A/N- Another chapter of this lovely crossover is now ready for your viewing! It's one of my longest yet, because I kept getting carried away with myself. I really put my nose to the grindstone on this one, and while I feel I had a lot of expectations riding on this chapter (in my head anyway), it turned out well. The meeting of two universes is always hard, especially when you're expecting so much from both. You're looking to see how the characters react, and who will mesh and who won't, and all the while you're trying to keep everyone in character and true to their respective portrays. It's pretty exhausting. The phrase 'What Would Gibbs Do' will eventually drive you crazy, I've found.

I want to thank Crawcolady and Cindar for their wonderful reviews. You guys are awesome!


Chapter 3

The team pulled up into the Bludhaven Police Department parking lot, and instantly McGee was scrambling out of the car, his breath labored and his face devoid of any color as he leaned over his knees. Tony chuckled as he, Ziva, and Gibbs all smoothly made their way out of the vehicle. "That is a lovely shade of eggshell, McQueasy. Bet you wish you hadn't eaten that third burrito now, huh?" McGee groaned in response, but slowly rose to follow them into the one story building.

Once inside, Tony couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Bludhaven. They were understaffed, over budget, and were clearly just keeping their heads afloat. In a town that was overrun with criminal activity and economically floundering, it was always police departments that got hit hardest. It was obvious from their outdated computers and peeling paint on the walls that they were due for a renovation, but were making due with what they had. Poor suckers. Tony made a mental note to stop complaining about the air conditioning back at their offices.

A long counter ran the length in front of them, and behind the cheap stucco material sat two receptionists. They were completely preoccupied, but not with the computers off to either side of them. The blonde and the brunette, both very attractive in Tony's book, didn't even notice the doors open at the front of the building. They only had eyes for the cop leaning his elbows onto the counter, who was still fully dressed in his navy blue officer uniform. Man, how does a guy get that lucky, Tony wondered as both women blinked seductively at the officer.

The blonde laughed, and placed her hand against the cop's arm. "No way Dick. Well, if you can, I'd love to come on a ride along with you. Obviously you'd keep me safe." Tony smirked. Obvious much?

The brunette glanced up and saw the group standing there by the door. Tony saw the moment she switched from sorority girl to professional, and it just made him want to laugh out loud. Although he could hardly fault the guy…rule number 12. "How can I help you," she asked.

The cop turned to face the group, and immediately Tony saw why the two women were engrossed in their conversation with the officer. The man, who was actually barely a man and more a late teenager, looked like he belonged on the front of a billboard, not in a crumbling city's poor police department. He had a defined jaw and a slight olive complexion, and swept back midnight hair. But it was his eyes that really caught Tony's attention – the young man's eyes were a startling sapphire blue, like that of a gem. He wasn't sure he had ever seen eyes that…blue.

In the instant it took for Dick to turn around, Tony saw the young officer see their group and make eye contact with him. And in that split second he saw it – a spark of recognition went across Dick's face. It was a mixture of surprise and glee so fleeting that Tony almost wasn't sure he saw it. Dick's face had only betrayed him for a second, and now Tony watched on as the officer's face showed nothing but interest at the new arrivals. Maybe he was just imagining things.

"Are you guys the NCIS agents?" His eyes were bright and curious, but Tony suspected he already knew the answer to his own question.

"Yes. We're here to speak to Lieutenant Seeder," Ziva replied. The young man observed her for a minute, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and then nodded.

"Follow me." He gave a wave to the receptionists and turned and headed further into the police station. As they followed him down a musty hallway, Tony couldn't help but wonder what the look the kid had given him was. It was definitely weird, and he knew enough from Gibbs to know when to follow his gut.

They stopped on the edges of the bullpen, and the NCIS agents stood as Dick exchanged a short word with a fellow officer. "Well," he said, turning back to them, "Lieutenant Seeder is in a meeting right now, but you can wait here while he wraps things up." He gestured to some plastic waiting room chairs that looked like they'd seen better days. "Feel free to wait here. Apparently he shouldn't be too long."

Ziva smiled her appreciation. "Thank you Officer…"

"Grayson. Dick Grayson." He shook her hand, and Tony squinted. Grayson…the name struck a bell somewhere in the undusted corners of his mind. Why did that name sound so familiar to him? Maybe it was just the near James Bond quote getting to him.

