Disclaimer: When I sit down to write another chapter, I find that whenever I can write these attempts at comedy I'm referring to as disclaimers easily, I'll have an easy time writing the story. When I sit here staring at the screen with jokes from old Garfield strips and Jimi Hendrix lyrics running through my head, it's gonna be a toughie. No points for guessing which just happened as I wrote this. And despite all the skull-sweat, I still don't own any of these characters.

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Partners

Chapter 7

As far as the date went, Dick would have been just as happy if 'dinner and a movie' had meant 'pizza and a video', but the second date was a little early to start doing those non-date dates. When you added in the fact that the first date had centered around two brawls and a fairly lousy cup of coffee, it seemed incumbent upon Dick to actually make a night of it.

Dinner had been fine. He'd found an Italian bistro that had yet to be discovered by the teeming throngs of Gothamites that descended on every trendy eatery as soon as it was discovered. Good food, but eager enough for business that they didn't yet have a dress code, which suited Dick fine. It was the movie that would prove to be the real mistake. It seemed a simple enough choice, pick the romantic comedy. It didn't matter who was in it, what the reviews were, or what the 'plot' was. If you picked the romantic comedy, it wouldn't necessarily be the best two hours of your life, but the happy ending would leave her pleased and (so theory went) in a romantic mood.

All fine and good in theory, but in practice, he was reasonably certain that another ninety minutes of this crap was going to cause his head to explode. He munched morosely on a handful of popcorn, pondering 'accidentally' spilling the entire bag so he'd have an excuse to leave the theater, at least for a few minutes, when Barbara leaned over and whispered, "Can we get out of here? This movie is awful."

"Oh thank God!" Dick exclaimed, attracting several glares from the patrons seated around them. "Well she's right," he said as he stood up, "this is awful." She laughed and gave him a shove towards the aisle. "You realize you've earned my eternal gratitude," he said as they walked out of the theater.

"Eternal, eh?" she asked, grinning. "I'm going to hold you to that promise." He leered comically in response, and she laughed again, "Dork." She tugged on the bill of his baseball cap, pulling it down over his eyes. "You know that thing makes you look like a teenager."

"I am a teenager, remember? For a few more months, at least." Forty, to be exact, but who was counting? Dick took the hat off, revealing the bandage on his head, and straightened his hair, tucking the cap into his jacket pocket.

"It makes you look like a younger teenager." She glanced at the bandage and asked, "How'd you get that?"

"Fell," Dick replied, shrugging. "On some stairs. Needed a couple stitches." Barbara frowned. She wondered again just what 'odd jobs' Dick Grayson was doing.

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As far as their date went, Bruce would rather have gone somewhere more quiet, like that bistro Lucius had told him about, but of course he couldn't. It was one thing to allow himself to relax a bit around Selina, it was another thing entirely for the public's image of Bruce Wayne to be of anything other than that of a dimwitted rich playboy. No, if Bruce Wayne was going to appear in public with a stunning brunette on his arm, it was going to be at Les Jardin.

Les Jardin was perfect for his cover. Populated by a mixture of Gotham's richest and most famous, and the people who wrote about or took pictures of first category, there were endless opportunities to reinforce his image. Plus there was the fact that Les Jardin served only vegetarian French cuisine, so Bruce always took the opportunity to loudly order coq au vin, foie gras, or any number of dishes that they didn't serve. His favorite was steak frites. Nothing said 'boob' like going into a restaurant named 'The Garden' and ordering a steak.

Best of all, anyone who saw him that night would remember that order, (and of course the woman with him.) They would take no notice of him chatting quietly with her over the garlic-marinated stuffed portobello mushrooms, discussing the early show he'd taken her to. "I'm not saying it's not a good performance," she was saying, "I'm just saying that the acrobatics aren't up to the standards of the trapeze artists you find on your more well-known American circuses like Ringling or Haly's."

