Disclaimers and Thanks: "Commuting is Suck" is set in Smitty's Potatoverse, roughly 3 years before the arrival of Spud in the Grayson home. Much thanks to Smitty for letting me play here - and for those who are wondering, this does include the incident which Dinah mentions to Tim in "The Story of Dinah and Bruce." The characters almost all belong to DC Comics and are borrowed her without permission, for fun and not for profit. Thanks to Smitty for being the sounding board, and to Phoenix, whose lousy commute was the inspiration for this story. Also thanks to all the Spudbuds for reading and putting up with odd random bits of story. *** Commuting is Suck By Chicago (chicago_haven@yahoo.com) *** "Bruce, I know that you have an eye for these things that I can't quite explain, but I'm telling you, the situation in Govalia has really destabilized beyond a level of acceptable risk. EVERYONE is getting out, trying to cut their losses." Bruce smiled mildly at his anxious CEO. "Lucius, you know the numbers better than I do. Have our Govalian holdings really cost us that much in the last year?" Lucius paused. "Since we lost that plant in the Tra'alor bombing last September? Well, the trade embargoes are hurting the bottom line, and -" "Mr. Wayne!" The office door burst open, revealing a breathless Maggie. "Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Fox, but you really need to turn on GNN!" Bruce pulled a remote from one of the drawers in his expansive desk and aimed the device at a mahogany armoire. "Thanks, Maggie," he dismissed his secretary. Across the room, the armoire doors opened smoothly, revealing a giant television screen. "...surprising developments in Govalia affect the whole dynamic of central Asia. A special meeting of the UN security council has been called to help the new government establish a peace keeping force for the transition, but all indications are that the conflict here has been resolved..." Bruce hit mute and smiled as Lucius looked at him incredulously. "How do you do it?" Bruce shrugged, his smile unwavering. "Is our meeting done now, Lucius? I've got plans for this evening." Lucius sighed heavily and stood. "Yes, Bruce, we're done. What's her name tonight? Mindy? Ami with an i? No, don't tell me. Have a good night. And don't get caught in that storm." "Storm?" Lucius gestured toward the muted television, now showing the swirling multicolored image of a weather system over the Atlantic. "Nor'easter - freezing rain and sleet. It's supposed to really hit in the next hour or two." Bruce stared at the image for a moment. "Maybe we should send personnel home early?" "Already done, Bruce. Just a skeleton staff at this point. I was going to send them home, too." "Yes, do that, Lucius. And go home yourself. We can talk more about Govalia later." Lucius just shook his head. "You're the boss. Good night, Bruce." "Good night, Lucius." Bruce waited a few minutes after Lucius' departure, then made a final check of his email before heading for the parking garage. As expected, there was one forward from Cousin Fred. Ignoring the other "high priority" items in his inbox, knowing Maggie would go through them and answer them all anyway, he opened only this message. The smile that had not entirely faded since he turned on the news about Govalia broadened once again. Those election jokes sure were funny, he reflected, reaching for his phone. Alfred, as always, answered on the second ring. "Wayne Manor." "Two for dinner tonight, Alfred," he said. "Very good, Master Bruce. And what time should I expect you?" Bruce glanced again at the email from Cousin Fred. "About 8," he decided. Five minutes later, Bruce Wayne was in the elevator, heading for his car and wondering if it would be too forward to send a car to the international terminal of Gotham Airport. ************************************** "- *crackle* - All units north please respond to multivehicle collision on Southbound 61 by Route 91 bypass -" Amy Rohrbach glanced at her partner as she reached to activate the siren. "That's us, partner," she said unnecessarily as Dick picked up the radio. "Unit 452 currently westbound on Airport Road responding." He braced himself against the dash as Amy cut through the turn around in the median, swinging a U turn into the eastbound lane. The squad car fishtailed ominously but remained under control. Dick shot Amy a look. "Roger unit 452. What's your ETA?" "It's awful slick out here dispatch - we're looking at - WHOA!" Amy cranked furiously at the steering wheel as a tractor trailer, cut off by a blue hatchback, suddenly jackknifed out of control. As Amy steered the police cruiser into the grassy median and out of harm's way, the semi tipped, screaming sideways down the road shooting sparks. Desperate and futile break squeals filled the air as car after car careened into and off one another on the icy road. Dick closed his eyes as a wildly spinning SUV crashed down onto the median, apparently heading straight for him and his partner. "UNIT 452 RESPOND!" the dispatcher demanded. There was a soft crunch as the SUV came to rest against the driver's side fender of the squad car. Dick and Amy stared at each other numbly for a second. "UNIT 452!" Amy plucked the radio from Dick's fingers. "Get out there, partner. Mr. Chevy Tahoe here is blocking my exit." As Dick obeyed, she depressed the call switch. "This is unit 452. We've got a jackknifed semi, both lanes blocked on Airport Road Eastbound. Multivehicle collision. Request backup." "Roger