The Clocktower Arsenal
By Chicago (chicago_haven@yahoo.com)

***
 
	"Hey, kids, we're home!" 
	"Mommy! Daddy!" 
	"Bert, slow down--" 
	"Tim, he okay. Hi Jack, Dana." 
	Jack Drake had long ago ceased wondering why Tim's 
secretary/friend/whatever was always helping Tim babysit. He categorized 
it as the same level of mystery as why Bruce Wayne loaned Tim his valet 
when Tim was at Brentwood. Jack just grunted a greeting to the young 
woman as he accepted a bear hug from his three year old son. "Hey, big 
boy! You didn't give your brother too much trouble, did you?" 
	Bert giggled and squirmed out of Jack's grasp to hug Dana. 
	"He never gives me trouble, Dad," Tim was saying. "He's a good 
kid." 
	"Kiss Gator, Mommy!" Bert was demanding. 
	Cassandra laughed. "Son of Krypton get too many kisses, Bert." 
	"You can say that again," Jack muttered. 
	"How was your trip?" Tim asked, accepting luggage from the limo 
driver and preparing to take it upstairs. 
	"Well, the business was a mixed success, but I'd say Dana and I 
managed to make good on our free time." 
	"Oh, Jack," Dana protested, laughing. "Tim, that's all going to 
be laundry anyway. It can stay downstairs. You kids have a good week?" 
	"Played Chutes and Ladders. Tim always lose," Cassandra 
announced. 
	"Ladders!" Bert cried, pulling free of Dana and dashing from the 
room. 
	"Bert!" Tim called after him. He smiled apologetically. "Maybe we 
should go play with him--" 
	"Alfred here," Cassandra interrupted, looking out the still open 
front door. 
	Bert, now carrying the Chutes and Ladders board, looked 
devastated. 
	"Batgirl leaving?" 
	Jack groaned. "You kids haven't been encouraging that, have you?" 
	Tim smiled weakly. "Uh, no, Dad. It's just--you know--Bert." 
	"Jack, all kids think they're superheroes," Dana pointed out. 
	"Tim never did," Jack groused. "So, Cassandra, you're heading 
out?" 
	Cassandra nodded. "Just need backpack." 
	"I get it!" Bert yelled, again tearing from the foyer in the 
direction of the living room. Tim made a fruitless grab for the boy and 
sighed. 
	"Let him get it, Tim," Dana suggested. "And Jack? Why don't we 
give these two a moment to say good-bye." 
	Jack blinked. "Oh. Yeah. Thanks for sitting, kids," his voice 
trailed as he followed his wife's pull to the kitchen. 
	Cassandra watched the Drakes leave in puzzlement. "Why we be 
alone to say good-bye?" 
	Tim shook his head. "Dana's just being weird. You heading into 
Gotham?" 
	"Must shop.  Bruce birthday." 
	"Oh, man!  I knew I was forgetting something!" 
	"No worry, Bruce not notice." 
	Tim snorted. "Only because he'll pretend to have forgotten it.  
Listen, you think you could swing by the office. I left--what?"
	Cassandra was staring at Tim. "Office on MONDAY.  Today 
SATURDAY." 
	For a split second, Tim thought about arguing with her. Then he 
sighed. "Never mind." 
	"I got it, Cassandra!" came Bert's winded voice, and Cassandra 
giggled as he dragged her backpack across the floor. He paused to catch 
his breath. "You really go?" he asked. 
	"Yep. Alfred waiting." 
	"I miss you," Bert pouted. 
	Cassandra knelt to hug the boy. "Miss you, too. Wayne Manor 
lonely. No Bert." 
	"There's always Bruce," Tim observed dryly. 
	"Bruce no have Gator." 
	Bert suddenly brightened. "Son of Krypton keep you safe!" 
	"Superman keep everyone safe," Cassandra agreed solemnly. She 
picked her back pack up from the floor. "Okay. Bye." 
	As Cassandra dashed out to the car, Tim lifted Bert and joined him 
in waving good-bye to the departing Bentley. "Well, kid," he said when 
the car disappeared around the bend, "you wanna beat me at Chutes and 
Ladders again?" 

 
	Cassandra bounced happily into the back seat of the Bentley. "Hi, 
Alfred!" 
	"Good afternoon, Miss Cassandra. Have you decided where you 
wish to go shopping?" 
