Guys, I am sooo sorry for how long it has taken me to write. Honestly, I have been involved in a THOROUGH research project on setting the timeline straight for the Arkham-verse and I have a proclivity to tell things exactly how they happened and I know there are inconsistencies and it bothers me so much... but I'm trying to move on. So please, go easy on me. And thanks to the new followers... seeing those notifications really inspired me to keep putting pen to paper (so to speak). Enjoy!

"You're going to be out how late?" Dad asked from the kitchen, his gun holster swaying against his chest.

"3 am?" I said in a light voice. "Something like that? Just don't wait up for me…"

"Barbara, the city is dangerous at night. What on Earth are you doing?" he shrugged.

"I'm just going out with a friend…"

"Is this about that guy again?"

"No dad, it's not a guy, there is no guy," I said, then immediately questioned myself. Would it be a guy? This escort Bruce had hired was meant to be picking me up at nine, but they hadn't reached out yet; I didn't know if it was a man or a woman. "It's just a friend, it's a new friend I met at the gym, we're just going to hang out."

"If you tell me you're going to be working out until 3 am again…"

"No, dad, well," I said, hesitating again, "we might go to the gym, I don't know. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

"You never go out with friends," he shrugged so animatedly that the coffee in his mug sloshed over the side and onto his hand.

"Maybe I should! I'm only in my twenties once, I should act my age occasionally, right?"

"Not the way other girls act. You know how many problems this city has with human trafficking? Girls going out one night and not coming home?" he cautioned me, as if I hadn't heard the horror stories a thousand times.

"Dad, I know, I'm not gonna be stupid about it. Can you just trust that I'm smart enough to take care of myself?" I asked in a quieter tone, trying to soothe his nerves. Bruce probably wouldn't keep me out all night, but I wanted dad to be prepared in case I didn't make it home. "Please, just… go to bed, and I'll be home by the time you wake up. Or I'll text you if I stay over at her place or something, okay?" He shook his head, clearly wanting to argue more but knowing that he needed to bite his tongue. I reached forward and put my hand on his arm comfortingly. "I'm gonna be safe. I promise. I just… want to see what it's like to not fall asleep on my desk or with a book in my hand." He couldn't withhold a small smile at that. He seemed to thaw to my touch, and his shoulders eased lower.

"Can I meet her? Your friend? What's her name, anyways?" he asked. I opened my mouth to respond, though I had no idea what her (or his) name would be. As if perfectly timed, a knock came at the door. I smiled at him and side-stepped towards the door, looking through the peep hole. In an instant, I took in her appearance: a young woman a bit shorter than me with well curled dark brown or black hair. She wore a stylish leather coat over a black blouse, and her makeup was done to perfection. Dad would not buy that this girl was the type I'd typically call friend. But I stepped back and opened the door with a smile.

"Hey Barb! You ready to go?" she smiled at me and spoke like we'd been friends for years. I smiled back with a nod.

"Yeah, I just need to get my stuff. Did you want to come in for a second?" I asked, unsure if she'd want to say yes.

"Sure," she said, taking a large step through the apartment door and looking to my dad. "You must be Barbara's dad, the commissioner, right?" she asked with her hand outstretched. My dad accepted it and nodded respectfully.

"That's right. Barbara hadn't told me your name yet, you're…" he asked as he shook her hand.

"Oh, I'm Colleen! Nice to meet you," she said in a mannerly way. I relaxed a little as my alibi seemed to fall into place and grabbed up my backpack, which had already been packed with a change of clothes. "Thanks for letting me steal Barbara for the night," she playfully shrugged. "We won't get into too much trouble, I promise."

"I appreciate it. Bring her back in one piece," Dad smiled, though I knew there were still genuine anxieties beneath his forced grin. I stepped closer to him and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"We'll be fine dad. I love you," I said as I stepped through the apartment door and led Colleen away.

"Love you too," he called after me as Colleen waved goodbye. I led her out of the apartment building in silence, not wanting to jeopardize the success of the lie until we were out of earshot of my dad.