"It's not even comparable," Bruce said. "You're comparing Cirque du Soleil to a stunt act that takes place in a kid's show with lion tamers and clowns." He couldn't quite keep a hint of a Bat-scowl off of his lips. He wasn't fond of clowns. "It's like you're holding up a ballet to a professional wrestling match and complaining that in ballet they always land on their feet." Selina smiled at him, amused.

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Four hours later, she was decidedly less amused. Shocked would be a better word for it. After dinner, they'd gone back to the Manor. It was only after they'd made love that she had noticed the lines on his chest. Four fresh scars, parallel, and she was absolutely certain they hadn't been there the week before. She could barely keep her voice level as she asked, "Where'd those come from?"

Laughing, he replied, "The neighbor's cat jumped on me when I was lying by the pool. Pesky thing. Always getting where she shouldn't." He let his head sink into the pillow and closed his eyes. She stared, wondering if he was mocking her. His eyes were closed, and he looked to be moving towards sleep. She lay there, stock-still, waiting until his breathing slowed. She crept quietly out of bed, showered, dressed and fled the room. She nearly jumped as she found the butler waiting outside the room. "Pennyworth!" she said, trying to control her breathing. 'Get a hold of yourself, woman!' Someone sneaking up on her in Batman's house...Batman's butler sneaking up on her in Batman's house, that was too much.

"Miss Kyle," he said, "I apologize for disturbing you."

"You didn't..." she began to protest before shaking his head. "No apologies necessary, Pennyworth. If you would call me a cab?"

"Is everything alright Miss Kyle?"

"Perfectly alright," she lied, "I have some business in the morning and need to be off." 'And if you object in the slightest, Bat-butler, I'm busting out of here any way I can.'

"Certainly. Would you like some coffee or tea while you wait? It can take a while for a taxi to arrive."

"I imagine there aren't many in this neighborhood at this time of night," Selina said, forcing a light tone and a smile, "I'll be fine in the foyer, thank you."

"I will return shortly," he announced, heading into one of the nearby unused bedrooms that had a phone. After calling the taxi, he stepped back out into the corridor, noticing that Bruce had pulled on a bathrobe and was making his way towards the den. "Miss Kyle may return to offer farewell," he pointed out.

"Tell her I sleepwalk," Bruce said tersely.

Alfred's disapproval was pointed, "I shall be certain to tell her just that, Master Bruce."

His shortness with Alfred aside, he did remain in the cave, out of costume, until Selina's cab had departed, just in case she did attempted to see him again. She didn't, which, oddly enough, irritated him. He had measured his breathing to appear asleep in order to encourage her to do the same. Instead, she had crept out of bed and slipped out on him. For some reason he couldn't fathom, this bothered him.

He pored through police reports, news stories, anything else the computer's search protocols had flagged for his attention. He checked the list of at-large criminals, any JLA communiques, and then decided he could get a patrol in. He had the computer dial his partner's phone.

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"This is...not a good time," Barbara said in response to the terse command that had been graveled into her ear.

I don't believe I asked if it was a good time.

She glared at the phone in her hand. "I don't believe you asked, period. It remains, in fact, not a good time."

There was a pause on the other end. You're at the cave first thing tomorrow night.

"Fine," she agreed, flipping the phone closed and resisting the urge to hurl it at the wall. She let her eyes close when she felt his lips on the back of her neck. "You can keep doing that," she said, "til...y'know, morning? Not necessarily this morning, mind you."

Dick laughed, the slight movement of his lips tickling her cheek. "Whatever you say my red-haired wonder. That was work?" he asked. I wouldn't think the library would be open this late."

"It's not. That was...something else," she answered.

"Oh good. I had this mental image of the Batman showing up, returning his copy of 'How to Win Friends and Influence People' and rummaging through the records, looking for people who are overdue." Barbara burst out laughing. In retrospect, she probably should have pretended not to get the joke, but it was such a perfect mental image of Bruce that she didn't have a choice.

As her laughter subsided, they heard a sound "from outside his bedroom. "Selina must be home," Dick said, adding by way of explanation, "My roommate." Suddenly a loud crash could be heard from the kitchen. Dick and Barbara glanced at each other. "I'd better take a look," he said, and got out of bed. She took a moment to enjoy the view as he bent over, retrieving his bathrobe from the heap on the floor it had been discarded in.