that, unit 452... All units..." Amy hung up the radio with a sigh and crawled over her partner's vacated seat to the passenger side door. It was going to be one of those nights. *************************************************** With a final key stroke, Tim emailed his econ paper to Prof. Smith with a receipt notification flag. Then he shut down his lap top and packed it away into its carry case. He was ready to go. Time for spring break at Wayne Enterprises. Both Wayne Enterprises, he thought with a smile, amused at his own pun. "Yo, Jerry!" he yelled as he headed out the front door. "I'll be back a week from Sunday. Don't forget to water my plant." "I know, I know. Careful with the driving. The traffic's already bad." "Yeah, I will be," Tim acknowledged, shivering as heavy drops of icy rain struck his neck. Maybe he should wait until morning, he thought. He shook the thought off. It'd be a slow drive, but he'd be flying in Gotham City tonight. ************************************************** "Oracle, you read me?" "Yeah, Dinah. What's up? Where are you?" "I'm in the same airplane I was in an hour ago." Babs chuckled. "I figured that. I was just wondering if you were still freaking out your seat mate by talking to yourself." "Nah, I'm in the bathroom." "Ew. Too much information." "I'm not USING it. I just-" "You're bored." "Yeah. And I heard something about the weather in Gotham?" "Ice storm coming in. Already hitting, actually. Dick is stuck out by the 'Haven Airport dealing with a major accident." "He okay?" "He's cold and wet and doing triage by the side of the road, but he's fine." "Sounds like my life." "Yeah, I know. Never a dull moment." "Listen, Babs, are they going to be able to land us in Gotham?" "Hold on a sec." Babs pulled up a screen of information from the air traffic control tower at Gotham International Airport and studied it for a minute. "It's touch and go. They've closed a few runways and have started canceling flights, but you might get a window. If not they'll probably route you to Metropolis and you can catch a train home." "Metropolis!" "Yeah, the storm's not hitting them yet. Shouldn't be-" "I don't want to fly into Metropolis." Babs blinked. "You fly into Metropolis all the - OH! Does this have anything to do with who you were planning on not sleeping with tonight?" she teased. "I'm not sleeping with Bruce," Dinah reacted automatically. "Listen, if we do get rerouted-" "I'll get you the quickest train connection I can find," Babs promised, grinning. "And I'll let Bruce know." "Bruce? Bruce who?" Babs chuckled. "Whatever, Dinah. Oracle out." END PART 1 Commuting is Suck (2/8) by Chicago Dick started at the front of the pile up, leaving his partner to start from the back after checking on the occupants of the Tahoe. Thus far, he had discovered no fatalities - a small miracle considering the scope of the accident. Over 20 cars, maybe over 30. Dick was too busy to count. A doctor from a vehicle just in front of the accident site had pulled over and run back to help. Dick had left him in charge of the driver of the semi, the most seriously injured victim so far. Somehow, even unrecognizably crushed compacts were disgorging shaken but relatively unhurt occupants. Pausing for a moment, Dick heard the sound of a baby crying and headed for it. The smallish minivan was pushed into the bottom of the flipped semi trailer, its driver's side completely inaccessible. Propped against the passenger side fender, a Taurus rested on it's side. A young man's head and shoulders were poking out the passenger side window of the Ford, and he waved to Dick. "Dude - there's a lady in the van who don't look so good." "You okay, sir?" Dick asked. "I'm fine, man. Weird to be standing out the window, but I'm fine. You gotta help the lady!" Dick checked quickly to confirm the young man's story - he was in fact standing through his car and appeared a bit bruised, but otherwise fine. Satisfied that he wasn't leaving a victim untended, Dick pulled open the back passenger door of the van. There were two children strapped securely in the back - the squalling toddler and a little girl who was singing what sounded like a lullaby. She looked up brightly as Dick pulled open the door. "Hi, Mr. Officer. You gonna help us?" Dick gave his most reassuring smile. "As best I can. Are you okay?" "Yeah, Brandon's just scared. My mommy's hurt though." Dick slipped into the minivan, quickly looking over both Brandon and his sister. "What's your name?" he asked the girl. "I'm Penny. That's short for Penelope Ann." "Well, Penny, my name's Dick, and I'm going to just take a look at how your mommy's doing here. You think you can calm Brandon down?" "I can try." "Good girl." Dick leaned forward to the otherwise inaccesible driver's seat. The mother was unconscious, although a now deflated air bag had probably spared her more serious injury. Dick reached out and found her pulse - strong and steady. "What's your mommy's name, Penny?" "Rosalie," Penny reported. "Is she okay?" "It looks like she cut her head a little bit" - probably something that had been sitting loose on the dashboard, Dick reflected - "but I think she's okay. Rosalie? Rosalie?" A low moan came from the woman as Dick chafed her wrist. Suddenly her eyelids fluttered open. "Wha- my kids!" she gasped. "They're right here, Rosalie. They're fine." As Dick spoke, though, he heard the tell tale sounds of retching from behind him. He started to pull back, but not before an acrid smell filled the minivan