The team settled into the chairs. Tony wasn't the neatest person in the world, but something about these chairs definitely made him want to ask for something sterile to wipe them down with. Dick sat at the desk nearest them gingerly, and turned on the monitor to the computer. No flat screen or LED monitors for Bludhaven, no sirree. God, that thing was a dinosaur.

Tony couldn't resist. Being the closest one to Dick, he leaned closer. Dick's eyes met his in an instant. "You gotta tell me…those receptionists at the front desk…as good as they seem?"

Dick's face split into a wide grin, and he let out a short laugh as he rolled his eyes. "Carly and Samantha? Are you serious?" Tony could feel his team's eyes on the back of his head following the conversation.

Tony gave him an answering smile, and he cocked his head in confirmation. "Well yeah. It was pretty obvious from where I was standing. Not bad, dude."

"No way. They asked me to help with the new security system for the station. We recently updated to the Wenz 3000 model, and they were having trouble with it."

Tony raised his eyebrows at that. Please. Either this kid's spirit animal was a virgin or he had no idea of the raw sexual power he possessed over the women around him. He clearly needed to be educated. "That's not what it looked like to me. And believe me, I have a sense for these things."

Dick looked bemused as he leaned back in his chair. "I think you may want to get your senses checked. Besides, I don't date coworkers."

Huh. Who would've known the little stud muffin had his own rule 12? Tony could feel an inkling of respect drift from him to the raven haired officer.

On Tony's left, McGee leaned forward a little in his chair and directed his attention toward Dick. "I couldn't help but overhear…Did you say the Wenz 3000 model?"

Oh God. Tony could practically feel the nerdage seeping from McGee just from those seven words. McGeek was on the tip of a full out nerd attack, where words spewed out of him that made no sense and held no meaning in Tony's mind. And he didn't know what he could do to stop him.

Dick glanced at the computer and back at McGee. "Yeah, I convinced the Lieutenant to convince the chief to get it for us. The way I figured it, this way we're at least covered on this end, even if we aren't on the streets."

McGee leaned forward further, like a kid with a shiny new toy. "How does it run?" God, it wouldn't be long before he was skipping.

Dick grinned conspiratorially. "Like a charm. It takes a little getting used to, but it's so worth it. Targeted attacks on suspicious IP addresses, with a constant watch on all activity in the system, and the ability to quarantine threats as soon as they breach the outer wall."

Oh my god. Tony couldn't believe it. Dick was one of them – he was a techie. He never would have imagined Dick gushing technobabble and being the next Elf Lord, but now he didn't know. Obviously he'd judged the kid at first glance. Now he had nerd to add to the list of things Dick was.

McGee practically sighed. "Man, you're so lucky."

Dick let loose a short laugh, but looked up beyond the group. Entering the bullpen and heading toward the seated team could be no other than Lieutenant Singer. He was a medium sized guy, obviously built, with thick wavy blonde hair. He sidled straight toward Gibbs. "You Agent Gibbs?" His voice was gruff and firm.

Gibbs stood and took his outstretched hand. "I am. And this is my team." The rest stood and each took his beefy hand in turn, introducing themselves as they went.

The lieutenant addressed them all. "I'm glad you're here. Honestly, we're capable of dealing with the basics here, because that's what Bludhaven is about. But once we get into the real involved stuff, I feel much more comfortable letting the professionals do what they do best, whether it be the feds or Nightwing. We're not exactly equipped, as I'm sure you've heard. And I see you've met Grayson here." He clasped a large hand on Dick's shoulder, and Tony could have sworn he saw the young man wince momentarily. "If not for him, we might have lost Officer Rohrbach last night. He kept a very cool head, as I'm sure you've read in the report."

For a second, Tony was speechless. As Gibbs responded back with a chilly "We didn't receive a report," Tony was trying to wrap his head around the fact that the kid they'd spent the last 30 minutes with was actually who they'd needed to find all along. Right here in front of them this whole time. This was the kid who pulled the trigger on the shot that rivaled Gibbs, the newbie who'd saved his partners life and set new hiscores on most of his academy tests. Not that Tony knew that last one for certain – after all, Officer Talbot had said they were looking for a Jason, which they obviously weren't.

