Besides not wondering how Alfred knew exactly when he was needed, G had also given up wondering how Alfred worked so much magic. His initial thoughts had run the gamut from time machines through actual magic including but not limited to ritual sacrifices, through a tesseract hidden somewhere in the depths of the cave.

Whatever Alfred's secret, he'd managed to alter one of Bruce's spare suits to fit G - despite the body armor and weapons pouches worked into the suit. G bent at waist and knees, checking his mobility.

"I trust everything is satisfactory, Master G?" Alfred asked, with a tone that implied everything had damned well better be satisfactory.

"It's not my old suit," G said, "but for tonight, it'll be fine."

Alfred's lips pressed together, and G suppressed a grin. Sometimes, the old man was too easy to bait.

Sam's approach saved him from whatever scathing remark Alfred would have made in return.

"Comms," was all Sam said before he handed an earwig to G. G inserted it in his ear, then settled the cowl and cape in place.

"Still haven't gotten Bruce to give up the cape," G murmured. "Gotta work on that."

"Why?" Babs' voice came through the comm.

"Too easy to grab," Sam answered for him. "Too easy to use against him."

"It resembles bat wings," was all Babs said in response, and G almost laughed at Sam's baffled expression.

"Bruce is a little obsessed with the bat-thing," G said.

A little? Sam's raised eyebrow countered the observation, and this time G did chuckle.

A flicker of movement caught G's eye and he turned to see Robin in civilian clothes heading for his own suit.

"Hey, now," G said. "What're you doing?"

"Suiting up," Robin answered, as though it were obvious. Which, G reflected, it was, but that didn't answer the more pressing question.

"Why?"

"So I can have your back out there." Robin didn't say duh! but he might as well have.

"No," G said, and was pleased when Sam and Alfred echoed it.

"What do you mean, no?" Robin crossed his arms over his chest, and when he had his full growth and another twenty years of life experience, G thought the pose and expression might actually be intimidating.

"Because I don't know you," G answered. "I don't know how you fight, how you'll react to situations - hell, I don't even know your name."

Robin started to speak, but G held up a hand. "No, I get it, and I'm fine with it. But you're not coming into the field with me under those conditions."

"But -"

G turned to Sam. "How long have we been partners?"

Sam shrugged. "Five years, give or take."

"I know how Sam thinks, how he responds," G told Robin. "I can anticipate him, and he can anticipate me. That anticipation has saved our asses a dozen times. The lack of it would've gotten us killed at least as many. I owe Bruce, but I'm not getting myself killed for him."

At least, not if he could help it. G wasn't ignorant or stupid - he knew the kind of life Bruce lived, knew that any night he went out could be the last. But he wasn't going to increase those odds.

"You can't stop me from going out tonight," Robin said.

"Yes," Sam answered seriously. "We can."

"But they don't have to," Babs cut in. "They're right, Rob - you know that. Besides, weren't you telling me earlier that you have homework to catch up on?"

Robin looked mulish. "How long have you been out of the field?"

"I'm still in the field," G replied. "Not in a cape and cowl, not with fancy gimmicks - but I'm in the field."

"And in the field, I have his back."

Even G blinked at Sam's tone. There was no arguing with it, nor with the man who said the words.

"Sam -" G began, only to have Sam's glare turn on him. It had been a long time since his partner had glared at him like he meant it, and G forced himself to stand his ground.

"I have your back," Sam said deliberately. Then he turned to Robin and spoke in the same tone. "You - do your homework."

Robin wanted to protest, G saw that, but instead he just scowled and moved away from the equipment toward the stairs to the manor.

From her position at the computer, Babs said, "I bet your kids hate that tone."

Sam grinned. "You have no idea." Then he turned to G. "So how's this gonna work?"

"I monitor the police bands from here," Babs said. "And when I hear about something that's, well, Batman-level, I pass on the information. It's up to Batman how to handle it."

"And I'm thinking that shouting, federal agent, freeze isn't the best way to handle it," Sam said dryly.

"Usually not," Babs answered equally dryly.

G looked between the two of them. "I'm doomed."

Their matching grins sent a shiver down his spine.

In the end, it was both better and worse than G had expected.

Better, because he tried a simple jumpline swing from Von Gruenwald Tower to the top of a nearby building and found that muscle memory kicked in - even if the landing was a bit sloppier than he would've liked.

