Warning: Some Language . . .

"You know you could have the wedding here," Bruce suggested as he walked down the stairs with Dick. "It would be safer."

"We will have located Deadshot before the date Elle and I settled on," Dick reassured him. "Safety won't be an issue."

"That doesn't make the suggestion any less valid," Bruce told him. "We have plenty of room. The ballroom is large enough and it wouldn't take an excessive amount of work to set up the pool house for a reception or vice versa if Elle would prefer that."

"She wants a church wedding and has given me a specific list of places she wants me to check out," Dick sighed. "You know, I thought the women did all this organizing. I never had to do a damned thing but show up for Kori's and my wedding."

Bruce clapped Dick on the shoulder in a gesture of male sympathy. "I think this one will be a lot larger than anything you and Kori had planned."

Dick paused and turned to face the man who had been so much to him. "The one thing that I'm very glad of is that you'll be at this one. I look back and . . ." he ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "I don't know what I was thinking back then. I was in such a hurry. My life was in shambles at the time. Hardly conducive to a successful start to any marriage."

"And this time is better?" Bruce asked gently.

"Things are . . . hectic, I suppose," Dick admitted.

"Hectic?"

He smiled. "It is different this time," Dick assured him. "I know what I want. With Kori, I was afraid of losing her at the time and things were . . . I don't know, messed up. I-I just was anxious to fix everything and that seemed the most convenient way to do it. That was wrong. I can see that now. But I also can see now that I would have forever regretted not having you be there to stand up with me."

"Of course, I'll be there for you, Dick," Bruce told him.

"As my best man," Dick blurted out quickly.

Bruce blinked. For anyone else, the reaction might as well have been a gasp of shock. "But you have Wally . . . And there's Roy . . ."

"And they are both my best friends," Dick nodded. "They always will be and then there is Jason and Tim . . . and Damian. They are all important to me, you're right, but Bruce . . . You've been my guardian, taking me in after my parents died when you didn't have to . . ."

"Dick," Bruce held up a hand to stop him.

"This is more than gratitude, Bruce," Dick interrupted the other man's objection. "You were my mentor. You've done more than anyone else in this world to shape me into the man I've become. You trained me and allowed me to become your partner in your war on crime. I don't know if I ever told you how much that meant to me back then but it still means the world to me."

"I don't tell you often enough," Bruce clasped Dick's neck and pulled him closer, "but I'm very proud of the man you've become. I look at you and think that maybe, in you, I find my redemption. You are the one thing I haven't manage to screw up . . ." he smiled, "although not for lack of trying."

"But more than all of that, Bruce," Dick continued before he could choke up. He needed to get this out. "You've been my father."

This time the startlement was noticeable. "Dick . . ."

"No, don't interrupt," Dick admonished firmly. "I've never forgotten my parents, Bruce, and I never will. I love them with all my heart, but you stepped into that role whether you meant to or not. The fact is, you've been my father twice as long as John Grayson had been." Dick licked his lips. "When you adopted me a few years ago, I couldn't tell you then how happy you made me. There were no words. I know that I don't use the Wayne at the end of my name now very often but it isn't because I'm embarrassed or ashamed of you. I-I love you, Bruce . . . just as much as I ever loved either of my parents."

Bruce stared at him, speechless. Dick had said something similar before once but never as clearly as he was now. Bruce never wanted to take the place of John Grayson but he was sincerely grateful to the man for the honor of raising Dick. He had long thought of the boy as his own son and now the boy was a man. Dick knew him better than perhaps anyone else in the world aside for Alfred. Bruce remembered the vow he had asked that boy to pledge so long ago and, in all the years he had known him, Dick had never once forsaken it.

"For all that Wally and Roy are my friends and Jason, Tim, and Damian are my brothers, they are not my best man," Dick told him earnestly. "That's you. It has always been you, Bruce, and I think that it always will be. I need you with me as I do this. Say yes . . . Please."

Bruce squeezed his son's shoulder firmly and nodded just once. "It would be my honor and a privilege to stand up with you, son."

Dick took a deep breath and let it out, and then he grinned. He grabbed Bruce and pulled him into a hug, slapping the older man's back as he laughed.

"Thank you, Bruce," he said as he pulled back. "This means a lot to me. You cannot know . . ."

Bruce snorted. "I never could say no to you," he shook his head as he moved across the foyer once more. "It's those damned puppy-dog eyes of yours."

