Once we're there, I can tell that Tana intends to keep her promise. She doesn't protest when Bruce asks to have her belt, gloves, and boots until she's earned them back, and to stay in her room for the time being. And when Bruce half-jokingly asks her if she's carrying any other weapons or devices we should know about, she rolls her eyes and enters the bathroom, everything that she was wearing coming flying in a wad out from behind the door a minute later and thudding to the floor. "Have a field day, Bruce."

I'm passing by her door a while later when I hear her and Alfred conversing inside.

"—belong to young Master Grayson, but they should fit until we can get you some new clothes."

"Thank you so much, Alfred. And I want you to know that I really am sorry for what I did."

"I realize now that you've already apologized for that, but I'll take the second one anyway. I'll give you some advice about the Wayne household, though—actions speak louder than words. And keeping your word matters most of all. Now, if you haven't anything else to do, I suggest you get started on these books—they're quite marvelous. Have a good night, Miss Drader."

He nearly bumps into me as he's exiting, pausing to say, "I'm delighted that we've taken yet another orphaned fighter-child under our wing, but I hope this doesn't become a habit, Master Grayson. Wayne Tower can only hold so much."

"I'll try to keep it under twenty," I reply, slipping inside the door. The room looks a lot like mine, with a four poster bed tucked in the corner and wide, arching windows. The walls are lined with bookshelves, like the ones back at the Manor. I see Tana staring wordlessly at the old volumes, clad in some old clothes of mine, loose jeans and a baggy sweater. Yet it's amazing how little of her authority has been taken away by her attire. When she hears me enter, she turns, braid swinging like a mace-and-chain, eyes flashing their bright, dangerous silver.

She looks like she's about to instinctively ask me what I was doing there, but forces that back and says instead, "Hi, Grayson."

"Call me Dick, Tana. Everyone does."

"Do they."

"And so—I need to clarify. Just what were you trying to achieve by baking yourself back there?"

"It was something I'd considered doing before—I was faking my death to start over. Only before, I didn't really have a way to start over. If I stayed out there in Gotham, I figured some crime lord or other would find me eventually. But now Maroni thinks I'm dead, and hopefully word will get out that Omen isn't for hire anymore." She crosses her arms. "So, how am I supposed to earn my keep here?"

"Bruce is a billionaire, Tana. I don't think you'll have to worry about paying your dues."

She shrugs and turns back to the bookshelf.

She doesn't look like she's going to say anything else, so I speak up again. "So, did you want to play video games?" When she doesn't answer, I add, "Or we could go spy on Mayor Grange for money, either will do."

Tana shoots me a death glare, but it seems more exasperated than angry, and I feel like I'm making headway. I then teach her the wonders of the gaming system, which she's at first passive about, but finally starts to regard with more interest. We spent the next hour battling dragons, and it's when we hit the boss fight that I realize Tana has dropped all of her tough-girl armor.

"What!? That thing can't kill me with fire. I'm freaking made of fire." Her character starts getting low on health and I'm less focused on what my guy is doing, and more interested in watching Tana's fingers. They're flying over the controls with blinding speed. When her avatar is at critical health, I've barely even registered that I'm dead, as Tana is growling, "Aw, hell no," and gaming like the wind.

There's a muffled roar and the CG dragon boss goes down, Tana leaning back with a look of smug satisfaction. I shake my head and say, "I should take you down to see Jackson and Barbara at some point. They like games too, and I think you'd like them."

"Some of your friends?"

"Yeah." I notice her apprehensive face as she sets down the controller, and realization hits me. "You're not used to having friends."

"Of course I'm not. But it's nice so far."

I'm about to reply when Bruce sticks his head out of one of the Batcave entrances. "Dick, come here." He hesitates, seeing Tana with me, suspicion like a frozen crust over his blue eyes, but then says, "Tana, if you could come too." When we get there, he's looking up at a computer screen, which looks like it's analyzing an air sample and picking out two distinct molecules in the air. He gestures to it. "While I was watching the other night, I noticed a pair of windows that were larger than the others, like they'd been purposely renovated to be grander than the others. In last night's confusion, I managed to sneak in. It was a plush room and stank of cologne, but when I analyzed the air sample I took from it, there were two distinct ones. I synthesized more of each one. Tana, I want you to smell both of them and tell me if either smells familiar."

He holds out two vials, and she returns the one that has a brownish color. "This one. This is the one that Maroni wore." She sets the other one, a kind of icy blue, back onto the desk.

Bruce labels Maroni's and picks up the other one. "I didn't know about that one, but I recognize this one. It's exported to one place in Gotham for the use of a single person. Dick, remember what I've told you about training your senses. Where is this from?"

When he hands the vial to me, and I get a whiff, it's hard for me to place. The stuff wasn't overpowering, but it had almost a chilly snap, like the smell of snow on a cold day, or—

My eyes widen. "Iceberg Lounge."