After that, he swung from building to building easily - even if his muscles would protest tomorrow.

Worse, because it was too easy to fall back into the vigilante mindset. More than once, Sam's gentle reminders of, "Evidence, G - you need evidence," or "Don't beat him up - just stop him," helped him remember who he was now - who he had chosen to be now.

Still, by the time the night was over, he'd interrupted two muggings in progress by sheer chance, as well as prevented a jewel thief from escaping by climbing up the wall of the building.

G intercepted the would-be thief on the roof with a grin and a right hook that put him down for the count. G secured him to the fire escape along with the stolen jewels, then watched from a roof across the street until the GCPD arrived to make the arrest.

He moved more than Bruce would have, to make sure he drew their attention as he leapt off the roof, jumpline at the ready. It was a message for police and criminals alike, that Batman was still on the job.

G slid into the driver's seat of the Batmobile, surprised to find it was barely one in the morning. He remembered later nights when he was Robin.

But when he was Robin, he'd been both a lot younger and a lot more eager to take on the world with nothing but a partner and a few gimmicks at his side.

Things haven't changed much. At least on the outside.

Inside, suddenly G felt older than his years. He knew they'd want him to go out a few more times - probably every other night while he was here. And that brought his discussion with Alfred and Sam's question from earlier to the forefront of his mind.

When would it be time to disconnect Bruce's life support?

G turned the question this way and that as he aimed the Batmobile toward Wayne Manor, activating a half-dozen different electronic scramblers and countermeasures to be sure he wasn't tracked.

The cave was, thankfully, empty when he returned. He stripped out of the suit and pulled on his jeans and Henley. After returning the suit to its stand, he set the Batmobile to charge its fuel cells and turned toward the stairs that led back into the manor proper.

G supposed he shouldn't be surprised when Sam was waiting for him, a glass of whisky in each hand.

G took the glass Sam offered him, raised it to his partner. "Thanks for having my back."

"Anytime, partner." Sam touched his glass to G's. "Didn't sound like you needed much help, though."

"More than you think." G crossed to a chair, dropped into it. "Do I want to know how you convinced Alfred to go to bed before I got back?"

"I didn't."

G raised an eyebrow at him. After a moment, Sam's lip twitched.

"I convinced Barbara. She convinced him."

G chuckled and finally took a sip of the whisky.

"So?" Sam asked.

"So what?"

Sam gave him an exasperated look. "So - debrief."

"Why? You heard it all."

"Not the debrief I meant." Sam tapped his temple with a forefinger, and G blew out a breath.

"Not as bad as it could've been," was his conclusion.

"You thinking of coming back here permanently?"

"Hell no." G spoke almost before Sam finished the question. "That's not who I am anymore, Sam. I walked away from that name, that life."

"You were the one worried about falling back into the mindset."

And even here, now, after the operation was over - and, G realized with a start, that's how he was thinking of it, as an operation - Sam had his back.

"I didn't," G said. "Really."

"Really." Sam's tone wasn't so much doubting as asking for confirmation. G could give him that.

"Really. It was tempting, and I slipped a couple of times, but ultimately it was me doing what I do best - playing a role. You kept me from going too far."

"Then what was it?"

G took another sip of whisky, savoring it to buy him time to answer, because he had to answer, and this was Sam, and he had to give Sam the truth. He didn't have to be happy about it.

"It was the rush," G said finally. "One jump off a rooftop, and it's like I was eight or thirteen or sixteen again. But I'm not, and those days are behind me."

Sam studied him over a sip of his own whisky. "You sure?"

"I'm sure." And he was. He'd rarely been more sure of anything, in fact, and that certainty warmed him as much as the whisky.

"So what now?" Sam asked.

G let out a silent sigh, and with it, the last of his barriers. Not that he had many barriers with Sam after so long a partnership. "Now… I sit watch with Bruce, and go out a couple more times, and then I go home."

Sam nodded, once. "Okay. How can I help?"

"I have no right to ask you -"

"G." Sam's tone was gentle, but firm. "We're partners. You have every right."

"To keep you away from Michelle and the kids, when it's not work-related?"

"Yeah. We're more than partners, G. We're friends. And you said it yourself, Michelle likes you. How can I help?"

G swallowed past a sudden tightness in his throat. "Have my back when I go out again. Remind me who I am and why I'm here."

Sam snorted. "I thought you were gonna ask something hard."