Holly "Go Nightly" Robinson took her time waking up in the morning. She smiled contently to herself and turned over in her bed, burying deeply into the warmth of her luxurious king-sized comforter. someone as rich as society's dear Selina Kyle was thoughtful enough to invite her former roommate over to crash from time to time.
"Mmmm," she hummed. Holly stretched her arms over her head and stuck out her legs as far as they could go. She wriggled her fingers until they touched cat fur.
"Hey!" Holly gasped. A gray-striped kitten mewed before nimbly trotting onto her pillow and landing on the mattress. The young woman huffed before throwing off the covers. "Aright, Pussy. Holly's on the go." She stuck her feet into orange slippers and shuffled into the kitchen.
"Holly?" A woman's sleepy voice could be heard from the master bedroom. "What time is it?"
Holly squinted to see the clock above the refrigerator. "A little past ten."
"Too early," Selina mumbled. There was the rustling sound of blankets followed by the purring of kittens.
Holly went into the kitchen and pulled out a carton of milk from the fridge. She plunked herself at the kitchen table and began to work her way through a packge of cookies. "Come on, Selina. You can't sleep the whole day away!" she yelled before twisting a cookie open.
"Yes I can," came the matter-of-fact answer from down the hall. "It was a very good dream."
"Ooooh, who was it?" Holly teased. The cats were already gathering at her feet until she consented to pouring some milk into their bowls.
"Nobody that you'd know."
Holly scraped some creme off with her teeth. "Handsome?"
"Perfect."
"You told me nobody's perfect."
"He's close enough."
"Who is close enough?"
Selina floated into the kitchen like a nymph. Her body was wrapped in a thin silken robe the color of lilacs and her long black hair streamed around her shoulders. She leaned against the wall, eyes half closed in a dreamy smile.
"Batman," she sighed breathlessly.
Holly gasped and almost spilled milk over Tibby. The other cats ran to lap up the white puddle on the floor.
"Now don't look so scared, Holly. I've told you about him before..."
"See-lina!" Holly exclaimed, spraying cookie crumbs everywhere.
"What?" she asked lazily. Selina yawned and stretched her long arms over her head.
Holly covered her mouth with a hand and tried not to laugh. "Your tiara is on crooked."
Selina glanced in the mirror and studied the tiara that was now hanging lopsided on her head. "So it is," she murmured, removing the jeweled hairpiece and twirling it around her index finger.
"Nice trinket that belonged to some Spanish princess. 18th century gold, topazes, and emeralds. I think she wore it maybe twice in her life."
Holly walked up to Selina, took the tiara from her hands, and placed it properly back on her friend's head. "It looks good on you," she grinned.
Selina was like her older sister and Holly just loved the little funny things that she did. Like inviting any stray cat over for a free breakfast. Or enjoying peanut butter French toast over a romantic movie. But the coolest thing about Selina was her obsession with priceless artifacts and jewelry. She just loved sleeping in her oversized precious jewelry. More than once Holly would see her all snuggled up flannel pajamas with a big sparkling diamond ring on her finger or chanticleer earrings.
"So how long do you think you'll keep it this time?" asked Holly.
Selina took a seat at the table and began to sip her coffee. "I'd say a week at the most."
"That's all?"
"I can't exactly wear it in public, can I? That's the problem with these things: you have to hide them or sell them."
"Watcha going to do?"
The tabby leapt onto the table and began to receive a blissful scratch behind the ears from Selina.. "I'll probably slip it back tomorrow night anyhow. The guards will be too dumb to know what hit them."
"Or Batman."
A buzzing sound came from the security downstairs. Holly pressed a button to the box and spoke into it.
"Yeah?"
"Bruce Wayne would like to now if Ms. Kyle is available."
"It's Wayne!" she squeaked in delight.
"Oh." Selina sighed in boredom. With a careless wave of her hand she said, "All right, send him up."
"Aren't you even the tiniest bit excited, Selina? He's not only rich but also the hankering handsome hunk to ever walk on..."
Selina put down her mug. "'Hankering handsome hunk'? How many soap operas have you been watching lately?"
"Enough," Holly said. "But Bruce Wayne's no soap fanatic. Did you see him in the papers, Selina? How about that gorgeous hair, those muscles, that dazzling white smile and those big blue beautiful melting eyes of his? Don't tell me he doesn't turn you on at all."
"Bruce is a good friend and the perfect escort," Selina agreed. "But he's...well, different."
"Boring?"
"No. He's a mystery." Selina smiled and touched her lips. "Bruce Wayne is like a ball of yarn. And you know how cats love to unravel a ball of yarn."
"Oooh," Holly grinned. "So you're just going to play it cool until he turns up the heat. Very smooth."
There was a knock at the door. "Selina?" a male voice asked behind the wood.