He was seeing Dick Grayson in a whole new light, and Tony could feel the others beside him doing the same thing—taking a moment to analyze the young man before him. McGee looked at him with incredulous surprise, like he was some foreign object that he couldn't understand, even though they'd been chatting less than a minute before. Obviously Tony wasn't the only one having trouble fitting Dick into a category that made sense. Ziva, on the other hand, was appraising him with the curiosity of a cat. Tony could practically see her tail flicking.

Lieutenant Singer frowned. "I know we faxed one to your office this morning. I'm sorry about the confusion—I can get you another."

Tony could have sworn he saw Gibbs mouth drift upward a tiny, tiny bit. "That's alright. We can conduct an interview if it's all the same."

The lieutenant glanced at Dick and back, and shrugged. "That's perfectly fine with me. Officer Grayson is at your disposal, seeing as Officer Rohrbach is still in the hospital. I can give you a meeting room if you need it." Gibbs nodded and Singer led the way down another hallway to a room with a long, scratched wooden table and dry-erase boards lining the walls.

Dick settled into a chair across from Gibbs, and Singer took his leave, closing the door with a tap behind him. An uncomfortable silence settled into the room as everyone stared at Dick with varied expressions, and he looked on at Gibbs, his face carefully innocent. Ziva leaned up against the wall behind Gibbs, and Tony sat in a chair backwards a few feet from the table, his head resting on his crossed arms. McGee sat a chair down from Gibbs, his eyes lazering in on Dick.

Gibb's spoke first. His voice carried across the ocean of silence. "Why didn't you tell us you were Dick Grayson?"

Dick smirked at him. "Isn't that what I introduced myself as?" God, who knew this kid was such a smartass?

Gibbs's stare at the young cop was quickly bordering upon a glare. "Why didn't you tell us you were the one at the scene of the crime?"

Tony could have sworn the smirk on Dick's face was growing, which was a surprise considering the look Gibbs was leveling at him. Most normal people would be peeing their pants a little by then. "You never asked."

Tony had to interrupt at this point. "Didn't you suspect as NCIS agents we were here to talk to you about last night?"

The officer shrugged. "You said you were here to see Lieutenant Singer. As for talking to me, well, you could have read my report. It was very thorough."

"I don't want to read your report," Gibbs nearly growled. Tony watched on as Dick watched him for a moment. It almost looked like Dick was analyzing Gibbs, assessing him and sizing him up, not as a threat, but seemingly with…respect. All the while a small smile played on the corners of his lips.

He then sat up straighter in his chair, and Tony saw his face transform into something different. Something more serious, and not Dick at all. "I was on a patrol with Officer Rohrbach when we received a call for a 245, an assault with a deadly weapon, on Roosevelt and 9th. We responded. When we arrived at the parking lot, there was no one in sight. Rohrbach got out of the car, and three shots fired from the spot where the assailants had hidden. There were three men, two assailants and one victim, who was a Marine and somehow impaired. Rohrbach fired three more rounds, and the perps hid behind a car. They fired three more times, and my partner was hit in the shoulder twice and went down. I moved to assist her, but they started firing on the car. I exited out the other side while they continued shooting. After a moment, I got a visual and saw one of the assailants running away but didn't have time to get a lock on him. The other man stayed with the victim, and it was clear they were arguing. I had a clear shot on him, and I took it." Dick's face grew dark and cloudy. "I hit him in the chest. I approached the scene, and saw the Marine had been stabbed in the chest. The other man was dead. I returned to my partner and called an ambulance and tried to stop the bleeding." Tony stared. Well that was…thorough.

Gibbs nodded. This military precision was obviously something he could understand and appreciate. "What can you tell us about the three men?"

"The man who ran away was 5'9", roughly 170 pounds, with short blonde hair. He was wearing a black long sleeve shirt and dark jeans. My best guess as to his identity would be assassin or contract killer of some variety."

DiNozzo held up a hand. "Wait, backup there newbie. Are you telling me that you think a man who wet his pants a little at the first sign of conflict was a contract killer out to get a simple Lance Corporal? That doesn't sound very Jason Bourne to me."

