Chapter Thirty Nine

Fundraiser

He led them across the room and up the new set of stairs. Upon reaching the second level, an even grander room greeted her. Huge, tall, slim windows seemed to make up the majority of the walls, giving them a gorgeous view of the setting sun outside. Round tables were scattered about the room, the walls flanked with long tables containing a wide range of delicious looking food and drinks.

Morgan was awestruck as she stared around the room, taking in the sheer size of the place.

She chanced a look at Dick and found him looking ahead, almost seeming bored. She wondered if he went to places like this so often that the splendor of the sight had started to wear off. Wondered if he even realized how gorgeous the place looked.

She almost felt bad for him.

"Do you go to these sorts of things often?" She asked to confirm her theory.

"Not if I can help it." He responded as they walked along the room and placed themselves strategically by one of the walls, allowing themselves maximum visual coverage of the place. Once they finally stopped walking, Morgan let go of Dick's arm and took a few safety steps backwards, both disappointed and relieved that he was no longer in her personal space.

"You realize once Rachel sees us, that rumor about us dating is going to be very much confirmed, right?" Morgan suddenly realized.

He nodded slowly. "I figured that might've been a risk."

And yet he still agreed to go along with it. Morgan felt gratitude swell in her. She was pretty sure her mentor didn't particularly like having some stupid rumor about dating her passing around, so helping her out despite this was really nice of him.

"I'm not sure if I've thanked you before, so I'm just gonna do it now," She took a deep breath and faced her mentor properly. "I'm really grateful you're helping me out with this. All of it."

He raised a slow eyebrow. "Uh, okay, who are you and what did you do to Morgan?" He said, quoting her words from earlier, a small smile on his lips, and Morgan almost slapped him on his shoulder if she hadn't known that that would probably be considered inappropriate behavior by the other people in the room.

She settled for scowling at him instead. "You're supposed to be serious, you moron."

"You constantly tell me I'm being too serious and then when I finally joke around, I have to be serious again." He instantly pointed out.

Morgan sighed tiredly, wondering why her mentor had decided to be extra difficult tonight.

She also didn't understand why he seemed so at ease. Morgan was starting to develop cramps in her shoulders and back from their tenseness, and here he was, joking around.

Then she realized that they were in a huge room filled with people that were all about pretences, and that her mentor wasn't known as Nightwing, but as Dick Grayson around here. She remembered the way he'd acted when he'd pretended to be her boyfriend, how absolutely flawlessly he played the role, and wondered if, perhaps, that was what this was.

He was acting out a role for the benefit of the people around him.

"You're acting, aren't you?" She voiced her musings. "Because we're someplace where people aren't used to seeing you all serious."

"Bingo." He grinned, and Morgan noticed that even as he smiled brightly, it didn't reach his eyes, which were flickering around the room, constantly on look-out.

It was so obviously a smile for the benefit of the people around them.

"So what should I do?" She instantly asked, not sure what sort of role she was supposed to play.

"Just.. be yourself." He told her. Pulling a face for a split second, he corrected himself. "Less grumpy and more polite, perhaps."

Morgan suppressed a scowl at the kind-of insult, choosing to nod instead.

A waiter – probably roughly their age, maybe a few years older, with neatly combed, brown hair and a pair of sparkling hazel eyes – balancing a tray in one hand, came up to the two of them.

"Would you like a drink?" He asked, only sparing Dick a quick glance before he focused his attention on Morgan with a smile that showed off his seriously cute dimples.

She returned the smile immediately, determined to be as nice to the waiters as possible. Lord knew they would probably have enough of a hard time dealing with the rest of the guests. Morgan had already seen one lady shout at a waiter for pouring too much wine in her glass.

"Non alcoholic, right?" She found herself asking, remember that she wasn't, technically, old enough to drink yet.

Not that she hadn't tried drinking before. Her and her mom didn't have a problem with enjoying a small glass of wine every once in a while when they were at home. But she figured, as a superhero and thus supposed role-model, she'd do well to not break any laws, even when she wasn't in costume.