Holly whirled on her friend. "The tiara!" she whispered frantically. Selina snatched it off her head, dashed back into the bedroom, and quickly thrust it under her bed. She ran back into the hallway, all the while smoothing her hair down and retying the sash to her robe.
Holly yanked the door open. Bruce Wayne looked good as ever in black jeans and a gray v-neck sweater that showed off his trim figure. A black trench coat was draped over his left arm.
"Good morning," he said politely, giving Holly a smile that had sent dozens of women into swooning fits.
"H-h-hi," Holly stammered, flushing beet red.
Bruce glanced down at her footwear. "I like your slippers."
"D'you really?" Holly gushed. "Because I got 'em on sale at Tiki's and they are the cutest things in the world and they even carry lava lamps and matching sheets with polka dots?"
"Holly, are you going Bruce in or just tell him about your shopping expedition?" Selina asked behind her.
Holly stopped babbling long enough to blush and apologize. "Oops. Sorry." She stepped aside and gestured for Bruce to come in.
"Not at all," he insisted. Holly closed the door behind him and offered to take his coat. She restrained herself from wanting to bury her face in the trench coat of Gotham's wealthiest bachelor and breathe in his cologne.
Selina folded her arms over her chest, sizing her guest up and down with casual interest. Bruce did the same as well.
"I'll just put this away," Holly whispered. She made a beeline for the living room, leaving Bruce and Selina together.
"You're looking comfortably stylish this morning, Selina," Bruce said.
"Likewise," she nodded. "Have you come here to compliment me on my slippers too or to pay a house call?"
"I thought we had a date for brunch."
Selina pressed a hand to her forehead in alarm. "I forgot about that! I'm terribly sorry Bruce. I've been so busy lately."
"Now I know I've been stood up," Bruce grinned. "First time for everything."
"Not this time," Selina insisted. "Give me ten minutes to get dressed and then let's go to Angelo's."
"Why not now?"
"Now? In my bathrobe?" Selina yanked on her sleeve. "The tabloids would kill you for that, Bruce."
"I wouldn't be in the least offended."
"Oh you!" She shook a finger at him but in all good humor while she kept marching towards him. Bruce ended up walking backwards until he landed on the sofa.
"Now you just sit and wait a while until I come out presentable enough to be seen with Bruce Wayne." With that, Selina drifted out of sight and back into her room where she began to toss aside shirts and slacks, al the while fumbling for her boots and some emergency lipstick.
Bruce picked up a magazine and began to flip through it while two cats lazily played with his shoelace. The silence was interrupted when Holly peeped out of the kitchen armed with a handful of cookies, one soggy one drowning in her milk glass, and another lodged between her teeth. She almost swallowed it when she saw Bruce looking at her again with his winning smile.
Holly ran out of the room and vowed never to eat junk food in the presence of an attractive male ever again.
A-A-A
"How are you feeling today?"
Dick yawned in response to the butler's question. His headache was gone and his throat felt much less scratchy than it did two days ago.
"A lot better, Alfred."
The boy fidgeted to get out of bed but the trusty butler was already carrying a silver tray to him.
"Nevertheless, I insist that you remain in bed until your temperature remains stable."
"But Alfred..."
"No 'buts' young man. Dr. Leslie's orders."
"But I need to train with Bruce," Dick begged him. If there was anything that thrilled the little aerialist, it was the secretive martial arts lessons and combat techniques that Bruce taught him in the vast cave below the mansion.
"Master Bruce has left for the morning," Alfred replied as a matter of fact. He handed the boy a savory cup of herbal tea. Dick held the mug in his hands but he didn't drink it.
"He's gone to see Selina Kyle, isn't he?"
Noticing the resentful look on the young man's face, Alfred could barely suppress a chuckle. "Rest assured, lad. Your guardian knows what he's doing. And besides, Ms. Kyle provides pleasant distraction from his brooding time."
"But she's dangerous. Bruce doesn't realize that Selina could just be using him to...to..." Dick fumbled for the right words.
"Lead him astray?"
"Yes!" the boy blurted out in panic.
Alfred remained unfazed. "If Ms. Kyle's plan was to seduce your guardian then she would have attempted to do it already."
"Maybe she's waiting to see the stock market go up," Dick defended himself.
"I doubt such a plan would work, considering how many plots have been foiled already."
Dick looked up from his breakfast. "What do you 'already'?"
Alfred folded up an extra blanket while he talked. "It has been no small feat of the press to acknowledge that Bruce Wayne's wealth has already attracted more woman than bees to a honey hive. I have seen many try to win him and all have failed. Some have tried to murder him."
Dick sucked in a breath. "Really?"
"Yes. All of them unsuccessful."
He punched a fist into his palm. "I wish Roy were here to hear that."