"I got us an uber," Colleen (if that was her real name) said as she hit the sidewalk. She hurried up to a black sedan and got in first. I got in after her and looked to the driver's seat to see not some pedestrian with a side-hustle, but a man who wore the hat of a professional driver. I closed the door behind me and the car slowly emerged into traffic. "Everything went well up there, right?" Colleen asked me. I looked to her and nodded.

"Yeah. Thanks," I said. She smiled and nodded, then lifted her phone.

"I just texted you my number. Save it in your phone as Colleen Bucci," she instructed as I felt my phone in my backpack vibrate. "The story for tonight is that we went to my place, spent some time pregaming, you helped me make a workout plan, and then we went to a club. I'm going to text you a couple times throughout the night just to reinforce that story, things like 'where'd you go' just in case someone looks at your phone for an alibi. If you don't get home until 6 am or later, have your boss message me so I know to say that you stayed at my place." I looked cautiously at the driver as I took in all this information. "Oh, don't worry. Your boss hired him." The driver looked in the rear-view mirror and nodded back at me.

"My boss?" I asked quietly. Colleen looked up at me suspiciously.

"Yeah. Your boss."

"What…" do you know, is what I wanted to ask. Was she really doing this and had no idea why? Or did she know everything, about who I was and what I was doing, and what Bruce was doing?

"Look, all I know is that I'm paying my way through grad school by being your cover story. And that's all I need to know," she said. The car rolled to a stop at a red light and Colleen turned and opened the door. "Have a great night doing whatever the hell it is you do," she said with a smile and closed the door behind her, weaving through the cars and heading down the sidewalk. The car started off again in the direction of Wayne manor and I leaned back in my seat, a bit mind-blown at what Bruce's money could buy.

"Don't feel self-conscious," the driver said quietly back. "I bet Bruce Wayne's had secret girlfriends like you in the past." I almost laughed at how wrong that statement could be. There I was, sitting in the backseat of the nice sedan in torn jeans, a tank top, and a hoodie sweater. If Bruce was looking for a girlfriend, I'm sure I would have been last on his list. But I didn't say anything; if that's what the driver wanted to believe, it was a lot more believable than what was really going to happen.

After being buzzed in at the entrance to Wayne Manor, the driver dropped me off at the front door where Alfred was waiting.

"Good evening. I hope everything went as hoped this evening," he asked as I came into the house.

"Yeah, well," I shrugged, "if you mean my dad thinks I'm clubbing, a stranger picked me up, and the driver thinks I'm a mistress, then… sure. Everything went perfectly." Alfred had closed the door behind me and smiled back at me.

"This way, Miss Gordon. He's ready for you." When Alfred said Bruce was ready, he meant it. I was taken directly to suit up and, once I was ready, Alfred led me to the main monitors in the cave where Bruce was leaning over the keyboards in full Batman regalia.

"What do we got?" I asked, looking up at the monitors. A map of the Gotham sewer system was enlarged with several green and red beacons.

"The sensors we left for Waylon Jones have been disturbed. Not all of them, but some of them. We need to get down there and figure out if he's disabled them, then reinstall them to properly track his movements," Bruce said.

"Technically, haven't they already tracked his movements?" I asked. "If he's only disturbed a few of them, then he's probably only messed with the ones on his route. If we follow the disturbed beacons, we'll probably be led right to him."

"Which is why you're coming," Bruce said, turning away from the monitor and sauntering towards his case of gadgets. "I don't want you anywhere near Jones yet, but I want to reconfigure the beacons as quickly as possible. I'll be following the beacons, you'll be repairing them." A part of me wanted to argue, but I knew I should be grateful he was even taking me out. And I didn't want to face off with Killer Croc yet either. I followed him to the case of gadgets and he looked down at a stack of the beacons that doubled as batarangs. I grabbed a stack of ten or so and placed them in a holster on my belt. "This is a dry run only," he said, cautioning me. "We get in, fix the beacons, get out. No confrontations."

"You got it, boss," I nodded. He reached into the case and pulled out something that looked like a gun.

"For you," he said. I took it and realized it was like his grappling hook gun. I aimed it up across the Batcave, examining its sight. It would take some getting used to. "Use it carefully. It's not as easy as it looks." I attached it to my belt with a nod.

