A/N- Let me start off by apologizing PROFUSELY. I am so, so sorry this chapter took a month to put out. Between the difficulty of getting the action scene right and school starting up, plus me starting my new job and having to go through training with that, I have been overwhelmed with things that all needed my immediate attention. And unfortunately, there are only so many hours in the day, and this is one of the things I had to bump (along with free time and a life) in order to get what I needed to get done, done. I'm still trying to get into a pattern here, so that I have more time to update more frequently than monthly. That is really not cool. The chapter is a little shorter than my outline calls for, but I also figured you guys wanted a chapter sooner rather than later, soo…

Guys, I am literally bursting with ideas for the next story. Seriously, it's getting crazy- I'm still working on this story and am completely, 100% dedicated to it, but I am overflowing with ideas for book #2. I haven't even got a rough draft or rough plotline drawn out yet, and already Muse is like "Do this! Ooh, a scene like this would be awesome. Don't forget to add them in." I literally have a booklet full of ideas that may just write the plot themselves. Why is it that the Muse speaks to me so much for the next one and not what I'm writing now? It's irritating. She's an inconsistent, fickle thing. But on the bright side, I'm already looking forward to writing #2.

Also, NCIS IS ON NETFLIX! Do you guys realize how much this makes my life complete?!

Also also, I've been contemplating moving this story over to the Young Justice stories section, and not having it be in the crossover section. I feel it may get more traffic/attention there, and I definitely want this story to be recognized and read (the crossover stories on this site are always hidden in the background—it's hardly fair). The only reason I'm hesitant about doing this is I don't want people who are already following the story to not be able to find it; I wouldn't do that to people. So, dilemma…

Thanks you to all of you lovely people who reviewed- starletzrose, CrystalSapphiremoon, shattered rainbow, PSML, Nomad-117, Lyn, and 2 Guests. You guys make my day!


Chapter 7

Dick had a stomach of steel.

After all, how could he not? Put a child who had been on the high wire practically since he could walk, performing endless flips and spins in and around a big top under circus lights, with a young vigilante who flung himself dauntlessly along the cityscapes, finding himself in impossible situations and tight spots, and the end result would be someone who could probably go at Tasmanian Devil speeds.

He had a feeling right now was one of those times his stomach was being tested.

Gibbs sat in the driver's seat, his hands sliding expertly over the tan leather wheel and his foot obviously leaden as they maneuvered the busy Bludhaven streets. Ziva sat beside him, cool as a cucumber as she moved in sync with the cars wild veers. And somehow Dick had ended up in the back, wedged between Tony and Tim. Murphy would get a kick out of the irony.

Actually, Dick amended, it wasn't that bad. Neither of the men had spoken, but it wasn't an awkward or stiff silence. It was more…pensive. Tony was leafing through the file he had received on the StayGreen Grass Company (nothing Dick couldn't recite to him off the top of his head, but he figured it was typical cop legwork), a tiny furrow settling between his eyebrows as he read. And Tim, who was leaning against the other window, was obviously too busy trying to keep his dinner down, judging by the hand curled protectively around his stomach and the suspicious lack of color in his face. Despite his previous surly behavior, Dick couldn't help but feel bad for him. Not everyone had the stomach to go the speed of light.

A battered, half lit sign announced their entrance into the Bludhaven Industrial district, and not more than two minutes later they pulled around the back of a large, unassuming building. McGee was out of the car in an instant, and the rest soon clambered out behind him, joining together on one side of the vehicle. Around them, the black night was interspersed with a million and one city lights trying their best to make the grim city shine.

Tony's face, half lit in a yellow glow under the street lights, looked on quizzically at Dick. "You are surprisingly upright for someone that just experienced their very first Gibbs ride along."

Dick had to laugh at that one. "I can thank Rohrbach for that. Seriously, the woman belongs in a Fast and Furious movie, the way she drives." Very true, but she doesn't have anything on Bruce. Compared to him, Gibbs is tame.

A hand appeared outstretched in front of Tony, and he turned to see a smug Ziva perched at his side. "I believe you owe me something Tony." Grudgingly Tony pulled out a ten dollar bill and slapped it into Ziva's waiting hand. "Thank you very much." She smiled coyly as she tucked the money into her pocket.

Dick couldn't believe it. "You guys bet on me? Seriously?" Tony didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed.