"Hmm.." The guy pulled a contemplative face. "I'm pretty sure this is just cranberry juice. We've got a lot of under-age guests tonight, so the host made sure there was something for everyone."

Morgan had recognized quite a few people from school now that she thought about it.

He smiled brightly at her again and Morgan almost felt a blush creep up her neck at all the attention she was suddenly getting from such a good-looking guy. Even if it was just because he was doing his job.

Sure, she was standing by Nightwing, who was, in her opinion – though she could argue that she was slightly biased – slightly more handsome. But it was in a different way. This guy was good looking in a nice, warm way, like his friendly personalitywise manifested in his looks. Dick was more handsome in that traditional, masculine, Greek statue, my-jaw-line-could-kill-a-man kinda way. It was a bit unreachable, in the way the moon was beautiful, but unattainable.

Well, Morgan had always been overly fond of the moon.

Good lord, she was turning into a lovey-dovey poet type.

Before she could start coming up with more cheesy lines, this time about his eyes, she refocused her attention onto the waiter guy.

Who was still, Morgan would admit, every handsome. And currently looking expectantly at her.

She wondered how long she'd been standing there, cooking up poetry about her mentor's jawline.

"I guess I'd love a drink then." She quickly said, still smiling widely, vaguely hoping she didn't have anything stuck in her teeth or something equally embarrassing. Like accidental lipstick on her front teeth. Had she bit her lip yet tonight? She hoped not, she couldn't remember. She knew that Clarissa the Hairdresser had warned her about not biting her lips because she'd most definitely stain her teeth red if she did.

"Great!" He took a glass off of the tray and offered it to her.

Morgan accepted the glass right as the waiter seemed to remember that Dick was there too. "And you, sir?"

"No thank you." He shortly replied, looking, in Morgan's opinion, rather tense.

"Oh," The waiter's face fell for a split second at Dick's kind of cold look, but he brightened instantly. "Well, if either of you fancy anything else, go right ahead and find me. Name's Garrett."

"We will," Morgan responded politely, a small grin on her face. "Thank you, Garrett."

He smiled and nodded pleasantly at her, shot a blank look at Dick, and then walked away, approaching another couple immediately.

Another waiter passed by and Morgan raised an eyebrow when her 'date' quickly snatched a drink from his tray.

"Why'd you say no when you did want a drink?" She questioned, sipping at her cranberry juice.

"I changed my mind." He replied, almost sounding sour.

"He was nice." Morgan went on, finding her eyes following the guy's movements around the room, mainly for a lack of anything better to do.

"Sure, if you enjoy being ogled at like a piece of meat."

Morgan frowned and turned to her mentor. "What are you talking about? He didn't ogle. He was just being friendly!"

Dick scoffed, a small, slightly degrading smile tugging at his lips. "You really do have no clue about these sorts of things, don't you?"

Morgan bristled with annoyance. "There was nothing to not have a clue about. He was just being friendly!" She repeated herself. "Besides, there was no reason for him to flirt. He was just trying to do his job."

Dick frowned in what appeared to be utter confusion. "No reason for him to.. – Morgan, did you actually look at yourself in the mirror once the stylist was finished?"

"Of course I did." She instantly responded, not sure she followed. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Well.." Dick paused and pressed his lips together, redirecting his eyes. "You're beautiful." He shrugged.

Morgan's heart stopped beating. Then it dropped to the bottom of her feet. Then it seemed to kick start, going at twice the speed as before, as if to make up for the several seconds of missed beating.

She sort of blinked blankly at him as if she hadn't really comprehended his words. She congratulated herself on looking quite calm on the outside when, internally, she was having the most massive freak-out she'd ever experienced.

Maybe she just appeared calm because she found herself completely frozen on the spot.

Then she mentally, firmly told herself to pull herself together and create some sort of response so the situation couldn't turn awkward. She didn't want her mentor to regret saying that to her.

