Even though the next week was fall break, Regan still had work. She spent her days as normal, logging in new arrivals, setting up exhibits, and giving the occasional tour. Thursday afternoon came, and Regan sat in her office. She had items from all over the world hanging on her walls, including a picture of her and her parents, and another one of Regan and Sasha, in their dorm freshman year.
A knock at her open door brought Regan's attention up, and she smiled as her boss peaked her head into the room.
"Hey, Regan, got a minute?" her boss, Natalie Thorn, asked, a folder in her hands. Natalie was an older woman, gray hair framing her face and laugh lines lining her eyes. She was in her sixties and still going strong, but as soon as it had been announced that Regan would be taking over the Egyptology department upon completing her Master's degree, Natalie had announced her retirement, effective the same day Regan took over the department. She was like a mother to Regan, and most of the museum staff.
"Yeah, Natalie, what's up?" Regan answered, putting down her pen; she'd been writing a report on a new item, still trying to figure out what exactly it was.
"Wayne Enterprises has decided to see what their money is paying for," Natalie said. "They've sent someone to tour the museum; I was hoping you'd give the tour of the Egyptology department, you know it better than anyone, after all."
Regan smiled, "Yeah, sure. Send 'em in," she said, fully pushing her report to the side.
Natalie smiled, an stepped to the side. The man who stepped into Regan's office, in a nice shirt, slacks, and a dark gray jacket, was none other than Dick Grayson.
"Regan, this is Richard Grayson, from Wayne Enterprises," Natalie said.
Regan blinked, as Dick grinned at her. "Yeah, we've met," Regan finally said. "Nice to see you again."
"You too," Dick said, that ever-present grin of his still on his face. "So, I hear you're the Egyptology expert around here."
"She'll be taking over the entire department once she completes her Master's," Natalie said, a proud tilt to her words. Regan blushed.
"Even better!" Dick exclaimed. "So, where do we begin?"
"I will leave you two to it!" Natalie said, sending a bright smile to the two of them and leaving.
"Alright, well, we can start at the hieroglyphics wall," Regan said, standing up. She wore a dark green long-sleeve shirt that day, and jeans. On her feet was a pair of old but comfortable brown ankle boots that gave her an extra inch of height. Not like that extra inch mattered when it came to standing next to Dick; he had over half a foot of height on her even with the boots. "It's technically for children, but hey, everyone can learn something from it." She ran a hand through her blonde hair, and then pushed her glasses up her nose.
"The hieroglyphics wall it is, then," Dick grinned happily, his hands settled into his jacket pockets.
Regan sent him a quick grin, and then led the way to the Egyptology department.
The Gotham City History Museum was broken into multiple parts. Gotham history, United States as a whole, and then different parts of the world. Regan had started as an intern when she was in college, but before that she'd worked as a receptionist while in high school. She'd taken an interest in the Egyptology department about halfway through, and changed her focus to Ancient Egypt. Technically Natalie was in charge of that department, but because of how hard Regan had been working, she'd gone to the board, and then to Regan, a year after getting her Bachelor's degree. She could go back to Gotham University, get her Master's Degree in Egyptology, and then take over the Egyptology department.
Regan had jumped at the chance.
And now, halfway through her first semester, and with a year and a half left to go after, Regan had already taken over most of the work for the department. Natalie still handled deliveries and things, but Regan set up the exhibit did all the research.
"Okay, here we are," Regan stopped by a wall, that had both the Egyptian alphabet, and the English. "Usually we just have kids try to write their names in hieroglyphics, but I've had kids sit here for hours, write entire coded messages for their friends." She picked up a pencil and a piece of paper, and offered them to Dick. "Wanna try?"
He looked at the paper and pencil, then at her. "Really?"
"Oh yeah," Regan said. "Writing your name in hieroglyphics is the best way to really understand why the ancient Egyptians covered their tombs with them." She held up the paper and pencil again. Dick held her gaze for a moment, and then took them. Sitting down in a chair that was way too small for him, he looked up at the wall.
"So, it's top to bottom, right?" he asked, already beginning to draw out the glyph for the letter D.
"Yep," Regan said, beginning on her own glyphs for her name.
"So you can actually read this?" Dick asked, noticing how Regan hadn't even looked at the wall before beginning her name; she hadn't even had to.
"Yeah, for the most part," Regan said. "There's a few symbols that mean different things in different contexts, so when reading them, you need to take into consideration the different meanings. And, while it does normally go up and down, occasionally you'll find some glyphs that start at the bottom and go up, go left to right, or even right to left."
"Sounds difficult," Dick said. "Okay, how'd I do?"