and a warm liquid dripped down the collar of his jacket. "Brandon?" he asked, ignoring the unpleasant sensation down his shirt as he reached to the little boy. "It's okay, Officer," Penny reassured him. "Brandon always pukes when he cries too much." Dick smiled weakly. "Oh. Penny, I've got to go help some other people, but there will be some other officers here soon to get you out, okay?" "Okay." "Rosalie-" Dick pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it into her hand. "Put this to your head to stop the bleeding. Are you hurt anywhere else?" "I don't - I don't think so." "You can wiggle your toes?" "Ye - yes." "Good. The paramedics will be here very soon, I promise, and they'll get you out of here." "Thank you, Officer." Dick gave her a quick smile, then slipped out of the van with a wink for Penny. "Hold down the fort for me, Penny!" he ordered. She giggled. "Yes, sir!" As soon as he was clear of the van, though, Dick's smile faded. He was wet and getting wetter. He was cold. He smelled of vomit. There were still a lot of cars to check. And as of yet, they had no back up. He shrugged his jacket more tightly around his shoulders, then regretted it as his collar brushed slimily against his neck. He needed to get off the commute shift. ********************************************************* Tim squinted through the windshield as his wipers fought the quickly freezing rain. The defroster just wasn't working properly and he hunched to get the best available view through the half-fogged glass. The imperturbably calm weather-and-traffic report on the AM radio began to again recite school closings, road closings, traffic pile ups, ice advisories, and winter storm warnings. He changed the station and listened to another imperturbable voice recite school closings, road closings, traffic pile ups, ice advisories, and winter storm warnings. He tuned off the radio. Maybe it would make more sense to travel down through Bludhaven? One way to find out. He pulled over to the side of the road and put on his hazards. Then he reached into his pack on the passenger seat, withdrawing his cell phone and dialing a preprogrammed number. He waited as his call passed through the usual satellite scramblers. Then an electronic voice answered. "Oracle." "Hey, Oracle. Robin." "Hey, kid. What's up?" "Look I'm just heading home from school and -" "You're driving in this?" "Trying to. Listen, I'm closer to Bludhaven right now and I was wondering -" "Nothing doing, kid. 61 is a disaster - three different pile ups. Traffic isn't even thinking of moving anytime soon." "I could take old Airport Road-" "Yeah, and pick up the former Boy Wonder while you're at it. He's NEVER going to make it home." Tim sighed. "Well, at this point I guess the best thing is to press on to Gotham." "Yeah, I guess. Call me when you get near town, okay? Your boss just called to say traffic is a disaster there, too." "You got it. Later." "Bye." Tim hit the "end" button and stared as trucks rolled by at speeds too fast for conditions, each rocking his minivan and coating it with a new sheet of freezing water. He turned back on the radio, then selected a cassette to listen to. He needed to concentrate in these conditions, but a little music couldn't hurt. As the lead tape hissed and popped, Tim found his opening back into traffic, signaled, and continued on his way home. ********************************************************** "Ladies and gentlemen, due to inclement weather in the greater Gotham metropolitan area, this flight has been rerouted to Metropolis International Airport." A communal groan drowned out the next few words from the pilot. "...Airlines apologizes for the inconvenience. We expect to land in 45 minutes." Dinah snorted. "Yeah, whatever," she muttered. "I hear that right?" Babs' voice chimed in her ear. "If you heard Metropolis," Dinah affirmed, noticing that her seat mate was once again scooting as far away from her as the seat would allow. "I'll get you on the first available train to Gotham." "'preciate it." "Even if it's a freight train?" "You wouldn't!" Babs chuckled. "You're right. I'll be in touch." "Thanks, partner. You rock." "I know. Oracle out." ************************************************************ Bruce thought he saw an out. There was an alley only two car lengths ahead of him. If he could just get there - which at his present rate of one car length ever 3 minutes seemed very unlikely - he could cut through and come back out onto the streets where the congestion was not so bad. After all, he had the world's best information source- He tapped his comlink. "Grand Central." "Oracle?" "Oh, hi, Batman. Still stuck?" "I'm coming up to an alley off Harrison, right before the intersection with 5th." "Hold on a second." There was a sound of tapping keys. "You're THERE?" "Bad news?" "You don't want to know." "If I take this alley?" "You'll be stuck in the alley and NO ONE is going to give you an opening to get out if you actually ever do get to the end." "But-" "Look, just keep going with the flow. Call me back when you get to 6th." "That could be an hour!" "Don't worry, you've got the time. Your date just got rerouted to Metropolis." "My da- what?" "Don't worry. I'll get her home. Oracle out." "Wait!" But there was only silence on the line. END PART TWO Commuting is Suck (3/8) by Chicago The tape case had clearly read "Muddy Waters." The tape itself had been clearly labeled: "Muddy Waters." He'd checked carefully before he'd merged back into