	Cassandra thought for a second. "Dinah back?" she asked. 
	A faint smile crossed Alfred's features. "Yes, Miss Dinah has 
returned to the Manor for the weekend." 
	"They need picnic," Cassandra said firmly. "I no need driver in 
Gotham." 
	"You would like me to drop you off somewhere?" Alfred 
translated. 
	"I shop, then Clocktower. Come home with Robin," she decided. 
	"Very good, Miss Cassandra." 

 
	Cassandra did not really need a full afternoon in Gotham to find 
the perfect gift for Bruce Wayne. She really didn't even need 15 minutes. 
Once Tim had explained to her that it was  *Bruce* -- not Batman--who 
had birthdays, deciding what to get him had been simple. After all, how 
many times had she heard Barbara say that Bruce needed to get Clue? Ten 
minutes in OAF Weiss and her shopping was done--including gift wrap. 
The real reason she'd wanted to stay in Gotham was because Dinah was 
back. That meant Dinah would want the tape of the past week of  *The 
Brave and the Bold*, and Cassandra wasn't done watching it yet. In fact, 
because of babysitting Bert, she hadn't seen an episode since Tuesday, and 
she was dying to know if Dorian had realized that Chrysanthemum was 
really his half sister and if Amber had escaped the evil saw mill magnate, 
J. Arthur Price. All in all, Cassandra was glad that Babs had taught her to 
program the VCR in the Clocktower. 
	Cassandra stopped on the way to the Clocktower to buy some 
chips and salsa and a pint of Cherry Garcia ice cream. She wasn't sure 
which she actually wanted, but Nightwing would make quick work of 
whatever she didn't eat next time he was in Gotham. She pretended not to 
realize that he was her "mysterious fridge monster," blaming Tim instead. 
She just liked the way Tim's ears colored whenever she brought it up, not 
wanting to take the rap but unwilling to rat out Dick. 
	The doorman of the Clocktower smiled and tipped his hat to 
Cassandra as she entered. No one ever stopped her anymore when she 
visited the building, even though she only came through the front entrance 
a couple of times a month. Curious, she had once snuck behind the 
security desk and found her photo taped next to the phone with an old, 
curling post-it note reading "LIVES HERE REALLY!"  It had fondly 
reminded her of the guard whose nose she had accidentally broken right 
after No Man's Land. 
	She returned the doorman's smile and headed for the elevator to the 
top floor. She liked the elevator. It played Bruce Wayne music. 
	Once upstairs, she pulled out her pass key and pressed it to the 
lock pad. She waited for the six distinctive lock clicks, then turned the 
door handle. However, she hesitated in the apartment entrance. Something 
was not quite right. She moved onto the balls of her feet, ready for action, 
and scanned the entrance area. Nothing out of the ordinary there.  She 
closed the front door behind her and proceeded cautiously to the living 
room. 
	There! A uniform puddled on the floor, trailing toward the 
bedroom. Classic Dick Grayson, except--Cassandra frowned--wrong color 
uniform. Really wrong color. Not even remotely in the line of acceptable 
Bat color schemes. Earth tones. The closest the Batclan got to earth tones 
was concrete grey. So this would have to be--she smiled.  Arsenal.  More 
relaxed, she headed for the kitchen to stash the ice cream in the freezer. As 
always, the mysterious fridge monster had left her groceries half-depleted, 
although he  *had* restocked the bottled water. 
	For that, maybe she'd leave him the ice cream. 
	She glanced at the kitchen clock. 1:30. Too late for sleeping. 
	Time to wake up Roy Harper. She thought for a minute. Cissie said 
Lian always woke Roy up by jumping on his stomach. She paused to 
consider. She *did* want to watch  *The Brave and the Bold*, and she 
didn't want to creep around being quiet. She'd just have to jump on his 
stomach. 
	She crossed back to the bedroom and softly opened the door. The 
blackout curtains dimmed the midday light to near-night, but she could 
dimly make out the archer sleeping on his back under a light sheet. He 
didn't stir as she entered the room, and she could hear the quiet evenness 
of his breathing. Sound asleep--but not for long. With graceful ease, she 
leapt on the bed, landing so that her knees fell to either side of his 
muscled abdomen. 