Dick laughed in disbelief as he moved to catch up. "That's news to me," he objected. "I can remember a dozen times easily where you've told me no."

"That was different," Bruce told him over his shoulder. He pulled open the front door and stepped out. "I didn't want you getting hurt those times. Your safety was a factor. But all those other times . . ." he sighed.

Dick gaped at him as he yanked the door shut behind him. "I wish that I had known. I'd have asked for a hell of a lot more stuff."

Bruce laughed. "I can count on one hand how many times you've asked for something. I would have been happy to have given you anything . . . everything that money could buy but you never were a materialistic child. You have no idea of my frustration every birthday and Christmas."

Alfred had pulled the limo to the front and Hugh and Edward stood on either side of the car door waiting for them. Elle's idea of protecting Dick while he was in his civilian personae. He had Jason and Tim and Roy still following her while she shopped with her girlfriends, he supposed he could allow her bodyguards to tag along. But if anything did happen, it would put a crimp in his and Bruce's ability to go after whoever it was taking potshots at him.

He couldn't help but wonder how long it would take the two men to become suspicious if they hung around the manor for any length of time.

"I have millions of dollars at my disposal," Elle grumbled, "you'd think I would be able to have my dream wedding."

Jason had stationed himself between the group of women and the exit, leaning against one of the building supports and crossing his arms. He looks like a sentinel of old, austere and severe. The man was not happy to be escorting the group as they shopped around for bridesmaids' and wedding dresses. It didn't matter that Tim and Roy were sharing the chore with him, they got to scout outside the building while he was stuck in here.

They had been at it for six hours and if Elle was feeling a little bit grouchy, Jason was positively cantankerous. Shoppers and clerks alike avoided their side of the store as Jason lounged, angry and surly, at his guard post.

"Did you really think you would be able to find a designer dress a mere month before the wedding, sweetie?" Randi asked as they browsed. The lively, rowdy exuberance of the morning had given way to an afternoon of indifference.

"I never said that," Elle replied. "I was just kind of hoping . . ."

"What were you hoping?" Randi looked at her curiously.

"I don't know," Elle lifted a shoulder half-heartedly. "That the right dress would have been easier to find. I didn't expect it to be this stressful." This was their thirteenth dress shop in those six hours. "At least we already found the bridesmaids' dresses."

"I think we ate too much at lunch," Jasmine complained. "I hope I can still fit in mine."

Shannon hiccupped. "I think that maybe I shouldn't have had that third Long-Island iced tea."

Randi rounded on the blonde. "Are you drunk?"

Shannon made a face at her. "I'm not drunk! It takes more than that to get me sloshed. I just should have eaten more than that salad. I skipped breakfast, you know."

Elle looked up from the dozens of wedding dresses on the rack in front of her. "You're not dieting, are you?"

Shannon shrugged. "I wanted to look nice. Bruce Wayne is bound to have rich friends attending and maybe some 'other' sons still on the market . . ." She looked longingly over her shoulder at Jason's back.

Elle snorted, and slapped a hand over her mouth and nose, dipping down below the line of dresses to hide her laughter. Shannon shoved the dresses apart to glare at her.

"What? Don't you think he would like a girl like me?" she demanded to know.

If Shannon's eyes did look a little glassy, Elle ignored it. She didn't mind being the designated driver, especially when she wasn't the one who was actually driving. She grinned at her friend.

"Oh, sweetie," she smirked quietly. "Of course he would, but Jason's got more hang-ups than a telemarketer. Tell you what, I'll introduce you to a few people at the reception that you should go for."

Jasmine pushed aside a few dresses and poked her head through. "I expect the same treatment from you, you know."

"Ladies," Randi looked at them from above the rack. "There won't be a reception if we don't find the bride a dress."

Elle straightened up and glanced around her at the miles of white taffetas and tulles.

"And you guys thought I would find it here," she asked, "at Brides-R-Us Discount Warehouse?"

"My cousin Jeanine found her dress here," Shannon declared.

Jasmine rolled her eyes. "Elle isn't looking in the maternity section."

Randi ignored the two as she searched the rack in front of her for something with potential. Elle watched the two friends with amusement. Their taunts and teasing could sound cutting to anyone not knowing them but the two women actually enjoyed tossing insults back and forth. Neither ever seemed to take offense to what others might call fighting words.

Shannon pulled a dress off the rack and held it up. "Ooh, I like this one! What about this one, Elle?"