"Ready?" I asked. He nodded, and we headed for the Batmobile. He opened the rear hatch and allowed me to sit in one of the seats before it was sucked back into the car.

"Sir," Alfred said over the earpiece installed in my cowl, "Master Jason is asking for you. Shall I tell him you'll see him upon your return?"

"Tell him not to wait up for me, I'll see him in the morning," Bruce answered over the mic.

"Who's Jason?" I asked. I didn't get an answer. I wondered if the microphone wasn't on in my cowl, but knew that probably wasn't the case. The Batmobile roared to life and I felt like I was stuck on a rollercoaster zooming backwards through the streets of Gotham. I wasn't one to get nauseous from motion sickness, but I could imagine that Alfred probably had to hose out the Batmobile from time to time, when bad guys got sick.

When the car stopped, I heard a beep and the hatch opened. The seat extended to the ground and the harness around me raised as I stood. We were in an alley somewhere downtown; the lights were dimmed and it was near impossible to see deep enough into the alley where the car was stowed. Batman hit some buttons on his forearm and a light pinging noise sounded in my cowl.

"The first beacon is just below us. Remember: I follow, you fix," he said. I nodded, and we headed for a manhole cover. He pulled it off and I carefully descended first, landing in a small stream of water at the bottom. The sewer tunnel was empty, but I could see deep slashes in the concrete walls. Croc had assuredly been here. Batman dropped into the tunnel beside me and started forward. I followed, and the pinging in my ear grew to a faster tempo as I neared the damaged beacon. As the pinging grew to a heightened frequency, I looked to my feet and saw the beacon jammed into the concrete below; Croc must have accidentally knocked it down.

"Here," I said, calling Batman's attention to it. I yanked it from the concrete; it had been smashed, probably by a large foot, and likely wouldn't work again. "Want to keep it?"

"They're easier to replace than repair," Batman answered, scanning the horizon of the tunnel in case we were snuck up on. I threw the beacon aside and grabbed a new one from my tool belt. I turned it on, and sharp prongs stuck out the back of it. I pressed it firmly into the wall at about hip level, hoping it was out of sight enough for Croc to ignore it.

"We're good," I said to Batman as he pressed forward. A new pinging started in my cowl, directing me towards the next damaged beacon. We pressed forward until we found the next one, which looked like it had been balled up in a tight fist and crushed. "He saw this one," I said as I pulled out a new beacon and set it up at a lower level.

"Keep following them. I'm going ahead; he could be leading us into a trap," Batman said without stopping.

"Okay," I said as the new beacon clicked to life and the pinging in my cowl slowed. Batman had already disappeared around the corner, but I was sure I'd see him again soon. I was careful to splash as little as possible in the water of the sewer as I pursued the next beacon; I was keenly aware that it could be Killer Croc's plan to separate us, then attack us one at a time. Then again, he didn't know I existed yet, right? I found the third beacon, which had been knocked down accidentally, and managed to set it back up in a more inconspicuous place.

"Only two beacons left," I heard Alfred's voice in my cowl.

"Oh," I said into the cowl, "you surprised me."

"Apologies, Miss… oh," he hesitated. My muscles tensed and I froze in my steps, worried he knew something I didn't.

"What is it?" I asked, looking up and down the sewer tunnel.

"I just realized… we never assigned you a code name," Alfred responded. I almost laughed as I relaxed.

"Do you have one?" I asked.

"No, but we've found I've rarely needed one," he answered. I nodded as I continued following the pinging of the next beacon. My thoughts returned to Dick on the previous night, as he'd tried flirting with me. How frustrated I'd been with him, but how drawn I was too him. He'd thought of a code name and I had to admit, it did roll off the tongue.

"Nightwing suggested a name," I tentatively suggested. "Batgirl."

"Not exactly indicative of your power," Alfred commented. I found the next beacon lying half in the water and pulled it out to see a red light shining on it: too damaged to use.

"Yeah, well… maybe that's a good thing. Makes my job easier, if they underestimate me," I said as I replaced the beacon.