traffic, knowing exactly what he wanted to listen to as he fought through the spray from the trucks and the slippery conditions. He also knew once he got going again, he would need all his concentration for driving and could not afford to be futzing with the tape deck. Which is why, for the second time today, the minivan's speakers were saying, "Tommy, can you hear me?" He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Jerry was going to be SO dead when he saw him again. Although Tim had to admit, the Who was kind of growing on him... **************************************** "It's not a bus, Babs." "What do you mean, it's not a bus?" "Buses have tires and go on the ground. The thing that's been picking up people at this stop doesn't." "Dinah, you've been in a plane all day. You've been to APOKALIPS. Flying transportation is nothing new to you." "This is Metropolis, Babs. They couldn't drive when they only had to think in two dimensions." Babs snorted. "Oh, yeah, and Gotham is SO much better." "Notice there are no flying cars in Gotham yet?" "Look, Dinah, do you not WANT to come back to Gotham tonight? 'Cuz it would be just as easy for me to book you in a hotel -" Dinah sighed heavily. "I'll get on the bus - or whatever you call it." "It's a bus." "I hate buses." "You only have to take it downtown. 15 minutes tops." "Fine." Dinah closed her cell phone and picked up her bag. She pulled her coat around her a little more tightly as she stepped out of the terminal and crossed to the bus shelter. A blast of cold wind cut through the plexiglass structure, and the scudding clouds above looked threatening. Whatever was hitting Gotham was headed this way. Dinah shivered and hoped she didn't have to wait long for the bus. ********************************************** Babs glanced up as a new travel bulletin flashed across her screen. "Oh, crap!" she muttered, opening one of the five lines she'd been juggling since the storm started. "Bruce." "Talk to me, Oracle." His voice was a low growl, almost the Voice. She couldn't blame him after spending over two hours crawling through downtown Gotham. "Bad news," she reported. "There was just an accident on the interchange leading to the Robert Kane. They've closed down all access to the Bridge." "No." "Just came through. Sorry about that." "Easy for you to say," Bruce grumbled. "You want me to patch you through to Dick so you can complain to him about cops closing accident sites? 'Cuz I can do that for you, y'know? I'm sure he'd LOVE to hear -" "Thanks for the heads up, Oracle," Bruce cut her off with forced pleasantness. "Would you mind terribly helping me find an alternate route?" "That's better. The best I've got has you going back crosstown to take the Trigate. I think your best bet is to go through the Bowery and cross the Sprang there. It looks like traffic is lighter on the Upper East Side, and I'm sure the Aparo is going to tighten up real fast now that everyone is being rerouted." Bruce groaned. "That's going to take -" "I'm getting Dick on line -" "Thanks, Oracle. Hey, doesn't this new route go by the airport?" "Why, yes. Yes, it does. Of course, the airport's closed." "Of course." He did not sound pleased. "She's coming in via train from Metropolis. If the bus ever picks her up." "The train? But -" "You know," Babs voice was almost painfully sweet, "I can also patch you through to Dinah if you want to complain about waiting -" "I'm taking the Bowery exit now." "Good man, Bruce. Call me if you need anything. Oracle out." ****************************************** The ambulance lurched and slid and finally found enough traction to escape the marshy ground alongside Old Airport Road. A weary cheer went up among four mud spattered cops as the driver hit the lights and pulled back onto the highway beyond the pile of twisted metal that still blocked all lanes. Dick exchanged pats on the back with the other guys, then wearily turned back to the accident site. His uniform - including the "weatherproof" winter issue BPD jacket - was soaked through with rain and vomit and mud. He wasn't cold, but he wasn't sure if that was because he hadn't stopped moving for three hours or because he was already too numb to feel anything. "This sucks," he muttered as he headed toward the fire crews debating how best to clear the road. "I love you," a voice chimed in his ear, and he smiled. "Everyone should have a wife as cool as mine," he murmured, knowing his throat mic would pick up his low tones even over the gusting wind. "You know it, former Boy Wonder. Gotta go deal with one of our stranded seniors. Stay warm, sweetheart." "With you in my thoughts? How could I not?" "Flatterer." "You're looking awfully happy there, Officer. You feeling all right?" Dick started and found himself looking into the face of one of the members of the Bludhaven Fire Department. Then he looked down at his own sodden and bespattered uniform. "You ever have one of those moments," he said, meeting the fireman's eyes, "where if you don't smile, you might cry?" The stern expression on the fireman's face changed to a rueful smile. "Yeah, I hear ya. How long you been out here, son?" "Since it first happened." The fireman gave him an odd look. "You the other cop from unit 452?" "Yeah, why?" Dick felt a sudden stab of anxiety. "My partner okay?" But the fireman had him by the arm and was dragging him back to one of the trucks. "Yo, chief. We got him!" ************************************************** Comlink time again, Tim thought grimly, staring