	Cassandra Cain had one carefully guarded weakness in her ability 
to anticipate the actions of others. Some moves were instinctive, made 
without conscious thought, and so were not broadcast. She had studied 
these instinctive reactions, learning the circumstances in which they might 
occur. However, there were a few situations that she did not anticipate. 
	She certainly did not expect the strong hands that grabbed her 
thighs, pulling her down and over onto the bed so she was nose to nose 
with a smiling Roy Harper. Nor did she expect his husky tones: "Are you a 
dream, or will you still be here when I open my eyes?" 
	Cassandra suppressed a giggle. 
	"You *feel* real," Roy murmured, letting one hand travel to her 
waist. He nuzzled her hair where it lay on the pillow for a moment, then 
lifted his face toward hers and... 
	He opened his eyes. 
	Cassandra managed not to laugh out loud as Roy's eyes widened in 
shock. "Oh no," he groaned, rolling away from her onto his back. "Please 
tell me your boss doesn't have this place wired." 
	Cassandra stayed where she was. "You wake up." 
	"You'd think Dick would warn a guy. Cassie, what--?" 
	"My Clocktower. Why *you* here?" 
	Roy sighed and sat up, scrubbing his face with his hands. "We 
were doing Titans stuff until 4 a.m. Dick said I could crash here rather 
than drive back to New York. What time is it?" 
	"1:30. Why you no pajamas?" 
	Roy started, flushing bright red and gathering the fallen sheet 
tightly around his waist. "I didn't have any with me." 
	"Could borrow Dick's. He no mind." 
	"They wouldn't--wait, why are we having this discussion?" 
	"You right," Cassandra decided, rising from the bed with an 
appraising look. "Dick clothes too small. Bruce jeans in closet. I get 
lunch." 
	Roy Harper stared after Cassandra for a long moment, her final 
words taking some time to register. "Batman has jeans?" 

 
	Tim smiled fondly at Bert's valiant efforts to look wakeful. The 
boy was rubbing his eyes with toddler fists between turns at Chutes and 
Ladders. When his game piece landed him at the top of a chute, though, 
sending him down three whole rows, the tired crankiness surfaced. 
	Jack frowned over his newpaper at Bert's sudden outburst of tears. 
	"Bert," he said in exasperation. 
	"It's okay, Dad, I've got him. Ready for a nap, Bertie-boy?" 
	"Don' wan' nap!" Bert protested. 
	"Okay," Tim agreed good-naturedly. "We'll just go read stories to 
the Gator." 
	"Don' wan' stories!" 
	"Oh, but I'm sure the Gator does, right, Ga--" Tim hesitated. 
	Where was the Gator? He'd just assumed it was somewhere near 
Bert, but he suddenly realized he couldn't see it - and he hadn't seen it for a 
while. 
	'Don't panic,' he thought. 'It's gotta be here somewhere.' 
	Bert's howls were increasing in intensity, drawing Dana from her 
workout in another room. She dabbed at her face with a small towel that 
hung over her shoulders. "Sounds like someone needs a nap," she  
commented. 
	"Mommy!" Bert cried, grabbing Dana's legs around the knees and 
sobbing. 
	Dana's face softened, and she reached down to scoop up her son. 
He promptly buried his tear-streaked face in her shoulder. "It's okay, 
baby," she murmured, gently swaying and rubbing Bert's back. "We'll just 
get--" 
	Dana stopped, catching Tim's panicked look and headshake. "We'll 
just get upstairs and get some sleep," she amended, carrying Bert out of 
the room. 
	As soon as Bert was gone, Tim began a frantic search. Under a 
sofa? In the magazine rack? 
	"What are you looking for, Tim?" Jack finally asked from behind 
his newspaper. 
	"I can't find Bert's Gator. Have you seen it?" 
	Jack snorted. "Bert needs to learn to do without that damned 
thing. But no, I haven't seen it - not since we first got home." 
	Tim thought. Bert had the Gator then, but--Tim hadn't seen the 
toy since Cass left. He glanced at the clock. 2:30. Cass would be done 
shopping by now. He'd just call the Manor and ask if she remembered 
seeing it... 

 
	"You idiot--she's your *sister*!" Roy yelled at the TV screen 
around a mouthful of pizza. 
	"He not know," Cassandra pointed out rationally. 
