Dick decided to use one of Bruce's stowaway apartments in the city. Those were apartments in which his surrogate father needed to get away from the hustles and bustles of crime fighting, politics, and the like. Honestly, Dick knew it was actually for the company he keeps. That was his father - secretive and covert was the key. It seems that Dick was following well into his footsteps.

He poured a bottle of whiskey into his cup. He rattled the ice so his liquor could chill. Speaking of chill, he turned as the sleeping Barbara was combating the chills from her hangover. He allowed the liquor to wait a bit longer as he focused on his sister. What happened to her? What warranted her to change in such a way? He often blamed himself, not there when he needed it to be. If he wasn't focusing on saving the city instead of saving those close to him, then things may be different. Then, there was the other side of his brain, wanting her to take the blame as he wasn't at any fault. No one told her to take the glasses, pour the liquor into her throat, sleep with random men and women. If there was pain, then seek counseling, go to rehab.

Dick removed his peacoat and covered over Barbara. Her cheeks were flushed like a cherry-red tomato. Her hair was unkempt and tangled. For some reason, he found it cute. Seeing her at her worst, seeing her where she was in need of a savior - whoever he was.

As the driver continued en route to his private bungalow, he contacted Bruce. He didn't say much but to let him know that he got her. He closed his cell phone and lied his arms on the padding of the seat.

Sniffling noises were coming from the end of the seat. A tiny cry was released from the shaken kitten.

"Dick. Don't leave me. Don't leave me alone."

He shut his eyes, trying to combat the emotions at hand. He tried not to think about the days before. They were kids. He tried to remind himself that they were only kids. Kids at an impressionable age in which exploring oneself was to be normal. They were children, curious to the world only for the adults.

"Dick, don't leave me. Don't leave me, please."

He rested his hand on her shoulder. He rubbed gently as the word itself. He shifted his eyes away to the window as he watched the endless skyscrapers in the view. No matter what, no matter when. In the city that never sleeps, someone is wanting someone. Somebody wants to be loved.

Even when he saw her in the drunken stupor at that rooftop, he couldn't combat the feelings within. Defected and misbegotten, born as it were on the wrong side of the tracks. That wasn't the Barbara he had known, fought, loved, and studied under Batman's tutelage. His mind began flooding like a swimming pool, consumed with the anguish and frustration that the other half of his brain combated him on. Why would you care about Barbara? Why does it matter about her? Did you forget what she has done to you?

"Don't leave me, Dick. Don't leave me, please."

He cursed under his breath. He didn't know why. Was it for himself? His pride? Barbara? Be as it may, he made it in his mind on what he needed to do.

"Winston," he said to his driver. "Contact my date of the evening and tell her that there will be a change of plans."

"What excuse do you want me to give her, Mr. Grayson?"

Dick blew through his teeth. "Family emergency."

Later….

"Wake up, Barbara."

Barbara slowly drifted her eyes opened. Her vision was blurry, mostly due to the amount of liquor she had consumed. She tried fixating her eyes to focus on the person in front of her. Upon rubbing her eyes, she saw that it was the Boy Wonder.

"Where are we," she said slurringly.

"At my apartment," he said to her. It was the truth admittedly. Barbara slowly drifted her eyes to the window where she saw the parking garage. The concrete barrier, a plaque written in gold saying Dick's name confirmed his truth. She turned to see his flattened face. She sat up as she covered herself in his jacket and his peacoat. "What happened to your date?"

"I wasn't in the mood tonight." He scratched under his arms. "I want to call it the night. And besides, I think it is rude for both parties to have unwanted guests."

Barbara narrowed her eyes. She had to be guarded. Only God knew what Dick could do. Yet again, there shouldn't be any concern. Nevertheless, trust was still an issue. Unsure it was for him or for herself. Before she can speak, he raised his finger.

"I remembered. Shower and a bed. No funny business," he confirmed to her adamantly. "I have my maid on standby to escort you at all times. I won't be in the vicinity of anywhere you might be. I will keep my distance to the study and to my neighboring bedroom. You can stay the night and I can be gone before you wake up. That way you can feel secure and not worry about any interference. Got it?"

Dick opened the door and stepped out. He didn't even once look back as he headed for the elevator. Barbara watched Dick walking with the driver until he boarded the elevator. Once the doors were closed, the driver walked back toward the limo for Barbara.

"Ready, Ms. Gordon," asked the driver casually as he opened the door. Barbara wasn't used to this kind of service. Actually, she has but lately the only time men would approach her was for another high or for a cheap thrill. As of now, it was refreshing that none of them had ulterior motives. Barbara nodded as she held the jackets and stepped out of the car. The driver took the jackets as she headed toward the elevator. She was dazed, still drunk from earlier on the rooftop.

"Shall I assist you, Ms. Gordon," asked the driver.

"I am okay, thanks," she said as she continued to walk.

The driver held the door for the elevator as they entered. He pressed a few buttons before inserting a key into the slot. Dick always manages to live lavish where he needs to be discreet was the first thought that came to her mind. Actually, it was closest to something nice she had thought about him the entire night.

So, how much are you going to charge her?

With her, I can offer you a thousand an hour.

A thousand an hour? Is she that great?

One of the finest out this side of Gotham.

I am not sure. Care to get a sample?

She is the police commissioner's daughter. If anything, I should double the price.

Police Commissioner Gordon? You aren't serious?

Care to check for credentials?

What reason would Daddy's Girl be here?

A thousand an hour or not?

I will do you one better. Five thousand for the entire night.

Five thousand? Way beyond my standard rate.

Let's say me and the boys have some feelings we need to relieve out on her for the Commissioner's sake.

Well, well, well. Can't stop people from externalizing their frustration. Five thousand it is.

To be continued….

A/N: Hey, guys! Have mercy on me. It has been a while since I have written a chapter for this series. I promise to write more into this particular arc. Thanks for reading.