Dick met his eyes. "He got the job done, didn't he?" He paused for a moment, and silence reigned over the conference room as everyone mulled over the words. "He had a gun, what looked like a Beretta 87 or something similar, but he didn't use it at all. For all the bleeding that occurred when I looked at the scene the Marine had to have been stabbed a little before the argument, just due to blood loss. The man was perfectly capable of stabbing him with the knife while I ducked for cover, and then hightailing it out of there. He got his target, and got out. Seems efficient and ruthless to me. I bet you wouldn't even find any prints. Besides, the knife was unique enough to be a calling card of sorts. It doesn't seem like something a soldier would use. I could be wrong, but I'm probably not. Don't just believe what I'm telling you—double check for yourself."

Tony stared at him for a second. Holy shit. Not only was the kid clearly a deductive genius, he also had practically spelled out rule three. Did he borrow Gibbs' rulebook when they weren't looking? "Well ok, Sherlock, let's leave that for the time being. What about Carlos Fernandez—the man who stayed?"

Dick interlaced his fingers and continued. "The one who stayed behind and argued with the Marine was obviously Latino. I'd make him as a solider for hire, with obvious military training." He unlaced his fingers and they started fluttering on the worn table top.

Tony pried his eyes away the distracting digits. "Oh, and how did you deduce that?"

The olive fingers danced a little dance across the table in an unknown beat. "All of his bullets were incredibly well placed. Officer Rohrbach was lucky to avoid them as long as she did. When he did hit her, the grouping was tight and close to a nerve. He stayed to fight though, and that's the mark of a soldier, not someone who flits in and out of the battlefield. He also reacted very quickly when he realized I was gunning for him." His fingers froze, and then resumed drumming.

Gibbs took the figurative baton from Tony and continued. "Tell us about Lance Corporal Sam Nicholas, the Marine. You knew he was Marine from the start?"

Dick looked at him, and as he always did when he was looking at Gibbs, there was a flicker of recognition and respect that seemed to go far deeper than someone who had just met another person a little under an hour ago. "Yes. From the hair, build, and tattoo, I knew he was a marine as soon as I saw him." Tony briefly wondered if Dick could tell Gibbs was a marine just by looking at him.

"You said he looked impaired?"

The fluttered fingertips sped up briefly, then slipped back into a stately adagio. "He couldn't support his own weight, and while he was fighting the two, there wasn't any real strength behind what he was doing. Could have been drugs, intoxication…either way, it was pretty clear he was out of it. I tried to get to him in time, but it was too late."

The room lapsed back into silence, and it seemed everyone was lost in their own thoughts. Finally Tony breached the void, and stood up. "Well, thank you Officer Grayson. You've really helped us fill in some of the gaps." He led Dick to the door, and shook his hand.

"It was no problem, really. I'm glad I could help." He turned for the door when Gibbs spoke up one last time.

"Who's Nightwing?"

Dick turned, appraising him with sapphire eyes. He looked…guarded. Slowly he answered in measured tones. "He's the local vigilante. He busts a lot of local drug rings and street crime, sometimes stuff a little more serious. Runs around in full costume. He's actually pretty cool, and he's done a lot for the community and for the police. Not everyone sees it that way though." Gibbs nodded his acknowledgement, and Dick left, closing the door behind him.

"Oh my god." Tony looked at the rest of the group. "You think we're dealing with another kid Justice League all over again?" He couldn't believe it. He hoped that was what this was—their past involvement with the group of young talented superheroes had turned into one of their most exciting missions ever. The entire experience was surreal, and firmly implanted into his memory.

"I don't think so. The lieutenant and Grayson only mentioned one superhero in the city," Ziva replied. Nonetheless, she looked excited too. Tony couldn't blame her—she had fought alongside the heroes (even if they were young) and held her own relatively well. He knew that had been a proud moment for Ziva, and had helped her when she was starting to doubt her abilities.