Alfred produced a package that he had been hiding behind his back. "Perhaps your wish has somehow come true," he said, handing the parcel to Dick. The boy placed it in his lap and untied the string. He tore off the paper and gasped with surprise. Inside were several crisp new comic books and a note:
Dick,
Here's the Crimson Avenger comics #241-249. It's the "Doomsday" arc. If that voodoo stuff didn't give you nightmares, then this story will. Kill the specks or I'll do it myself.
-Roy
The graphic novels provided a worthwhile distraction for Dick who propped himself up on his elbows and began to flip through them. Alfred allowed himself a small sigh of relief while he gathered up the remainders of last night's medicine onto the tray. The battle had been dismissed thanks to the young Mr. Harper's gift, but he knew that the war was long from over.
A-A-A
Pancakes are hardly a romantic breakfast even if the scenery was right out of a Dickens's novel. Bits of snow lightly dusted the street outside their window while Bruce and Selina were tucked into a cozy corner of Angelo's looking out onto the streets. They sipped their coffee and watched people in bundled up coats walk up and down the bustling streets.
Selina's attention was fixed upon the window where her eyes kept checking the rooftops. There was not going to be any sign of him in broad daylight yet she couldn't resist the urge to dream that he might-
"Selina?" Bruce's gentle yet prodding voice brought her back.
Selina blinked. "Huh?"
"I asked you how the crepes are."
"Oh, the crepes. They're delicious, Bruce. Thanks for asking."
She picked up her fork and carefully placed a piece in her mouth. Bruce stirred his coffee. Selina realized that he was starring at her through the drifting white steam of his mug, eyes narrowed keenly in her direction. He almost looked like a panther waiting to strike. Her stomach turned over and she didn't feel hungry anymore.
"Is something wrong?"
"No. Why?"
"You seem distracted, Selina." Bruce put down his cup and rested a hand over hers. She wished his hand didn't feel so warm and pleasant on top of her own because it made fuzzy feelings spin in her head.
"You know if there's anything bothering you then you can always talk to me."
Selina looked irratable. "What could ever be bothering me?"
Bruce shrugged. "The papers say people like us don't have a care in the world. But we've been playing this game for too long now. I know you, Selina. You don't have to hide things from me."
"I'm not hiding anything!" she insisted, cheeks flushing at once. One of Bruce's eyebrows went up in surprise.
Selina glanced aside in embarrassment, knowing that she had accidentally left her guard down. The young woman sighed and brushed a lock of hair out of her face. "All right, Bruce. You've got me." She folded her arms together and leaned across the table until she could murmur discreetly into his ear.
"I've got a crush," she confessed in a low voice.
"Really?"
Selina leaned back in her seat. "There's somebody I'm interested in but he's...complicated," she concluded.
"At least we're getting somewhere." Bruce looked positive. "Anybody I know personally?"
"Definitely not."
"Try me."
Selina ran a finger along the edge of the table, wondering how she could describe her delicate situation. "Let's just say he's a bit fanatic about the law."
"You're stuck on a policeman," Bruce concluded.
"N-no, not exactly."
"Commissioner Gordon is married, Selina."
"I knew that," she huffed indignantly. "You're impossible sometimes."
"That's my job."
He grinned at her until Selina was unable to keep her frustration simmering. She relaxed her shoulders a bit.
"All right. So he's on the side of the law and helps the cops. Turns the bad boys in, works night hours, and tends to keep to himself. But I think he understands me somehow, even if he doesn't talk much. Though don't get me started on his kid," she cautioned. "A royal pain in my head."
"The cop has a kid? No wife?"
Selina hadn't even thought of that. Her mouth hung open in shock. What if Batman was married? No, he couldn't be! What if he was leading her on? Impossible! He wasn't the sort of man that would leave his wife at home and go risk his life every night, would he?
Bruce waved a hand in front of her face. "You're 'zoning out' again, Selina. This guy must be worth it to make starlight in your eyes."
A pink glow bloomed in her cheeks. Selina forced herself to regain focus so she could look Bruce squarely in the eye. "I...I don't think he's married," she concluded.
"How can you be sure?"
"Bruce, there's one thing I know and that is that no woman could stand waiting up night after night for a bullet-ridden husband to come home. She'd have a heart attack."
"If you like this 'cop' enough, wouldn't you?"
She hesitated. If the Dark Knight ever came crawling to her on hands and knees after being wrecked up, she knew what she'd do. "I'd sew his body back together with my own ten fingers if he needed it."
"It sounds like you two need to talk," Bruce concluded.
"That's really up to him," Selina warned him.
Unfazed, Bruce put down his coffee mug. "This isn't about one person, Selina. It's about the both of you.. Your feelings matter just as much as his so you'd better sort things out before they get even more complicated. Not to mention the kid."
"Right, the kid." Selina touched her lips. "He's very protective of his father."
"Is there something wrong with that?"
"No, but I wish he'd learn a little bit about how to treat a lady. You could give this kid some lessons in manners, Bruce."
