A couple of days after the ball, I'm working on the computer, adding and changing information in the Batcomputer's database from last night's patrol. Something felt off tonight, so naturally, I'm starting to obsess over the criminal activity. I was trained by Batman, after all.

I can't quite explain how I know, but something's happening. It's starting to feel like routine, and "routine" is almost as voodoo as "quiet" when it comes to the hero business. Nothing new is popping up. Nothing big has been happening. It feels wrong.

Bruce has been back for almost two months, and since then there hasn't been any other deaths, plots, etc. from the Batfamily or in the Justice League.

It's good. And that makes it bad.

I glance at the time; 6:46. Bruce wants me to help him evaluate a League member around nine, so I only have a little over a couple of hours. How does Bruce do it? Prepare for every contingency and research the "maybes" and "what if"s along with everything else he's in charge of?

Well, for starters, he probably doesn't contemplate how little time there is.

Pushing away my mild frustration, I begin combing through the recent reports in the Justice League, mentally pointing out and storing abnormalities. After the first few, I'm completely focused, and the rest of the world ceases to exist.

I spot tiny little inconsistencies in the reports; barely noted beyond a passing statement. Little things certain enemies knew concerning the League that they shouldn't. Preparation for a specific member, prior knowledge about a prototype weapon. One or two are commonplace. Enemies buy and sell knowledge about the League like candy. But I'm spotting eight, nine in the past week.

Small. Barely noticeable. But there's just too many for this to be coincidental.

My reverie is broken almost ninety minutes later with an announcement from the Zeta Beam. I blink several times, feeling an ache forming behind my eyes from staring at the screen for almost two hours straight. I rub them with the pads of my fingers, trying to wipe out my exhaustion.

"Hey, Nightwing."

Mildly surprised at who greeted me, I turn away from the computer completely. "Arsenal," I return, smiling pleasantly.

His grunt lets me know how his mood reflects that of a couple of nights ago; sour and short. The Titans had an emergency that Tim had planned for (and therefore invited all the Titans to be in one place should it occur, which it did) and when I had joined in after the guests had left, Roy had been in a terrible mood.

Well, at least he's talking now.

He approaches the computer with folded arms.

"Did… you need something, Roy?"

He casts me a sidelong glance at my hesitant question, probably rolling his eyes under his mask. "Yeah." I lean back, surprised at his answer. "I need a copy of the guest list from Saturday."

"Um… sure, why?" I turn to the computer and pull it up, adding another tab to the many I already have open. At Roy's request, I print it out.

He doesn't answer, skimming the list with a frown, which only deepens as he apparently doesn't find what he's looking for. "You don't ask for the names of the plus ones?" he asks, frustrated at the blanks in the list.

"Only for dinners." I stand from the chair, coming closer to where he is. "Why? Who are you looking for?"

He glances at me, his mouth tightening.

"Maybe I can help," I press. "I know more of Gotham's elite than you."

"So you knew everyone there?" he mocks, gesturing with the papers in his hand. "All three hundred something?"

I roll my eyes. "I said I know more, not that I know all. And I can find out if you give me some more details. Greatest Detective and all that." He snorts at me, mocking me without words. "Do you want to find this person or not?"

His frown deepens again and he lets out an exasperated sigh. "Fine. I met this girl… Don't you dare, Grayson…" I force my knowing smile to return neutral. "My age, dark hair. She didn't give me a last name, and her first name isn't on the list…"

"Why do you want to find her so bad?"

His eyes narrow beneath his mask. "That's none of your business."

"So I guess I'll just make my own conclusions…" I tease, winking at him as I turn back to the computer. I enter the list's program and cut out all the guests that did not show up with plus ones.

"Shut up. I liked her, but our conversation got cut short. That's it."

I cut out those I know that did not bring a teen, narrowing the list further. "Give me some more info. Age? Residency? What was her first name?"

"Er, fifteen to seventeen. I'm not sure about where she lives. Her first name is Dani."

I'm still inputting information when my brain catches up to the name and my hands freeze. I figured Dani had gone to bed when she randomly disappeared, but now that I think about it, it makes more sense that she would draw someone into a conversation for the night.

"What, do you know her?" While reproachful, he also sounds hopeful, inching closer to the computer to look at my progress.

"Um…" My voice comes out a little choked, and I clear my throat, nervous. "Yeah, I think I might. What did you guys do?"

