It had been exactly five years since Bard had left to hunt down Gabriel. Nightwing looked at the ceiling in his small apartment. He had seen glimpses of her when she returned to help. Occasionally it felt like she was near. Watching his back. The last few months especially. When everything else seemed to go to shit. His marriage. The investments he made. He sighed and rolled over.

"Dick!" There was a knock on his door from his roommate.

"Yeah?" She snorted.

"Get your lazy butt up. You've got a letter. Fancy too." He pushed himself off his bed with a groan and stretched the kinks in his back out. He walked out into the main living space, his roommate was sitting at their kitchen table sipping coffee and working on her computer. She indicated the lone envelope on the table. Nightwing picked it up, noting it was like the ones Bruce got inviting him to fancy parties. Glancing at the front it was addressed to him. Everything written in flowing letters. Curious, he broke the seal and opened it. There were two things in it. One was an invitation that matched the envelope. The other was a piece of notebook paper that had been ripped out and hastily stuck with it.

I need a favor. I need you to stand in for me and accept the award for one of my books. I am currently in hiding and can't really go out and accept the award in person. I'll know when you RSVP. Please wear something nice.

Bard

Nightwing could only stare at the note. He hadn't heard much from Bard accept another hand written note congratulating him on his engagement to Starfire. Pulling out the invitation he realized it was a black tie masquerade event. There was to be a fund raiser for a child's group as well as honoring the rising author and co-author with an award. And it was tomorrow night. Of course.

After calling the number he confirmed his ticket had already been paid for and everything was ready. The woman at the other end made her distaste for tardiness known in her snobbish attitude. Dick had to bite his tongue suddenly remembering why he had never liked going to such events. The only change in the woman's demeanor was when he gave her his seat number. She was surprised and from that point on was polite and helpful. When he hung up his roommate looked up from her computer.

"Since when do you have a fancy party plans?"

"I don't, it's a favor for a friend." The words tasted bitter in his mouth. A friend who didn't seem to want to have anything to do with him anymore. He thought he heard a gasp of pain. He turned to see his roommate still working. Running a hand through his hair he went back to his room and checked on the condition of his one suit. It had been a while since he had last worn it. Trying it on he realized it still fit nicely. Now all he needed was a mask. Maybe Bruce would loan him one. He put that thought out of his mind.

I don't suppose you have a mask for me? He thought at Jessie. She hadn't responded that way in years. But there was a sudden flare of power behind him. Turning just in time to see a purple portal the size of a dinner plate open over his bed. A small black object tumbled out and onto his bed. Then the portal closed. He shook his head as he went to pick up the simple mask. It would cover about half of his face. You wouldn't happen to be ignoring me? He thought at her. There was no response.

"I didn't think so." he said with a sigh. Then he noticed another note clipped to the mask. Unfolding the scrap of paper he read the two words.

Thank you!

"No problem." he flopped down on the bed again. He turned the mask over in his hands, staring at the eye holes. "What are you up to?" experience taught him that the mask wouldn't answer, and neither would Jessie; not until she wanted to. Groaning he set the mask on his bedside table and turned over to hide his face in the pillow.

The place was packed. Nightwing looked around the hotel ballroom. Everywhere one looked there were sparkling jewels, and expensive clothes. When he had arrived ten minutes earlier and given his invitation the woman working the booth, she eyed him like shark eyes its meal. Briskly she called an assistant over to man the booth in her absence then lead Nightwing to a table near the front. Then she proceeded to tell him if he needed anything he need only ask her. After she left a waiter came by with a tray of glasses of some kind of expensive alcohol. He took one and sipped it until someone familiar plopped down in the chair beside him. The woman was in her late twenties, very tall; almost willowy. Her black dress was form fitting down to her knees, but cut off at the shoulders with a collar going up most of her slender neck. Across the front of the dress was a dragon stitched in almost luminescent silver thread.

Amy Lawson, Jessie's publisher, editor, and manager. She smiled professionally at him from under her long black hair. She set an envelope down in front of him then extended a hand to him.

"Mr. Grayson, it's a pleasure to see you again." He took her hand and shook it gently. Jessie had introduced them a few years ad he had to admit the woman did a fantastic job of reigning in Jessie when it came to her stories. He also suspected she was the driving force behind Jessie to get work done.

"It's been a while, I take it Jessie's books are a success?" She bobbed her head up and down excitedly.

"Yes, this book you two did together seems to be the most popular yet." Nightwing blinked. He was sure he had miss heard her.

"Together?" She bobbed her head again and pushed the envelope to him.

"Yes, I'm sorry it took so long to get your pay check. It's been hard to get a hold of Jessie while she vacationing in the mountains. And she's so often in her own world she forgets to come back to the real one." Didn't he know it, but to be fair they didn't share their head space with about fifty other people.

"Wait, I didn't do anything. How do I have a paycheck?" Amy blinked surprised.

"Jessie left instructions when she did finally turn in the manuscript. She said you two worked on it together a long time ago and that it wouldn't have been finished without your input." She turned and grabbed her purses. "Speaking of which," She pulled out a book and gave it to him. He took it and nearly laughed out loud. "This is your copy of the book." The book was the very first one he had gone over with Jessie. So many hours they had debated different points, plots, and dialogue. So much bad grammar.

"Thank you, Amy. You wouldn't happen to know when Jessie is getting back from her vacation would you?" The woman shook her head no.

"I was hoping you would know. We were supposed to have a meeting on her next book that's in the works, but I can't get a hold of her." She shrugged. "Guess cell service is bad where she is." Nightwing nodded his agreement. Though he very much doubted Jessie was in the mountains or that cell service was the reason Amy couldn't get a hold of her.

"One more question."

"Shoot."

"I don't have to give a speech do I?" Amy snorted.

"These people here are writers, not speakers. Your safe. Just go up there, look pretty, and smile. Excuse me." Now it was his turn to snort as Amy got up to go speak with someone else she saw walking away. He glanced at the plain envelope Amy had left. It felt like a dare. Open it now or later? He sighed and pulled to him. He cracked the seal and pulled a check out. He blinked once, twice, three times. There were five zeros after the six; eight if he including the two after the decimal point. Hesitantly he took a sip of his drink to calm himself. It didn't help.