Tana seems incredulous. "The fancy nightclub run by Oswald Cobblepot?"

"It isn't just a nightclub—it attracts both the high life of Gotham as well as criminals, and has become a place where illegal drugs are bought and sold. I haven't managed to amass enough proof to get the place shut down though, or make it clear that Cobblepot has any knowledge of what's going on. But he's been meeting with Maroni. After what happened tonight, I'm guessing that they're going to have another meeting, but since Maroni's place burnt down, where do you think he'll go?"

"Lounge," I confirm. "But do you think he'll go tonight?"

"No, he'll want to get his men in order first, and get some new accommodations. He'll most likely visit tomorrow night."

"Are we going to bust them in the act?" I'm cracking my knuckles, looking forward to another bout with Maroni—this time with my hands free.

"I am. You're staying here."

My face falls. "What?"

"You heard me. It's difficult to get in and to the meeting place from the outside. Bruce Wayne has easy access to the club, but minors don't. So take a day tomorrow. Why don't you go down and visit with Barbara and Jackson? Take Tana and get them introduced, since you'll probably all be meeting fairly often. I'll tell you how things went when I get back."

Bruce goes off to bed, but I'm nervous for him. He's going into the club as Bruce Wayne, but will have to get information. So either he'll put on his mask once he's inside, or he'll just try to be very careful about how he gets his info. Either way, he has to make sure that no one notices, seeing as he's an influential billionaire and Cobblepot is edging into the lead for mayor. He's about to play the most dangerous game in Gotham—the game of being a socialite.

The next day we have largely to ourselves. I drag Tana out of her room to show her some acrobatics, which she definitely has the muscle and balance for, and in return I convince her to tells me a few things about hacking and wall climbing. Alfred interrupts sometime around noon to hand Tana a stack of girls' clothes and to say, "And you might want to change into those sometime soon, since you'll be going to visit the Gordons in a couple of hours."

"People," she mutters darkly, looking out over the city. "What are they like?"

"The Gordons," I ask, "or people in general?"

"Gordons."

"Mrs. Gordon is really nice. She works at the library. Commissioner Gordon is the, uh, commissioner of the GCPD…" I look at Tana's oh, great, face and protest, "But he's really nice, and it's not as if you've ever been caught, so that shouldn't be a problem."

"I locked his keys inside his car once, so that he wouldn't follow me."

"No one knows that was you, Tana. Anyways, Barbara used to talk a lot, but she's calmed down. She's still kind of witty, and cheerful, so I, uh… don't know if you two'll get along. Jackson is Alfred's son, not really a Gordon, and he's quieter. Pretty geeky, in a cool way, if you know what I mean."

"My exposure to people has been limited, so I don't. But I'll consider it."

After Tana changes, she comes back out to find me walking around the couch on my hands, bored as hell. She watches for a few minutes, maybe trying to judge whether or not she could do it as well, but I'm expecting her to either return to her room or pass on when she says, "Would you like to learn a quicker way to pick a pin-and-tumbler lock, Grayson?" When I look at her in surprise, she shrugs. "Or we could go plan the Mayor's assassination, either will do."

My eyebrows shoot up even farther. "Did you just make a joke?"

"An honest effort," she says. She then chucks a lock at me and asks if I can get her lockpicking tools.

Alfred comes to get us a little while later, and by the time we've reached the Gordons' doorstep, Tana is looking as uncomfortable as she ever does, pulling her coat collar up around her face. Alfred chose aptly, getting her a large black trenchcoat that makes her look slightly like a raven. With long, braided hair.

Before I've even knocked the door flies open and Barbara is standing there, looking at both of us critically. "So, this is Tana." Barb strokes her chin. "Born on a bleak night in December?"

"April."

"Damn, so my intuition skills need some work." Barbara grins, holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Barbara Gordon, and the skinny kid lurking behind the door is Jackson Pennyworth."

"I was coming, Barbara," says Jackson, pushing the door open wider to accommodate them both. Tana shakes his hand as well, and he quickly pulls his coat off the rack, checking the pockets and taking out a ring of keys. "Check. Babs, got your wallet?"

"Are we going somewhere?" I ask, since I never got a copy of the itinerary.

"Babs wants to try out that frozen yogurt place that opened up downtown," says Jackson, edging his way out. "So I hope you like yogurt, because she's not taking no for an answer."

"Right on," confirms Barbara, who's closing the door when Mrs. Gordon's face appears.

"Hello, Tana," she says. "I'm Ann." She then addresses the rest of us. "I want you kids home before dark, understood?"

"Got it, Mom!" Barbara quickly clicks the door shut and races down the staircase. I guess she hasn't really outgrown her jumpiness. Jackson shrugs and follows her down, and Tana looks at me.