She most certainly didn't want him to know that he'd probably given her a heart attack and permanently fried part of her brain.

He was sipping calmly at his own cranberry juice as if calling her beautiful wasn't a big deal at all, his eyes traveling around the room. When several seconds had passed by and she hadn't reacted at all, he frowned slightly and turned his head to look at her, his blue eyes studying her face.

Blinking once more, she shook feeling back into her body and did everything in her power to not fidget awkwardly. "Oh." Was her attempt at an intelligent response.

He sighed and was about to say something else when they were, quite suddenly – seriously Morgan jumped in her spot and almost spilled cranberry juice on the floor – interrupted.

"Morgan!" someone shouted happily.

She gloser her eyes briefly and prayed for strength. Just breathe in and out, Morgan.

She turned around and smiled widely at Rachel. "Hey, Rachel." She greeted, hoping her smile didn't look as forced as she felt it did.

Rachel eyed the two of them with calculating, smirking eyes, her red lips pulled into a gorgeous smile. "I didn't know you were going to be here! Why didn't you tell me?" She pulled the other girl into a brief hug, Dick quickly taking her glass of cranberry juice out of her grasp before she had the chance to spill all over both girls. She met his eyes briefly over Rachel's bare shoulder.

Well.. you're beautiful.

She mental shook herself to focus on her friend as they pulled out of the hug, Rachel keeping a hand on Morgan's shoulder.

"It was a bit of a last minute thing. I didn't even know I was going until a few days ago." She explained.

Rachel redirected her dark eyes onto Morgan's date, smirking triumphantly. "I guess I don't need to ask who you're here with."

Dick smiled pleasantly at Rachel – Morgan could see his shoulders tense – shrugging sheepishly as if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I guess there's no denying that."

He looked so convincing, Morgan almost believed it.

Rachel, still a hand on Morgan's shoulder, turned to her. "And you said you two weren't dating! Honestly, I'm hurt you didn't tell me."

Morgan looked hesitantly at Dick, not entirely sure how she was supposed to answer that, and kind of hoping he'd answer for her.

He gave her a tiny shrug, letting her know that she could answer as she liked. They had agreed that there probably was no way to get out of the annoying and completely false rumor anyway. No reason to delay the inevitable.

"Um.. It wasn't official? – yet. So.."

Rachel rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

She was taking the 'news' rather well, considering how Morgan very distinctly remembered Rachel admitting she was carrying a bit of a torch for the guy.

"Well, I wish the both of you good luck then. A new relationship is always exciting."

"SO," Morgan quickly spoke up before that particular conversation had the chance to develop. "You said your mom was here, right? Won't you introduce us?"

Rachel nodded enthusiastically. "She's awfully busy right now, she should have time in a few hours. I'll be sure to find you!"

Morgan groaned inwardly. A few hours.

She'd have gone crazy by then.

"I'm playing as a sort of host tonight." Rachel explained. "It's tougher than you'd think."

Morgan heard someone else call Rachel's name – a tall, thin elderly woman, stood next to a short, fat man with an impressive mustache – and the other girl grimaced slightly in Morgan's direction.

"And that's my cue. I'll talk to you later."

She swept off, all beautiful and graceful in her flowing, red dress.

Morgan could hear the lady greet Rachel in a shrill voice, her accent noticeably British.

"So now all we can do is wait, I guess." Morgan sighed, accepting her glass back when Dick offered it. She took a large gulp of the juice and pulled a face when she almost choked on it. "When's the thing even going to start?"

Dick checked his wrist watch – an expensive looking thing that Morgan honestly hadn't expected Dick to be the type to wear – and looked at the stage – more of a raised podium to be honest – shrugging. "It should start in a couple of minutes."

"Great. I'll go, uh, 'powder my nose' then." She said. Taking a step away from her mentor, she realized that she didn't actually know where the bathrooms where. She turned towards Dick again. "Uh-"

"Out the door we came in from and then to the left." He immediately told her, earning himself a grateful smile from the girl before she slowly set her drink on a nearby table and walked towards the entrance. She kept at a reasonably slow pace so as to avoid tripping, using this as an opportunity to study the people at the fundraiser.