A little more open now that I'd admitted to possibly knowing her, he adds more information. "We snuck upstairs and wandered around. We talked. Her more than me. She has a lot to say."

"About what?"

"Traveling," he answers shortly.

I look up at the ceiling, exasperated. Dani didn't tell me anything about a guy. Does that mean she's hiding something or she just didn't find it an interesting enough story to tell? I remember her saying once that she had never been interested in dating or crushes. She probably just figured Roy was just another one of her acquaintances.

Satisfied with my conclusion, I pull out my phone and text Dani, asking her to come down to the BatCave. Roy is still scrutinizing the guest list, searching for recognition.

"I should've asked her last name," he groans after another minute, turning away from the screen. "If the Titans hadn't…"

"What, if they hadn't had to save the day?" I smirk at his glare and close the list's window. "But there would've been no point. Dani doesn't have a last name."

"Then who was she there with?"

I hum in response, shoving my hands in my pockets.

Roy is about to snap at me for my behavior, but before he gets all the words out I hear the tell-tale whir of the automatic pole as someone descends.

"What do you want," Dani whines as her feet touch down on the ground. She keeps one hand on the pole, ready to leave, and leans forward on her feet, watching me. With a quick glance at Arsenal, she dismisses him completely. "I'm busy."

Arsenal has gone completely still. His slight head movements betray how he assesses her with his eyes, though she doesn't notice. I see his hands tighten slightly in their fists.

"Diiiiick," Dani groans, impatient.

I snap out of my observation. "Sorry. Dani, this is Arsenal. Arsenal, Dani."

Dani nods briefly to him, eyes flicking towards him for only a moment. "Got it. Is that all?"

I raise an eyebrow. "What's your hurry?"

She shrugs in response.

Roy utters his first sound since Dani arrived. "Er…" She glances back at him, examining his now awkward stance. He seems genuinely taken aback, and I find it equally horrific and adorable. He better not develop any kind of crush on her, no matter how cute it might end up. "Hi, it's… Roy."

Her eyebrows shoot up. "Seriously?" She glances at me, and I nod an affirmative. Her hand falls from the pole and she leans back, expression pleasantly surprised. "Alright, then, let's go." She puts her fallen hand back on the pole. "I'd race you, but you're in no position to win. So take your time."

She jerks her wrist up and the pole carries her back up, leaving Roy with one hand unconsciously rubbing the back of his head as he gazes up at her. When she's gone, he turns back to me, shock fully returned. "She lives here?! Is she another Robin?!"

I shake my head with a laugh. "No, she's not masked at all. She does like meeting them, though. We met in Bludhaven and I invited her here."

"Wait, she isn't?" I nod. "Then why is she here?"

Jason, who I guess entered the Cave at some point during the conversation, finds this the perfect place to jump in. "She's our mascot."

He's wearing another one of Dani's t-shirts, this one saying Daddy's Little Superhero, and is rubbing his oiled hands on a stained rag.

I nod. "She's like Alfred. We can't function without her support."

Jason smirks and points to me, silently agreeing.

Roy shakes his head in disbelief.

I point up at where she'd gone. "You might want to head up. She said take your time, but trust me when I say she didn't mean it."

His expression relaxes somewhat, and he takes hold of the pole and lets it whisk him up. When he's gone, Jason gestures up at him and asks, "What's with him and With-an-i?"

I fold my arms. "They met at the dance and hit it off, apparently."

"They dating?"

"Over my dead body."

"Good."

He continues on his way, shoving the rag in his back pocket as he goes. I glance at my watch and groan, realizing that it's only ten minutes until Batman's thing starts. Still, I can't be too miffed. I get to go as Nightwing, and I've really missed the old black-and-blue suit.

I dress quickly, wanting to check on Dani before I go. Using her huge skylight windows, I skim the side of the mansion and peer inside her room cautiously with a mirror. She and Roy are laid out on the floor with CDs scattered around them. I notice Dani talking animatedly, waving her arms and smiling. I realize she must've been organizing her CD case, which explained her impatience. Dani doesn't often organize or clean anything, so when she does, it's serious.

Satisfied with their choice of activity, I slide back down from where I came and re-enter the BatCave, now three minutes late.

Entering the Zeta Beam I key in the WatchTower's location and listen to the robotic voice announce my departure. My vision pixilates as I'm transported to the WatchTower despite the light filters in my mask, so I find myself momentarily disabled.