He burst out into cheerful heartfelt laughter, holding his sides while he tried to catch his breath. "I have my hands full with Dick Grayson, thank you very much," Bruce said at last.
Selina hadn't asked Bruce about his ward. After Gotham's Favorite Son had agreed to share his home with an orphaned circus child, the papers and press lines were jammed for two weeks of babbling nonsense regarding Dick Grayson. But eventually old habits feel back into place and the hungry news reporters returned their attention back to Bruce Wayne, leaving Dick to attend school by day and fight crime by night.
They both rose from the table and Bruce paid for the bill. After graciously helping Selina to put on her coat, he turned to her and asked, "What are you doing tomorrow night?"
"I have a few errands to run," she replied coolly. "And you?"
"Watching the ball game with Dick."
She pushed open the door and a blast of cold air caused her hair and Bruce's scarf to flap madly in the wind. They both started walking down the street towards Selina's car, snowflakes spiraling around them.
"What is it about us, Bruce?" she asked with gloved hands rubbing against each other. "We can't seem to get enough of each other in the day but at night, everything ends at eight o'clock."
"Does that mean you want to see me again?"
"Of course, Bruce. You're my friend. Your opinion means the world to me."
Selina was caught off guard when long strong arms encircled her body and pulled her close. The embrace was long and deep and even for someone as brave as Selina Kyle felt small inside of Bruce's arms. She closed her eyes and sighed, wondering how she could just melt into his grasp with so many confusion thoughts twirling around in her head.
A-A-A-A
2 days later:
Two young men swiftly donned uniforms, changing their appearances into two loyal dedicated crime fighters. One was bright and eager as his crimson uniform while the other threw his black cape around his shoulders with the gravest expression.
Dick watched with profound awe as his guardian strapped on his utility belt and finished dressing himself. The moment that cowl came over his head, it transformed carefree Bruce Wayne into the grim vigilante known as Batman.
This power of masks fascinated Dick. A mask could hide your fears. It could distort reality and change your appearance. It scared your enemies and protected you with unbound courage.
"Are you sure you're up to this?" Batman asked him.
"Yes, sir. I feel fine."
He jumped into his seat of the Batmobile and the bulletproof windows slid shut. The long black car sped out of the cave like a ball out of a canon and then began to speed down the highway with swiftness and silence.
"The commissioner may have some more leads on the drug runs. I want us to keep hot and quiet on the trail or else these goons will pack up and leave town."
"Not for good?"
"Not at all. If they get away, they'll just come back in three months with even more trash to sell."
"So we're nipping this in the bud," Robin concluded, stretching his hands behind his head for support. The cowl-covered head nodded.
"And another thing. I want you to wait for my instructions at all time. Even if someone tries to throw you off course, stay focused."
"What if this someone is a woman?" Robin suggested.
"Let me deal with her," his mentor concluded.
Robin remembered the butler's advice and decided not to protest this time.
They arrived on the roof of Gotham's Police Headquarters just in time to see a tall man in a brown leather trench coat lighting his pipe. He tugged on his coat for extra warmth against the freezing February chill. The Dynamic Duo descended onto the ledge, boots barely making a sound in the thin blanket of snow.
"What is it, Jim?" Batman asked.
The commissioner quickly dropped his match on the ground. "I wish you wouldn't do that," he grumbled. He pulled down a lever to extinguish the signal. Gordon adjusted his eyeglasses and glanced at at Robin with disapproval.
"I still don't know why he lets you out on nights like this," he said gruffly. "Boys like you should be playing basketball or spending time with girls."
Robin just grinned and folded his arms across his chest. "Crime never sleeps, Commissioner. Neither do Boy Wonders."
"Or vigilantes," Batman reminded him. "Any updates for us?"
Commissioner Gordon handed Batman a thick folder full of papers. He accepted it and began to flip through them with lightning speed, his eyes reading through the words in a blur. Robin glanced over his partner's shoulder in anticipation for action.
"They haven't made a pattern yet. We found one place working in the old Valcor Warehouse and another in the Narrows but I think there are more to follow," the commissioner said.
"Isn't there a standard network of drug runners?" the boy questioned.
"Usually, but not in this case. These people could be doing it wherever their hands can move: in the sewers, abandoned apartment, basements, anywhere," Batman concluded.
"So where do we start?" Robin asked.
"I'll see if we get any talkers on the East side. Let's go, Robin." With a whirl of his cape, Batman was off the roof with a red-breasted boy following behind him.
A-A-A
If the third floor guards at the Gotham Museum of Art and History shined their flashlights upward then they might see a scrap of plaster protruding from the ceiling. If they stopped talking and breathing for two minutes then they might hear a faint scratching sound too.
But no one did.