She noticed that, upon making eye contact with people, their reactions were very varied. Some smiled pleasantly at her while others simply squinted at her as if trying to figure out if she was somebody they knew. Morgan supposed the Gotham elite all knew each other fairly well – at least by sight – so she assumed she was a bit of a mystery as people attempted to figure out exactly where she fit in.

And then there were some people – mainly people from Gotham University who knew who Morgan was – that eyed her sort of unpleasantly as if wondering what the scholar ship student was doing here.

Joke's on them, she thought to herself, I'm here with the hottest guy in school, so, hah!

Eventually, she simply looked straight ahead to avoid meeting anymore gazes. She reached the entrance and slipped to the left, spotting a door with a small plate that read 'Ladies' in neat cursive.

Stepping inside, she found the room bustling with activity. Women and girls alike were standing in line to use the toilet, checking their makeup in the mirror, fixing their hair, or simply gossiping.

Morgan suppressed a small smile. The scene looked like any other from a ladies bathroom at a party and she was glad to know that some things didn't change, no matter what social class it took place in.

Because of the line, Morgan took far longer than she'd expected. Fifteen minutes after entering the bathroom, she finally reemerged, walking at a much faster pace than before.

Reentering the giant room the fundraiser was taking place in, she gulped to herself and felt nervousness and awkwardness creep over her. Everyone had seated themselves around the round tables scattered equally across the room, and, upon looking to spot where she'd left him, Morgan found that Dick wasn't there anymore.

She slowed her walk so she'd have more time to locate him as she walked into the room, cursing herself for going to the bathroom at such a stupid moment.

"Where are you.." She whispered to herself behind gritted teeth.

"Table by the left wall. Roughly in the middle of the room." A voice in her ear immediately answered. Morgan jumping in surprise at the voice, earning a weird look from a man in a top hat passing by her.

She'd asked the question, but she hadn't actually expected anyone to answer.

Holding a finger up to her earpiece under the pretense of fixing her pearl earring, she murmured a response. "Don't do that!"

She heard his low chuckle in her ear and marched on stubbornly when the sound made her spine tingle and her cheeks redden.

Morgan followed his directions, trying to pinpoint his location as she went.

Opting to walk along the wall instead of weaving in between the tables, to avoid bumping into too many people, Morgan found the left wall and followed it. He'd said left, right? She was sure he'd said left.

She was starting to worry that she'd somehow missed him as she was reaching the end of the middle of the room, when a hand suddenly shot out and grabbed hold of her wrist.

Morgan, training immediately kicking in, turned quickly around, prepared to punch whoever was attacking.

She relaxed her stance when she found that the hand around her wrist belonged to her mentor, who was watching her with a raised eyebrow.

How hadn't she noticed him?

Morgan blushed crimson as she shuffled into the seat next to him without a word.

There were four other people by their table. A middle aged, middle-eastern looking couple was sitting next to Morgan. A woman who looked to be in her fifties, wearing a very funny, feathered hat, was sitting next to Dick, looking like she'd shuffled her chair a bit closer towards the boy than what was normal. Morgan smirked slightly at the idea of her mentor uncomfortably attempting to dodge any advances from the woman. Next to her sat an old hawk of a woman with a shock of white hair and a long, crooked nose. She slouched in her seat, her back bent with age, and she squinted at the people around her as if her eyesight was starting to fail her.

"Morgan," Dick addressed her. "This is Mrs. MacDonald and her daughter, Miss MacDonald." He motioned for the two women by his side. Morgan nodded at them, a polite, close mouthed smile on her lips.

"And this is Mister and Mrs. Najjar." Morgan greeted the couple by her side the same way she'd greeted the two women. They both smiled pleasantly back and returned her nod.

"And this is Morgan Jørgensen." He introduced her to the rest of them.