"Very good, Batgirl," Alfred said. I almost laughed as I heard him say the name out loud, but I just smiled and shook my head to myself as the beacon lit up. A brief thought of Dick's half-cocked smile and blue eyes distracted me, but I shook it off and listened to the pinging in my cowl again. Just one beacon left. As I approached the sound, the pinging abruptly silenced. I stopped in my steps.

"What happened to the beacon?" I asked into the cowl, raising my hand to my ear as I tried to reach Alfred.

"It appears to have been replaced. Perhaps Batman beat you to it," Alfred answered.

"I did," Bruce's voice came over my cowl. I grew a little self-conscious; I hadn't considered that Bruce would be listening in, too, when I'd mentioned Dick. "Batgirl, keep moving forward about 200 feet. I'll meet you there." I did as instructed and, when I met him, I saw what he had drawn my attention to. A large hole in the concrete had been punched through and, below, there were more tunnels weaving in and around each other. Some might have been part of the metro line, but not all of them.

"What are all of these?"

"Older sewer lines. Underground passages, possibly used in times of the underground railroad or other black market trades. It's possible Waylon is accessing them, which leaves a lot of tracking yet to be done," Batman answered. I motioned to pull out my grappling gun, but Batman waved a hand at me. "Not tonight," he said. "We've done enough. We need to learn more first." I didn't argue. He was right. I knew what to research now; there were city planning documents to pull, schematics, engineering plans. We could learn a lot about what Croc was up to on the computer before we jumped into the fray. I leapt across the chasm towards Batman and we went up to the next manhole cover. Batman exited by shooting his grapple out of the sewer. It grabbed onto the edge of the manhole and he was flung out. I looked at the narrow exit and wondered if this was the best time to learn to use my grapple. I let out a nervous breath and pointed my grapple, fired, and let the momentum of the gun pull me. I sucked my shoulders in tightly and realized that the mechanized pull of the gun would keep my momentum going past the edge of the manhole. I was thrown out of the sewer and had just enough time to bend my knees before landing on my feet. I smiled giddily as I realized I'd managed to grapple correctly and hadn't horribly hurt myself on my first try.

"Good work," Batman said, then shot his grapple again towards the top of a building, and he was gone. I followed, this time with much less apprehension, and landed on a rooftop at his side. He hopped a few more rooftops in this manner, mostly to give me opportunities to practice, I was sure. I appreciated the chances. By the time we landed on a roof at the edge of Founder's Island, I felt like I had this grappling thing down. He approached the edge of the roof and looked out across the water, and I stood by his side. Just across the water, I could see the green lights of the Oblivion Bar where Dick and I had seen the known associates of Riddler.

"We came to help Nightwing?" I asked. Batman looked back at me with serious eyes, then returned his gaze to the bar across the bay.

"He needs to take care of his own problems," Batman answered. "But Riddler is a problem of ours, too. He's not in custody anymore, and no one's trying to lock him back up. Which means Nightwing was right; we was likely recruited to work with The Suicide Squad."

"Which I still haven't gotten a full briefing on," I reminded him.

"You'll have time and access to case files when you start with Lucius next week," he said. "All you need to know for now is that Riddler is loose, and he appears to be working in Gotham. I want him brought back to justice."

"I thought you said that was my problem," a familiar, coaxing voice said behind us. Dick was approaching from behind; who knew how long he was on that rooftop with us. "But I'll still take the assist, if you're offering it," he smiled. In his black outfit, with the light blue accents and his black hair dangling over his mask, I felt a flutter of excitement I couldn't suppress. He looked me up and down as the light breeze blew my cape and hair back behind me. "Looking good, Batgirl. Or did you settle on a different code name?"

"I settled for Batgirl just fine," I said, putting my hands on my hips.

"We're not here for Riddler tonight. And we're not here to help," Batman said, turning away from Dick.

"Then you're kind of in my spot," Dick said, shouldering his way between me and Bruce. I looked him up and down for a moment, and he returned my gaze with a small wink. I did my best to contain a smile and turned away, taking a step back and following Bruce towards the opposite edge of the roof. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me." Batman grappled off the roof to swing to another, and I followed. We dashed over rooftops and made our way back towards his car; I supposed that meant the night was over.