The dress in question had a plunging cleavage and stopped mid-thigh. It had to weigh fifty pounds so loaded was it with rhinestones and sequins. Elle thought she might have underwear that covered more flesh.

"Ah . . . No," she said with finality.

Shannon looked at the dress in her hand critically. "What's wrong with it?"

Jasmine answered. "Nothing, if she doesn't mind her guests thinking that her groom is marrying a hooker."

Shannon defended her choice. "You're just jealous that I have better taste. This is modern and fun and flirty . . ."

Randi interrupted. "Shannon, flirty is batting your eyelashes at a man. That dress says 'for twenty buck more, your friend can watch'."

Shannon shoved the dress back with a huff. "It would help if we knew what we were looking for," she muttered. "You haven't found anything that you've liked today, Elle?"

"I've found plenty that I've liked, but I'm getting married! It can't just be any old thing, you understand. I have to love it!" Just like any bride, Elle told them, "It has to be perfect."

Jasmine pulled out a dress and slid the hanger over her neck, letting the gown drape over her front. "What about this one?"

She stood at the end of the row and modeled it. It was strapless with a sweetheart neckline but from the waist down looked as though she was wearing a cloud, a very large cloud. The skirt was layers upon layers of ruffled tulle.

Elle was shaking her head. "That skirt looks like it could hide four grown adults under it."

Jasmine held out the skirt and twirled. "It makes me feel like a princess!"

Elle looked at her suspiciously. "How many drinks did you have with lunch?"

Jasmine laughed as she hung the gown back on the rack. "Only two and they really were just iced tea."

"So what are your preferences?" Randi asked as she browsed the gowns in her section.

After a moment, Elle answered. "Sleeves would be nice. It's still winter in Gotham."

"Well, that narrows it down by a lot," Jasmine commented. "About three-quarters of these dresses are strapless."

Randi lifted a gown from the rack next. "This one has sleeves. Don't know how warm they would keep you; they're lace."

Elle considered the gown. It was less gaudy than the previous dresses but form-fitting. "Better," she said. "Lace sleeves are better than nothing. Less bling is good as well. Something simple. Traditional with a modern edge. Romantic without miles of tulle. Oh, and a detachable train. That's important."

Her three bridesmaids exchanged looks.

"Okay, spread out," Randi ordered. "This place boasts ten thousand gowns in stock and it's already two o'clock."

"How many are left on your list?" Bruce asked as Alfred pulled out into traffic once more.

"One," Dick muttered.

He sat with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. They had spent nearly the entire day searching for a church that met the specifications that Elle had requested. Two had come near but, of course, were already booked. Bruce volunteered to assist the couple if they would be willing to change their wedding venue, but Dick wanted to check all the churches first. No sense in bribing a couple to wed elsewhere if the church wouldn't do.

Edward smirked from where he sat across from them. Hugh rode shotgun with Alfred. He was used to days like this. Although Bella hadn't been a particularly troublesome child, when she decided on something, nothing else would do. He and Hugh had often accompanied her younger self on searches for items or venues that fit her specifications. Thank God, she hadn't been difficult to please for long but Edward had memories of Bella at the onset of puberty. Those had been trying times, indeed.

"If it doesn't suit, you should speak with her first before making a decision," Edward suggested helpfully. "She isn't the kind to settle easily if her heart is set on something."

Bruce looked over at him curiously. "I have a hard time imagining Elle as spoiled."

"She might have been. Her father was doting," Edward admitted. "But she wasn't especially materialistic. But there were times, however, when she could be described as persistent and exacting. Because she was so easy to deal with the rest of the time, it wasn't hard to find yourself going out of your way to see that she got what she wanted on those few times when nothing else would do."

Dick smiled. "You definitely have her pegged."

"How long have you been with the family," Bruce asked.

"I worked as her mother's bodyguard from the time of their wedding until Bella was born, then I was assigned to her. Hugh came on after the . . . accident that killed her mother." Edward didn't look at them as he said this. It was clear that he still blamed himself that Cedric Hamilton had nearly lost the both of them that day. "That happened during my day off, otherwise, I would have been driving them. Someone else should have been assigned to them."

Bruce frowned. "And why didn't that happen?"

Edward's mouth tightened. "I've never been completely satisfied with the whys behind the mistakes that were made that day."

"You say that as if you suspect that the accident wasn't an accident," Bruce noted.