"Jørgensen.. that sounds foreign." The old lady croaked in a voice that made Morgan think she'd smoked one too many cigarettes in her lifetime.

"Uh, yeah." Morgan slowly responded, clutching some of the fabric of her skirt in her hands, smiling slightly at the woman. "My dad's from Denmark."

"Oh, that's lovely!" Miss MacDonald loudly exclaimed. "Mother and I were in Denmark a few years ago, weren't we mother? Lovely place. I was especially fond of the mountain scenery and all the charming animals. Cows and goats everywhere! We were woken every morning by the sound of cowbells ringing as the creatures grazed on the mountain sides. "

Morgan was utterly confused. She'd never actually been to Denmark, but she knew enough about the place to know that there were no mountains. And no abundance of cows or goats either. "I think you might be talking about Switzerland." She attempted to politely correct the woman.

"Oh, but I thought Denmark was a town in Switzerland?" Miss MacDonald wondered after a few seconds of looking utterly confused.

Morgan blinked at her. "No, it's, uh, it's a country. On top of Germany?"

She could tell she was losing the other woman as she proceeded to look at Morgan with a confused look for several seconds.

Dick was fighting to suppress an amused smile and Morgan stomped on his foot underneath the table, digging the heel of her high heels into his shoe. He winced slightly and immediately removed his foot.

"You know.. like the Vikings?" Morgan attempted to help the woman locate the country.

"Ooh!" Miss MacDonald was sporting a look of realization as she snapped her fingers. "Norway!"

Morgan resisted the urge to sigh harshly and roll her eyes, forcing a small smile onto her face instead, admitting defeat. "Exactly."

The other woman chortled as if the conversation amused her very much.

Dick was fighting off the urge to laugh again and, not breaking the pleasant smile on her face, Morgan punched his leg underneath the table.

He quickly grabbed hold of her hand, easily enveloping her much smaller fist in his own large one, keeping her from hitting him again. He left her hand in his, and Morgan didn't think he realized he was stroking her knuckles with his thumb.

She pulled her hand away quickly when it started sweating and tingling from being in his.

Dammit, this had all been so much easier when she hadn't liked her mentor.

Before anyone could strike up conversation again, a middle aged man with the most serious comb-over Morgan had ever seen stepped onto the podium-thing and tapped the microphone twice.

"Is this on?" He asked hesitantly, not realizing that everyone in the room could hear him, because, yes, the thing was very much on.

The fundraiser had begun.

There was a show of some sort, for entertainment, and then a few people gave speeches, explaining briefly about the work the company did and why they should all hurry up and fund it.

Morgan didn't pay any attention. She was poor as dirt for one thing, so even if she'd wanted to, she couldn't actually fund or donate anything.

She was also nervous. Seriously bloody nervous. She was afraid she'd never get to talk to Rachel's mom and the whole thing had been a huge waste of time and money.

Her mentor had paid for her friggin' dress and everything! And, well, true he did have a seriously big amount of money, being the adopted son of a millionaire – billionaire? – so, yeah, he could totally afford a dress, but that didn't mean she wouldn't feel utterly humiliated if nothing came out of the evening.

Two hours or so later, the 'show' part was over and people were getting up and about to mingle and create contacts. At the front of the room stood a bunch of people from the company, ready to answer any question about the company and what to give money to. If anyone was interested in investing in any of the projects they'd been shown, they could go there and get the deal done.

"So," Dick offered his arm as they left their table, an amused grin on his face. "You're Norwegian now?"

Morgan groaned and rolled her eyes. "I swear, if I had a dollar for every time I've had a variation of that conversation, I wouldn't have had to rely on you to by this dress."

Dick chuckled once at this.

Morgan looked up at the podium, her mind going to the show they'd just seen. "You going to give anything?" She asked her mentor, the two of them resuming their spot by the window. It was dark outside now, the city lights illuminating the sky in an orange tint.

He shook his head. "Not to this company, no."