He shrugged. "Yeah, sorry. I had to go with the odds on this one. I mean, first time McGee was out with him, we had to totally redo the upholstery. How was I supposed to know you had a cast-iron stomach?" Tim shot him a look of betrayal from his hunched position by the car.

"I did," Ziva stated confidently. Tony cast her a withering look. "What? I had complete confidence in him." She sent a playful wink Dick's way, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'll get you next time, just wait and see," Tony taunted Ziva. His next words were said in a low voice so only Dick could hear. "She'll rue the day she bets against a DiNozzo." Dick rolled his eyes and gave the older man a light shove.

The group sobered when Gibbs approached. McGee was also regaining his composure alongside the car, and as soon as his head raised up from between his knees, he expertly avoided looking at the area where Dick was standing. Dick resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Gibbs wasted no time on pleasantries. "Alright, let's be smart about this. We don't know how many people are in there, or their locations. Could be empty, or we could be dealing with a nest of criminal activity. Anything worth mentioning from the file DiNozzo?"

"Nope. Clean bill of health before the business went under. It's been empty ever since. Are we sure this is the place boss?"

"Positive," Dick said. When four quizzical faces stared back at him he rolled his eyes. Always with the skepticism. "Come on, it's obvious. The blacked out windows are a recent addition—no self respecting business would have those, so they must be an attempt to keep people from finding out what's really going here. There are no cars parked here, which might indicate it's empty, but the lot across the street is oddly full, despite it being two in the morning. Also, all the video cameras around the area" he gestured to the limp mechanical devices having from the light poles "have been taken out. Again, not something a respectable business would actually want. Therefore, one plus one plus one equals secret drug manufacturing facility." Too sassy? Maybe. Worth it? Absolutely.

Tony shook his head in disbelief. "Ok, Sherlock, if you keep this up, we're going to have to get you your very own deerstalker hat. But seriously, where do you pull this stuff from?"

Dick shrugged, but he couldn't avoid the shit-eating grin that spread across his face as he pointed to himself. "Cop," he said simply. The look on Tony's face was priceless.

Ziva interceded as Tony opened his mouth again. "Ok, so we know this is the correct location. How do we proceed?"

Gibbs turned his attention to the building in front of them, and started gesturing at opposite ends of the structure. "There's an entrance on either side of the building that both feed directly into the main operating floor. Grayson, McGee, Ziva, I want you on the right. Me and DiNozzo have the left. I want this efficient. In and out." He gave a curt nod, and the two groups split toward their respective entrances.

Dick could feel his pulse starting to climb as he trailed behind the two federal agents. It wasn't because he was nervous—no, Dick was both born and trained for moments like this, where adrenaline only served to heighten his awareness and fine tune his senses. The world seemed to slow down and the details became dazzlingly clear, and for a split second he knew what Wally felt like. It was a skill he'd always excelled at—maybe not to Bruce's level, but as near as anyone could get. And he was ready to do it tonight. The performer in him was ready to show what he could really do, to perform.

But that was the problem wasn't it? As they rounded the corner, concrete walls rising high above them, McGee and Ziva both pulled out their guns. The young hero watched as the two settled the unforgiving metal into their palms and became one with their cold weapons. McGee's fingers were slow in turning off the safety and his stance wasn't one of complete confidence, but maybe Dick was comparing him to Ziva, who was handling her weapon as if it were an extension of her own arm.

Dick couldn't show what he could really do. Not here anyway, not in front of them. If he was back with his team, flying on the bioship to some covert operation, he'd have his belt inventoried and fully stocked on batarangs, tasers, small explosives, escrima sticks, and gas pellets, to name a few. As it was, he actually had all of those things on him (Never leave home without it—first thing Batman taught me). But he couldn't use any of them, not if he wanted to keep his identity a secret. Even using his abilities and skills as a master acrobat and martial artist were out of the question unless he wanted to call into suspicion the skills of a brand new cop.

As a result, he couldn't help but feel…naked. Like Batman trying to be Batman while he was still Bruce Wayne.

He was a deadly weapon. But was a weapon if it wasn't loaded?

The three approached the blank steel door ahead of them. A round red light on the left revealed a small black box with a deep slot, and instantly Dick wanted to bang his head against the wall. There's only one keycard, and the other group has it. We can't just let Tony and Gibbs go in alone—we need to get in now, to divert attention away from them…

"Dick," Ziva's confused voice sounded softly beside him. "Is there a problem?"

