Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice, but I do own Andie Kyle.

Warning: This chapter alludes to sexual themes.

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I flung myself to the ground.

Klarion's Familiar pounced overhead. Dust marred my vision as the giant cat landed inches from my face. I cursed, scrambling out of the way. Too slow, I'm too slow. It roared, sounding almost human. Before my eyes its face morphed into a copy of my own. But it had fangs. And cat ears. And cat eyes. Its claws came down. I shut my eyes. I screamed. The claw landed.

I bolted upright, drenched in a cold sweat. The only light came from a gap beneath my door. I sagged against my pillows, and sighed. After three days of trying and failing to find Klarion, my nightmares had grown worse. I was running out of time; I could feel it.

A knock sounded at my door. I dragged myself out of bed, and yanked it open with a frown.

Robin stood there – in full costume – groomed to the letter. As if 1am was only a number. He gave me a once over, eyes widening. "Hey."

My frown deepened.

He held up his hands. "I know it's late. But I've got news."

"Good or bad?" I mumbled, not even bothering with a 'hello'.

"…Both," he said, eyes flickering over my frame. "The good news: I found Klarion."

I blinked, the idea of sleep was suddenly very far away. "What? How?"

"I finally managed to hack into Batman's database." He fiddled with his wrist computer, bringing up a hologram document with the name 'Klarion'. I leant forward, skipping past the information about abilities and past offenses. At the very bottom, in block lettering, were the words:

Last Seen: Salt Lake City.

I ran a hand through my black locks. "… I never thought we'd find him."

"Have a little faith." Robin puffed out his chest. "I said I could do it, didn't I?"

I shrugged. He'd also said he'd watch 'The Notebook' with me, but that's yet to happen. "Thanks," I said.

He nodded and turned to leave.

"Wait." I said, taking a step into the brightly lit hallway. "You said you had bad news. What was it?"

"Oh yeah." He glanced back, his gaze falling to my night gown. "Looks like you forgot to wear…" he gestures to my nightgown, and clears his throat "… something under."

I froze. "You can… see…"

He nods, looking away, but his eyes always find their way back. "It's transparent."

"…" I whirl around, and rush into my room. A smile plays on his lips as I slam the door. Breathing deeply, I cool my burning cheeks. Each breath sounds suspiciously like a swear word.

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I sunk deeper into my seat and pulled the rim of my cap low, covering my cat eyes. Robin nudged me. I ignored him, turning away to stare out of the limo window. I sighed as we sped past a billboard that read 'Leaving Gotham'. After twenty minutes, we still weren't anywhere near Salt Lake City. Should have jumped out the window while I had the chance.

Robin nudged me again.

I turned towards him, my jeans squeaking against the leather seat. He waited until I made eye contact, and then shrugged, as if to say 'don't blame me. This isn't my fault.' I glanced towards the front seats, where Bruce was studying some documents. Beside him, Alfred turned the wheel, pressing lightly on the gas pedal; I'd bet my right leg, he's never received a speeding ticket.

I turned back to Robin with a withering look. 'I wanted to take a cab.' I mouthed.

He shook his head and shoved his hands into the pockets his green hoody. His black pants seemed to melt into the car seat as he leaned back. "I didn't tell them to tag along," he muttered.

Bruce set his documents down on the dashboard. I instantly tensed, angling away. I pulled my black cap lower; my cat ears bent beneath the material of the hat. "Dick," Bruce said, "what business do you have in Salt Lake City?"

Robin shrugged. "Nothing really."

"That's not an answer."

Robin shifted in his seat, turning so his back was to me. His shoulders were tense. "I don't see why it matters," he muttered.

Bruce's jaw twitched – just slightly.

Robin sat up straighter. "Look, I only asked for the limo. Ok? Not a chaperone."

"I'm meeting clients." Bruce said simply.

"Who just happen to be in Salt Lake City?"

"Yes." Bruce replied.

And… queue the awkward silence. Bruce's jaw twitched twice. Robin remained tense, and the tips of his ears turned red, like an embarrassed child who'd been scolded in front of their friends.

Bruce rolled down the window, and glanced out. "Dick," he said, slowly. "What business do you and Andie have in Salt Lake City?"

This time Robin kept quiet. The tension in the car grew, and I knew that If I wasn't around, Robin would be getting an ear-full. I glanced sideways, willing him to say something. Anything.

He didn't.

Bruce sat up straight, and turned in his seat. His blank look of disinterest was gone. Well, not quite gone; altered. With just a slope of his eyebrows, his face seemed… demonic.

"We're on a date!" I blurted.

They both turned to stare, and the tension evaporated. I ducked my head low when Bruce scrutinised me. Robin simply nodded, as though this was all a part of his elaborate scheme. The Ass.

Bruce turned back around to study his documents. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Explain," he said, causing me to jump, "why you're taking a five hour car journey just for a date."

I opened my mouth, and then closed it. I'm screwed; I shot myself in the foot. "I… We…"

"It's a special date," Robin cut in. He looked away, avoiding eye contact with everyone in the limo. "We, uh…" he ran a hand through his hair. "We rented a hotel room."

My mouth dropped open, but I quickly snapped it shut. What the hell kind of lie is that? My cheeks burnt red, and I had to swallow twice before I could even look at Bruce.

He watched me from the rear-view mirror. "And why would you need a hotel room?"

I looked at Robin. He looked at me. I was tempted to tell the truth; to say that Robin and I are actually going to make a deal with a high priority criminal. The alternative was just too humiliating.

Robin shook his head, just slightly, as if he could hear my thoughts. He gestured to the cat eyes hidden in the shadow of my cap. And I nodded. Because I understood.

Bruce can't find out the truth—he'll stop me. I don't have time for obstacles.

I crossed my arms, fully committing to the part of 'embarrassed girlfriend' as Robin sold the lie. Sinking low in my seat, I focused on the patterning of my red t-shirt.

"Bruce," Robin said, his voice low, desperate.

I looked up and hid a smile; the guy could act. Robin's eyes shifted around the car, never settling for more than a second. "It's a… you know…" he squirmed in his seat.

I knocked my foot against his ankle. 'Don't overdo it', I mouthed.

He stopped squirming, and I saw a hint of a smile before he got back into character. "… special date."

Bruce said nothing.

I could see Robin fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "We'll need privacy," he added.

Still, Bruce said nothing.

Robin turned to me with a pained expression. I saw the exact moment when he realised he'd have to spell it out; a flush of red began to creep up his neck. I looked away, focusing intently on the limo windows. My hands grasped around the leather seat as I shrunk in on myself. It's your lie, I say it.

I waited in silence and watched his reflection from the window. Just as Robin was about to speak, Bruce cut in. "You'll miss patrol. Be prepared for a taxing training session on your return."

I waited:

Cautiously.

Optimistically.

And Bruce said nothing more.

Made a few corrections with the tenses. Enjoy. Next chapter coming on Sunday.