"It might get a little difficult if we always need to carpool to the crime scene," I said from the back seat of the Batmobile. Batman was driving us swiftly down darkened roads and past slow drivers. He kept his eyes glued to the road ahead, concentration crucial to the speeding drive.

"Do you know how to drive a motorcycle?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, trying to suppress my excitement.

"Good, we've got a spare. We'll outfit it and get it ready. But for now, I want you with me," he responded. I couldn't help but feel a little babysat. I understood; the stakes were as high as possible. If I messed up, it wasn't just my ass on the line; lives were at stakes, as were identities. If someone like Joker beat me in this costume, I wouldn't just suffer a painful death; he'd reveal my identity, try to torture others' out of me, and torment my family. Batman needed to be sure I was up to snuff before letting me venture out alone.

He sped into the Batcave and I was unloaded from the back of the car, but Batman didn't get out. "Alfred, outfit Robin's old bike for Batgirl. Barbara, I want you to get in the AR chamber for some technical training."

"I can fight with you," I suggested, as it was evident he was going back out. But he didn't answer; he just sped away and was gone. I let out a slightly disappointed sigh. I knew I needed to be patient, but I didn't want to be. Alfred led me dutifully to the AR chamber to find it was already on, but on a new setting. In the chamber, I could see everything that Bruce was seeing. "Very cool," I commented as I watched Bruce zipping onto the streets of North Gotham. "Is this where you work while he's out?"

"Actually, I haven't been in here tonight," Alfred said with an exasperated sigh. He walked to a corner of the room where he picked up a dirty towel and a water bottle, then looked back around the room. "When Master Bruce fights, the AR will construct opponents that fight as his opponents do. You can learn from his technique in real time." I nodded as I looked around the room.

"Very cool," I said. "Dick uses this to train?"

"Not in a long time, he hasn't," Alfred answered. I nodded to myself. If Alfred wasn't in here, and neither was Dick, then who had been using it before we'd gotten there? The name Jason popped back into my thoughts, and I wondered if there was something Bruce hadn't told me. Was he training someone else, too? A different replacement for Robin? I felt defensive and nervous, though I know I didn't have a reason to. I stepped into the room as Alfred stepped out and I watched Batman's movements as he lunged at criminals in dark alleys. The fighting was difficult, but the story his fights told were what intrigued me. He saved a woman from a mugging. He stopped the robbery of a small market by men that must have been Two Face's and strung them up for the cops. He stopped a drunk driver from running over pedestrians. They weren't the heroics that made international news, but it was heroic nonetheless. Seeing the world through his eyes, I could see all the dark that there was to stop; but I could also see the light in people's eyes when they were granted a second chance on life, when they got the justice they deserved.

It made me want to be on the streets more than anything.

When Batman made moves to return home, I quickly changed out of my suit and waited for him in my sweats in the Batcave. It was 2:36 when he pulled onto the launching pad and got out of the car.

"You're still here?" he asked nonchalantly as he dropped his cowl beside the monitors and punched a few keys.

"I watched you, in the AR chamber. Like you said," I said, my arms crossed over my chest. He looked across the screens as he pulled up the file on Harvey Dent and logged some information.

"A quiet night," he acknowledged.

"Productive, nonetheless," I shrugged. He looked at a clock in the corner of the screen.

"You should go home. I'll send you instructions about when I need you next. And Lucius will meet you Monday morning at Wayne Tech," he said as he began to take off pieces of his suit, starting with his gloves.

"That's it? Just… off to bed?" I asked, kind of disappointed at the casualness of the evening.

"I've got other work to do," he said, tossing his arm bracers on a tray beside the monitors.

"Work with Jason?" I asked tentatively. He stopped disrobing and looked at me seriously. I regretted saying anything. I nodded and sucked my lips in, telling myself to just shut up.

"Alfred will drive you home," Bruce said brusquely, and I got a feeling that he wasn't going to need me any time soon.

"I'm sorry, I just…" I said, urgent to make amends before I left. He stared back at me with patient eyes. "I just don't know what's going on. I want to." Bruce looked down at the keyboard and nodded. He began to walk past me but stopped abruptly at my side, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. He removed it before he spoke.

