August 18, 1215h

	Filb pulled the squad car in behind the Volvo parked in the Grayson's 
driveway, deciding he'd rather not block the Bentley.  He had been relieved when 
Amy called this morning saying she needed a runner.  Runners didn't need 
partners, and work got Filb out of the house.
	He had ducked in and out of the precinct hastily, avoiding sympathetic 
stares and awkward conversation.  As long as his partner teetered on a line 
between life and death, other cops would be uncomfortable around him.  Premature 
sympathy would jinx Dick's chance of recovery, by cop logic, but business as 
usual just felt wrong.
	Filb knew Amy was creating work for him when she sent him out to the 
Graysons'.  It was a worthy mission, though, if not the most practical use of 
tax dollars.  No one would hold it against them.
	A wave of heat flooded into the car as Filb opened the door.  By the time 
he reached the front door of the Grayson home, sweat was trickling down his back 
under the required bullet proof vest.  August and January, Filb grumbled to 
himself.  Worst months to be a cop.
	When he rang the doorbell, Babs answered almost instantly.  She looked 
haggard, her eyes seeming almost bruised and her hair hanging limp.  But her 
smile at him was genuine as she exclaimed, "Filb!"  Almost without thought, Filb 
leaned down to embrace her, letting her cling to him for a moment.  He 
straightened when he saw Dinah enter the hallway.
	"Dinah, you remember Filb?" Babs asked, dashing a quick hand across her 
eyes.
	Dinah smiled easily, although she too looked impossibly weary.  "Of 
course, Babs.  How could I forget someone who works his way into so many of 
Dick's stories?"
	Filb laughed.  "I can imagine.  But whatever you've heard, I can promise 
you that Grayson started it."
	Babs managed a short chuckle at that as she herded Filb away from the 
entrance and shut the door.  There was a soft whir of the air conditioner 
cycling on to counter the August swelter that had accompanied Filb's entrance.
	"So you've come to look in on your partner?" Dinah asked conversationally.
	Filb glanced uncertainly at Babs.  "Is that - I mean, last I heard -"
	Babs gave him a reassuring smile.  "I'm sorry, Filb, I should've called.  
We brought him home this morning.  Just got him settled, really."
	"So he's -"
	"-turned a corner," Dinah finished firmly, as if forestalling further 
discussion. 
	"Okay," Filb agreed easily.  "I'd like to see him, but I'm also kinda on a 
mission."
	Dinah gestured Filb to an easy chair and sat on the living room sofa as 
Babs followed them into the room.  "A mission?" she asked brightly.  "Do tell."
	"I'm s'posed to get a lunch date for Amy and me," Filb explained, again 
looking more to Babs than Dinah.  "How's the boy doing?"
	"Much better with some sleep in him and a glimmer of hope.  Last night was 
rough, but -"
	"-but when he woke up this morning he had enough spunk to argue with me 
about taking a bath 'just 'cuz,'" Dinah interjected, smiling.
	"Don't tell me you made that boy wash?" Filb managed to sound 
appropriately aghast.
	"Yep.  Even under the fingernails and behind the ears.  I'm such an evil 
Grandma."
	This drew a laugh from Babs.  "Dick's gonna love calling you that."
	"Yeah, like he'll be willing to give up referring to me as 'Mommie 
Dearest.'"  Dinah turned to Filb.  "How do you put up with that man?"
	"Well, you know how it goes.  You get stuck with a partner, you learn to 
handle their quirks."
	Filb didn't quite understand the look and laugh which passed between the 
two women at this remark, but he took their laughter as a good sign.  "He's 
really getting better, isn't he?"
	This sobered them.  "He's not entirely out of danger, but we're not minute 
to minute.  It looks like the worst has passed," Babs explained.
	Filb nodded.  "So you think it'd be okay if me'n' Amy took Spud to 
Hogan's?"
	Babs eyes brightened as Dinah exclaimed, "What a great idea!  Get some 
food into the kid."
	"If he'll go," Babs hedged.  "He should get out of the house, but I'm not 
going to force him..."
	"Oh, you leave that to me," Filb reassured.  "I've got a plan."
	A relieved smile played on Babs' lips.  "If you can manage it - that'd 
help so much."
	That settled it, Filb decided.  He would manage it.  He stood.  "I'm technically on the clock, so I s'pose I 
shouldn't just sit around.  Can I poke my head in -?"