AN: This is based on the story "The Cat", from Batman vol 1 #1 (Spring 1940).

Flashback Chapter 8 What's New, Pussy Cat?

Dick mentally reviewed the case so far. Mrs Travers, an old rich widow, had decided on a yacht party, flashing around a half-million dollar emerald necklace. For some insanely stupid reason, she had been so pleased with the idea of displaying her pricey bauble that she'd gossiped about it to numerous journalists, and got it reported in every paper in Gotham- sometimes on the front page. Even in cities with a low crime rate, that would be tempting fate. In Gotham, it was more like waving a red, bejewelled cloth at a raging, thieving bull. Bruce had been invited, but had other obligations, and so sent Dick in his place. By running around, chatting with the young stewards and generally acting his age, he had a short-list of people close to Travers and in need of money. Anyone on the ship might be tempted to make some easy money, but a handful looked especially likely. Travers' nephew, Denny, who the stewards described as a heavy borrower and 'a rat', despite escorting elderly Miss Pegg with her sprained ankle. Then there was Dr Wallace, Travers' personal physician, also a heavy borrower to cover massive gambling bets. And Travers' own brother Roger had been refused an investment for another stock market scheme after a string of losses. They all had close enough ties to know where the emerald was kept, and financial problems easily eased with five hundred thousand dollars.

He got a break when he saw Denny casually discard a scrunched-up note. Surreptitiously snatching it before it went overboard, he found a note signed 'the Cat' asking him to keep his aunt busy so he (she?) could stop by. Before he could act on it, Travers found her emerald stolen, no doubt by the mysterious Cat.

A ship with Coast Guard, markings pulled up, but instead of aid, it spewed forth modern day pirates, who demanded the necklace, no surprise given the publicity, and other valuables. Travers protested its loss, but only angered the men, and when Dr Wallace defended her, they drew guns. Dick lunged, sending a shot at the doctor into the deck…

And getting flipped into the sea for his troubles.

While it was wonderful that Batman had enough faith in his ability to give him a solo case, even as bodyguard to an emerald, it had gotten complicated alarmingly quickly. Time for billionaire adoptee Dick Grayson to give way to Boy Wonder Robin. He gripped a magnetic handle he'd clamped onto the bottom of the hull and hit a distress signal, calling Batman. He kicked off his black leather shoes, letting them float away (because that's the first thing you do when you fall into the sea fully clothed; it would be suspicious if he still had them later), wriggled out of his suit pants, jacket and dress shirt, managing to cram them into a thin back pack pulled from his belt. His costume, red tunic with green sleeves matching skin-tight pants, was mostly in place. He pulled his cape from the lining of his jacket, the black outer contrasting the yellow inner layer that went with his belt. Sliding on green gloves, boots and mask, he was ready. All in the space of seconds. Training had really paid off.

Slipping to back pack on under his cape, he fired off his grapple, so it embedded in the armed thugs' boat, but didn't retract it. He surfaced for air, and dived again, mentally noting to ask Bruce about getting rebreathers in the belts. Two surfacings later, the boat moved off, towing Robin behind them. He was soon pulled to the surface, and retracted the cord, being pulled to the boat.

He released the grapple, stowing it as he flipped onto the side of the boat. "Now, now, boys, mustn't play with guns," he said lightly, crouching and balancing on fingers and toes. "Someone might get hurt."

The men levelled their guns at him and opened fire. Batman had taught him to look at the barrels of the guns, anticipate the trajectory before the bullet is fired, and to watch the eyes for when the decision to fire is made. And he'd taught Batman a trick or two about bullet evasion.

Still, cartwheeling on the hull of a ship was hard.

Slight thuds, almost inaudible, were followed by cries of pain and the clatter of falling firearms. Relieved, Robin scampered forward, scooped up the dropped guns, and slipped backwards, jettisoning them overboard. "Huh. You don't look so brave now," he taunted.

"Robin." Familiarity let him recognize the fond exasperation beneath the growl, and he grinned.

"Bit tied up now, B." As he said it, Robin spun out a thin rope, ducking and weaving and striking out, dancing between his foes to knock them down and tie them up. "Don't you want to play anymore, boys?" he teased before sending the last one to the land of Nod with a rabbit punch.

"Robin." Batman's patience was wearing a little thin with his fun-loving partner. "Report."

Robin quickly summarised the case, and Batman outlined the plan. They had to return the stolen valuables, hand over the thieves and flush out Denny's accomplice.

They piloted the boats in tandem back to the yacht, Batman going on ahead to return the stolen goods while Robin hauled the men onto the deck. The guests and crew were below deck. Robin slipped into position, awaited the signal, and hit a button, waiting anxiously, hoping the plan would work.

The fire alarm went off. Interestingly enough, first out the door was frail, injured Miss Pegg. Robin slammed into her, knocking her to the floor. Her wig fell off, causing other passengers to bottleneck in surprise, the alarm flicking off.

Robin looked down at her from where he knelt on her stomach. With her black hair exposed and greasepaint half-smudged off, she was really quite pretty. "Uh, woah," he murmured, momentarily smitten.

Batman glided forward, and crouched next to 'Pegg'. Twisting his head, Robin watched Batman unwind the bandage from her ankle and retrieve the stolen jewel. Just as he'd predicted.

"No! Mine!" Denny produced a pistol, and fired wild. Batman lunged, and at the distraction, the woman pulled free, leaving her dress behind. Beneath it, she was wearing a grey velvet jumpsuit with a bullwhip around her waist. She jumped overboard onto the thieves' boat, Robin in pursuit.

"I just thought it would match my eyes," she said, kicking the engine into life. "Don't you think?" She pulled up a hood with cat ears.

"Heard of you, Catwoman," Robin said, lunging.

She twisted out of the way. "And I you. The Bat's little birdie. Cats eat birds, you know?" She swung her legs, pivoting low, and Robin flipped backwards.

"Not this one!" he sang, and they fought- danced- for several minutes (so much more fun than sparring with Batman, this was much faster and three dimensional), until they were only just in sight of the yacht. Then Catwoman slid on her clawed gloves, swept out, and knocked him out of the boat.

Batman, who'd been gaining on them in his boat, fished him out. "Put on your tux," he instructed. "We'll say I retrieved Dick earlier. Catwoman's already gone. Again."

AN2: I'm sorry this is late! Almost twenty-four hours late; sorry. It was a difficult chapter to write, I've been pretty busy lately, etc. I'll try to be better in future.

Now, not to be a nag, but I know you loyal readers tend to be a little...reticent about reviewing. Please don't be bashful! I even love it when you ask me questions about what's going on.

Back the Family Ties next week, where Tim's in trouble, Bruce is out of contact, and the others are hunting assassins!

Katara