"Your first week will be spent getting you up to speed on our current cases. Lucius knows your time is accounted for this first month," he said. "As for Jason… you'll meet him soon. Just be patient." I wanted to know who he was, why he mattered, but I didn't press the issue. I nodded, and he left the cave. I let out a sigh and followed, grabbing my bag on the way out. Alfred already had the car pulled around, and Bruce had disappeared into the corners of his mansion. Alfred drove me into the city quietly at first, though I could tell he knew I was bothered.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Gordon?" he asked comfortingly. I tightened my lips. He could tell me who Jason was. Or who Talia was, that Dick had mentioned days before. He could explain Bruce's trust issues. He could tell me why Dick left Bruce's side, even though Bruce was still clearly his benefactor. But he wouldn't; I knew he'd want me to learn these things in their own time. I knew that was fair. So I shook my head.

"No, Alfred… not right now," I answered.

"Time discloses truth," Alfred mused aloud. The quote was familiar to me…

"Seneca?" I asked. He smiled into the rear-view mirror.

"Quite a memory you have," he answered. "Master Bruce will give you answers. But some answers cannot be given… they need to be earned." I nodded. I knew he was right.

When Alfred pulled up to the curb a block away from my apartment, I climbed out slowly. "You're doing marvelous work, Miss Gordon," he assured me. I smiled back in at him.

"Thanks, Alfred," I grinned, and closed the door behind me. I retreated into my dad's apartment to find a wrapped cheeseburger in the fridge with a note on it: to avoid hangover, eat now. I laughed under my breath and, though I didn't fear a hangover, I ate the burger in its entirety out of mere hunger. I showered and went to sleep, and when I woke it was to sunlight, honking cars, and my cell phone alarm. When I turned off the alarm, I realized I had two unread messages, both from Colleen.

Where'd you go, sent at 12:36 am.

You were on FIRE. Let's go again soon!, sent at 2:45 am.

I shook my head to myself. Colleen, if that was her name, was good. I hurriedly dressed and got myself ready, running into dad in the kitchen. He was holstered up and ready to go.

"How you feeling?" dad asked with a smile cocky smile.

"Wonderful, thank you very much," I laughed, grabbing a pre-made protein shake from the fridge and shaking it before opening the bottle. "Thanks for the burger, by the way."

"It worked, right?" he said, taking a long sip of his black coffee. I shrugged.

"I'm not hungover, so I guess so," I smiled.

"You had fun?" he asked. I nodded as I took a sip.

"I did," I said, remembering the texts Colleen had sent me and comparing them to the reality of me punching virtual bad guys in Bruce's AR Chamber. "It seems I'm a pretty good dancer."

"What time did you get in?" he asked.

"Somewhere around 3," I shrugged, leaving the kitchen and grabbing my bag. "I gotta run, dad. Work."

"You told them about your new job, right?" he raised his eyebrows at me.

"Yeah, but they're gonna let me stay on part time. None of the staff understand the Dewey Decimal System anymore… they want me to train them," I laughed with a shrug. Dad shook his head with a laugh.

"Of all the things you could be teaching people to do," he sighed. I smiled back and hurried to his side, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Love you dad. See you tonight," I said.

"You're not clubbing again, are you?" he jabbed at me as I hurried out the door. I stuck my tongue out in reply and disappeared from the apartment. I got to the library desk right on time, where my sleepy and homely coworkers were just shuffling in with their coffees. The only customers so far were Gotham's homeless that used the computers to check emails. I used the sleepiness of the morning to rifle through Gotham's digital archives of newspapers, using the keyword "ninjas." After finding a lot of fluff pieces on parkour enthusiasts and children's karate classes, I found a few peculiar crime reports. Random sightings, incredible opinion pieces submitted to editors, jabs at officers that put the word in incident reports for lack of better terminology. Nothing solid to go with. I was sure that the records I'd get access to on Monday at Wayne Tech would be infinitely more informative.