A clawed hand held two wires delicately in a painstakingly cautious attempt to cut them properly. Catwoman stopped focusing on the circuitry long enough to scratch her chin with an index finger. The she continued her work.
Hanging upside down inside of a shaft isn't the most enjoyable way to spend one's evening but she was determined to keep her word and return the tiara. After all, the real thrill of the game was in getting it in and out of the museum. She would have her fun and then take off.
This part of her life was a piece of cake. Locks, security men, combination codes, laser beams—none of them got Catwoman into a sweat. But when it came to personal matters, she felt as bewildered as a little kitten in a big town.
How ironic.
"Does that mean you want to see me again?"
She gently pushed all thoughts of Bruce out of her mind. It was all just nonsense. They were the perfect couple at all the fundraisers and looked stunning together in magazines. She and Bruce shared a strictly plutonic relationship, right?
Catwoman watched the screens on the walls below her fizzle with static. She'd have exactly two minutes and thirty seconds to replace the tiara without sounding the alarm. Swiftly, the screws in the grate were unhinged. Catwoman removed the metal plate and dropped to the floor on all fours softly.
Not a soul was in sight. By day the museum was a bustling exhibit for people from all four corners of the earth to come and marvel at the beauty within. At night the museum was a sleeping ground for the Greek gods and Egyptian kings to replenish themselves before the next day's exhibition.
High-heeled boots barely tapped as Catwoman crossed the marbled floor towards the display. Yellow tape crossed around the glass case in an X-shaped warning where an empty velvet pillow stood in the center. Now that the sensors had been disassembled, she easily lifted up the glass case and placed the tiara back inside on the pillow.
She could hear a faint humming sound overhead. That must be the security kicking back in, Catwoman thought calmly. A whip lashed out and wrapped itself around a balcony. She shimmied up as fast as a squirrel no more than seconds before the guards dashed in.
Their flashlights scanned the room for clues. At that very moment, Catwoman had successfully replaced the grate and was watching from above with her head resting in her heads, quite amused with herself. Between the metal slits she could just make out their heads.
"Where'd they go?"
"I dunno."
"Someone fried the computers, man!"
"This ain't my fault. Matt's the one on the…"
"Oh my god! Is that it!?"
Catwoman covered her mouth to stifle a snicker. They were all gawking at the replaced tiara with stunned expressions. She silently wished she had brought the camera to get a look at their faces.
"Uh, Professor Marcus?" one of them croaked into his walkie talkie. "Th-the Francesca Crown is b-back. That's a good thing, right?"
Catwoman rolled over on her back and broke out into fits of silent laughter, hands holding her shaking stomach with glee.
A pity that one of the more clever guards heard a clinking sound in the rafters when she tried to exit the museum. The moment he turned his head she knew it was time to scram.
"The Catwoman!"
"Stop her!"
She ran up the stairs and jumped off a ledge just as a spray of bullets tried to nail her to the wall.
A-A-A
"Red Bird to Leather Wing. Attention this is Red Bird, do you copy?"
"Robin, if you want to play 'cops and robbers' then Metropolis is over 200 miles away," came the monotone voice into his communicator. "Otherwise restrain yourself and tell me where you are."
Robin adjusted the transmitter in his ear. "I'm at the end of 14th street and Gopher Avenue. They're unloading some trucks from the back of the bodega."
"Can you see what it is?"
Robin put the binoculars to his face and squinted. "Just newspapers."
"Are you sure?" Batman asked tensely.
Robin watched the delivery men start an assembly line as they passed crates of papers into the store. "Unless you can sneak drugs in between the pages. Oh wait, now they're bringing in the donuts!" He enviously watched them unload several boxes of pastries.
"Remind me again why I agreed to take on a partner."
"Because kids can see stuff that you guys can't." Robin adjusted the binoculars to get a closer look. "Oh look. Here's Mr. Contadina coming out to see the trucks and he's got his kid with him."
"Amita? The little one with black braids?"
"Yes. He wouldn't be selling drugs with his daughter around, would he?"
"Not at all. Besides a slight addiction to card games, Contadina would never jeopardize his family or put his business before them."
"Batman!" he exclaimed. Robin watched Mr. Contadina pay the delivery men and then they started to climb back into the truck. "They're leaving right now."
"I want you to follow that truck until it stops or if someone gets out first. Contact me if you see anything at all," he was ordered.
"Yes, sir."
Robin watched the milk truck speed off into the night while he scampered across the rooftops. Sure enough, the truck pulled into an old parking lot and one of the men got out. He thanked his colleagues for the lift and walked across the street, hands in his pockets.
The Boy Wonder watched with great caution, following twenty feet behind and being careful not to make a sound. He watched the man go down rickety stairs towards the old theatre district. Empty cans and cigarette butts littered the streets. There was no sound, not even the bark of a dog or honk from a car. The man walked briskly until he came to a door. He knocked several times in a pattern, all the while looking around him cautiously.