McGee shoved him aside. "I got it," he said snidely. Dick narrowed his eyes, and it took all of his patience and restraint to push back the increasingly tall wall of anger he felt as Tim got to work on separating the different colored wires. Stop Dick! Don't be stupid. Just…breathe. Calm down. He had to remember he wasn't the go-to tech guy on this team. That wasn't his role here. He knew that, and somehow, it still hurt a little to know he wasn't needed.

The light turned green, and the door gave way with an electronic beep. A split second later, they were sprinting through the door as the sound of gunshots echoed inside.

Over the threshold, Batman's deep voice sounded in his mind. Know your surroundings—being aware of the space makes you master of it. In a heartbeat, Dick's training kicked in. The dirty warehouse was far larger than what it looked from the outside, and the middle of it was covered in rows of tables laden with silver scales and tubs of white powder. Heaps of suitcases lay at one end, and at the other the suitcases were in careful rows. A table with a black, nondescript laptop sat further away.

Scattered around the tables all facing the other doorway were 25 rough looking men. Dick quickly took into account their plain but shady clothing and their hardened, determined faces. And the guns they were carrying, which was a small arsenal. Mostly handguns, but two rifles.

At the far end of the warehouse Tony and Gibbs were under heavy fire. Dick couldn't be 100% sure, but it looked like they'd ducked behind an imposing piece of machinery by the door to avoid the hailstorm of bullets coming their way. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ziva raise her gun to shoulder level, and two bullets quickly found their way into the hearts of the men.

The thugs slumped to the ground, and the three of them quickly had the attention of more guns than they could handle. Several had hardened eyes trained on Ziva, and before they could even think about pulling the trigger Dick had taken out two of them with perfect shots between the eyes. Like an extra nail on the cross.

Ziva, ever quick and nimble, dove behind a forklift to her left as the torrential stream of bullets persisted. She had the experience to know that there was no way she could get a shot off right now, not with the fire power these men had behind them. Beside Dick, McGee gulped loudly, and fired off three loud shots of his own with shaking hands. All of them went wide, soaring harmlessly behind their assailants.

But now he had their attention. With a few frenzied shouts, they redirected themselves toward Tim and Dick. Lowered guns rose like flags, all of them with a common goal—a bullet through McGee's brain.

And suddenly, everything was moving as if they were plunged underwater.

It was surreal. For a moment, just a sliver of a breath, Dick was the master of his reality. He could feel his heart in his chest mid beat. He could see the white of McGee's eyes as he took in what he thought would be his last breath.

Dick knew he only had a few moments—seconds—before this burst of clarity faded, and everything crashed back down around him. So it was with no hesitation that he grabbed McGee on his left side, snaking his arm around him. With his right he shot at a table some three feet in front of them. As the bullet clipped the metal leg and the table fell on its' side with a bang, he slid behind it, McGee in tow. Now they had a shield and protection. If only for a moment.

As soon as they found their place in between the legs of the plastic table, the world resumed around them. The wall behind where they'd been standing was riddled with bullets, and Dick's ears were flooded with the sounds of men shouting and the cacophony of explosive projectiles. McGee sat wide-eyed beside him, his chest heaving and his lip bumbling up and down.

"But you…I just…How…" Tim's voice was filled with incredulous awe, and he was looking at him with an expression Dick had only ever seen once before on the man's face. Instantly, Dick was transported back to that night seven years ago, when the young heroes been trapped in that room with only an NCIS team for company. Tim had stared at him with the same open admiration then, and that was when Dick had been under the guise of Robin. To see him looking at him like that…Dick didn't know what to say.

He clasped his hand on Tim's shoulder and stared him directly in the eye. "No big deal Tim. You would have done it for me." Because ultimately, no matter how McGee had treated him or if Dick was currently a 'civilian' or hero, he would always save someone that needed him. It was who he was.

He could see the wheels grinding in McGee's head, and shame and regret washed over his features. It didn't take a genius to figure out what McGee was thinking of. Dick only hoped he would actually get the chance to apologize. Because at this rate, he wasn't sure McGee had the skills to walk out of here.

The table shuddered with explosive thuds in front of them, and McGee let out a soft shout of surprise. "They're still firing at us," he hissed between his teeth. If only he'd been wearing his brown pants tonight.

"Tim." Tim looked at him, eyes wide, and Dick pointed at the table. "The table's made of polyethylene. It should stand up against them for a little longer." Beside, now's the fun part, he thought. It'd been a little while since he'd been in this kind of brawl and he was itching to get out there and move. It was engrained in him, he could feel it under his skin—the need to flip and tumble, to soar through the air, to kick and punch. None of his signature stuff, of course, but enough to kick ass.