"From my understanding of yogurt, freezing it won't make it taste any better."

"It will," I promise. "Come on."

The walk downtown is interesting. Barbara and I make most of the conversation, with Jackson putting in a few words here and there. Tana mainly listens. After a while, I can see Barbara noticing Tana's withdrawal and trying to include her more, shooting off questions.

"Where are you from, Tana?"

"Gotham."

"D'you like guys, Tana?"

"Not particularly."

"Do you like cats?"

"I don't know."

I can see Barbara getting a feel for Tana's personality, and she switches tack. "How did you meet Mr. Wayne?"

Tana only hesitates for a flicker of a moment before admitting, "I was trying to break into his house."

Barbara only laughs. "Did you do it?"

"Halfway," says Tana. "I got in."

"And didn't make it out," Barbara finishes. "It's cool that you got in, though. And now you don't have to steal his stuff—it's practically yours now. How are you liking Wayne Tower?"

"It's big."

"What about the tech?" asks Jackson. "Wayne's got some pretty sick gadgets up there."

"Yeah." I can see that Tana is thinking about her gloves. "It's cool."

At one point, we try to cross the street and are nearly hit by a short man in a Chevy, despite the fact that he has a red light. He blares his horn, yelling at us. "Watch where yer goin', assholes!"

Jackson almost looks scared, which is comical, while Barbara and I uncomfortably try to cross faster. Tana pauses a moment to yell back. "Just 'cause that's as much of us as you can see doesn't mean that's all we are, Shortround!"

"Why you little—" But at that point, Tana's passed by, and the cars behind him are honking, and all he can do is give us the finger as he passes by.

Barbara seems impressed. "You came up with that burn really fast."

"I'm used to dealing with… unpleasant people. Actually, those are all I've ever dealt with." She looks at me. "It was kind of nice to deal with another one."

As we're walking and talking, I can see that Tana is actually enjoying her somewhat novel experience. She's looking at the alleys and homeless people that we pass, and then down at herself, and is reveling in the newfound sensation of belonging. The alleways were no longer her home, the vagrants not her people. She was normal. Walking down a street. With friends.

Once we've gotten our yogurt, Tana says to me, "I think I might even be getting bored soon." But her face is light, lips slightly curved, as happy as I've ever seen her. "But what do you know—food that didn't come out of a bag."

"It seems like you made a lot of money," I return, quietly, while Barbara and Jackson get into an argument over whether or not chocolate was a good accompaniment for orange. "But still didn't eat well?"

"I made more than before, and enough to keep me happy, but they'll only give you so much, and I had to space it out since I didn't know when the next job was coming. I also had to pay off some people to avoid cops, and had to be careful about where I went to avoid cops…and I gave what I didn't need to some of the people who needed it. So no, I didn't eat particularly well." She licks her spoon. "It's a nice experience, though."

At one point, Jackson mentions something about his yogurt being so cold that it burns, and when Barbara leans in close and whispers, "Like your heart," Tana makes a small noise that actually resembles a laugh.

We can see that it's getting dark, and are hurrying to get back when we find the small street that cuts directly to the Gordons' apartment blocked by construction. Barbara frowns. "When did that happen?"

"Apparently earlier today." Jackson checks his watch and then cranes his neck to see around the trucks. "Is there any way we can go around?"

"There's the back alleyway." Barbara looks uncomfortably at us, and we all know why. This is Gotham. Trying a back alleyway at dusk was about as stupid as you could get. But then again, once dark fell, the streets would be just as unsafe. Tana is looking curiously at us, realizing that we're only trying to be safe but clearly not used to it, and says, "I can go first if you guys want."

"It's either that or go back around," says Jackson. "I vote we try the alley."

I'm not too scared of being jumped either, but I don't want to get Barbara and Jackson into any trouble. And the more I defend myself in front of them, the more suspicious it looks. Tana goes first, and I bring up the rear, making my way through the soggy old fliers and discarded trash bags that line the pavement. We're all looking around us for signs of danger, and it's Jackson's lucky airhead cloudgazing that saves my life. "Dick! Above you!"

Above me? Muggers did not come from above, and the same confusion is reflected clearly in the faces of the others. But I'm already moving, and I hear a bullet ricochet off the trashcan behind me. As I flip around, feet squelching in the mud, I see a figure perched on the rooftop, only a silhouette against a blazing sunset sky, aiming and firing another round into the alley.