"A code," Robin thought to himself. The door opened just enough for the man to slip in and then it shut quickly. Robin ran around to the side and got a look at the sign. The paint was nearly faded out but by squinting he could make out blue words that read MAXWELL'S BILLIARD HALL.
Robin heard sounds coming from inside of the pool hall. He peered in through the dusty window and gasped softly. Men were seated at dozens of faded green tables in assembly lines. Packets of white powders were being measured out into tiny plastic bags and being sealed.
Robin knew that stuff wasn't Pixie Powder.
He brought a hand to his ear and touched his communicator lightly. "Batman," he whispered softly. "I found a nest."
"Where?" came the voice at the other end.
"Maxwell's Billiard Hall, down in the district."
"Isn't that closed for renovation?"
"Doesn't look like it," Robin said as he glanced back inside. "Oh man, they're just turning out this junk like Santa's evil helpers."
"I'll tell Gordon. Get out of there now and I'll meet you back at the bodega."
A glaring eye stopped working inside the pool hall and starred out at Robin. He gasped in alarm. "Batman, I'm spotted."
RA-TA-TA-TA-TA went the sound of the machine guns. Robin's agility propelled him out of harms way and straight through the glass windowpane. He tucked himself into a ball and rolled on all fours before coming to a rolling stop.
"It's the bratty kid!" one of them shouted.
"Get him!"
Robin stood up, masked eyes quickly surveying his surroundings. Several thugs, most of them armed with wrenches or clubs. He had been better at one-on-one combat and knew when he was in far over his head. This time he had better keep his distance.
One thug lunged forward in an attempt to bring his club down on Robin's head. The boy's booted foot drove his head into the ground and then the Boy Wonder jumped onto his back in a backwards leapfrog. He spun around a swift kick into the soft belly of another man. He gasped and sank to his knees, clutching his stomach in agony.
"Hey!"
What he lacked in muscles, Robin made up for in agility as he nimbly dodged one man's fist. The thug ended up hitting his partner in the face. Robin heard the sound of small bones cracking.
"Ouch! Watch it, scumbreath!" he shouted, clutching a bloody nose.
Robin thrust his body into an arch, the backwards summersault catching them all off guard. They tried to grab him but the Boy Wonder was too quick for them. Two cartwheels forward, a swepp of the leg, and he managed to take out three more of them without getting so much as a scratch. They all fell hard on their backsides or on top of one another in tangled confusion. Robin's bright yellow cape billowed behind him until he landed on top of one of the tables.
"Somebody's gonna get a lot of coal in their stockings," he warned them. Robin kicked the table as hard as he could. Glass bottles crashed the floor and the drugs landed on the floor in a messy heap. Mortified at the loss of their paychecks, nearly all of the thugs were running around and frantically trying to save the precious powders. Robin took the moment to exit out of the window and scramble up the fire escape.
"This ain't over yet, Bird Boy!" one of them roared from below. He shook a fist up at Robin. "You hear me? We're gonna skin you alive!"
Robin allowed himself a victory cheer and a good laugh at that. They'd be so flipped out about trying to save their wares that they wouldn't dare go after him or think about the police.
"Robin to Batman, Maxwell's is currently out of business," he announced aloud. There was no answer. "Hello, hello! Stalwart Dark Knight, do you read me?"
Batman wasn't answering. Robin frowned. Where on earth could he be?
The clever lad started to scamper his way about town, carefully making his way across the rooftops back to police headquarters. Robin slid down the slanted roof over Gotham Cathedral and skidded to a halt when he noticed someone and heard something.
His ears detected someone talking. No, two people. One of them had moved much faster then the other and he detected the outline of a cape against the murky sky. He tiptoed softly towards them, all the while staying as concealed as possible behind a stack of crates. Robin held his breath and waited to see what was going on.
His eyes grew wide behind his mask.
Batman was about to catch her!
A-A-A
The chase across rooftops was generally smooth but the dusting of snow was not intended to catch her off guard. The railing was too slippery. Her heel wobbled and she felt her body surrender to gravity. Catwoman stretched out her arms to brace for impact when thirty stories would rush up to greet her.
Just as she was about to topple backwards, someone grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her away from the ledge. She was set back on her feet safely by a pair of firm arms. Catwoman glanced up at her savior with bewilderness. She was shaking with adrenaline if not the thrill of delight.
She managed to catch her breath before speaking to him. "They're 'cooking' down at the-"
"Old pool hall, I know." Batman released his grip on her shoulder.
"You knew?"
"Yes. The police can take it from here."
"I'm glad to hear it," she replied as she dusted off her arm. "It's no use arresting me now because I don't have any fenced goods on me."
The slits in his cowl narrowed cautiously. "Oh?"
"Yes. But you can search me if you like," she added with a toss of her head. Catwoman waited for a response from him but Batman remained as silent as a gargoyle.