At this point Dick knew it was only a matter of time before they switched from firing on their location to approaching it, and he crouched, the grasp on his gun tight. Over the sound of gunfire, he could hear several pairs of boots striking the ground, slow and steady. Cautious. Bring it on.

All it took was a flicker of black out of Dick's peripheral to see the barrel of a rifle staring down at him, and instantly he was flying into motion. Flipping over the table to the opposite side, he grabbed the rifle from the man's arms, and with a smirk, slammed the butt of it into his shocked face. The man crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Quickly another filled in his spot, and Dick found himself in the center of three men coalesced around him, circling him like dogs. As if on cue, they attacked simultaneously. All seemed to more experienced and skillful, coming at him with a variety of street strength and quick reflexes. Good thing he was faster. He blocked every hit and ducked every swing. He weaved in and out of them, throwing well-timed punches and decisive attacks that continued to throw them off balance. They seemed surprised that he, the smallest of the four of them, was holding his own. He couldn't beat them for size, but he certainly could for agility and knowledge.

Almost as if Batman had heard the direction his overconfident thoughts were taking him, the fight took a turn. Dick could still hear fighting and gun shots over the din, and somewhere he thought he heard a grunt that sounded distinctly like Ziva. All it took was that sound, a white hot pain in his side, and the leader, an ugly brute, to take the advantage.

The man pulled a crowbar out of nowhere and raised it above his head as Dick gasped for breath, sinking to his knees.


TBC-

Here is the part where I'll answer (cryptically, illusively, evasively) some questions that have been asked-

Chise Sakamoto- Will Gibbs figure it out first? Or will it take until he meets Nightwing? Well, we all know Gibbs. He is nothing if not a sleuthy detective wrapped in a taco shell of enigma and coffee. I'd say your bet on him figuring it out is good (anyone wanna take that action?). But just to sow some doubt—don't forget, Dick is good. Trained by Batman good. Not to mention the rest of Gibbs team has suspicions. Who knoooowws? Sorry, now I'm just being a jerk. Also, I'm guessing you're talking about Dick=Nightwing when you saw 'figure it out'. Remember the trifecta of hidden identities (hint hint wink wink). What do you see happening?

Guest- What will prevent Dick telling them that he used to be Robin whenever they meet him as Nightwing? Wow, all three identities used in a sentence—gold star for you! I guess that's a good question. What would prevent him? It certainly still wouldn't tie Robin or Nightwing back to Dick, necessarily. I guess the only thing preventing him from spilling the beans is what he's been taught. His heart (which Dick listens to all the time—he's a very heart conscious person) is telling him to connect as Nightwing to the people he connected with as Robin, but his head knows that the more connections are made, the closer they are to finding out the truth. So, it's all up to Dick and what he wants to do. What do you think?

Nomad-117- I am a little confused about McGees attitude. It is obvious that he doesnt like Dick for whatever reason? Why does he also dislike Nightwing? He enjoyed his work with the Young Justice team, so why would he suddenly be so anti-vigilante/hero? Will other members of the Batfamily appear? Like Batgirl aka Barbara Gordon who is his major love interest if I am not mistaken, or is she Oracle by this point? I'm going to try and answer this as best I can for clarity without spoiling later scenes. McGee deals in concrete facts, and quantifiable data. The more familiar, the better. He isn't the type to readily believe in magic. The reason he enjoyed working with Young Justice is because they became more than just magic beings that he was skeptical about from afar—he got to know them as individuals, and they were more than a mask to him. Right now, that's all Nightwing is to him—an anonymous mask who could potentially have powers. Also, McGee is a stickler for the rules, and he hasn't got on board with the fact that vigilantes work outside the law. As far as other members of the Batfamily, my answer is yes, one/some of them shall appear. Will I tell you who? No :) because I'm evil like that.

Also, requests for a NCIS/Nightwing team up have been made, and believe me, I hear you loud and clear. Fret not, young grasshoppers, the time will come. I'm telling you right now, this shiz will happen. All I need is your patience. But for right now, continue to favorite, follow, read, and review! I love the questions and comments, because it tells me what angle everyone is reading from, which is always endlessly interesting. It also makes me reevaluate and ask questions I haven't yet, which is incredibly useful.