To be honest, dodging bullets is something I do fairly often. I'm worried about Jackson and Barbara, and maybe Tana. But as I'm yelling at them to run and watching Jackson shooting out of the alley, I see Tana walking backwards, picking a trashcan lid off the ground next to her and hurling it like a discus at the attacker. I can hear the clang as it collides with his forehead, and he collapses into a heap. But I notice movement out of the corner of my eye, and I see a second man, trying to find a target in the alley, since I'm hidden from him, and he settles on Tana. "Tana!" I yell, breaking cover to tackle her out of the way, the bullet making a nick in the wall. Before he can shoot again, Barbara yells "Hey!" and leaps up, grabbing the fire escape above us before swinging upwards and landing almost level with the opposite roof. The shooter pauses to look at her, which is his mistake, as she pulls out the brick she'd taken from the alley wall and chucks it at him. He doesn't make a sound, but the crunch of brick on teeth is clearly audible as he reels and falls.

"Run, Dick!" Barbara yells, landing with a dive roll back into the alley and grabbing my hand to pull me out to the street. Tana follows, covering the rear, and the three of us stumble out onto the sidewalk and don't stop running until we've reached the Gordons', which Jackson reaches first. "Guys, are you—"

"Fine," I say, panting. "We're fine." I look up at the two girls, who are surveying each other with mild curiosity. "Thanks, you two."

I don't think that either of them hears me over the volume of their stares. Tana speaks up first. "Nice throw, Gordon."

"Not too bad yourself, Drader." Barbara's curiosity gets the better of her, and she asks, "Where did you learn to do that?"

"The streets. You?"

"Gymnastics class."

Tana shrugs. "So I guess you can learn something." I feel like there's going to be some kind of explosion as they shake hands, but it's a normal handshake and we're back inside the apartment in a minute. Barbara tells her mother what's happened, who calls her father, since, well—muggers were normal, but shooters? No.

I lean over to Tana, asking quietly, "Was there someone else slated to kill me in case you couldn't?"

She's frowning. "No. Maroni must be getting outside influence—he would never try an operation like this twice unless there was something huge in it for him. And he's using hired guns—inexpensive, but easier to trace, meaning he's getting desperate." She pauses, and looks concerned and confused before continuing. "Why did you break cover to warn me about the bullet? You could have just shouted."

"Oh." That wasn't a question I was expecting. "I don't know, it was just a reaction. You were in harm's way and I wanted to get you out of it."

"You put yourself in danger."

"So did you," I point out.

"No more than I already was in."

I can see that she's not going to be satisfied with those answers, and so continue. "You're becoming a part of the family, Tana. And if there's one thing worth risking your life for, or dying for, it's family. I hope you'll see what I mean later on."

But she looks like she already understands and hesitates, like she's about to say something, but changes her mind at the last second, just shaking her head. "I have no idea how we're supposed to get you out of—"

There's fierce knocking on the door, which Barbara answers, and Bruce is standing in the doorway, looking almost…nervous. "Tana, Dick, it's time to go."

"Bruce," I say, standing up quickly. "There was a—"

"I know. That's why we need to leave now. We're going to the mansion."

"The mansion? But—the election—"

"Will happen without me. Come on."

"Nice to meet you," says Barbara gloomily as the door closes behind us.

The minute we're in the car, Tana leans forward to address Bruce from the back seat. "So, it was Cobblepot?"

"Yes. He's the one who gave Maroni the idea to kill Dick in the first place. Maroni wanted to back out, but Cobblepot convinced him to try again, saying that Maroni will have full protection once Cobblepot is mayor. If any of Maroni's men see you in the city, they're to shoot you immediately."

Great, now I can't even go into the city. At least, not as Dick Grayson. I speak up. "So, now I just have to wait until dark to go—"

"No. He also put out a kill order on Robin."

I freeze. That couldn't be a coincidence… could it? "Do you think he knows?"

"I'm not sure what he knows, but what I know is that you can't leave the house until the election's over—that's when the kill order lets up. He just wants to keep us tied up until the election's over, I think. He thinks he'll be able to scrape a victory as long as Batman is out of his way."

"Wait, it's just me that'll be out of the way, Bruce. You can still—"

"No, I can't." We're finally exiting the suburbs, and Bruce floors it as he hits the open road. "He hinted that he had another assassin—one that might even be able to reach you inside the mansion. I'm going to spend a while upgrading security, but then I want to be on hand in case something happens."

I start to get angry. "Bruce, that's exactly what he wants."

"Well what do you want me to do? Leave and hope you're still alive when I come back?"

"I've got Alfred, and Tana."

"Tana," he mutters darkly as we enter the gates of the Wayne estate. "No offense to Tana, but last I checked, she was the first person to break in and try to murder you. Having her around doesn't exactly put me at ease."

I look back at Tana, but she only shrugs. "Can't argue with that."

I turn back to Bruce. "Can't we just out Cobblepot as being in league with Maroni?"

"With what proof? My illegal recorded conversation that could easily have been fabricated? And where did Bruce Wayne get a self-destructible listening device? We're staying in the mansion. If something does come up, we'll deal with it then." He finally stops the car in the middle of the circular drive and flings open his door. "Get in the house. Do it quickly." He scans the countryside and the lights of the city. "And don't open the door for anyone."