Author's Note: This is a companion story to "Partners in Crime". (Available 
at www.fanfiction.net under the author's name.) As there, strictly the 
original B:TAS universe, not Adventures of Batman and Robin, or 
Batman/Superman Adventures. It does, however, make reference to the original 
comic book version of “Mad Love”.

Rating: PG

***

Babes In The Woods
by Lydia Hunter (dynapink15@yahoo.com)

***

In her old life she had been Pamela Lillian Isley, a research chemist with a 
Ph.D. in botany. Everyone who knew her would have described her as a vibrant, 
sexy, highly intelligent woman. Possibly a little obsessive about plants, but 
otherwise her life was a dream: she had the sort of looks most women would 
kill for, a successful career, and she was engaged to marry Gotham City's 
handsome young district attorney, Harvey Dent.

But things had changed....

Pam no longer existed. Now she was Poison Ivy, a permanent resident 
(excluding her not infrequent escapes and resultant plant-related crime 
sprees) of the Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane.

The punishment was a little excessive in her opinion. After all, she had only 
tried to kill her fiance because he built his stupid little prison on the 
last remaining habitat of a rare species of rose. Killing the murderer of 
defenseless little plants was certainly justifiable homicide in Ivy's mind. 
Oh, well. Harvey had eventually gotten what was coming to him, although it 
had come at the hands of a gangster and a vat of acid rather than from her. 
But, in retrospect, she figured living like that, with face and mind 
permanently shattered, was probably a better punishment than death anyway.

Poison Ivy smiled to herself as she stretched out on her bunk. Reaching down 
with one hand, she withdrew a magazine from its hiding place under the 
mattress, and turned again to the pertinent article. "Janus grass," she said 
softly. She knew enough mythology to realise why the name of that particular 
plant always made her think of Harvey. But she had more important things on 
her mind right now. 

Specifically her plan, stunning in its simplicity and virtually foolproof. 
Escaping from Arkham would be the hardest part of the whole thing, and that 
had never given her much trouble in the past. No, what she had to decide on 
now was a traveling companion. The job itself was easy enough she could 
handle it alone, no need to hire any flunkies as she sometimes did. But it 
might be nice to have some company, anyway.

She moved to the plexiglass wall dividing her cell from the next one and 
stood watching the occupant with a slight frown. A young woman with a messy 
blonde ponytail sat cross-legged on her bunk, tongue sticking out in 
concentration as she industriously cut out paper dolls with a blunt pair of 
scissors.

As she held up the string of dolls, she caught sight of her friend watching 
her. A wide grin spread across her face. "Hiya, Red!" she called, waving.

"Hi, Harley."

The other woman jumped to her feet and almost literally bounced across to the 
plexiglass wall. "Whatcha doin'?" she asked.

Ivy smiled back, making her decision. Even though Harley Quinn might look and 
act like a ditz, she wasn't truly stupid...just completely bonkers. But she 
was also Poison Ivy's best friend, and a lot of fun to have around.

"Harley," she began sweetly, "have you ever done any camping?"

***

"Yeah! It's the only way to fly!"

Batgirl tightened the line around her wrist, checking the security of the 
grapnel that held her on top of the truck. She leaned back, enjoying the feel 
of the wind on her face and knowing she looked good with her long red hair 
whipping around and her blue cape flying out behind her.

Apparently she wasn't the only person who thought so. As she struck a 
particularly dramatic pose, she heard a loud wolf-whistle. Batgirl shot a 
surprised look toward her left, just in time to see a familiar blue-black car 
drawing even with the truck. The Batmobile's canopy was open, and leaning out 
of the driver's side was none other than Robin, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Hey, lady! Want a lift?" he called.

She shrugged — not particularly easy to do while balancing on top of a 
furniture truck — and stepped to the edge. Gauging the distance, she let got 
of her batline and dropped into the passenger seat of the Batmobile.

Robin nodded in approval. "Nice. No *way* could you have done that a year 
ago."

The girl gave a smug little nod. "I know what I'm doing. All it took was 
practice."

"Yeah, and a lot of training from Catwoman."