An icy shock passed through her as she connected two images in her mind. Him, bending over in front of her at this moment, and him doing the same thing the night before on a rooftop. The skintight leather he'd worn left little to the imagination, and she had a very good memory. Every unanswered question she'd had about Dick fell into place. The way he handled himself in a fight, his 'odd jobs', and the money he seemed to have. Even the cut on his head. She had given that to him.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh at the absurdity and cry at the indignity. Batman would probably want her to call him, but she wasn't quite willing to do so, not without more evidence. 'What would I say, anyway?' Hey Batman, I think this guy I'm seeing is Tiger because they have the same ass?' No, gather more evidence.

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Dick walked into the kitchen and found Selina, sitting on one of the chairs that surrounded the table. Well, the one chair, at any rate. The other had been smashed into kindling. The scratches on the surface of one section of the countertop bore witness to where the smashing had been done. She was staring blankly at the wall, saying nothing.

"Selina? Are you okay?" he asked, putting one hand lightly on her shoulder. When he touched her, her hand shot out towards his chest, fingers curled as if to claw him. Dick jumped back, bringing his hands up for defense, banging his heel on one of the cabinets. "Dammit, Selina!"

"I'm sorry!" she said suddenly, seeming surprised to see him. "Are you..." she began to ask.

"I'm fine," Dick said, ignoring the throbbing in his foot. There was going to be a bruise there, tomorrow, but Dick was a good deal more worried about Selina. He'd never seen her shaken like this. "What happened?"

"It's Bruce. He's-" her voice cut off at a sound from the hallway. Her head whipped around and she jumped out of the chair, landing in a defensive posture.

"Barbara's here," Dick said, trying to interpose himself between Selina and the door. Whatever had happened with Wayne, she was clearly on edge, and the last thing he wanted was for a (he hesitated to even think the word) catfight to break out.

Selina's eyes narrowed. The noise brought her attention away from Bruce...from Batman. She found her control returning, but she did not relax her posture. "Then why," she hissed quietly, "did that sound come from my bedroom?"

Dick blinked in surprise, then frowned, heading into the hallway, Selina right behind him. He flicked on the light switch and they found Barbara, fully dressed, sprawled on the floor, her upper body lying across the threshold of Selina's bedroom door, her leg sin the hallway. Somewhat groggily, she rolled over onto her back and pointed at them, "Cat..." she muttered. Dick and Selina glanced at each other.

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When Dick walked out of his bedroom, Barbara dressed quickly. A quick look around the room revealed nothing. She wasn't exactly sure what she expected to find. His costume? The Rodin in his sock drawer? Whatever she was looking for, she didn't find it. If she was right about Dick, this Selina might well be Catwoman, so Barbara headed into the hallway.

She crept into the corridor, the dim lighting coming from the single lamp in the kitchen. She wouldn't have minded the nightvision lenses Batman had installed in her cowl right about now. As she approached the other bedroom, her foot bumped something soft. There was a loud yowling sound, followed by a flurry of movement, and she felt herself falling off-balance.

She tried to bring her other foot forward to catch her weight when her forehead impacted with the heavy wooden door. When she tried to catch her self, the unlocked door flew open, removing all support she had, and she fell to the floor in an undignified heap. She lay there dazed for a moment, then blinked as the light was turned on. She rolled onto her back, grabbled hold of the door frame and pulled herself to a sitting position.

With Dick was lithe black-haired woman in a red evening dress. Barbara found herself pointing and saying, "Cat..." before she got a hold of herself. Dick and Selina (who Barbara felt sure was Catwoman, despite even less evidence than she had on Dick) glanced at each other, and she let her arm drop a little, pointing at the furry black lump glaring at her from the other end of the hall. "Was looking for the bathroom," she explained. "Tripped over the cat."

Dick offered her a hand up, which she accepted, and said, "Selina, this is Barbara."