at the taillights of the car in front of him. Once again he pulled over to the side with his hazards on. Then he turned off the tape deck and punched in the code. "Oracle here." "Hey, Babs. It's Tim." "I was wondering when you'd be calling. You've hit that snarl on the approach to the Brown Bridge." "Hey - how'd you -" "I'm Oracle, Tim. I know everything." "Ri-ight. So I need a game plan. I am so sick of driving in this." "I don't blame you. You want a route home, or you want some friendly advice?" "Sounds like the route home isn't so hot." "It's not. I can't promise to have you in Bristol in under three hours." "Three hours! I take it the friendly advice gives me better news." "You know it, Boy Wonder. Stay in the Clocktower." "Huh?" "Just borrow our old apartment for the night. You can be there in under an hour and head home tomorrow morning." "Man, that's tempting. This is just -" "I know. And it's not getting better." "I was planning to spend some roof time tonight-" Babs chuckle came over the line. "Don't bother. I don't think *anyone* is going to want to see the Big Guy tonight." "Why?" "Well, it's now 8 pm, right?" "Yeah." "Well, he left the office at five and is probably crossing the Trigate just about now." "Dude!" "Exactly." "So I can play with your computers?" "Mi casa es su casa, Tim." "I'm heading for the Clocktower." "The traffic clears up on the other side of the bridge." "Good to know. I'll call you when I get there." "Good enough. Oracle out." Tim closed his connection and reached for his tape collection, then thought better of it. He turned the tape deck back on. The Who really wasn't half bad driving music. ********************************************************* Dinah stood on platform 87 of Metropolis' Central Station. "I missed my train, Babs." "I know. I've got you on the next one out. You've got 15 minutes to get to platform 13." "Platform 13?" "That's what it says." Dinah picked up her suitcase and began a mad dash back down the platform to the lower concourse, wondering how quickly she could make it up two flights of stairs and through the crowded station. "This is NOT fun, Babs." "Wanna trade? I gotta call Bruce and tell him they just closed the Moonie Bridge." "How cranky is he?" "He's almost to the airport and he left the office 4 hours ago." "Ow." "HEY LADY WATCH WHERE -" "Oops," Dinah said into the phone. "You okay?" "I'm fine. Near miss. How much time?" "Eleven minutes. You'll make it." "I better. I'll call you when I'm on. Bye." Dinah closed her phone and kept running. END PART THREE Commuting is Suck (4/8) by Chicago "Of course, Master Bruce. ... Yes, Miss Barbara has been keeping me apprised of the situation." Cassandra looked up from her reading curiously. "The subway rocket? As far as I know, sir. Would you like Miss Cassan- ... Very well. I will see you when you get here. Be careful, sir." Alfred hung up the phone and met Cassandra's eyes. "He's almost to the airport, but they've closed the bridge." "Need me get Bruce?" "Not at all, Miss Cassandra. He'll be along eventually. Shall we get dinner?" "I cook?" Alfred smiled tolerantly. "Perhaps we can share the work, Miss Cassandra." A huge smile brightened Cassandra's features. "Woo hoo! Alfred is ROCK!" she cried, causing Alfred to shake his head. "I think, Miss Cassandra, that Miss Dinah is having a bad influence on you," he said. "Not Dinah," Cassandra disagreed, her grin growing impossibly broader. "Tim." ************************************************** Bruce reconnected to Oracle as he inched along toward the airport road exit. He could see that the off ramp was mercifully deserted - what use had Gothamites for a closed airport on a night like this? The terminals would be a mess, though, and it would be a challenge to get through to his private hangar and access the tunnels he had had Harold construct under the airport. He needed to figure out how much time he had to work with. Barbara's voice was almost too happy as she answered, "Traffic central - all jammed, all the time. Wha'd'ya need, Bruce?" "I'm ditching the car," he replied. "Which station did you route Dinah to?" "You taking the subway rocket?" "Barbara-" he growled impatiently. Her voice took on a sudden edge. "Hold on." "Bar-" "Bruce, SHHH. I'm trying to listen." "If you -" "Bruce, they are loading Dick into an ambulance, and I can't hear what's going on with you talking. Now, SHUSH!" Bruce felt his stomach tighten coldly as he fell absolutely silent, staring at the wiper blades working over his windshield. His irritation at the traffic faded against his sudden anxiety as he imagined an impatient driver jumping the line of cars and clipping an on-duty cop, or a shift in a pile of vehicles crashing down on rescue workers. He'd seen it happen before. What if Dick - His thoughts were interrupted by relieved laughter from Barbara. "Oh, that's priceless-" she gasped. "Barbara? Is he okay? What is it?" "I shouldn't be laughing - he's SO angry. I never thought I'd be thankful to Reginald Daly-" "Reginald Daly-?" Bruce puzzled. What did the unpopular but successful lawsuit of a former cop - "BPD policy - no more hero cops," Barbara explained. "You're in the accident, you're a victim and they cart you off scene. Period. Insurance issues." "I didn't realize Dick was in -" "He and Amy got clipped - they're both fine. And seething." She was still laughing. "Oh, man. I want to buy the ambulance driver dinner or something." Bruce felt his relief turning to annoyance. "So he's okay?" "Yes, he's