Batgirl opened her mouth for a quick retort, but considering it was perfectly 
true, she decided it might be prudent to change the subject. "So, how come 
*you're* driving the Batmobile? On your way to pick up Batman somewhere?"

"No, he was...uh, called out of town on business. I'm patrolling on my own 
tonight."

"And he told you you could use his car? Just like that?"
They were leaving the main part of the city behind now, and the traffic was 
thinning out. Robin eased into the right lane, planning to take the next exit 
and circle back to make another circuit of Gotham.

Finally he looked back at Batgirl. "Well, he didn't tell me I couldn't," he 
grinned. 

"Oh. So, anything going on to—"

Before she could finish her sentence, a small, white car rushed up on them at 
high speed, horn blaring. 

"What the...?!" exclaimed Robin.

As the white car started to pass, the driver jerked the wheel sharply to the 
right, coming directly at the Batmobile. Instinctively, Robin did the same. 
He managed to evade the other car, but the Batmobile plowed into the concrete 
guardrail with a loud crunch.

The white car sped off into the twilight. The window on the passenger side 
rolled down and a head popped out — a woman's head, strangely garbed in a 
hood of red and black, with long, floppy "ears". Her face was painted white, 
and she wore a black half-mask over her eyes. "Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah!" 
she shouted.

Robin fumbled briefly with a compartment underneath the dash. Withdrawing a 
curious object Batgirl now recognised as a tracking gun, he popped the bubble 
canopy and fired at the retreating vehicle. The tracking dart fell just short 
of its object.

Shaking his head in aggravation, Robin climbed out of the wrecked car. 
Batgirl followed, shakily. "Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'll live. You okay?"

He walked slowly around to the other side and stood examining the damage, 
which was considerable, but mostly cosmetic as far as he could tell. "I may 
not be when Batman gets a load of this. Worse, that was Harley Quinn. I sure 
hope the Joker hasn't escaped again."

Batgirl stood gazing into the distance, at the darkening sky above Gotham 
City. A powerful floodlight lit the sky, projecting the image of a stylized 
bat in flight against a yellow background. The Bat signal.

"Come on. We better get to work," Robin told her.

"Yeah, I'm sure Da— uh, Commissioner Gordon has some information we can use." 
In the fifteen months or so since Barbara Gordon had first put on the Batgirl 
costume and set out to fight crime, she had never quite managed to rid 
herself of the habit of almost calling the police commissioner "Dad". But so 
far no one had caught the slip except Catwoman, her friend and erstwhile 
teacher.

***

The duo landed lightly on the roof of police headquarters, where the 
commissioner and his second in command stood waiting.

Commissioner James Gordon looked a little anxious when he saw only the two 
young crimefighters. "Batman's still away?" he asked.

"'Fraid so," answered Robin. "But he should be back soon."

"And what about our famous criminal turned crime fighter? She hasn't been on 
the prowl lately, either," commented the deputy commissioner, with a touch of 
sarcasm in her voice.

Batgirl looked at her with a slight frown, wondering, as she did every time 
they met, if the deputy suspected the woman behind the bat mask was her own 
stepdaughter. "Oh, Selina's in Chicago with her boyfriend. You know, Bruce 
Wayne," she added, just to bait her.

Sarah Gordon gave her husband a look that clearly said, 'Batman and Bruce 
Wayne are out of town at the same time again. How convenient.' She had been 
convinced for years they were the same man, but she couldn't prove it and 
couldn't make anyone else believe her.

The commissioner's expression reminded her it was no time to get sidetracked.

"We've already had a run-in with Harley tonight," said Robin. "Literally. So 
what's the deal? Joker out again?"

Gordon shook his head. "Safe and sound in Arkham. This time it's girls' night 
out."

"The Plant Lady. Great. Any leads?"

"Just this," Sarah told him, holding out a faxed copy of the article Poison 
Ivy had been reading earlier. "It was found in Quinn's cell."

Meaning Harley had either screwed up and left it behind, or it was a trap. 
They'd just have to wait and see.