So, I moved on. I started to pull up building plans for the offices around where we'd found the damage in the sewer lines the night before. Usually, you need to go to the City Planner's office and pay a nominal fee to view schematics for each building; but if you could hack an access code or two, it was free. I found plans for the surrounding buildings that showed winding tunnels for five stories below ground level. Combining the files would be tricky: something that the library computers weren't capable of doing, but Wayne Tech computers were likely able to do with ease. So I hit another dead end.

I bit my lip and tapped the space bar of my computer impatiently. I wanted to get to work now, not just sit at the library and do nothing. In the newspaper database of the library, I typed in the name "Batman" and then "Jason." Two hits surfaced: a story about Batman stopping a mugging behind a place called Jason's Tavern, and a Gotham Sun tacky tabloid piece titled "Child Arrested for Robbery." The article detailed an account of a small store robbery: a fifteen year old named Jason Todd had successfully robbed the store, only to be caught by Batman and sent to juvenile detention. And that was it. The article produced more questions than it answered. Could this be the Jason that Alfred had mentioned? Why would he call him 'master?' Or was this just a random coincidence?

"Excuse me," a voice called me back to reality. I jerked away from the computer screen, trying to put on my customer service face for whoever needed help, when I realized who had spoken. Dick Grayson, in his blue Bludhaven police uniform and a navy tie, was leaning over the counter towards me, his black hair falling in his face as usual. He was always breathtaking in his Nightwing uniform, just as he was dashing in his workout clothes, but there was something about seeing him in police uniform that made it impossible to breath for a second. I tried to force a look of annoyance, but I think it just came across at stunned silence. "I'd like to check something out," he smiled at me, looking me up and down. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"That is the worst line," I said under my breath. "What are you doing here? Bludhaven is that way."

"Bludhaven coffee can't beat Ernesto's across the street. And besides, you just happen to work at my favorite library branch," he said, pushing away from the counter and sliding a coffee cup towards me.

"And why is this your favorite library branch?" I asked, looking dubiously at the coffee cup.

"I thought I just said… you work here," he said, raising his cup to his lips and taking a sip. I looked away and tried not to smile at his pick-up attempts. It was too early to deal with his flirtations; I didn't have the energy yet to withstand them.

"Look, you've gotta go," I said curtly. "I can't… do this with you."

"Have coffee? What, like you've got so many people who need you right now?" he looked around the library, full of homeless people seeking warmth and free wifi. His eyes stopped on someone behind me and he winked. I turned around to see Phyllis, the matronly 70-year old woman looking out from the stacks of books that needed to be re-shelved behind me. She blushed a bright pink and turned away with a giggle. I turned back to face him.

"Time to go," I stated.

"What, I bring you a coffee and you can't even muster a thank you? Kinda rude, don't you think?" he said, leaning an elbow on the counter in front of me. He looked up at me with innocent, pleading eyes.

"Thank you," I shook my head. "Now get moving. I've got work to do." He frowned at me, displeased at my answer. "Look," I leaned forward to him over the counter, "I can't do this, okay? I want… this… to work, and entertaining… us… is gonna ruin my chances, okay?" I tried to explain in the plainest terms I could, without saying anything incriminating.

"What, you really think the boss is gonna fire you over a workplace relationship?" he whispered in a giggle.

"Yeah," I laughed back. "I think that is a distinct possibility." Dick leaned even closer to me.

"What he doesn't know isn't gonna hurt him," he smiled teasingly at me. I sat up straight and took a long sip of my coffee in response. It was flavored well; was that hazelnut creamer?

He pushed away from the counter again, frustrated but persistent.

"You know, I've got answers," he said with a smile. "I know you've got questions, and I've worked with him for years. Trust me: he's gonna keep you in the dark a long time, unless you get the answers you want on your own." He took a step towards the door, keeping his eyes on me. "Why don't you call me, when you want to talk?" he suggested with a cocky smile. It was a tempting offer, especially given the news about Jason I'd just found. I wanted those answers, and I honestly wanted to take him up on his offer. I wanted a lot of things. But I couldn't cave that easily. I waved goodbye and took another sip of my coffee as he pushed out the door and adjusted the cap on his head. A moment later, someone tapped my shoulder. Phyllis hurriedly sat down beside me, looking in the direction of the door.

"Who was that and why aren't you dating him?"