Dick looked over at Edward. "You believe it wasn't an accident, don't you?"

"The so-called experts claim the damage to the car was done when it fell into the sea but from what I saw, it appeared as though someone had slammed into the car and forced it off of the road," Edward muttered. "The investigation had been botched. Like I said, mistakes were made . . ."

"And what about after Elle told her story?" Dick asked.

"Bella was in the hospital for a while; she told me that she didn't remember much about that day," Edward told them. "As you must know by now, Bella heals exceptionally fast. She was in the hospital for three weeks. For Bella, that was unheard of, but she had a head wound and was unconscious for two days once she was rescued as well as having various other injuries." His jaw tightened at the memories. "No one understands how she survived it. Even with her ability to breathe underwater, Bella should have succumbed to her injuries. Mr. Hamilton kept her name out of the papers, so the newspapers nicknamed her 'Mireya' . . . It means miracle."

"Hugh came on after that," Dick said.

"Hugh came on because of that," Edward said, nodding. He smiled then. "Hugh was this rough, tough, Army Ranger. One of the best, by all accounts, and his slew of medals seem to confirm this. He walked into that hospital room and . . ." the man smirked, "immediately fell head over heels in love with Bella. She's had a couple of close calls since that time with a few lowlifes trying to get to her father or brother through her. Hugh even took a bullet for her once."

"Your dedication to your primary is to be commended," Bruce said. "Have either of you ever been tempted to move on?"

"Never," Edward shook his head firmly. "Didn't you hear me, Mr. Wayne? It was love at first sight. Hugh, when he met her at seven and me, the first time I saw her in her mother's arms after she was born. She's a lot more like . . . a favorite niece, I guess. We would die for Bella and that isn't just because it's in the job description."

Bruce frowned again. "Then why are you two here and not with Elle now?"

Edward sighed, crossing his arms and feet at the ankles as he relaxed a bit in his seat. "Because Bella is our employer, too. She insisted we look after Mr. Grayson. We agreed because of two reasons. One is because of the bond. Protecting you," he nodded at Dick, "is protecting Bella."

"And the second reason?" Dick asked this time.

"She occasionally remembers that we are employees and not family," Edward smirked. "She ordered us to accompany you. We might have mutinied but your brothers and that archer friend of theirs went with her. They saved her in Chicago against all odds." He looked directly at Dick. "You have some impressive friends; I have to say."

Dick was saved from commenting as Alfred pulled into another church parking lot. It was the last one on Elle's list, a Protestant church. Odd, but he didn't know Elle's belief system. That bothered him a little. Religion was such an important part of people's life; how did he not know this fundamental bit of information? All he was sure of was that she did believe in something greater than herself.

Dick was raised Catholic by his parents until he was eight. They weren't practicing exactly. The circus moved too often for his parents to be devout but they had tried to instill in him certain mores and ideals. They stuck with him, for the most part, in the back of his mind. Although Dick remembered and respected the church but he hadn't stepped into a church before today except for the occasional wedding or funeral. It could be considered ironic that he had entered more churches today than he had in sixteen years he had lived with Bruce and when he did, it was for the occasion of his own wedding.

Bruce, he knew, was agnostic. While his adopted father didn't completely discount the idea of a creator god, he worked with a goddess, after all, Bruce felt it wasn't something that anyone could truly know. Dick was torn between his parents' teachings and Bruce's logical approach to what he considered the unknowable.

Because Elle was insisting on a church wedding, it stood to reason that she believed in an omnipotent god. Dick glanced back at the list in his hand. Of those churches on the list, there were only two listed that were of the same denomination. Whatever Elle believed, she didn't apparently subscribe to any particular persuasion of Christianity. He worried a little, wondering if his own rather confused ideas would create a problem in renting the building.

Shoving the list into his coat pocket, first he had to determine whether or not the church met Elle's specifications. If it didn't, then this might all be moot and they would be married in the manor's ball room. He moved forward, his shoes crunching on the salt strewn sidewalk, all the snow from the other day now melted. Bruce was at his elbow and Edward took up his other side while Hugh had his back. All three men were taller than him so no one bothered to shove his head down for which he was enormously grateful. He wasn't used to being on the other side of the protection equation and he hated it.

But he wouldn't risk Elle's life . . . any more than she would willingly risk his.