"What's it been, seven years? I wonder what ever happened to them? Did any of you ever keep up with them," McGee wondered aloud. Tony could see who McGee was really thinking of. There had been a number of talented teens in the group, and all resonated with the NCIS team who had worked with them. There had been Superboy, the dark haired relative of Superman with impressive strength and the even more impressive temper. Kid Flash, the talkative teen with super speed, had flummoxed and annoyed all with his nonstop chatter and constant whining. This had annoyed Artemis, who was the expert ranger clad in green leather whose snark and sarcasm was directed mainly at Kid Flash. M'gann was the most outlandish of the group, and had certainly given the NCIS team a shock when they discovered she was green and possessed the powers of telepathy and telekinesis, but she quickly proved harmless when they learned of her bubbly attitude and eager to please nature. Aqualad was a little less ostentatious than M'gann, but his gills and powers of hydrokinesis were unusual to say the least. His steady voice and even temperament were evidence of the reasons he led the young superhero group.

The teen Tony knew McGee was thinking of was the true leader of the group, however. Robin may have been the youngest and the smallest, but it was obvious from the way the rest of the group deferred to him that he was the natural leader of the teens, and would take his place when he was old enough to shoulder the responsibility. He had quickly made an impression on the NCIS team with his sharp wit, quick thinking, and catlike reflexes. It also didn't hurt that he was the most relatable of the group. Artemis may have been human too, but Robin's easy going personality and obvious likeability made the NCIS naturally gravitate toward him.

"I don't know," Tony answered, half answering and half reliving the memories of that fateful case. "It's hard to get news updates on the Justice League, let alone their secret teenage undercover doppelgangers."

"I kept in touch with Robin for a while," Gibbs stated quietly. The rest of the team turned to look at him in shock.

McGee became alight with a sort of frenzied interest. "Seriously? Gibbs, what did he say? How did you stay in contact? Did he tell you anything about the team's missions or anything they'd—"

"McGee." Gibb's gave him a hard stare, and it said everything he needed to say.

"Sorry boss." McGee sat back in his seat, and Tony felt a little sad as he watched him. He couldn't blame McGee, honestly. There were some days early on when he was desperate for some kind—any kind—of evidence that the superhero team actually existed and wasn't just a figment of the group's collective imagination.

Clearly Tony wasn't the only one to take pity on McGee, because when Gibbs spoke again, it was to answer Tim's question. The team paid rapt attention. "He never said anything. It was just a gift every Christmas for the first five years. One year it was bourbon, another it was a picture of the team. But I haven't got anything for the past two years."

The team fell silent again, the sadness tangible in the air. For their team, radio silence had never been a good sign. For Ziva, it had meantbeing held captive as a hostage in a hostile camp for months. It was hard for them to think of anything bad happening to the small boy, or the rest of the team. Tony knew that for Gibbs…it was like losing Kelly all over again.

Tony turned back to the team and tried to distract them with a new topic. "Ok. It wasn't just me who didn't believe any of Grayson's hype, right?"

Ziva pushed herself off the wall and looked clearly at Tony. "He has remarkable skill for a young police officer, especially in a place as derelict as this. He certainly lives up to his reputation."

"I didn't like him," muttered McGee. Everyone's heads turned to look at him, and he looked up, as if the words had come out of their own volition. He remained the course. "What? He's too good. He notices everything, he knows computers, he's a great shot…someone can't be skilled at everything like that."

"Wow McEnvy, is that a little green monster I see? Let me tell ya, green is not a good color on you. Just because the kid knows how to shoot and speak technobabble doesn't mean he's bad news. I personally think he got lucky. He's not skilled at everything, he just got a lucky shot in. As for all the Sherlock Holmes mumbo jumbo, it was mostly guesswork. Sure, he was observant, but doesn't mean we're dealing with an assassin and a rogue soldier. I think he was just pulling our legs."

Gibbs interceded. "I think he's a kid who gave us what we needed. McGee…"

"Get a sketch of assassin man and put out a BOLO, and check facial recognition software for all public cameras in the city for any of the three men."

"DiNozzo…"

"Call the families of Fernandez and Nicholas."

"Ziva…"

"I do not know what there is left to do Gibbs."

"Get me all you can on Nightwing."


TBC

A/N- I love it when you read, review, favorite and follow, so float me your questions, comments, concerns, general wonderments, what you liked/disliked, and ideas, etc... They're like fuel for my rocketship of inspiration :)