Her shoulders slumped a bit in defeat. "Well, that's that. I guess I should be going."
His hand was suddenly on her wrist. She couldn't break out of the grasp as much as she tried.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"I thought I'd give you a hand with the junkies in town," she suggested.
He tugged harder on her wrist, pulling her even closer to his face this time.
"You're lying to me." His voice came out with the low deep growl of an animal and it sent tiny shivers down her spine.
"I...I wanted to see you," Catwoman admitted at last.
Another gust of wind whirled around them causing his cape to flap madly like the flutter of wings, brushing against her body. She felt her knees start to buckle under her. Her head was swimming profusely.
Suddenly, a gloved hand came under her chin and tilted her face up to his. She wished that he would take off his mask. She desperately wanted to see what color his eyes were.
He lowered his head closer to her and his tone was less harsh, more raspy. "Don't play games with me. You know what I do to dangerous people in this city and I don't want to hurt you."
Catwoman exhaled slowly to control her thumping heart. "I'm not afraid of you," she said softly.
"No. Most criminals are too scared to get close to me. You're different than them, Catwoman. I think you'd be more concerned if I vanished out of your life."
The still silence spoke for itself.
Catwoman's lips parted and she murmured something, feeling his own mouth gravitate towards hers. She braced herself in the hopes that their lips might touch.
"You can't deny that there's something between us," she said faintly.
"It's called the law, lady."
Robin's sharp interruption broke their conversation and the two adults quickly stepped back from each other. The fiesty spy leapt out from behind the clock tower and put his hands on his hips. Catwoman teeth clenched together.
Batman frowned in disapproval. "I thought you'd listen to my orders."
"Sorry Batman, but it's for your own good," Robin said.
He pointed a green-gloved finger at Catwoman in accusation. "Just because you've got good looks doesn't mean you can use them as weapons. You're just trying to tempt him and make him into a bad guy like you."
"I'm not a bad guy, little bird. But I can be a very bad woman," she cautioned him, baring teeth like a tiger.
Robin scowled. "Why I oughta..."
He charged for the feline felony but Batman had grabbed the edge of his cape, pulling the boy back. "Ow!" he shouted, arms flapping about him. "You almost choked me."
"Calm down, Robin," he was ordered. But the boy was too furious inside to resist struggling in his mentor's grasp. He kept lunging for her.
"I'll be she has something to do with the drug runs!" Robin shouted. "That's why she keeps trying to get on your good side!"
"That is the most ridiculous theory that I have ever heard," Catwoman said with disdain.
"That's enough!" Batman thundered. "Neither of you are helping with this situation at all."
But neither the boy nor the woman seemed interested in hearing him at this point. The Dark Knight kept a hand pressed against Robin's chest to keep him at bay while Catwoman looked on with disdain.
"Why should we even trust you anyhow?" Robin shot at Catwoman. "You're just a petty thief."
"Excuse me? I'm not the little boy who runs around the city in green shorts while he should be sleeping in bed with his teddy bear."
Robin's ears singed with anger. "I'm not little boy!" he hissed between his teeth. "And I don't have a teddy bear!"
"You certainly don't have any manners either."
"I save 'em for women."
"How would you like a spanking?"
"How'd you like a punch in the nose?"
"Robin!" Batman tugged hard on his cape. "Apologize right now."
"What?" He looked up in shock. "She started it!"
The irritableness of the situation had grated on Catwoman's nerves long enough. "Never mind, Mr. Gotham P.D. I don't need some kid to say he's sorry," she replied coldly to Batman.
"Now if you two will excuse me," she added bitterly. "I'll be seeing myself off."
Her whip lashed harshly in the freezing air and then secured itself around the pole of a fire escape. Catwoman pulled herself off the building and ran into the night, praying that the sting in her eyes was not from tears.
Batman finally released his grip on the small angry boy when he knew they were the only ones left. Robin brushed off his cape, glancing up at his mentor while he still simmered in his own fury. Without a word, the Dark Knight pulled out his grappling hook and released a line of cable. The boy followed silently along. They took off the building using their ropes and landed on another rooftop. Robin struggled to keep up with the deep strides of his partner whose quick paces spoke enough for his temper. They climbed down the fire escape towards the back alley.
"Hey! I'm not going to be left out of this," the boy piped up. "What were you two talking about?"
"This is not your place to decide, young man. On this team, I make the rules," Batman said firmly.
"Oh, I see. It's a grownup thing," he muttered sarcastically.
Batman's fingers tapped coordinates into his utility belt. The grinding sound of motor was coming in closer until the Batmobile pulled up in front of them and the top slid open.
"We're not discussing this again. Now get in."
"No."
Batman starred at the boy. This was the first time his partner had ever openly defied him. "What did you say?"