Once my eyes clear from their brief blindness, I take note of the milling members and the two I came here for; Batman and Phantom.

Batman came to me earlier today and expressed his concern in short, gruff sentences about Phantom's continued mystery. I didn't really notice, but then again, I'm not on the League. Batman doesn't distrust Phantom for it, as far as I can tell, but is still unsettled by not being in the know. Phantom, no matter how open and trusting, doesn't let his secrets out easily.

Batman wants me to use my uncanny ability of knowing every secret of every hero and befriend Phantom. Kind of manipulative, but not out of character for the Dark Knight. I said I'd be myself, which means I won't be prying, and he'd accepted the compromise.

Phantom is gazing out the window, mind wandering. I greet them both and he slowly turns his attention from the view to me, adding his own greeting and wave.

"Your mission is an arms dealing ring in Saudi Arabia," Batman debriefs, keeping it short. "They're smart; they've managed to stay outside our radar by trading in gradual shipments. Stake them out. Learn their moves, their dealings. Gathering information is the objective of this mission, but if you see an opportunity, shut them down." He nods, letting us know he's finished with the mission. "Additional information has been sent to your comm units for download."

He turns after this, receiving no questions or resistance, and walks away with a sweep of his cape. Phantom offers me a timid smile that I return, gesturing behind me towards the Beam. "If you have the stealth tech installed we can leave right away."

"I can turn invisible," he grumbles.

"Is that a no?"

He rolls his eyes and bumps his fist against the symbol on his chest. Instantly, the white of his suit fades into a dark grey and the green loses its brightness. I chuckle at the ensemble. "What?" Phantom demands, rubbing his forearm self-consciously.

"It does seem kind of pointless. I mean, your hair is still white."

He throws out his arms. "That's what I said!"

"No hoods?"

"No. Hoods mean capes, and as much as I love them, they get in my way. Hoods without capes are just fashion disasters, and I'm already wearing a hazmat suit. I need all the help I can get."

I laugh. "Fair enough. Shall we?"

He nods, following me inside the Beam. We exit through a portal almost fifty miles from our desired destination. Moving quietly, I exit the Zeta area and head over to where transportation is stocked, but Phantom stops me with a hand on my shoulder. "I can fly us there," he offers.

"You carry me? No thanks."

His eyebrows lift, unimpressed. "I can handle it. Haven't you read my list of powers?"

I shoot him a look through my mask. "I have this thing about being carried. You understand." Then I continue entering the password, allowing the hidden panel to slide back and reveal a Justice League standard issue motorcycle.

"Okay, no carrying. Can I have a motorcycle?"

I look back at him in confusion. "You can fly."

"But it's a motorcycle."

Leading the motorcycle out of its hidden garage, I respond, "Do you even know how to ride one?"

"I've ridden one before. Hijacked one, actually. Fastest bike in the Ghost Zone and I rode it all the way through." He whistles, clapping one of his hands across the other. "Just like a bicycle."

"On the ground?" I vaguely remember a note that the Ghost Zone is nothing but space with floating objects. I doubt there's a road.

His brow furrows. "In the air, on the ground, same difference."

I roll my eyes under my mask and straddle the bike, gunning the engine. "Just keep up."

He mock salutes, apparently not too put out with my refusal, and floats a bit higher in preparation for flight. I hold one finger to my ear, testing the comm link there. "Do you read me?"

"Yep," he chirps. "It's almost like we're right next to each other."

Just like that, the conversation twists back from the mission again. "Are you like this with Batman?"

"Not so much." He grins easily, his face open, and I see why Batman waited this long to care about Phantom's secrecy. He practically leaks pure, innocent energy.

Wait. I turn to him fully before placing my other hand on the motorcycle, scrutinizing him. "Are you… affecting emotions?"

He tilts his head, considering my question. "My aura does," he responds, gesturing to the faint glow largely covered by the stealth tech. "It's a reflection of my core, I think. It's a fairly new power. Very helpful for rescuing people."

I nod hesitantly, wary of anything that can mess with emotions. Phantom's expression grows uncomfortable with my look; the quiet purr of the engine the only sound between us. He eventually clears his throat, looking off into the distance, and I do the same. "It's a good thing you're on our side, then," I conclude at last, placing my other hand on the handlebar and testing the engine. "Let's go."