Regan looked up, and smiled. Dick's lines weren't perfect, but he'd managed to draw the symbols mostly correctly, if not a little bigger than they were meant to be.
"Perfect," Regan said.
"Not compared to yours," Dick said, looking down at hers; Regan's lines were perfect, the lines straight, and the shapes perfectly sized.
"I've been drawing glyphs for years, now," Regan said. "You get good at it after a while. Now come on, I've got more of the exhibit to show you. We've got a mummy at the end."
"Sounds good to me," Dick stood up, folding his drawing neatly to put into his pocket.
Regan took Dick through the exhibit, showing him different pieces taken from archeological dig sites, different glyphs, and even things taken from tombs.
"So tell me something, Dick," Regan said, watching as Dick traced a glyph painted on a wall with his finger.
"Hm?" he answered.
"You said the other night that you were a detective" she said. "So what're you doing here?"
"I can't come and take a look at a museum for my father?" he asked, almost sounding offended.
"You can," Regan allowed. "I'm just wondering why he got his cop son to do this, and not someone who actually works for Wayne Enterprises."
Dick shrugged. "Bruce mentioned wanting to do a gala for the museum, but didn't have the time to come down here and check it out. So I offered to do it." He looked at her, then, "Besides, I remembered you said you worked here, so I figured I'd get a good tour."
Regan raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I'm honored," she said. "So a gala, huh?"
"You know, a fundraiser? Bring in some extra money for the museum," Dick said.
"Lord knows we could use some extra funding," Regan muttered. She shook her head and went over to the glass case in the middle of the room. Inside, was the mummified remains of an Egyptian Pharoah. "Right here, we have our mummy, on loan from the Cairo museum." She walked forward, placing her hand lightly on top of the glass case.
"Wow," Dick said. "I didn't realize we had an actual mummy in Gotham."
"Yeah, we trade them out every year or so. This," Regan said, "Is Ramses, the First. His reign was pretty short, but he was still a great King of Egypt."
"Ramses," Dick said. "Ramses the Great?"
"That would be Ramses the Second," Regan corrected. "This is Ramses the First. He was the first pharaoh of the 19th Dynasty, only ruled for about two years; Ramses the Great was his grandson. He ruled for 66 years, second longest reign in Egyptian history. The longest reign belongs to Phiops the Second; his reign is said to have lasted over 90 years. As far as we can tell, Ramses the third didn't have any relation to Ramses the Second, and Ramses the Fourth was Ramses the Third's son."
"How many King Ramses' are there?" Dick asked, blue eyes wide.
"Eleven," Regan answered. "First and Second are a grandparent, grandchild relationship. Third was almost a hundred years later, and him down to Eleven was a straight succession, each the son of the previous Ramses."
"Wow," Dick said. "You sure know a lot about this stuff."
"I went to school for it, but when you work at a museum, you tend to learn even more things. I'm essentially a walking Ancient Egypt fun fact generator," Regan said.
"You'd get along with Tim," Dick said. "Kid has an eidetic memory, he's a walking everything fun fact generator."
"Tim," Regan said, "One of your brothers, right?"
"Yeah, third youngest," Dick said.
"How many of you are there again?" Regan asked, a teasing glint in her own blue eyes.
Dick chuckled. "Four. I'm the oldest, then Jason, Tim, then Damian is the youngest. He's still at Gotham Academy, and Tim's getting his bachelor's degree at Gotham University, in business. Jason's starting this spring, for an English Literature degree."
"Yeah, I think I've seen Tim on campus a few times," Regan said with a nod. "Always got a bunch of girls following him around."
Dick laughed again, this time loud. "Yeah, that sounds like him," he said with a nod. "Jason'll probably be the same."
Regan smiled, and then looked at Ramses the First's face again. Seeing mummies used to freak her out; The Mummy with Brendan Fraser had always been a favorite movie of hers, so she was mildly afraid of them coming back to life. Normally, she would know it wasn't possible, but she was a Gotham native; anything is possible in Gotham- kind of like how everyone knew that the second Robin had died, and then come back to life as the Red Hood. It was a well-known resurrection.
"Alright, well, Ramses here tends to be the end of the tour. You can read more information on him on the walls," she gestured to the various posters and paintings from around the room, all with information of their mummy on them. "And once you're done, you can either leave the museum, or go on to the Greek exhibit, both are right down that hall," she pointed to the hall he would need to take to reach both.
"Nah, this was the last exhibit I needed to see," Dick said. "I'll talk to Bruce, but, most likely, he'll be announcing a benefit gala soon."
"Alright, I'll pass along the news to Natalie," Regan said, loosely crossing her arms over her chest.