Robin scanned the article quickly, with Batgirl reading over his shoulder. It 
was all very scientific, and they both lacked Batman's training in that area, 
but it was easy enough to understand what would attract Poison Ivy's 
interest. The article dealt with a recent discovery of the use of a rare 
plant called Janus grass as a nerve toxin causing temporary paralysis.

He sighed. "I'll see what I can do." He disappeared without another word, 
leaving Batgirl to scurry after him with only a quick, "Bye-ee!" to her 
parents.

Robin was waiting for her in the Batmobile, studying the article a little 
more closely. Apparently, Janus grass — which wasn't really grass at all but 
a species of weed — was rare in the United States, but there was no mention 
of the few places it could be found.

"The computer can probably help us find this stuff," he told Batgirl. He 
pulled away from the curb, keeping one eye on the road as he reached to press 
a couple of buttons on the computer link. Nothing happened. "What?! Come on!"
He slammed on the brakes and gave the computer his full attention. He hit 
another series of keys. Nothing did any good.

"Do you think it got damaged in the wreck?" Batgirl asked.

"Probably," he answered glumly.

She bit her lip. "Now what?" she asked.

"Now we find another computer. Hey, you don't object to blindfolds, do you?"

"Why?"

Robin just grinned.

***

"Okay, you can look now."

Batgirl removed her blindfold and stepped out of the car. She looked around 
her slowly, mouth falling open. She was in a huge cavern of some kind. 
Various work stations were dotted here and there on rock "islands" connected 
by a series of catwalks. There was a constant background noise of fluttering 
wings overhead. She gasped involuntarily as a bat — a real one, and 
apparently only one of thousands — swooped into her line of vision.

"What is this place?" she asked Robin.

"The Batcave. Sanctum sanctorum. Look around, make yourself at home. I'll be 
back in a minute. Just try not to fall off any ledges," he cautioned.

He headed toward the stairs, pausing briefly to snatch the picture of Bruce 
Wayne's parents off a table next to the computer, and glance around to make 
sure there were no other tell-tale signs of the occupants' real identities. 
As he rounded the bend in the stairs, he handed the photo to the person who 
stood waiting there, an extremely dignified man in his 60's, wearing a 
starched butler's uniform.

"Master Dick, what exactly are you playing at?" asked the older man with a 
frown of disapproval.

"Believe me, Alfred, I'm not playing. Tonight's been no fun at all, and it's 
just getting started."

Alfred pursed his lips. "Master Bruce is *not* going to be pleased about your 
bringing the young lady here. Not to mention the apparent condition of the 
Batmobile."

Robin sighed. "I know, Alfred, but I didn't really have any choice since the 
car's computer link is down. Don't worry; I'll handle Bruce." He turned to 
go, making sure the butler could see the fingers crossed behind his back.

Ten minutes work with the incredibly high-tech Bat computer netted them the 
information that there were only eleven places in the country where Janus 
grass was known to grow, including two in the general vicinity of Gotham 
City. And one of those locations was a forest a couple of hours south of town 
where Poison Ivy had once operated one of her scams, an establishment called 
the Eternal Youth Spa.

***

The article hadn't gone into specifics about how the nerve toxin was supposed 
to be made, but a small detail like that presented little difficulty to 
someone of Ivy's capabilities. She had a whole makeshift laboratory set up in 
a clearing, with equipment she kept stockpiled in her various hideouts, and 
even a few things she had persuaded Harley to "borrow" from the Joker's 
collection.

Harley sat with her chin cupped in her hands, watching her friend work with a 
bored expression on her face. "When do we get to have some fun with this 
stuff?" she asked. 

"It will be ready soon. Just be patient," said Ivy, like a mother with a 
cranky seven-year-old. She blew a long strand of coppery hair out of her face 
and went back to her task with intense concentration. The next few steps were 
crucial.

"Do we really have to stay in sleeping bags tonight?" whined Harley.

"Yes," Ivy answered shortly.

Harley gave a deep sigh. "Y'know, I really miss cuddling up with my Puddin' 
at night. He always — "

"Harley!"

"*Sorry*."