fine. Now what did you need?" "Dinah's arrival?" "Right. She's on the 8:59 into Union Central. Actually on it, even. I've got her holding. You good to get there?" "I'll get there," he muttered, finally close enough to the ramp to cut onto the shoulder and speed past the line of barely moving cars. He ignored the aggravated horn honks as he swung onto the off ramp. "Batman out." ******************************************************************** "Yeah, me and about 500 other sardines," Dinah remarked sarcastically into her phone. "Why do all these people want to go to Gotham anyway?" she muttered softly, aware that in such close quarters, people would not help but overhear. "You *could* have stayed in Metropolis," Babs reminded her. "Oh no. I want to be home. And this time I want a few days off. No sudden trips to hidden gorilla cities. Or stupid time travel deals." She shifted in her corner, wedged against the doors of the train, and stared out at the whitening landscape. "C'mon, Dinah. You know that's not part of the mission statement anymore." "Good thing, too. If I never have to deal with another piece of ridiculous alien nonsense, it will be too soon. Don't we have enough human inspired misery without inviting every bad guy west of Krypton to the planet as well?" "Preaching to the choir, babe. By the way, I think your *friend* has found a way out of his traffic problem." "Oh?" "Yep. He's coming-" Dinah was distracted by a touch on her shoulder. "Excuse me, Miss Lance?" "Hold that thought, Babs." She turned - and managed to smile brightly. "Why, Clark Kent! Imagine seeing you here!" On the phone, she could hear Babs laughing. As could Clark, to gauge by the expression on his face. "I have to cover the 'Meeting of Mayors' tomorrow and my flight was cancelled, so-" he shrugged, smiling. "And they didn't cancel the meeting?" Dinah inquired. "Only for the bad guys west of Krypton. The mayors are already in town. But I'm keeping you from your phone call - I'm sure your friend has *important* information to pass along." There was an unexpected glint in Clark's eye. Dinah felt the blush rising in her face. "Yeah, let me just - Babs, what were you saying?" But her partner was laughing too hard to answer. ************************************************************** 'Finally,' Tim thought as he pulled into the parking garage beneath the Clocktower. He carefully switched off the headlights, the defroster and the stereo before turning the ignition key to the 'off' position. He rubbed his eyes wearily, popped the tape from the tape deck, and scooped his backpack from the passenger seat. Then he stepped out of the minivan, stretched, grabbed his laptop, locked the doors, and headed for the elevator. It felt good to be moving after 4 plus hours in the car. As soon as he got to the apartment, he was going to change into some sweats and do some serious stretching before plugging into Babs and Dick's elaborate game system. The elevator doors opened, and Tim headed to the front door - where he paused. It occurred to him that he never usually came in the front door. Which meant he never really had asked Babs or Dick for a key. He leaned his forehead against the doorframe with a groan. **************************************************************** Dick and Amy sat across from each other in the back of the ambulance, staring at each other in silence. They were identically wrapped in blankets, which only added to their bedraggled appearance. The paramedic, faintly disgusted with his ungrateful charges, had moved back to the passenger seat in front, leaving them to stew. Amy finally spoke. "Partner, you *reek*." Dick stared at her for a moment, then a smile began to creep onto his face. "Oh yeah? Well you look like *shit*." Amy tossed her head. "Better *look* like shit than *smell* like shit." "Well, at least *I* didn't wreck the car." Now Amy was chuckling. "At least I didn't get us stuck on the commuter shift." "Right. That was all *my* fault. Uhn - hunh. That's it." "You got it, buddy boy. And it's a good thing *I* was driving." "'Cuz I would've kept us *out* of the accident?" Amy snorted. "Yeah, that's it." They were both laughing now. "Guess that means I get to drive our next unit?" "Dream on, Grayson. I've seen you drive." "I'm an excellent driver," Dick deadpanned. "And I'm Batman," Amy shot back, sending her partner into a fit of laughter. "I - ha ha - I guess - ha ha - that makes me - ha - Robin," Dick gasped. Amy, exhausted, found herself laughing almost as hard. "Nah - you ain't - ha ha - you ain't got -ha - the legs for it," she judged. At the momentary indignation on Dick's face, she howled, "Oh, that look-" Tears were beginning to come to her eyes. In the front of the ambulance, the paramedics glanced at each other. The driver shrugged. "Long day." "Yeah," his partner agreed. "Let's get these guys home." They hit the lights and sped toward Rabe Memorial Hospital. END PART FOUR Commuting is Suck (5/8) by Chicago The snowflakes swirled and danced in the light that swept the now night dark cloud cover. In the streets of Gotham, various commuters looked through their windshields or the bus windows in disbelief. They stared from el platforms and a lucky few started as they glanced from the windows of their homes. All over the city, the conversations were the same - frozen in gridlock, and still the criminals get through. Wasn't that just the way? ********************************************** "I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne, but no one is going to be allowed to take off in this storm," the guard informed him. Bruce smiled his winningest smile. "I know, I know. I'm not looking to take off." "The hangars are still off limits." Bruce fought the Bat's urge to growl menacingly. Instead he managed a faintly embarrassed grin. "Umm - look, I was supposed to meet a *friend* of mine coming in on one of my company flights..." The guard gave him a sideways look. "A friend, eh?" "Yeah. And - well, I told her to wait for me, and I'm really late..." "Must be some friend." Bruce allowed his face to assume the kind of smile that passes between men in such moments. "You know it." The guard chuckled. "Okay, then, Mr. Wayne. Have *fun.