August 18, 1315 Spud stared emptily out the window as Filb expertly parallel parked the squad car. Riding along with Filb had made his recent resolution to not worry Babs anymore easy; he could pretend that they were just hanging out after a ball game, waiting for Dick and Babs to come back from Gotham or something. When they had picked up Amy, however, and Spud had moved to the back seat to let her ride up front... It wasn't Amy's fault. She was the way she always was, making conversation with him by asking about his swimming lessons and aikido classes and making joking comments about how he needed to keep his father in line. He couldn't keep up his end, though, and his silence spread to the rest of the car. "Here we are!" Filb announced as he turned off the ignition. "'Bout time," Amy grumbled. "I'm starving." "Me, too," Spud tried gamely, aware that his stomach actually *did* feel hungry. "Well, then, let's get to eatin'!" Filb opened his door and stepped out, and Spud undid his seatbelt and scrambled to the rear passenger side door as Amy opened it for him. He took her hand because she offered it, and the two of them followed Filb into Hogan's Alley. "Well, if it isn't the Liberal posse!" a familiar voice greeted, and Spud craned his neck in the direction of the sound. "Hey, Mutt," he greeted. "Hey, Spud," the young man returned. "Usual booth?" he asked Amy. "You know it. And since when are we Grayson's posse?" "Since forever. I see how he rubbed off on you." "Ha!" Amy disagreed. "I taught that boy everything he knows." "Ri-ight," Michael Hogan replied, dropping three menus onto a table as Amy, Filb and Spud seated themselves. "When's school start?" Filb asked, picking up one of the menus. "Oh, freshman orientation starts on the 25th. Seems inhuman to me, starting before summer is properly over. Pop says the dorms are likely to be like ovens." "Probably," Amy put in. "I don't know about the rest of this crew, but I know what I want." Michael pulled an order pad out of his bar apron. "California burger with steak fries, side salad and a Soder," he recited. "Pop probably already has it on the grill. Filb? Spud?" "Oh, my usual," Filb answered, closing the menu. "Got it," Michael replied. "Coffee today?" "Yeah, why not? Keep me awake through that paperwork Amy's gonna make me do later." "Consider it doubled," Amy said sweetly. "Spud?" Spud looked around the table and thought for a second. "I'm s'posed to be here for Dick," he said carefully, "so I guess I'll eat whatever he orders." Michael nodded, jotting something down on the order pad and scooping up the menus. "How's the old man doing, anyway?" he asked, trying to make the question sound casual. Spud matched his tone. "Better." He did not miss the looks that passed between the adults. "Good," Michael declared. "I'll be out with your food in a few."