Poison Ivy worked in silence for a few minutes, managing to put the finishing 
touches on her creation in peace. Finally she straightened and sighed with 
satisfaction. "There. Now we just have to let it bubble for a little bit, 
while I think of just the right way to...present it." With a final glance of 
approval at the bubbling green mixture, she moved away and sat down on the 
grass next to her companion.

Harley popped her gum and said, "Say, Red, I've been thinkin'. Can you make 
me some of your special lipstick, so I can make Mr. J. do just what I want? 
Or maybe two — black for when I'm wearing the costume and red for everyday. 
Okay?"

Ivy smiled fondly, shaking her head no. "Sorry, Harley," she told her. "You 
don't have my immunity to poisons, so your system couldn't tolerate wearing 
it."

"Oh, fudgesicles!"

"Just keep on fighting back like you have been doing, instead of letting him 
run over you. Since you've been spatting it back to him, I've noticed 
something that for him might *almost* pass for respect lately."

"You really think so?" asked Harley, eyes sparkling. "He could just be 
feeling guilty for shoving me out that window."

"Oh, sure," said Ivy doubtfully.

Harley looked thoughtful. There was some truth in what Ivy said. Ever since 
that incident some months ago when he had knocked her out a fifth story 
window with a stuffed *swordfish* of all things, things had definitely 
changed between them. The fall had almost killed her, and she had vowed then 
and there not to have anything to do with the Joker and his madness ever 
again. And she had meant it!

But...well, after all, he *was* her Puddin' and she loved him. And she knew 
he loved her too, even if she couldn't get anybody else to believe it.

Still, she had gained enough from the experience to know she would never let 
things go back to the way they used to be. (Maybe.) Now, when the Joker got 
out of line, Harley Quinn didn't just lie there like a doormat and take it — 
she fought back. She had seen real fear in his face more than once, and it 
was a major turn-on for her. And him.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "I guess it's like you said when we first met, that 
I shouldn't be some wacko's victim the rest of my life." 

"That's it!" agreed Poison Ivy, pleased that her lessons in female self-
esteem were finally having some effect, albeit considerably delayed.

"Right. It's better to be a wacko's *consort*."

Ivy sighed.

"Y'know," continued Harley, "the last couple times we escaped, he hasn't even 
kicked me outta bed so much."

"That's encouraging," said Ivy, knowing she meant it literally.

Harley stuck out her lips in a sudden pout. "'Course it was always fun makin' 
up the next day. He always liked for me to kiss Mr. Happy good morning." Ivy 
gagged. "Kiss Mr. Happy?! That's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard!"

"Like *you've* never done that," accused Harley, looking at her friend slyly.

"Honey, I've done *everything*. But not with the Joker!" The very thought of 
it made her sick.

Harley sniffed. Nobody understands about me and my Puddin', she thought 
tearfully. Not even my very best friend.

"He's not really such a bad guy once you get to know him," she sulked. Then 
she brightened. "Hey, that's a great idea! How 'bout if we go on like a 
double date or something? Yeah! Me and Mr. J. and you and, uh...oh! You and 
Two-Face! That's it! Whaddaya think?" 

Poison Ivy just stared at her for a moment, blinking dumbly. When she finally 
recovered her powers of speech, she said, as diplomatically as possible, "I'm 
not sure that would be such a good idea, Harley. Harv and I aren't exactly on 
the best of terms these days."

"You mean there aren't any feelings left between you at all?"

"Homicidal ones." But she looked thoughtful, thinking back to her brief but 
intense relationship with the former D.A. Granted, she'd only gotten close to 
him to murder him, but she had to admit the relationship had provided some 
unexpected dividends. Harvey Dent was a man of hidden talents, who went a 
long way toward proving the old adage 'It's always the quiet ones.'

"You know, if he's *half* as good as he used to be, I'd almost be willing to 
give it a try," she said musingly.

Harley nodded sagely. "See, that's what I always thought. There are some 
unresolved issues between you." Before she had ever been a patient at Arkham, 
Harley had been on staff there, as a clinical psychiatrist. Every once in 
awhile, she liked to remind people of the fact she wasn't just another blonde 
bimbo.