She looked at him quizzically, cocking her head to one side. "Why not?"

"Well, it's a branch of LexCorp for one thing." He explained as he took a large gulp from his drink. Morgan thought it looked like a Sprite or something.

She raised her eyebrows at this. "Lex Luthor owns the company?"

He nodded. "Yep."

"Well, that's gotta mean bad news." She mumbled, feeling like the entire situation had suddenly gotten unbearably complicated. "I'm going to get something to drink."

She weaved in and out of the crowd easily, approaching the bar that had been set up for the occasion. "A coke, please."

While she waited for the 'bartender' to fix this incredibly complicated drink for her, she looked around the room, trying to scope out Rachel and her mom.

She didn't have to. The moment she'd gotten her coke and had stepped away from the bar, the two women approached her all on their own.

"Morgan!" Called Rachel.

Morgan whirled around, spotting her friend with a woman in tow.

The first thing Morgan noticed about Fathiya was that she was beautiful, Tall and elegant with smooth, dark skin and sharp cheekbones. Her eyes were intelligent and black, and they were studying her with vague recognition.

She looked a lot like her daughter, only darker, seeing as Rachel's father was white.

Morgan smiled happily at her friend and put away her drink, not caring about it anymore.

"Hey, you must be Rachel's mom." She greeted. "I'm Morgan."

The woman looked quite shaken for a moment before a soft smile grazed her lips, her big, dark eyes misting over. "Oh my dear, it's been so long."

Okay, uh, so not pretending, apparently.

Morgan looked into her face and was instantly reminded of her younger years. She remembered Doctor Robbins as a warm-hearted and kind woman, who always took great interested in hearing Morgan's thoughts and ideas.

Morgan was having a hard time piecing this together with the woman who had used two infants as guinea pigs.

"Doctor Robbins." Morgan responded, smile falling from her face as she looked blankly at the woman.

She wondered why Fathiya looked like she had tears in her eyes, and why she spoke with such a soft voice.

The elder woman took a step closer and leaned towards Morgan, speaking in a low voice. "We have so much to talk about."

Morgan kept her emotional shields up, not entirely sure if the woman was acting or not. "We certainly do."

Maybe Doctor Robbins had been talking with her dad. Why else would she know why Morgan was here? How could she even recognize her? They hadn't seen each other since Morgan had baby teeth and pigtails.

She was so confused. Out of all the reactions she'd imagined the other woman would have, this had not been one of them.

"But not here." The older woman quickly whispered. "Give me thirty minutes. I'll find you."

Morgan didn't even have time to nod before the other woman had shook her hand and said 'how nice it was to finally meet her daughter's friend' and then said goodbye, walking off.

Morgan stood for a few seconds to try and reboot her brain, completely thrown by the short encounter.

Rachel was gaping at her, open mouthed and wide eyed.

"You're the second one.." She seemed to realize, her voice wondrous.

Morgan fixed her grey eyes onto her face and nodded solemnly.

Rachel's eyes widened even further if that was possible, quickly following after her mother.

Morgan simultaneously felt a huge weight settle in her stomach and a huge weight lift off of her shoulders. She heaved a deep sigh before realizing she had to inform her mentor of this new and very startling turn on events.

Upon finding him again, she saw Miss MacDonald chatting animatedly at him, her body-language all flirty as she leaned further and further towards him. Dick looked exceedingly uncomfortable.

"It's such a shame Bruce couldn't be here tonight." She said in that high-pitched voice of hers. "Of course, that means we're blessed with your lovely company, Mister Grayson, so I guess it's not so bad that it isn't good for something."

"Hey!" Morgan quickly and grumpily spoke up, too mind-blown to worry about manners. Also, seeing another woman, old harpy or not, flirt with her mentor brought out the beast in her. "Not only are you more than twice his age, which is just creepy, but he also has a date, so, scram."

The other woman simply looked too shocked to actually say anything about her very rude behavior, so, mouth hanging open and face turning steadily redder, she turned on the spot and scurried away.

