense."

"Yeah, I guess when you going through something like that, it's hard to think straight..." He trailed off as his thoughts inevitably turned to Bruce.

She nodded. "But the thing is, he insists he's better, ever since he talked to me and - and Nightwing about his dream. Says he can get through it on his own, without an antidote. Either he's lying, or fooling himself, or he really is better - but then, why the secrecy? He didn't say anything to me about that call."

"I don't know..." Dick frowned in thought. If Gordon didn't need the antidote, or thought he didn't - what else could he have in mind?

"It's true that people can get over phobias. But it takes time. Lots of time, to go through conditioning and therapy. On the other hand, this is an artificial phobia; who knows what could happen?" Barbara sighed. "I don't know what to think. I just want so much for him to be back the way he was."

After a moment of hesitation, Dick reached out and took her hand, feeling her fingers press his lightly. "I know your dad," he said gently. "He's a strong guy. I'm sure he knows what he's doing."

"I hope you're right."

"Is there anything else? Any idea when the Scarecrow is going to call again?"

"I don't know. I've told you everything he said." Barbara was watching him intently. "Whatever Dad intends to do - if Batman and Nightwing knew about this, maybe they could help..."

Dick's attention returned to her with a snap. "Batman and Nightwing?" he asked faintly.

"You heard me."

Again they stared at each other, hands still linked. Several possibilities of things to say flashed through Dick's mind. Denials. A laugh, a joke to make it seem ridiculous. Even just a shrug. But what he found himself saying was, "I have a feeling they'll find out."

"Good. Uh... Do you think Batman can handle it? I mean, since he has a problem, too?"

Again Dick found himself answering truthfully. "I don't know, but if anyone can do it, he can. And there's always Nightwing."

"Yes, there's always Nightwing..." She stood up quickly. "Well, I have to be going. Have to get back to Dad. I set up the equipment to record any calls, but I need to be there."

"Okay. If anything happens, call me." He caught up at the doorway, as she turned to glance back. For a moment they were standing close together, her face only a few inches away and tilted up to his. For that moment he wondered what she would do if he simply leaned forward and kissed her. And the moment passed.

"Welcome back to Gotham," she said in a small voice.

"Thanks. It's good to be back." And for the first time, he felt that it was true.

- - -

"Okay, just a few more steps... We're here."

Selina dropped her hand immediately from Marty's guiding arm. "Can I take off the blindfold yet?" she asked.

"Of course," a different voice answered. It sounded dry. Dusty, like brittle, crumbling paper.

With a quick gesture Selina pulled off the cloth that had been tied over her eyes. Only a glance showed her that she recognized the voice correctly; the Scarecrow, or rather Jonathan Crane, stood several feet away from her, dressed in normal clothes. A longer look around showed... what?

She, Marty, Danny, Crane, and a few unfamiliar men were standing on a flat concrete surface, in a pool of light cast by several harsh, uncovered bulbs hung against the only wall she could see. The ceiling was lost in the shadows above, but must be high. Several yards away, a line of columns was barely visible as it passed them and vanished into the darkness in both directions.

"Where is this?" she asked.

"First tell me why you wanted this meeting."

Selina returned her attention to the angularly thin figure in front of her. She smiled. "Maybe I figured any man who could frighten the great Batman is worth meeting."

"So is this a social call?"

"Not exactly." She took a step closer. "I've been - out of circulation for quite a while now. I'm looking for some action."

"With me?" His voice seemed amused, but something had crept into it that almost made her shiver as he closed the distance between them by another step. "You're as beautiful as I've always heard. How could I refuse such an attractive offer?"

Ugh. Never. But she kept a smile firmly on her face and put a seductive hint into her tone as she replied, "That's not exactly what I had in mind - at least not yet. I was thinking that maybe it's time I considered having a partner."

"A partner? And what would I get out of this - partnership?" Crane came closer still, paused, and then started to move around her.

Selina turned to keep him in view, still smiling as they circled each other slowly and warily. "Simple. You want the Batman out of your way. I want revenge for the years I spent in jail because of him. You've found a weakness in him - I know how to take advantage of it."

"In return for what?"

"Perhaps we can help each other. Is it true you've been giving people artificial phobias? Even Batman?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. It's true."

"And that you have an antidote that could make us - I mean you, of course - very rich?" She slid a sidelong glance at him, her lips curved.

"That also happens to be true." He had crossed his arms and was watching her with an amused expression.

"You're a brilliant man, I can see that. I like brilliant men, especially ones who have something so valuable."

"I've got bigger plans than extorting a little money here and there."

"How interesting... Maybe I could share in those plans, just in a small way, of course... I like to think I have a few talents of my own to offer..." She took another step, lowering her voice to a silky, intimate murmur. "I'd love to hear all about your plans. Maybe you can show me your fear drug, too, and the antidote, and maybe I can show you something..."

"You're a greedy little creature, aren't you?" He smirked at her.

"Who, me?"

"Oh, don't think it's a criticism. I like greed. I understand it. Like fear, I can use it for my own purposes."

"So - does that mean I'm in?" she asked, not trying to hide the eager gleam in her eyes.

"As I said, how could I refuse?" he murmured. "Yes, I have bigger plans indeed. First here in Gotham, and then, who knows? And you really want to be a part of it?"

"Who wouldn't?"

"You want revenge on Batman?"

"Yes."

"Hm. The big bad Bat has become rather a thorn in my side of late as well. I already have plans to remove that thorn, very soon. And if you wish to contribute... Why not? Perhaps we can do each other a favor after all." His smile again sent shivers down her spine. "How quickly can you change into that fetching catsuit of yours?"

- - -

Bruce heard the footsteps, recognized them as Dick's and didn't turn around. He kept his eyes on the mirror before him, on his own costumed and masked form. At last, he could look on it without fear.

The footsteps slowed and stopped. Dick's voice came from behind him. "Batman?" he asked hesitantly.

"Not anymore." Bruce turned away from his own reflection and raised his hands to push back the cowl and reveal his face. "Batman is gone."

"What do you mean?" Dick stared. "What the hell is that?"

Bruce knew what he saw, himself in a form-fitting, all-black costume brightened only by tiny pinpricks of white and the outline of a stylized starburst over the chest. No cape, heavy gloves and boots, a thick black belt with silvery threads lining it. The cowl he had removed was plain and equally black.

"This is my new costume. Like it?"

"Yeah, it's great. What's going on?"

Bruce turned away from his narrowed eyes. "Since the Scarecrow knows Batman's weakness, and since I had - a problem - with the old costume, I decided this was the only way."

"The only way for what, exactly?"

"Batman will disappear." Bruce took a deep breath. It hurt to say it; somehow saying it made it real, and the reality was that he was giving up something that had been a part of him for years, perhaps even since the night his parents had died. In a deep sense, it was giving up what he was. And yet - while the name would change, the man would not. It was the only way to continue doing what Batman had been created for, to keep him alive, even if it had to be done under a different name.

"Maybe the Scarecrow's stopped Batman, but he hasn't stopped me." He faced Dick again. "From now on, call me Starman."

- - -

TBC...