"Thanks for the free analysis, Dr. Quinzel. Now if you'll excuse me, Ivy has 
to get back to her poison."

***

*He's done this before*, thought Batgirl.

Robin made tracking criminals through a heavily wooded area look like a 
Saturday afternoon stroll in the park. Meanwhile, she was tripping over every 
root and getting scratched by every thorn, and worse yet, she was painfully 
aware that she was slowing them both down.

He was very aware of that fact, too, and getting a little irritated. But he 
was trying to be patient and understanding. After all, he'd had years of on-
the-job training, and it was doubtful that Catwoman had included a crash 
course in jungle tracking when she elected to train the city's newest 
vigilante.

While he was thinking all this, Robin heard a muffled shriek from behind him. 
His tolerant irritation vanished instantly, to be replaced by alarm. He 
rushed back the way he came. Batgirl was sitting on a fallen log with her 
face buried in her hands. He touched her shoulder.

"Hey, what happened?"

"I got hit in the face by a limb," she answered in a muffled voice.

"You okay?"

Wordlessly, she turned away from him, then handed him a piece of tattered 
blue and black cloth. Robin turned it over in his hands, puzzled, until he 
realised it was Batgirl's cowl, with a large jagged triangular piece torn out 
of the mask part. The missing piece was still hanging on the branch behind 
him. He retrieved it and handed both pieces of fabric back to the owner.

"How come my cowl only gets ripped when you're around?" she asked sullenly, 
thinking back to their very first meeting.

He couldn't resist. "Maybe because we always have such a *ripping* good time 
together," he grinned.

Batgirl turned around in surprise. "That's really..." she started to protest, 
then, as she realised her mistake, she added weakly, "...stupid. Oh, boy, 
that was brainless! I can't believe I just did that...and for the second 
time, too!"

Robin wasn't listening to her. Shaking his head unbelievingly, he said, 
mostly to himself, "I shoulda known. I mean, it's so *obvious* — you should 
have been the first person I thought of. I should've *known* it couldn't be 
anybody else but you."

"Why not? It's not like we grew up together or anything, right?" That comment 
about her identity being 'too obvious' stung.

"No, Barbara. Only since about *fourth grade*." With a sigh, Robin reached up 
and peeled off his own domino mask.

Barbara Gordon's eyes widened in astonishment. "But...but..." she stammered. 
"I don't get it, Dick! If you're Robin, then who's Batman?"

Dick Grayson gave her a wordless stare, making her feel even more brainless 
than her stunt with the mask. The answer came to her almost immediately, and 
she flushed in embarrassment.

"Oh. I get it. You mean Sarah was actually right all this time? Does Catwoman 
know about this?"

Dick grinned. "Got it in one. Selina found out everything a few months ago. 
And as for your stepmother, she may be a pain in the butt sometimes, but 
she's a good cop, with good instincts."

"Good thing for you guys she can't prove her instincts."

"You said it. Now let's do something about that mask." He knelt in front of 
her and pulled her ripped cowl back into place. From one of the compartments 
of the utility belt he was always bragging about, he pulled a small tube of 
spirit glue. Using one ungloved finger, he quickly stuck the torn edges to 
her face, then set about positioning the triangular piece back into place.

While he worked, Batgirl said thoughtfully, "You know, this does answer one 
question I always wondered about. Selina always claimed to love Batman, and 
Bruce was just a good friend. Next thing I know she's head over heels in love 
with Bruce Wayne, and taking him to Chicago to meet her mother. So obviously 
she just made a big production out of getting involved with Bruce after he 
told her, right?"

She looked so smug after her "detective work" speculations he almost hated to 
disappoint her. "Nope. He made her choose. She picked Bruce, and *then* he 
told her."

"What a jerk!"

Robin shrugged. "What do you want me to do, deny it?" he asked. He finished 
fitting his own mask into place, then took Batgirl's hand and pulled her to 
her feet. "Come on. We can't sit around all night discussing Batman's love 
life. We've got work to do."