Robin stubbornly folded his arms, stuck out his lower lip in a pout, and glowered. "I'm not getting into the car. And I'm not just some stupid little kid you can order around either."
Batman had no time for patience. "Is that so?" he demanded. Before Robin could protest, he had been grabbed by the waist and tossed through the air, landing neatly into his seat of the Batmobile. He was so surprised at Batman's sudden burst of the strength that, for once that night, he had nothing to say. Robin merely looked at his partner and sulked.
The detective got into his own place at the steering wheel and took off in a thundering roar. The ride home was a long one filled with icy tension between the two crime fighters. Robin was secretly thankful for the darkness of the car that covered up face that was flushed with shame and embarrassment.
"If you're such a great person then how come you act like a jerk sometimes?" the boy thought to himself bitterly. He turned over in his seat and soon fell asleep.
A-A-A
Roy came over for breakfast the next day. Even though they had French toast and blueberry muffins, Dick was still in a bad mood.
"How do you make someone stop falling in love?" he demanded abruptly.
Roy looked up from eating with cheeks full of food. "Huh?"
"Or get somebody out of love that they've already fallen in?" Dick asked.
The other boy took a deep gulp from his mug of hot chocolate. "You kill the dame," he said calmly before biting into a muffin. "Before she kills you."
"What? I can't do that!" Dick cried out. "I'm no murderer."
"Bull. You're old enough to be a fugitive on the run," Roy said. "We can go together and take off for San Francisco by midnight. But we're going to need more muffins first. And fake passports and ID cards and stuff."
"Why San Francisco?"
"Why not?"
Dick cracked up at his new friend's ridiculous antics, feeling much better than before. Roy started laughing as well and they both sent a spray of crumbs into the air.
When Dick managed to catch his breath and clear his throat, he kept talking. "I'm serious, Roy. Bruce has dated more women than I can count on both our hands and feet but there's this one lady who won't leave him alone."
"What does Bruce say about it?"
"That I should mind my own business and he can date whoever he wants. He's totally hooked on this one." Dick sulked. He sighed and rested his chin in his hands.
Roy shrugged. "It happens to the best of us, kid. Nice broad marries Bruce; nice broad turns into bad broad, bad broad kills Bruce. She inherits his billions while Alfred gets a pink slip and you get shipped off to a boarding school in Switzerland."
"I can't let this happen to Bruce!" Dick almost wailed.
"Neither can I. I'll be bored to death if you go to Switzerland," Roy said. "Relax, Dick. I got it all worked out. There's a few spells for breaking up love."
"Like what?"
"Swinging a dead cat around a graveyard at night."
Dick did a double take. "What?"
"Or you cross paths with the lovers, spit in their faces, and throw mummy dust in their faces. Love will shrivel up in two weeks time."
"Where am I supposed to find mummy dust?"
"The museum, idiot."
"I'm not the idiot here."
"Oh yeah?"
"Ha!" Dick threw a piece of toast at Roy who caught it in his left hand. He bit into it with gusto.
"I don't think I can throw around a dead cat. Too smelly, too complicated," Dick pointed out. He knew that act would have Catwoman burying him six feet under for good.
"Fine, scratch the cat. But it also works for warts if you need them gone."
He had Dick turn over his hands with careful scrutiny in case that spell would be needed. No, Dick did not have any warts on him.
"OK. Now we can't go to the museum and look at mummies because Ollie knows me better and he'll suspect we're up to something for sure," Roy added. "I think we'll have to cook up a spell all on our own."
"Will it work?"
"Sure, I've done it tons of times before," Roy said proudly. He pointed a thumb to his chest. "Not to worry, Dick. We'll find the right incantation and save Bruce from utter demise and destruction. Heck, he may even buy you a car for that."
Dick scooted up closer, now fully charged from Roy's words. He rubbed his hands together in excitement.
"Great! How do we start?"
Roy started counting off on his fingers. "We'll need to prepare ourselves for intense concentration. The ceremony needs a few things: basic incense-although sugar cubes work too. Candles, a white pillow case, a bowl of water, some matches…yes, I think that'll be fine. But I need to do some more research about the cosmic universe first."
"You can use the library," Dick offered quickly. "Will that be fine?"
"Totally. Come on, let's get to work!"
With gleeful animation, the two boys jumped up from the table and almost crashed into Alfred who was coming in through the door.
"More breakfast, Master Richard?"
"No thanks, Alfred. Everything was great." Dick and Roy ran past the perplexed butler and out the door.
"Yeah, thanks Mr. Pennyworth but we've gotta go because there's a serious ritual at stake!"
The butler knew better than to ask about what this specific "ritual" was about. "Look at you," Alfred called from the doorway. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you two were Thomas Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn."
He closed the door behind him while the two boys tore up the staircase at lightspeed.
"Who's Huckleberry?" Roy asked Dick.