August 18, 1230h

	Dinah lead Filb down the familiar hall to the bedrooms.  Then she paused 
in the hall and turned serious eyes to Filb.  "He looks terrible," she warned, 
"but he really - he's better.  He'll get better."
	Filb nodded, trying to ignore the hint of wild hope in Dinah's tone.  
"I've seen this kinda thing before," he remarked gruffly.  He'd been a cop too 
long.
	Dinah inspected him frankly for a moment.  "Yeah," she finally said, "I 
know the feeling."  She put her hand on the doorknob.  "Thanks, by the way."
	He gave her a puzzled look.
	"For being there for them."
	"He's my partner."  Filb's tone was all the explanation that was 
necessary.
	Dinah nodded.  "Spud's in his room when you're done here," she told him, 
opening the door.
	An old man by Dick's side looked up at Filb's entrance and closed the book 
in his lap.  "You must be Officer Filbert," the man said in cultured tones.
	Filb nodded.  "Alfred?"
	Alfred inclined his head in confirmation.  "Come to see Master Dick?"
	Filb let his eyes settle on the bed and its occupant.  "He's late for 
work," he commented, prompting a weary smile from the older man.
	"He's never been one for mornings.  Although I'm expecting at any moment 
that he will jump up to complain about this respirator."  Alfred put a fond hand 
to Dick's pale cheek, and Filb was surprised to see Dick turn his head toward 
the gesture.
	"Hey, he's -"
	"Since this morning.  He's not regained consciousness yet, but he's at 
least reacting."
	Filb stepped forward, staring intently through he tubes and wires to the 
young man among them.  He had not lied to Dinah; he'd seen other friends - other 
cops - mowed down in a heart beat, one moment cracking jokes around the coffee 
pot, the next being fed through a tube.  But this was his partner: smiling, 
impatient, always-on-the-move Dick Grayson.
	"You can talk to him," Alfred encouraged.  "I've just been reading him 
_Henry IV_, so I'm sure he'd welcome something a little less bookish."
	Filb chuckled weakly.  "I should've brought our unfinished reports.  
Nothin' moves Grayson quite like the threat of paperwork."
	An appreciative, acknowledging smile crossed Alfred's features as his eyes 
met Filb's for a moment.  Filb looked away quickly, recognizing the strangely 
similar fondness that he and Alfred shared for the young man between them.  He 
fought the lump in his throat for a moment as he considered his partner.  Then 
he let out a little laugh.  "How about it, Grayson?  Think I should bring in 
some paperwork?  I mean, since you've decided to laze about and leave me to deal 
with Amy.
	"She's pissed, you know.  Got me drivin' ALL OVER Haven County.  Made me 
come all the way out here to kidnap your kid, even.  Barb said it was okay."
	Filb sat down on the edge of the king sized bed as he talked.  "Gonna take 
him to Hogan's, and it's your turn to buy."
	Alfred had returned to his chair as Filb began his monologue, but he 
looked up at this.  "You may want to consider that seriously, Officer Filbert.  
Master James has been known to have a hollow leg on occasion."
	"Heh.  Like father, like son."
	"Quite so.  That's a marvelous idea, by the way.  Master James could use a 
substantial meal."
	"What, hasn't Grayson been feeding the kid?  Well, since *someone* here 
seems to be welshing out of their responsibilities, I s'pose I'll cover Spud's 
tab myself.  But you are SO going to owe me, Grayson."
	"I'll make sure he doesn't forget, Officer Filbert."
	"Hear that, partner?  Alfred's my witness."
	Filb paused, then reached across Dick's body to grasp the hand of his 
unbandaged arm.  The squeeze that Dick returned was heartening.  "Get better, 
Grayson.  We need you out there," he finished gruffly, then released Dick's hand 
and stood.
	"Nice meetin' you finally, Alfred.  Dick's had nothin' but good things 
t'say about you."
	"Likewise, Officer.  And it is good to see that Master Dick has found such 
a good and worthy friend.  Master James is going to be thrilled."
	"I hope so.  Later, Grayson."