A twinge moved inside his chest. He hadn't been out as Nightwing yet, not since he had gotten out of the hospital. He was going to have to rethink this whole thing. He already knew he couldn't give up that part of his life but then his life was no longer just his own. How to do this? How to continue the mission without risking Elle's life in the process?

They opened the door to the front of the church, a large, heavy, carved oak by the look of it, stained dark. Beautiful . . . The artisans that carved the door must have been men of deep faith for it was obviously a work of love. The two-story vestibule was built of a matte stone; not the shiny, rich marble of the other churches and cathedrals they had visited before but it wasn't any less impressive for it. Stone stairs wound up either side of the entrance leading up to a balcony level.

A balcony . . . That was high on Elle's list of necessary features but would it wrap around the sanctuary as she wanted it to? Gothic arched doors led off to parts unknown under the stairs and in front were another set of double doors that led into the main part of the church: the sanctuary. Dick opened the doors and caught his breath.

The sanctuary rose up to magnificent heights, easily three stories. The balcony did indeed extend the length of the sanctuary on either side. Stained glass depicted different scenes from the Bible in bold bright colors than decorated the interior with patterns of colored light both below and above the balcony. There were four rows of pews, two long rows and two shorter rows that were situated beneath either balcony. The floor, support columns, and walls were all the same stone of the vestibule and a deep red carpet lined the aisles leading to a three-story altar on a raised dais.

Although the designs that decorated the church were simple in comparisons to the more ornate churches Dick had been in earlier, it was no less impressive. Its lines were clean in comparison. It was decorated instead by its windows and the prismatic dancing light. The dais was quite large and rose up three steps, separated from the congregation by a low rail. A baptistry appeared high and against the rear wall with a carved, stylized cross hung above. There was an organ on one side and a grand piano on the other. The pulpit was raised higher and was off to one side. The choir loft was above the area on either side where the balconies culminated.

This was, Dick thought, exactly what Elle had been searching for.

"What do you think," Bruce asked him quietly. "The architecture is quite pleasing."

Bruce's voice resounded off of the stone around them. Dick grinned. The acoustics were fantastic. Elle would love this place.

"It's perfect," Dick declared.

"God is perfect, my son," a short, stocky man with blond, graying hair replied as he stepped out of an unobtrusive doorway in one corner of the sanctuary. He looked to be in his late forties/early fifties. "This is merely a building."

Dick smiled. "I merely meant that it is perfect for my fiancée's needs. She . . . and I, that is, we were hoping that we might be married here."

The minister stopped in front of them. "You may call me Bishop Matthews. You are not members of this congregation," he noted. "Do you attend worship elsewhere?"

"Yes," Bruce interrupted Dick. "But this will be a reasonably large affair and we needed a larger venue to accommodate the guests, you understand. Will that be a problem?"

Dick kept his expression neutral to hide his surprise. Edward and Hugh didn't know enough about them to realize that Bruce just lied through his teeth . . . Inside of a church, no less! And Dick merely smiled calmly and nodded. He was so going to hell for this.

The minister nodded his understanding and smiled serenely. Thankfully no booming voice had informed on them, announcing that they were fakers. The floor hadn't opened up and swallowed them whole. So far, so good.

"I suppose that would depend upon the when," he answered. "We are booked, I'm afraid, up until the fall of next year."

Dick's shoulders slumped. "This would be for the first weekend in March . . . This year."

"The couple that were scheduled on that date," Bruce began. "Do you think they would be receptive to negotiation?"

"Ah, that is not for me to say, Mr. Wayne," the minister told him.

"You know who I am?"

"I do. I realize that a man with your means is used to getting his own way but . . ." the minister started to say.

"It's just that time is a factor," Bruce interrupted and the pastor's eyes widened slightly.

Dick slapped a hand over his face at the inadvertent insinuation. "It's not like that, sir . . . Um, Bishop Matthews, sir. My fiancée's father left her a substantial inheritance and the will is being contested by her brother. He is a man of . . . rather ruthless ambitions. He hopes to call my fiancée's competence into question and take over her inheritance. It is likely, if he is made her guardian, that he could lock her away. If we were married before the trial, even if he was allowed to take her inheritance away from her, he wouldn't become her guardian."

Did that sound like the plot of some dime-store novel? Eyebrows rose as Dick's explanation went on. What must the man be thinking?

"That is a problem," Bishop Matthews agreed. "Have you considered a civil wedding?"