*" The swing arm lifted, and Bruce began the drive to the Wayne Enterprises hangar. He'd just park the car, access the tunnel, and... Oh no. The signal. Bruce Wayne stared, his knuckles whitening as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. He opened his comlink. "Oracle." "Batman here." "Hey, you! Just dealing with your junior partner. In the subway yet?" "The signal's on. Any details?" "What? No, nothing. Man - you just go. I'll tell Dinah." "Batman out." Bruce stopped the car and sat for another second. Maybe he should have thanked Barbara. He shook himself and slipped into the hangar. He hoped he had a heated suit stashed in the cave below. ******************************************************** "You do *not* want to know what's shining outside," Babs voice came back in his ear. "No. Don't even say it." "I won't. Moot point anyway, since you don't have your suit." "I'm going to get another preparedness lecture from the Big Guy, aren't I?" "Nah, he's not expecting you. Let's get back to the task at hand, shall we?" "Maybe I should-?" "What? Walk - and you would have to walk - to Commissioner Akins' office and say, 'Hi, I'm Tim Drake. You needed something?'" "Point taken. So now what?" "Well, I can trip five of the locks from here, which leaves you two to pick. You DID remember your lockpicks, right?" "Ha ha. Yes." "Good. Top one's Dick's design, one in the knob is Bruce's. Dick can open them both in a minute five, Bruce takes about ten seconds longer. Want me to time you?" "They've been racing each other?" Tim asked incredulously. "Nope. I kept track so I could set the alarm system sweeps. Want to race the clock or should I turn off the alarm?" For a split second, Tim thought about it. Bad idea. "Turn it off, please." "Will do, Boy Wonder. Call me when you're in. Oracle out." There was a series of tell tale clicks and snaps as the deadbolts jumped back into their casings. With a sigh, Tim rummaged in his backpack for the picks, settled down, and got to work. ******************************************************** "Miss Cassandra, this is a most unwise decision," Alfred cautioned. "How hard it be? He let Dick do it." Alfred fought a smile. "Indeed. But Master Dick has also had a fair amount of experience, which is something that you do not." "But *have* to go, Alfred. Signal." "I am certain Master Bruce has seen the signal, Miss Cassandra. And I'm equally certain he will be most displeased if you should make away with one of his motorcycles." "He only said no drive car," Cassandra argued. Alfred sighed. If Bruce enlisted any more assistants, he would have to insist that the "don't" list be written with every contingency in mind. "I'm afraid, Miss Cassan-" "I go!" Cassandra insisted, pushing the helmet down over her head. She started the bike and revved the engine and even managed to walk it around to face the cave exit. Then she lifted her feet from the ground as she hit the gas. The bike shot out from under her, leaving her backflipping to safety as the motorcycle flew forward, coming to a crunching halt against the cave wall. Cassandra slowly took off her helmet, blinking at the damaged bike. She turned to Alfred. "Bruce answer signal?" "Indubitably, Miss Cassandra." "Good." Without further word, she headed back up the stairs to the Manor. ******************************************************* The ER staff that met the ambulance looked decidedly disgruntled when Amy and Dick both emerged under their own power. "What the hell is this?" a nurse raged. Amy scowled. "Look, *we* don't want to be here, either. Stupid department regs-" "Amy," Dick cautioned. He turned a wearily sympathetic smile to the aggrieved nurse. "Can you use an extra couple sets of hands?" "No way, cowboy," one of the paramedics interrupted. "Chief said pull you two off duty and that means off duty until you're checked out by the good docs here." Dick offered a conciliatory smile as he shot a conspiratorial glance at the nurse. "Okay, okay. We'll be good. C'mon, Amy." He dragged his scowling partner through the emergency room entrance ahead of the ER and ambulance teams, settling them both down in a pair of chairs in the crowded waiting room. ******************************************************** "Y'know, Lois actually just flew out to Govalia." Dinah smiled winsomely. "You don't say. We probably passed each other over the Atlantic." "I wouldn't doubt it. Pretty amazing the turn around there. I don't think anyone saw it coming." "Oh, I think it was a lot closer to the surface than people realized. You know how it is with these dictatorships. Closer they are to falling, the tighter their efforts to control everything." A sudden chuckle sounded in Dinah's ear. "And the more you tighten your grip, the more planets will slip through your