"Hi, Bruce," Dick said, not really knowing what else to say.

He felt the blood rush to his face. The voice that spoke wasn't his--it was much higher and softer. Without being conscious of doing it, he analyzed it: More feminine. Not musical, like Donna's, or sweet, like Barbara's. A little husky, almost a contralto, but a girl's voice nonetheless.

Batman wasn't saying anything. In fact, he wasn't doing much of anything. Just standing there.

Oh, boy! Dick knew he was in trouble--not to mention danger. He only had about twenty seconds left before the hammer fell.

"Bruce, I can't explain it! I woke up a while ago from the world's worst nightmare, and there I was--there she was--staring at me in the mirror. But it's me! I'm Dick! Please, you're the only one who can help me."

Dick stopped, embarrassed. He felt on the verge of tears. What was the matter with him?

You're a girl! That's what's the matter with you, you moron!

"Bruce--?"

"I don't know who you are, or how you found your way in here. Nor do I know how you managed to acquire that motorcycle, or--" Batman paused, his entire being exuding peril for the petite girl standing before him. "--or how you got that jacket."

He indicated the well-worn, too-large Gotham Knights jacket that was as much a part of Dick Grayson as the escrima sticks were a part of Nightwing.

"But I promise you, before I'm done, you'll tell me everything. And you'll also tell me what happened to the owner of those items."

Dick struggled with fear and laughter. Finally, his quirky sense of humor won out and he let out a short, shaky laugh. He cut it short, when he noticed that it sounded more like a girl's high-pitched, nervous giggle.

He noticed Batman's expression. Dick knew Bruce well enough to realize that under his cowl he was probably raising a single eyebrow at his visitor's inappropriate response.

Dick covered his mouth. "Sorry," he said shrugging. "But, come on, Bruce...try those grim tactics on someone who'll swallow them. As for me--!"

Batman grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground, as easily as if he were a mere child. Dick couldn't believe it. To make matters worse, his air supply was now cut off.

Dick found himself choking on his words and struggling for air.

"Bruce--" he gasped. "You're--choking--me!"

Batman released him suddenly, letting him fall to the floor in a heap. Dick gasped for air, beginning to feel just a little peeved. At himself for not anticipating that Bruce would be harder to convince, and at Bruce for not recognizing him!

The next thing he knew, Dick was being hauled to his feet by the scruff of his neck. To add to his humiliation, both of his wrists were firmly secured behind his back, held in place by only one of Batman's hands.

"Okay! Now I'm mad," Dick muttered.

Flexing his arms, Dick freed his hands catching Batman by surprise. Next, he squirmed out of his mentor's grip and, before Batman could react, flipped him head over heels. Batman landed on his backside, but in an eyeblink regained his feet, assuming a defensive stance.

"Bruce, you're going to listen to me if I have to beat some sense into that thick skull of yours," Dick said between clenched teeth. "Now look at me! It's me! Dick!"

As he spoke, Dick and Batman circled each other cautiously. Both alert to any opening the other might give.

"Okay, maybe I'm not exactly myself at the moment," Dick admitted. "But I'm still me." Dick felt his heart being torn in two. If he couldn't make Bruce believe him, then--No! He had to make his father believe him.

Batman made his move. Instinctively, Dick leaped and somersaulted over the Dark Knight's head, landing behind him. In a flash, he tore off the Gotham Knights jacket and kicked off his too-huge boots. He'd hitched his pants several times in order to keep them up, but they were beginning to slip off his (embarrassingly) shapely hips.

Okay, no time for modesty, he thought grimly. Batman was already circling again. He'd soon attack a second time. Dick fell backwards and rolled several times. As he did so, he easily slipped out of his pants and tossed them aside. In a single motion, he returned to his feet, facing the Dark Knight in nothing more than a dark, baggy T-shirt and his Batman boxer shorts.

Thankfully, the T-shirt fell to just above his knees.

He noted that he'd taken Batman slightly aback by his impromptu striptease. He flashed Batman his patented daredevil grin and shrugged.

"I guess I lost a little weight last night," he said.

"Do you insist on continuing with this ridiculous charade?" Batman demanded.

"Bruce, I know I'm asking you to take a lot on faith," Dick said. "But can't you at least listen? I swear that if you still don't believe me, then I'll accept whatever fate you choose. Please, Bruce--I'm asking for your help. I need you, Bruce. I've never stopped needing you. Not since that day my parents fell off the trapeze and you held your hand out me."

Dick dropped his defensive stance and stood straight, holding out his hand, pleading. "Please...I need you to listen."

Batman stared at the petite, dark-haired girl a moment longer, taking in her dark blue eyes and tanned complexion. He recalled her amazing athletic moves of just moments before. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that Dick's sister was standing in front of him. What if--?

But, no! That was impossible. Wasn't it? In spite of himself, Batman hesitated. Finally, he nodded.

"All right," he said. "I'll listen. Start talking!"