Dick looked caught between being absolutely horrified and wanting to burst into laughter. His left eye sort of twitched and Morgan was afraid he'd start shouting at her or something. Instead he let out a strangled sound that could've been a chuckle and then sighed with relief. "I was afraid she'd throw herself at me."

"Don't worry, I'll protect your honor." Morgan dryly responded. Then she remembered why she'd been in such a hurry to find her mentor again in the first place. "I talked to Fathiya."

He did a double take and quickly turned to look at her. "What?"

Morgan shrugged. "I talked to her. And she isn't even attempting to pretend she doesn't know who I am. She wants to talk to me. Not here though. She said to wait half an hour and she'd be ready to get out."

Once again, her mentor looked very much caught between two emotions. He looked like he wanted to protest against her going anywhere with the woman, but also like he knew it was the only thing they could do if she wanted answers.

"Did she say if she wanted to talk to you alone?"

Morgan thought back on their conversation. "No. But to be honest, she said very little. She'll want to be alone."

Her mentor did look pretty uncomfortable with this. "I'm don't like this. It could easily be a trap."

Somehow, Morgan didn't think it was. "So, just suit up and follow us or something. I'll give you directions."

Still not looking happy about it, he nodded solemnly. The two of them stood around and waited, mostly in silence, for the next thirty minutes.

Morgan felt incredibly anxious as she waited. She couldn't know what Fathiya wanted to talk to her about, but the other woman had sounded urgent and a bit.. scared?

Obviously, it couldn't be good.

She fidgeted in her spot as the half hour passed by. Fathiya should've been here by now. Why was she late?

Morgan told herself to relax and take a deep breath. She was only two minutes late and at a party like this, it was easy to get caught in conversation with other people. Maybe she was sealing a deal with a big investor or something.

The blonde suddenly spotted the tall woman approaching in a small throng of people. She broke through the crowd and kept her eyes firmly on Morgan, motioning towards the entrance with a jerk of her head before walking in that direction. It was clear that Morgan was supposed to follow after her.

She wet her bottom lip and refrained from biting into it before taking a step after the woman.

Her mentor caught her around her upper arm, stilling her movement.

Morgan turned around and looked up at him, waiting for him to speak. She held her breath when he suddenly leaned very close, speaking in a low whisper. "At the smallest sign of trouble, I want you to get out of there. I'll be following you guys once I've suited up, but I need you to give me directions, or I won't be able to help you in case something goes wrong."

She eyed him for a moment, noticing the tense line of his shoulders and that he probably wasn't even realizing he was clasping her upper arm so tightly it actually hurt.

He was nervous for her.

"Do you understand, Morgan?" He tensely asked through clenched teeth.

She nodded at him, her face blank as she tried to pretend she wasn't worried at all.

He jerked a single nod himself and let go of her arm, and Morgan spared him one last glance before she turned and headed for the entrance, her eyes roaming around as she attempted to pinpoint Fathiya.

So... Dramatic reviews I've been getting. Either way, aside from the 4-5 hating reviews and then the arguement that broke out at the end, the reviews have been really great you guys! Only a single review telling me to update, everyone else were really positive and nice!

Anyway, I guess I should say that I'm sorry? Eh, if my last author's note offended anyone? Because going from getting zero hate to getting several hateful reviews sort of makes me suspect that it's got more to do with me than the chapter. (C'mon guys, the last chapter wasn't any worse than any other chapters, and cetainly not enough to get such a strong reaction. It's pretty obvious that it was my last statement)

And lets hope that's the end of that. No more fighting in the review section, please? If any one of you have something (complaints, rants, ect.) you want to tell me directly or somethin', you can send an anonymous ask on the tumblr page. The URL is on my FF profile.

All that aside, I hope you liked this chapter! Some jealous!Dick and some protective!Dick.

And the next chapter will be.. the truth revealed!

Fun fact: Morgan's favorite book is Les Miserables. She reads it in danish to keep up her ability to speak the language.