	"But--" he hesitated.  "You know I normally only watch this when 
Cissie has it on, right? I mean, I don't even know what time it comes on, 
but--" 
	"It okay, Roy. She told me you *Brave and Bold* junkie." 
	Roy groaned. 

 
	The Manor phone rang for a third time. Alfred must have his hands 
full or something, Tim thought. 
	Another ring, then--"Wayne Manor." 
	Tim froze. Female voice. Not Cassie. Who--? 
	"Hello? Hellooooo?" 
	Tim found his voice. "Uh, hi, um--" 
	"Tim?" 
	"DINAH?! What--I mean--" 
	Her throaty chuckle interrupted him. "I was just stopping on my 
way home to pick up *The Brave and the Bold.*  Cass was taping it for 
me." 
	Oh. That made sense. But--"Why are you answering the phone?" 
	"Oh, Alfred and Bruce are doing something with the car and Cass 
is at the Clocktower--" 
	"The Clocktower? What is she doing there?" 
	"I don't know, but that's where she's got my tape! I thought she 
was coming back with Alfred so I waited around and now--" 
	"You're stuck at the Manor until the cab comes," Tim finished for 
her. "That bites." 
	"It's not so bad. I got lunch out of the deal. So you need me to 
get Bruce?" 
	"Oh, no. No--I needed to talk to Cass, actually." 
	"All right, then. I'll talk to you later." 
	"Sure thing, Dinah. Bye." 
	Tim hung up the phone in frustration. Where was the phone 
number for the Clocktower? 

 
	"You want bowls or can I just bring two spoons?" Roy called from 
the kitchen. 
	"Spoons," Cassandra replied, hitting pause as the commercial 
break ended. 
	Roy dashed out from the kitchen and hopped over the back of the 
couch. "WOO HOO!" he cried as he bounced back to his spot beside 
Cassandra. He handed her a spoon and peeled the lid off the ice cream. 
"Start it up, Batgirl." 
	Cassandra tapped "play" on the remote and resettled herself. 
Cissie was right--Roy was funny. He was funnier when Bruce spooked 
him. 
	He was cute when he was flustered. Right now, though, he was just 
regular funny as he scooped out a giant spoonful of ice cream and wrestled 
into his mouth with clear delight. 
	Amused, Cassandra aimed for an equally large spoonful. "Dick be 
mad we no leave any." 
	Roy swallowed his mouthful and snorted. "Short Pants can get his 
own ice cream. Hey," he added, gesturing toward the TV, "who'd've 
guessed Courtland would grow a set." 
	"He been getting more nasty since Delaney dump him for Craig. 
Why you call Dick 'Short Pants'?" 
	Roy, his mouth again full, almost choked as he fought to swallow. 
	Cassandra patted him helpfully on the back as he made a gasp for 
air. 
	"Raise hands over head," she instructed. 
	Roy ignored her and reached for his Soder, taking a long draught 
and finally turning to stare at her. "You can't be serious. I mean, granted, 
you weren't around in those days, but you've been doing the Bat 
thing for years. Surely--" 
	"Batman not call Dick 'Short Pants.'" 
	Roy laughed. "No, he really wouldn't. I can't even imagine what 
Dick would do--" 
	He must be able to imagine, Cassandra thought, because he 
suddenly was overcome with laughter. She waited patiently. 
	"So why?" she asked again. 
	"Look, we kinda grew up together, you know? And--you've seen 
the costume. You had to have--Dick told me he keeps it on display in that 
damned cave. The pants--they're--" 
	"Tim no call Dick 'Short Pants.'" 
	"Tim takes Robin too seriously to joke about that. Besides--" 
	"Babs call Dick 'Short Pants,' but they have sex." 
	Now Roy burst into laughter again. "Oh, that's good. Wonder if 
she ever has him --*ahem.* I mean--" Laughter took him again as 
Cassandra watched him curiously. "'Cuz they have sex," Roy finally 
breathed, reaching for more ice cream. "Oh, that's a good one." 
	Cassandra thought for a moment. Maybe--. She'd just have to ask, 
she decided. "You and Dick have sex, too?" she asked. 
	Now Roy seriously did choke on his ice cream, spewing part of his 
mouthful down the front of his shirt. "Wha--wait--" he gasped as 
Cassandra handed him a tissue from the box on the coffee table. He had 
not yet recaptured his composure enough to speak when the phone rang. 