***

Another twenty minutes walk brought the two young crimefighters almost within 
sight of Harley and Ivy's campsite. Robin stopped and took a pair of high-
powered folding binoculars from his utility belt. Scanning the area 
carefully, he finally located a spot free enough of vegetation to allow him a 
view of the camp. Perfect. Poison Ivy was putting the finishing touches on 
her witch's brew, and Harley Quinn was watching her.

He handed the binoculars to Batgirl. "Okay, you stay here as backup. I 
shouldn't have any problems taking them both down, but you keep your eyes 
peeled. And don't move unless I get into trouble. Understand?"

His partner turned on him, eyes blazing. "Just why do you think I should let 
you have all the credit, Mr. Bigshot? I could be a lot more help in there 
with you."

Robin snorted. "Yeah, right. Your approach isn't exactly what I'd call 
stealthy. Just stay here until I need you...*Babs*." He gave her a wicked 
grin, knowing there wasn't much she hated worse than being called 'Babs'.

She glared at him for a minute, then shrugged. "Watch yourself in 
there...*Richard*. Call me if you need me to come save your male chauvinist 
hide."

He grinned at her, not saying a word. As he walked away, he could almost feel 
her stick her tongue out at him.

***

Perfect setup. Both women had their backs turned, and Harley's nonstop 
blathering would cover any slight noise made by Robin's approach. It would be 
the easiest thing in the world to silently take out Harley from behind, then 
grab Ivy. He was already congratulating himself ahead of time for a job well 
done when he felt something slither around his ankle. He barely had time to 
look down before he was engulfed by one of Poison Ivy's plant sentries.

Robin's struggles alerted the two girls. They looked at each other with a 
smile.

"Well, lookee here," said Harley. "If it's not the Boy Wonder himself."

Poison Ivy studied the intruder with interest. "Why, he's no *boy* anymore, 
Harley." She dipped a finger into her concoction and rubbed some on her lips, 
then sauntered toward Robin, swinging her hips seductively. "I think he's man 
enough to be a perfect test subject for my new creation."

As she reached out to touch his cheek, Robin jerked his head away. *Great*, 
he thought. *This is exactly the sort of thing I'm always teasing Bruce 
about!*

"Don't be scared of me, sweetie," Ivy told him. "I'll be gentle."

Before she could kiss him, there was a loud rustling in the woods, and a 
small black object flew out of the darkness and connected solidly with the 
side of her head. She looked up furiously, and raised her right hand to fire 
an arrow from her wrist crossbow. Batgirl ducked out of the way just in time, 
but the arrow pinned her cape to the tree.

As she struggled to free herself, Harley grabbed one of the syringes her 
friend had been filling. "I'll take care of Robin Redbrat's little 
girlfriend," she volunteered.

Batgirl managed to tear her cape free just as Harley reached her. The two 
struggled for a moment with the syringe between them, but Batgirl's sheer 
size gave her an edge over the tiny Harley. As she shoved her against the 
tree, Harley dropped the syringe — which implanted itself in her foot. The 
two of them stared at each other for a moment, then Harley dropped heavily to 
the ground.

"Harley!" screamed Ivy. She ran to her friend's side, bending over her in 
concern.

Robin took advantage of the distraction. He managed to free his hand just 
enough to reach the knife in his utility belt, then cut his way free of the 
plant.

Ivy stood up and started after Batgirl menacingly. Batgirl backed away 
slowly, keeping a wary eye on the crossbow.

"All right, Plant Lady, leave her alone."

Robin's voice came from close by. Ivy looked around for him, but her gaze was 
caught by something else...the sight of the poor, innocent plant the boy had 
hacked to pieces in cold blood. She gave an angry cry and started toward the 
plant. Robin jumped down from an overhanging branch, blocking her path.

Poison Ivy looked from Robin on one side of her to Batgirl on the other and 
hesitated, unable to decide which to attack first.

Batgirl made the first move and broke the stalemate. She took a careful step 
toward Ivy, who jumped at her with enough momentum to carry them both to the 
ground.

"I *said* leave her alone," growled Robin. He grabbed Ivy's shoulder a little 
more roughly than was absolutely necessary and managed to pull her off 
Batgirl. Ivy pivoted and launched herself at him with the fury of a spitfire.