Dick sighed. "Elle . . . That's my fiancée. She has her heart set on a church wedding," he told him. "Normally, this wouldn't be a problem but with the time crunch . . . It just seems unfair that she would be denied her dream wedding because her brother is an asshole." Dick's mouth dropped open the instant it was out. "Uh . . . I'm sorry, Bishop! I shouldn't have said that. I'm just very frustrated. I apologize."

The bishop waved Dick's apology away. "I can understand, under the circumstances. I am sorry that I cannot be of more help but, even if the day was free, I would need to speak with you both as a couple first. I cannot take the chance that the brother might be correct and the young woman involved incapable of making a decision as monumental as marriage. Please, do not take offense, but I would owe it to the young woman in question to be certain she was not being taken advantage of by unscrupulous men."

Dick stiffened in response but Bruce laid a calming hand on his shoulder. "You need to see for yourself," Bruce interjected. "That seems a reasonable enough request."

"It makes no difference, I'm afraid," the minister told him. "The date is already booked for another party. They requested it more than a year prior. It wouldn't be right for me to ask them to move their date for the sake of another couple. There isn't another opening, like I said, for another year and a half."

"What are the couple's names," Bruce asked. "Perhaps they might change their minds if I offered to finance their wedding elsewhere. I'm sure, just starting out, they finances might be a little tight."

"I'm sorry but I am not permitted to give out that information," the bishop said. "However, if the couple should change their minds, I will be the first to call you. I wish you good luck and I will definitely keep you in my prayers."

"Of course," Bruce said quickly, before Dick could respond. "We thank you for your time and would appreciate it if you kept my son and his fiancée in mind should anything come up. Your church is quite lovely."

They exited without a word.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," Dick huffed, his breath crystalizing in front of him in the cold winter's air. "I don't even need to ask Elle's opinon. I knew the moment I saw it that this church is exactly the one she is looking for. Elle would love it."

Bruce didn't comment but did glance over his shoulder at the soaring stone edifice behind them, thoughtfully.

Alfred opened the door. "And how did it go, sirs. You were in there longer than you were in the previous churches."

Hugh slapped Dick on the shoulder in sympathy. "Sorry about that. So, a church wedding is out. I'm sure that Bella would be happy enough saying her vows anywhere. It's the bride and the groom that are important. Everything else is just gravy."

"Oh dear," Alfred moaned sympathetically as Dick climbed in the back silently.

"It will be alright, Alfred," Bruce paused before getting into the car. "We asked the bishop to keep us in mind should something open up."

Alfred blinked at the master's back. "Indeed," he murmured quietly.

"Yes! We're ready to go home now?" Jason bumped Elle's shoulder as she waited for the cashier to ring up her purchase.

She glanced at him with a sunny smile. She had found it. The dress she was looking for. It was perfect . . . or at least it would be once she had a seamstress fitted it and made a few other adjustments to personalize it for her. It wouldn't take much. The seamstress she had in mind, however, lived in Chicago. Elle would need to call her later and make arrangements to do a fitting and talk about what she wanted as soon as possible.

"Oh, you two make a cute pair," the cashier told them. "But it is unusual for the bride to let the groom see her gown before the wedding. I guess you two aren't superstitious?"

They looked at her startled.

"What?" Elle gaped and glanced at Jason. Pink flushed his face, too. "Oh no! We're not a couple."

Jason was shaking his head. "No way! I'm not marriage material. She's marrying my brother. I'm just here to . . ."

"He's escorting my bridesmaids and me around. We had a few drinks at lunch and he's the designated driver," Elle explained hurriedly.

Jason nodded rapidly. "Yeah, what she said."

The cashier blushed a little. "I'm sorry. You two seem so comfortable together and all."

Elle burst out laughing. "This is a lull, trust me. I'm fairly certain that if I give him enough time, I'll want to punch him in the face again."

"Oh, that seems a shame," the cashier blurted. She looked up at Jason shyly. "I mean it's such a nice face and all."

Jason smiled at the young woman and leaned casually against the counter. "Oh, yeah? You think so?"

Elle looked between the two in amusement. "Would you two like to be alone?" she asked. "I'm sure I can get Tim to drive us back or call a cab."

The woman blushed again and finished the sale. "Sorry," she apologized again as she handed Elle back her credit card. It didn't stop her from handing a card to Jason, however, before they left. "My number . . . My name's Cheri."