Dick smiled, a heart-stopping, handsome smile that lit up his eyes. He nodded to her, just one, short nod. "It was nice seeing you again, Regan," he finally said.
"Yeah, you too," Regan said, walking with the eldest Wayne adoptee to the door of the museum to walk him out.
"Hopefully next time I see you, it won't be because of a work thing," Dick said. "Or at a club after you almost get mugged."
"Next time?" Regan questioned, raising an eyebrow.
Dick grinned. "Yeah, I like hanging out with ya," he said, and then turned around to walk out the door before she could say another word.
Regan stood there, jaw slightly dropped, as she stared after him.
"It might just be me living vicariously through you," Natalie said, stepping up to stand next to Regan, "But I'm pretty sure that boy was just flirting with you."
"What is it with everyone saying he's flirting with me?" Regan asked, glancing up at Natalie next to her.
"Because he clearly was," Natalie said.
Regan sighed and shook her head. "I'm gonna go finish that report," she said.
"Alright," Natalie said, an amused smile on her face. "Don't stay too late, you need to get some sleep at some point."
"As soon as I finish this report, I'm gone," Regan said. "Promise. See you in the morning?"
"See you in the morning," Natalie repeated.
Regan smiled at her boss, turned towards her office, and disappeared behind the door.
…
Regan yawned, her report finally finished and on Natalie's desk. It was almost 10 at night, so not too late, but still, it had fallen dark outside and that made Regan nervous. Ever since she'd gotten mugged the week earlier, she'd been careful to not go out alone at night, but now she'd be going out alone. At night.
So, with a deep breath, Regan stepped out of the museum and locked the door behind her. Tuning to face the street, she found it abandoned, no people or cars. It was a calm night, but still, this was Gotham; anything could happen in Gotham.
She didn't get very far before someone grabbed her arm, pulling her into an alley. She screamed, but a hand was soon covering her mouth, cutting it off. Growling in anger, Regan bit down on the hand over her mouth.
"Ow! Crazy bitch!" the hand that had been covering her mouth was removed, only for the man holding her to slap her across the face. She fell to the ground, her palms becoming skinned as they slid across the pavement.
"HELP!" Regan screamed; she knew no one was around, no one was there to help her, but she had some hope that maybe one of the Bats would hear her. Maybe Nightwing would save her again. But there was no one there. And Regan was not going to let herself go down without a fight.
"There's no one to help you, little girl," the man hissed, rushing forward to grab her again.
Regan didn't make it easy for him, kicking, screaming, and biting him every time he tried to cover her mouth. She hoped that he would just decide her to be too much trouble, but no. He liked a challenge, apparently. She even managed to land a good punch to his cheek, causing him to be thrown a few feet away from her. She tried running when he was down, but he managed to grab her again, dragging her kicking and screaming into the alley again.
"Let me go!" Regan exclaimed, kicking her legs with everything she had.
"Oh, no, little girl; it's gonna feel real good breaking you," he leered, throwing his arm around her neck. Regan gasped for breath as he choked her.
"Hey!" a voice shouted. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that you're not supposed to touch women?!"
The man's grip didn't loosen at all as he looked up.
"Stay out of it, Bat!" he yelled, "We're just having a chat!"
"No we're not!" Regan exclaimed, coughing around the man's arm on her neck.
"You heard the lady," the voice said, and then someone landed in front of them. "Let her go."
"What, you gonna make me?"
The figure the mysterious voice belonged to stepped into the weak light from one of the street lamps. Nightwing.
"Yeah, actually, I am," Nightwing said. "Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Either let her go and I escort you to jail, or I punch you, make you let her go, and then I take your unconscious body to jail. Your choice."
The man with Regan apparently decided that neither of these choices sounded good to him, so he threw Regan to the ground and took off.
"I love it when they run," Nightwing said, "You okay?"
Regan huffed and pushed herself up. Her palms were screaming at her, and she thought her wrist might be sprained. A bruise was forming on her cheek, but she doubted Nightwing could see it.
"I'll be fine," she finally said as she stood. "Thanks, that's two I owe you now."
"You can pay me back by no longer walking alone at night. You got a boyfriend?" he asked.
"Single as a pringle," she said.
"Then get a friend," Nightwing said. "Maybe muggers would stop targeting you if you weren't alone."
"I'll work on that," Regan said. "Shouldn't you be…?" she pointed down the alley where her almost rapist had run.
"Oh, yeah, I do need to go get him," Nightwing said. "Nice seeing you again, Miss Knight." Then he was gone.
It was only after she'd gotten home and was eating dinner that she realized- she'd never told him her name, before.