	Roy and Cassandra stared at each other for a moment, he flustered 
and she expectant, as the phone rang between them. Then both got a 
*look* in their eye. A smile began on Roy's face as he dove for the 
marginally nearer to him handset. He won. His eyes gloating in triumph at 
Cassandra, he hit the "Talk" button. "Are you beautiful?" he asked 
huskily. 
	Cassandra rolled her eyes. Cissie was right about that, too. Then 
her ears perked up as Roy began to talk again. 
	"Oh, hi, Tim! How's it going? Yeah, she's here all right--keeping 
me well entertained. You wanna talk to her?" 
	A huge grin covered Roy's face as he held the phone out for 
Cassandra. "It's for you," he said, reaching his other hand to hit pause on 
the remote for the VCR. 
	Cassandra stuck her tongue out at him as she accepted the phone. 
	"Hi Tim. I not go to office... You LOST Son of Krypton! Tim!" 
	Roy stared at Cassandra in puzzlement. She ignored him. 
	"Why *I* have him? I not pawn of Jack. ... He there when--oh, 
wait. Hold on. Talk to Roy." 
	Cassandra thrust the phone back at Roy and dashed out toward the 
entrance. Roy shrugged. "Hey, Tim, you need to explain to Cass about 
Short Pants. ... Well--" 
	"GOT IT!" came Cass's yell from the hall. She careened back into 
the room holding--Roy stared--a stuffed Gator? 
	"Cass, what the--" 
	"Gimme phone," she demanded, prying the handset from Roy's 
fingers.  "Tim. He in my backpack. Bert say he keep me safe. ... Of course 
Batman need Son of Krypton! I not say keep him. ... Oh. ..." Cassandra 
giggled. 
	"Oh, we talk sex. Roy good. ... " 
	Roy pressed his lips together tightly to keep from exploding with 
laughter. Cassandra looked perplexed. "... You think so?" she asked.  
"Yeah, Bert need Gator. ... Okay, bye." 
	She hung up the phone. "Tim coming," she said. 
	Roy let out his laughter. "God, Cass, you are too much. Poor Tim!" 
	"Tim fine," Cassandra said firmly. "Many responsibilities." 
	Roy sobered, nodding. He gestured toward the Gator. "Kid 
brother's toy?" 
	Cassandra looked at the Gator and then held it up over her head. 
	"SON OF KRYPTON!" she yelled, flying the toy over her head as 
she leapt onto the couch and dove toward Roy, pushing the Gator's snout 
into his chest and making roarlike eating noises. "GATOR EAT ROY!" 
	Roy laughed and took the Gator from her. "It's cute," he said. 
	"Son of Krypton not cute!" Cassandra pouted. 
	"It is cute, Cass. Lian had a little bear kinda like this when she 
was little." 
	"Hey, where Lian? Why you not call home?" Cassandra asked. 
	Roy's expression hardened a little as he kept his face toward the 
Gator, not looking at Cassandra. "Lian's out with Cissie," he said in a 
casual tone. "They are doing girl stuff this weekend--no boys allowed." 
	"That right! I want to go, but got patrol." 
	Roy snorted, still staring at the Gator. "Batkids. You need to 
get out of Gotham more, Cass. Away from the dark shadow." 
	"I get away. Visit Blüdhaven. Eat Babs' lasagna." 
	Roy's smile was distant. "Yeah, Babs makes good lasagna." 
	Cassandra cocked her head. "You sad?" 
	Roy sighed. "Nah. Just--wistful." 
	"Wistful," Cassandra rolled the word around in her mouth. "What 
that mean?" 
	Roy glanced at her. "It just--it's like when you're--well, sad," he 
finished lamely. 
	"Wistful," Cassandra said again. "I like word. Wistful for Lian?" 
	"No. Yeah. Sure. Just--" He stopped, focusing his attention on the 
Gator he still held. He turned it restlessly in his hands, contemplating it's 
fixed grin from various angles, not really seeing it. 
	Cassandra watched him for a long moment, then reached out to 
touch the Gator and effectively still Roy's hands. They sat that way for 
another moment, then both started when the paused VCR suddenly kicked 
back into action, mysteriously opting to start playing again instead of just 
turning off. 