Elle rolled her eyes and grabbed her gown. "Thank you," she told Cheri but she highly doubted that the woman heard her. She tugged on Jason's jacket sleeve to regain his attention. "We're going out the car now. Don't take too long or I'll be forced to leave you behind."

As far as threats went, it wasn't much. She didn't think Jason would mind terribly if he were left to Cheri's dubious devices. She called to her girlfriends and started toward the door when Jason appeared in front of her.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled irritated at her again.

"I told you but, obviously, you were distracted at the time," Elle replied, amused. Her gaze slid to Cheri who was watching Jason at the door.

"Not so distracted that I don't remember that it's my job to look out for you. You don't go out until I clear it," he reminded her in no uncertain terms.

Randi frowned at his back as he stepped out of the store. "Is he serious? I just thought he was supposed to drive us around because you weren't that familiar with Gotham."

Jasmine looked worried. "Does this have anything to do with that home invasion thing that happened a while back? Are you in trouble or something?"

Elle should have mentioned it to her friends. It was their right to know but she didn't want to worry them. Still, there was a chance of a stray bullet striking one of them or someone crashing into their car. She was a horrible friend.

"Someone has been . . ." she started but Jason interrupted her.

"All clear. I pulled the car up." Jason looked at the worried faces of Elle's friends and the guilty look on hers. He sighed. "No worries, ladies. Just a stalker fan that followed Elle to Gotham. Dick didn't want to take a chance that he might bother you while you were shopping."

Elle frowned at him. Jason lied for her. "But . . ."

"I don't know about you but shopping for a wedding gown is exhausting," Jason held the door open for them. "I'm ready to call it a day."

Randi stared a second longer and then nodded. "I agree. I'm bushed. I need a nap before heading to the club. I'm singing tonight remember?"

Jasmine nodded but wasn't ready to let the stalker thing go. "You have someone following you? Girl! Why didn't you say something?"

"I-I . . . Uh, didn't want to worry you," Elle stuttered. That much was the truth anyway.

Shannon shoved Jasmine and Elle through the door and toward the car. "Randi's right. I have to be at work at six and will be there until closing. Let's go before I'm late."

"Wait! My gown," Elle exclaimed. "It needs to go in the trunk."

Jason pulled it out of her hand. "I'll get that. Full service driver and bodyguard," he announced, winking at Jasmine.

As hoped, Jasmine's concern flew out the window as Jason flirted and Shannon pouted.

"This is so not fair," she grumbled. "All the good guys flock to you three. I don't get it. I'm a blonde! They're supposed to go for me."

Elle climbed in and sat in the middle. She held up her hands. "Not me! I'm taken. No flocking in my direction, thank you very much."

Shannon sat across from her in the limo. "Yeah, well, Randi is tall and elegant. She looks like a model and sings like a dream. And Jasmine has got that perfect toffee-colored skin and those black soulful eyes . . ."

Randi leaned forward and took Shannon's hand. "You are a beautiful woman, Shannon, and very sweet and loyal to a fault. Any man would be lucky to get you."

Shannon sniffed. "You're just saying that because you have to. You guys are my friends!"

"Of course we are," Elle insisted. "Best friends!"

"And didn't Elle tell you that Jason had more hang ups than a telemarketer?" Jasmine reminded her.

Elle waved a hand as the driver's side door opened. "Sh! I don't want to hurt his feelings. Jason's going to be by brother-in-law! Don't say that out loud!"

"Don't say what out loud?" Jason asked as he slid into the driver's seat. His eyes met Elle's in the rearview mirror.

"Girl talk, Jason," Elle smiled and shrugged. "Just girl talk."

He snorted and started the limo. After a glance to ensure that Roy and Tim were prepared to follow on their cycles at a discreet distance, he pulled out of the parking lot and into traffic.

No shots were taken at them today and for that, Jason was grateful. The search for Deadshot would start in earnest tonight. He was ready to get off of this ride. He was liking Elle more every day, certainly learning to respect her, and her friends were easy on the eyes but babysitting duty to this particular bunch of women drove him more than a little bit nuts.

The sooner this gig was over the better he would like it.

REACTIONS? I really want to hear from you this time!

Did anyone doubt that Bruce would Be Dick's best man? I'll admit I considered Wally and even Jason (but he and Jason hadn't gotten that close yet) but this is Bruce . . . If you're still in doubt, go back and reread what Dick says when he asks him.