I'm in the form of a peregrine falcon when I hear someone walk into the room.

"Hey, a little bit of New York came by."

If he only knew.

Jason snorts.

Dick grins. "Timmy!"

I take in this "Timmy". He's a little taller than me and like Dick, Jason and Bruce, he's got black hair and blue eyes.

Since I can't use two powers at once, I decide to simply shift back then roll my eyes. "Brooklyn, actually."

His eyes widen. "You're a Meta?"

"Yep." I pop the p. "Got a fucking problem with it?"

"No. Just, well...What else can you do?"

"The shape-shifting is only into birds but not a phoenix, like my name. I can also heal and teleport."

He grins. "A jumper. Very Steven Gould."

I nod. "Personally, I call it porting." I fake gag. "The Jumper movie was shit."

"Seconded! But one must not judge a book by its movie. Hey, there's a really good Fall Out Boy song called The Phoenix. Have you ever heard it?"

"Nope. But I do like the Halestorm song I Am the Fire."

"That anything like the song Girl on Fire?"

"Fuck, no! Lzzy's way more awesome."

I don't say that she's like my hero but I do say she did a version of Shed Some Light with Brent Smith from Shinedown.

Dick smiles. "I like the Shinedown song Never Gonna Let Go. I sang it for Babs after we married."

I smirk, hiding the slight embarrassment I feel over not noticing his ring earlier. "So you're an acrobat."

He curses under his breath then scuffs. "Well, I guess you should know the word you are looking for is aerialist, actually."

I clap sarcastically. "Bra-vo. Now do a trick."

He rolls his eyes then does a flip, lands on his hands and proceeds to walk around the room on them.

Shit, he makes it look so fucking effortless. Like he's riding a bike, though, maybe, I should say a unicycle. Not that I really know much about the circus. I fucking hate clowns.

He gets up and bows over-dramatically.

I chuckle and clap. "Yay for Dickie Wayne."

He sniffs. "For your information, I am a Grayson."

"And I'm a Drake."

"I'm a Storm who's now wondering if this is Wayne Manor, where are the fucking Waynes?"

"I'm the last of the "fucking" Waynes. My parents, as everyone but you know, Phoenix, were killed by a robber when I was 8."

My eyes widen but I quickly regain my composure. "Well, I'm not going to pity you for that. In fact, I'm pretty fucking sure pity's something nobody in this room wants."

"Crude but aptly put, miss."

"Uncultured? Me? That's fucking rude, Jeeves. I've been to more museums than I care to remember."

Jason barks a laugh.

"Well, we do have fine art here, miss, if you ever care to see it."

I smirk. "Any Jackson Pollock?"

Tim laughs. "Damn, you're quick."

I shrug my shoulders. "It's a Brooklyn thing, whaddaya expect? Oh, and Alfred?"

"Yes, miss?"

"It's libraries Brooklyners like. I got my first card when I was 3."

"Well, that means we both like reading. What's your favorite genre?"

"Fantasy." I don't say it's because I read to escape. To immerse myself in the story and tune out the world.

"So Tamora Pierce is a favorite?"

I can't help but flinch at the name Pierce.

"You were abused by a family ccalled Pierce, weren't you?"

I glare at Bruce. "What, are you afucking detective or some shit? Because, if you aren't, it's so none of your fucking business, asshole!"

He puts his hands up. "Easy there."

I narrow my eyes, now in a full blown Brooklyn rage and roar. "EASY? FUCK YOU!"

I knock him to the ground. "You just don't get it, do you, rich boy?"

I calm down as he picks himself up. "You just don't know. Can't understand what it's like."

I slowly take my hoodie off then, after tying it around my waist, show my bruises and flip him off with both hands. "Fuck your easy."

Dick gasps. "Firecracker, did your family do this to you?"

I shake my head. "They were no fucking family of mine, that's for sure. Sometimes I think it's something I never really had."

"So you were a foster child. Did you know your birth parents?"

I clench and un-clench my fists then decide to put it in a way I hope they might not get. "They gave the Emily to Jessie treatment when I was 10."

Dick's eyes widen.

Oh, fuck, he knows! He fucking knows!

And, judging by the look on his face, so does "Timmy".

"They abandoned you, Firecracker?"

God, I hate the concern in his voice. Like he's afraid I'll break.

I angrily tell him so.

"How old are you, anyway?"

"I'm 12, Moneybags."

"12 and you're already almost as tall as me. Man, I hate being short."

I snicker, remembering my parents were tall. "Well, to add insult to injury, I should admit that I'll prolly pass you in a few years."

He scowls. "Great. Thanks so much for telling me that. It totally gives me something to look forward to."

I grin. "No fucking problem! Now, howzabout you play me that Fall Out Boy song you mentioned?" I rub my hands together. "I do like me some music."

He rolls his eyes then grins. "As the firebird wishes."

Oh, this is so totally going to be put on my iPod!Fir