	Roy chuckled ruefully. "Okay, maybe I'm a little sad." 
	Cassandra smiled. "It okay, Roy. Everyone grow up sometime. 
Even you." 
	"Hey!" he protested, his winning smile back, although he 
maintained his grip on the Gator. "I resemble that remark!" 
	Cassandra's smile broadened. "That not what Cissie say." 
	"Argh! Undermined by my own wench!" Roy groaned. 
	"I tell Cissie you say that," Cassandra threatened. 
	"Go ahead," Roy challenged, his face getting an oddly childish 
look of determination. 
	Cassandra laughed and looked down at where Son of Krypton still 
rested in Roy's hands. "You need hug, Roy?" she asked. 
	Now Roy really did start. "Bats hug?" he joked feebly. 
	"That mean yes," Cassandra announced, giving Roy a tight 
squeeze. 
	*SLAM* "Roy, Cass, I'm here!" Tim's voice rang through the 
apartment. 
	Cassandra pulled away from Roy slightly with an odd smirk on her 
face. Roy looked into her face, matching her smirk, but with real gratitude 
in his eye. In the background, Chrysanthemum and began passionately 
kissing Dorian's bare chest just as Tim rounded the corner into the living 
room... 

 
	"Cass, come ON," Tim urged impatiently. He stood in the living 
room doorway with her back pack over his shoulder, watching as she 
carefully made and affixed a label to the tape she had retrieved from the 
VCR. 
	Roy, now lounging on the couch and watching archery on ESPN-2, 
laughed. "I swear, Tim, I used to think Dick was uptight--" 
	"My kid brother needs his Gator," Tim defended himself. 
	"And Dinah need tape," Cassandra pointed out, looking around for 
the box the cassette had come in. 
	"Dinah's probably on her way over here right--oh man! I shoulda 
just--" 
	"Why Dinah come here?" Cassandra asked. 
	"She stopped by the Manor -" 
	"Dinah's at the *Manor*?" Roy interrupted, turning down the TV. 
	"She was trying to pick up the tape. Except SOMEONE didn't 
come home with Alfred, and you know how it is to get a cab out there. If 
I'd've been thinking, I would have picked her up when I--" 
	"Maybe she still there." 
	"Huh? You think?" 
	"Maybe. You call." 
	"Good idea," Tim decided, reaching for the phone. He tried not to 
notice the look that passed between Roy and Cassandra behind his back. 
He hit 2 on the speed dial and waited. Then: "Hi, Alfred. It's Tim. ... Oh, 
everything's fine. Listen, this may sound like a crazy question, but--is 
Dinah still there? ... She is? ... Okay, I'm at the Clocktower right now 
... Bert put his Gator in Cass's backpack ... I dunno. He's a funny kid 
sometimes. ... Anyway, I'm going to bring Cass back with me now, so do 
you think Dinah would mind waiting? ... I'll tell Cass to bring the tape 
then ... oh, you know, I'd like to, but the family thing ... I know, 
Alfred. Thanks. ... I will. Bye." 
	"You ready now, Tim?" Cassandra demanded as Tim hung up. 
Now she stood in the doorway, the tape and a flat, giftwrapped box under 
her arm. 
	"Hey--" Tim protested as Roy once again began to laugh. 
	"Cass, you rule! How come we haven't done this sooner?" 
	"You no in my bed before," Cassandra replied. 
	Roy's howl of laughter followed them as Tim quickly and 
wordlessly led them from the apartment and to the parking garage. Tim 
remained silent as he opened his minivan and threw Cassandra's back pack 
in the back. He said nothing as he fastened his seatbelt and waited for 
Cassandra to do the same. He only nodded to the security guard as the 
minivan was allowed out of the garage and merged into the afternoon 
Gotham traffic. 
	Cassandra watched with interest as Tim navigated the thickening 
open of rush hour. She had never seen him make so many lane changes. 
She waited until they hit the on ramp to the expressway to break the 
silence. 
	Then she said, "Roy funny." 
	Tim Drake, the World's Most Cautious Driver, pressed down on 
the accelerator. Cassandra Cain, the World's Greatest Speed Freak, broke 
into a huge grin. She rolled down her window, letting the warm air buffet 
her face and tangle her hair. In the wake behind the speeding van, her 
words were clear. "This is FUN!" 
 
-fin-