He flickers out of visibility as I tease the motorcycle into movement, but I trust he's still there and focus on driving. The drive only takes about a half hour, thanks to the smooth terrain and the high-tech engine of the cycle I'm driving. I ditch it about a mile out, concealing it in a dip of the landscape. It wouldn't fool anyone in broad daylight, but I'm content with it for now.

With a flick of my hand, I gesture towards the glow in the distance. It's the only source of electric light for miles, though it's largely concealed by a rock outcropping that the desert never seems to lack a supply of.

"I don't know what you mean by that," Phantom mutters in my commlink. I hear his voice with my other a few yards to my right.

I silently praise Phantom for his honesty. Most unproven heroes, when on a mission with an unfamiliar veteran, will follow gestures and obscure commands blindly, trying to prove their competence and worth. I respect how Phantom treats heroism with the utmost professionalism despite how cocky and juvenile he acts outside missions.

"Just letting you know where I'm planning on going."

I sprint off in that direction, staying low and swinging wide, aimed for the rock outcropping. It's unnerving having to trust that my companion is following without being able to see or hear him, but I ignore the unease.

When I reach the rock, I stay close to its wall and out of the light of the warehouse hidden behind it. "So we spy on them?" Phantom asks quietly, now much closer to my shoulder.

"Let's stakeout up top," I suggest, gesturing up the wall. Batman wanted us to have a boring mission with a long stakeout that would end up in a conversation, and I intend to make the most of it.

"Or we could just… Go in," he counters.

I glance in the direction his voice came from. The tone of his voice made it clear that he doesn't see the point in staking out when we can just wander inside undetected. "How long can you keep invisibility and intangibility up?"

"A really, really long time."

I stay quiet, expecting a number.

Phantom exhales with a hint of frustration. He's clearly used to being around people who are aware of the full extent of his abilities. "I don't know how long, exactly. At least twelve hours, but that was with something a lot bigger than another person so…"

"That works," I interrupt.

Note to self: intimidating Phantom makes him ramble. Since it's looking like we're not going to have a long stakeout heart-to-heart, at least I learned what makes him talk.

"Okay, just don't be weirded out," he warns. I figure he's talking about the feel of his powers, but realize what he truly meant when he takes my hand with his own. I make an involuntary, uncomfortable noise at the back of my throat. "I know, but it's the easiest way to keep contact."

"Just know I'm not interested," I tease as we float (I guess he just floats with people?) out from behind the rock and towards the facility. I notice I can see him now, though we both look almost translucent. I decide to trust that we can't be seen despite what I myself can see, and relax into our cover.

"I have a girlfriend," he hisses, his face coloring with the green ectoplasm he has for blood.

"Really? Anyone I know?"

Our conversation gets quieter as we approach the warehouse that seems eerily quiet. I would've assumed guards, but sometimes they just use cameras. Probably night vision ones; the light comes from the inside, not the outside. Only the windows let out light.

"No," he mutters, defensive.

I hum at his blunt answer. Not a hero, not a villain, so... what? A Lois to his Superman? That's interesting.

We walk-float-through the wall of the warehouse, coming into a large room full of crates I have no doubt are full of weapons. It's just as empty inside as the outside, with no people or movement. Is it abandoned?

Moving closer, I survey the ground and the machines, stooping to scrutinize the dust layer. Not much on panels, but plenty on the ground. Something's not right here. The lights are on, but nobody's here. The heat's off, though, and it feels a lot colder than the outdoors. Phantom and I both have clouds of breath.

Phantom notices his breath, having been watching me intently for instructions, and his eyes dart back up to his surroundings. I feel the cold intensify and Phantom jerks my wrist, sending us both flying backward. He tugs me behind a crate.

I look at Phantom, who's staring back at me with a set expression. I then turn my attention to my free hand, still finding it translucent. Phantom silently shakes his head and gestures with his free hand to look above the crates with him.

We're still invisible… right? But as soon as we rise enough to peer over the boxes, I see the reason for his reaction. The room had been empty when we arrived, but it was now filling with floating, translucent figures.

"They're invisible, like us," Phantom breathes into my ear, so quiet I barely hear him. His breath is cold and sends shivers down my spine. "Ghosts."

"Why would ghosts be involved in a weapon trading ring?" I whisper back, both wondering aloud and searching for an answer from my companion. The ghosts continue to work, unaware of our presence. There are only about two dozen, all dressed in various work outfits and working swiftly.

"This is bad." Phantom's hold tightens, squeezing my hand uncomfortably. "They can see us. We need to go."