Batgirl threw herself into the fight, and the two crimefighters subdued their 
prey without too much exertion. Robin slapped his handcuffs on her wrists 
while Batgirl held on to her.

"You've made an enemy, little girl," snarled Poison Ivy. "I won't forget 
being brought down by a couple of kids."

***

A few hours later, Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon sat across from each other 
in an all-night burger joint, sharing a meal of chili dogs and french fries. 

"I called Arkham," Dick said between bites. "Harley's still immobilized, but 
they said the effects of the serum should start to wear off soon. Right now 
she's promising to kick the Joker's face in for laughing at her."

Barbara laughed. "Catwoman's going to love that story. She and Harley Quinn 
aren't exactly the greatest of friends."

"No, they're not," agreed Dick. "That reminds me, I called Bruce, told him 
what happened — or as much of it as I could on an unsecured line."

"Is he mad about the car?" asked Barbara anxiously.

Dick considered. "Well, I wouldn't exactly say he's *thrilled* about it, but 
he actually had the decency to be more concerned about whether we were all 
right."

"Oh." Barbara was confused. "Is that unusual?"

He shrugged. "For Bruce, no. For Batman — sometimes. He puts the job first a 
lot of the time. You get used to it."

Barbara bit her lip. "I guess," she said doubtfully. "Dick? You won't get 
like that, will you? I mean, you're too nice a guy to...." She let her voice 
trail off.

Dick smiled at the worried little frown on her face. "Don't worry about me, 
Babs," he teased.

She kicked him under the table. "Don't call me Babs!" she scolded. "You know 
I hate that."

He just grinned at her.

***

It was just starting to get light when he took her home. He walked her to the 
porch and they stood talking for a little while.

"We make a pretty good team, I think," said Barbara smugly.

"We always have," Dick reminded her.

"Yeah."

Conversation trailed off and they stood just looking at one another. Dick 
reached out to touch Barbara's face, and she placed her hand over his. 
Finally he moved forward and kissed her, gently, experimentally.

Then he moved away and looked at her silently. Robin and Batgirl had kissed 
once or twice, but it was...different somehow.

"This is definitely weird," he said finally.

"Definitely," agreed Barbara.

They were both thinking of all the times they'd complained about people 
trying to pair them off over the years, about the spark of very mutual 
attraction when their alter-egos met for the first time — and about how 
screwed up the status quo had become over the last few hours. The two of them 
had been the best of buddies since they were ten years old, and the thought 
of even potentially becoming anything else was going to take some getting 
used to. Especially since they both had a very uncomfortable suspicion that 
maybe deep down they really *had* recognised each other.

***

Barbara let herself in quietly through the front door. She felt something 
small and furry wind itself around her ankles and reached down to pick up her 
cat. "Hello, Timmy," she greeted him softly. Timothy purred in her ear.

"Barbara? Is that you?" a low voice called.

She jumped. For the first time she noticed there was a light in the kitchen, 
so she started toward it, still carrying the cat.

"Sarah, you're up early," she greeted her stepmother. "Working the early 
shift again?"

"You're up late," answered Sarah. "You weren't here when your father and I 
got home."

She sounded slightly concerned but she didn't offer to pry, and Barbara 
appreciated that. "Well, you know, school starts in a few weeks, so I better 
take advantage of freedom while I can. I had a late date," she announced 
casually.

Sarah gave her an odd look. "Anyone I know?" she asked, offering Barbara 
coffee.

Barbara waved away the cup. "No, thanks. Um, yeah, it was Dick Grayson 
actually. We just had some chili dogs and talked. Nothing special." Her voice 
was so overly casual that Sarah couldn't help raising an eyebrow.

"Dick Grayson, hmm? I thought you two were just lifelong friends." 

"Well, let's just say we found out we've got more in common than we thought," 
Barbara answered mysteriously.

She told her stepmother good night and swept out of the room toward the 
stairs. There were some things she urgently needed to talk over with her 
teddy bear, Woobie.

-The End-