Barbara stood, red-faced. 'Think positively,' she thought, 'they can't possibly connect you with Batgirl, now.' "Pleased to meet you," she greeted in a light tone, "Dick's said...well not all that much about you, really.

Equally lightly, Selina replied, "There's not much to say, really. Dick, when you've got a minute, I need to talk with you about the rent. Nothing urgent." He nodded and she walked past both of them into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Dick frowned. 'Selina could buy the building and not make a dent in her finances. It must have been something she didn't want to talk about in front of Barbara.' He glanced at Barbara, fully-dressed, and sighed. "You have to go?" he asked.

Barbara seized upon the opening, nodding and saying, "Yeah. I stayed a bit longer than I'd planned." Dick grinned, and despite herself she laughed. As he leaned forward to kiss her, she hesitated for a moment before letting him

She felt a momentary pang of guilt. She liked him, and what she'd seen in the restaurant and the alley suggested he was a good person at heart, but he was a criminal, was likely to end up in prison, and the way things looked now, it was probably going to be her and Batman who put him there. Bad enough all of that, but kissing him while knowing this...that felt dishonest.

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Two hours later, she was no longer feeling guilty. Staring at the large screen inside the cave, showing articles surrounding the murder of John and Mary Grayson, Dick's parents. It might have been easier if it had all been a lie, if his story was nothing more than a ploy for sympathy. She'd have been angry, but she could have made a clean break as Barbara, and he would have been Batgirl's job from then.

But no, the jerk had been telling the truth. There was the proof in black and white. The newspapers hadn't published his picture, of course. They couldn't, him being a minor, but all the articles had mentioned the twelve year-old son of the murdered acrobats. All the articles. The Gazette's, the Times', even the blurb in the Daily Planet. Newspapers frequently copied from each other, to the point that it wasn't even considered theft, but the better papers always verified their facts independently. And all the newspaper articles, from four years, two months and twelve days ago, mentioned John and Mary Grayson's twelve year-old son.

He had told her the truth, except in one detail. And because of that detail, now she was a criminal. A fine point, perhaps. Certainly all of Batgirl's activities were against the law, a fact her father had mulled over more than once in her hearing when it came to the issue of the Batman, but that was different. She might work outside the law, but she was working on its behalf. This was a law she had broken. Unknowingly, but ignorance was no excuse.

What this meant is that it was important to keep Barbara away from whatever was going to happen. 'So no going over there and beating the hell out of him,' she thought bitterly. At least not as Barbara. The next time Batgirl got a hold of him, it'd be a different story. In the meantime, all this bordered on speculation. She knew, but she needed proof. Typing away, Barbara dug into the backgrounds of Richard Grayson and Selina Kyle.

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Selina sat in silence on her bed, propped up against the wooden headboard. She'd changed into a pair of silk pajamas. After Barbara's departure, Dick had knocked on her door, but she'd begged off, saying it'd wait until the morning, and to get some sleep. She doubted she'd get any on her own. Her brain was racing. Images of Batman's face, of Bruce's. Four lines across his chest. She imagined those same lines slashing across that yellow symbol.

Her ears burned at his response to the question she'd asked. Four lines, that far apart, and he blamed the neighbors' cat. Unless the neighbors were keeping a panther, there was no way in hell that had come from any four-legged cat. 'Pesky thing. Always getting where she shouldn't. Arrogant, condescending son of a bitch...' She found herself glaring. She should tell Dick and be done with it. That's what partners did, right? Told each other these sorts of things when it mattered? And it mattered, alright.

Dick might not have had her long history with Batman, but he had his own issues with the Dark Knight, stemming from before she'd ever met him in that alley. And for all she knew, Bruce might know what he was doing, dating her. Know who they were. Dick had to be told...but she didn't want to. What if Dick were angry enough at him to spread his secret around? To Penguin, Riddler, Joker even. Ok, he was a billionaire, and he was Batman. He could take care of himself. But still, she didn't want that...

What did she want?

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Barbara knows, but she needs proof

Selina knows, but she needs answers

in Chapter 8