"No. Batman said-"

Before I can finish, Phantom and I drop into the ground at dizzying speed. He twists and moves as if he can see through the dirt and rock surrounding us. I find I don't need to breathe in this state but that without the oxygen I can't speak. Phantom flies for nearly ten minutes with a determined glare, ignoring my tugs on his hand. When we exit the ground, we're back at the Zeta location.

Phantom releases me and I call for my borrowed cycle as I fix him with a hard glare. "We don't abandon missions half-way through," I snap, frustrated at his response and my own helplessness to stop him. "We were not discovered or otherwise compromised. You can't always rely on your powers, because there's always going to be a weakness. You have to adapt to the circumstances! No mission plan survives first contact!"

He floats quietly, listening to my reprimands. When I pause, waiting for a response, he asks, "Can I explain?"

Not softening my glare, I nod.

"Those aren't real ghosts," he reveals. "My sense was weird. No tingle, just cold breath. They weren't sentient, did you see that? They were… robots." He rubs the back of his neck, lost in thought. "Not all dead people become ghosts, and not all ghosts are dead people. Ghosts are ectoplasm combined through severe emotion, ideas or beliefs. Sometimes a powerful soul with powerful emotions can draw enough ectoplasm to create a human ghost, like me. Other times, an idea is so strong in this world it manifests in the next. Like eternal youth, or mythological creatures."

He begins floating back and forth, pacing in that ghostly way of his. "Incredibly powerful ideological ghosts can make these… shade creatures. Not real ghosts, just manifestations. But they have to stay by their creator. They're the equivalent of human ghosts making duplicates. But those shades… They were by themselves. Powerful ghosts have a larger range, and it would've had to be outside mine and the shades."

He falls quiet for a moment, so I intervene. "That doesn't explain your reaction."

"Someone's figured out how to make shades out of range. The power involved in that…" He shakes his head. "Huge." He paces again, having stopped at my comment. "Shades are incapable of thought. They do what they're told. But I'm willing to bet they have a response to intruders. They have all the basic ghost powers: flight, invisibility, intangibility, aversion to gravity, and overshadowing."

"Still not seeing why you freaked…"

"If they saw us, I can't guarantee we would be able to get out of there. There could've been more; I can never get a number with those things. Nothing else would happen there anyway. It was just a loading dock."

"You didn't want to get caught?"

"Or sensed. This is incredibly secretive, don't you see? Only another ghost or a human with ghost weapons on them could see what was happening there! I'm the only ghost on your side, and you guys only carry ghost weapons whenever we need them."

His voice is getting more frantic, but not in a panicked way. I can see him connecting dots in his head, and I allow him to continue ranting and rambling. It's a secure area anyway. "I never go on these types of missions. I'm one of the obvious guys. It's like sending Superman or Wonder Woman on a stakeout. This could be going on everywhere! There could be a whole underground network of shades!"

I interrupt, now seeing his point. I mean, he did overreact, but better to overreact now than risk discovery that could speed up unknown plans. "They've created an undetectable, completely subservient race. This is worse than cloning. Are you the only one who can detect them?"

Eyes wide, he nods. "Unless you have the equipment."

"We need to tell Batman."

I knew there was something going on beneath all our noses. These shades... they've been spying on us. They can possess us. This is the cloning mole problem all over again, with an enemy we've barely begun to discover.

For the second time that night, I scoff and mutter to Phantom, "It's a good thing you're on our side."

Sorry that took like two weeks. Rude of me, I know. I'll have you know, the next chapter has the first of two revelations from Dani. Vlad will be making an appearance next chapter, and I'm sorry to say to you Vlad fans that he will not be a misunderstood ally in this. He is evil. My apologies, but I wanted some angst, you know?

Some replies to the comment section! I know y'all have been on the edge of your seats for this.

The pairing will be innocent, I promise. Very "stolen glances" and "hiding chaste blushes" and all that. Remember, Dani is only three years old mentally, though her body is mature. Romance and crushes and all that is very new to her. Plus, Roy always struck me as the awkward at love thing. But who knows, I'm just playing around with this.

It's true Vlad could've messed with her DNA, but I do not have the kind of understanding necessary to even pretend to know how that would work. So either way, it works for this story.

Dani doesn't technically exist, but in the next chapter she does take Dick's last name in order to get a license. So, if that counts?

That's all! As always, comments are deeply appreciated and cherished. Really good ones go on my tombstone ;)