fingers," Babs quoted. "Thank you, Princess Leia," Dinah growled, reaching for her cell phone. "Excuse me, Clark." She snapped open the phone. "You have something to tell me?" "Aren't you glad I reminded you to carry a cell phone?" "Babs-" "Okay, okay. Testy, aren't we?" "I'm on a train, halfway between Metropolis and - oh no." There was a sudden lurch, followed by a flutter of the lights, then sudden darkness. The regular noise of the train's motion had been suddenly silenced as it coasted to a stop. Dinah's "oh no" joined a communal groan from the other passengers. "Okay," Dinah whispered, acutely aware of how her voice would carry in the relatively quiet train. "I'm now on a train which is STOPPED halfway between Metropolis and Gotham, in the dark, in the cold - you better have some good news for me, sister." "Umm, maybe I should call back." "He's not going to meet me, is he?" "Signal." Dinah mouthed an expletive, then sighed. "Great. Fine. Well, *if* I ever get to Gotham - hold on. What is it, Clark?" Clark leaned foward. "There's a mechanical short down the line," he murmured softly. "The electric track is dead. I just heard the head engineer call for a diesel. Hour wait." "You hear that, Babs?" "Yeah. Sorry, Dinah." "Not your fault. How's the rest of the gang?" "Well, this last bit of news has put you a little closer to edging out Dick for the suckiest night stories." "But not quite?" "Anyone puke down your jacket?" "Ew. No." "Then not quite. Hang in there, Dinah." "Will do. Bye." Dinah restowed her cell phone as emergency lights finally fluttered on, casting an unearthly glow on the train's passengers. A small round of applause started, then some wag said, "Metralink - we'll get you there *on time*." As weary laughter rippled through the car, Dinah smiled wanly at Clark and wished she could just ask him to fly her home. END PART FIVE Commuting is Suck (6/8) by Chicago The traffic had loosened, but the streets below were still effectively gridlocked. The fact that he was moving faster than the cars almost made up for being cold and wet. Almost. He must be getting soft, he reflected. Ten years ago, he'd be wearing a thinner suit in weather like this and giving Robin grim looks for complaining about the cold. Not the he ever really complained, despite the short pants, but if he had... He landed carefully on the grotesque which glowered over the GCPD central headquarters across the street. The signal was still lit, but the rooftop was empty. He frowned. Perhaps Akins had retreated inside, hiding from the elements. The commissioner had earned some grudging respect from the Batman, but he was no Jim Gordon. Jim Gordon would wait outside, no matter what the weather. Batman fired a jump line to swing down into the shadows below. At least he wouldn't have to work on seeming grumpy. He watched from the shadows for a minute, puzzled that there was no sign of movement. Nor was the icy crust around the roof door disturbed. The signal had gone off by itself? He stepped out into the light and inspected the signal. The switch was in the off position, but the switch plate was loose, allowing water to trickle into the workings of the signal. And ice bridge must've formed between the contacts. He backed away from the signal and opened a comlink channel. "Batman to Oracle." "Hey, Batman. Who is it this time?" "Weather," he growled. "Can you access the building's circuit breakers?" "GCPD headquarters? I cut my cyberteeth hacking that building." "Good. Turn it off." "Too much work for you to hit the off button?" His tone was sour. "I'm not in the mood to get electrocuted." "Sometimes you are? Never mind - don't answer that. It's you." The signal winked off. "There you go. Anything else?" "Where's Dinah?" "Ooh, too cranky to even pretend you're not sleeping with her?" "Oracle -" "She's regaling Clark Kent with outrageous stories in a stalled train." Batman made a low noise in his throat. "I'll let her know you said that," Oracle said cheerfully. "I'm going on patrol." "Have fun." "Batman out." *********************************** "Where do you keep the tea bags?" Tim asked as he rummaged through cupboards. "Depends. Are they in the canister marked 'tea' next to the stove?" "Umm... There's no canister marked 'tea' -" "Ah! It's on top of the TV." "What?" Tim walked into the living room. "Why is it - oh. Dick was the last one here, wasn't he?" "He leave a mess?" "Not too bad. Looks like he slept in front of the TV." "Probably." "So the signal was a false alarm, eh?" Tim started folding the blankets strewn on the couch. "Yep. Shorted on." "Nice. He cranky?" "I'm not sure, but I think I heard him use a word I wouldn't repeat." "Ouch." In the kitchen, the kettle began to whistle. "So should I tell him to swing by?" Tim turned off the kettle and dropped a tea bag in his mug. "Let's see - cranky boss, cold and wet night, and I'm sitting here without my suit. That would be a no." "Aw, c'mon, Tim. Where's your sense of fun?" "I left it in the Cave with my suit." Babs chuckle sounded over the handset. "So what are you going to do with yourself for the rest of the evening - aside from running a refresher on how to pick a lock?" "Hey, they weren't just any locks -" "Three minutes, four seconds. Way behind the curve, Boy Wonder." "Babs-" Tim poured water into his mug. "I'm teasing. But Cass can pick them in under two minutes." "Babs-" "Okay, okay. So what's your plan?" Tim reached for the honey. "Well, I thought I'd maybe test out some of your training equipment, then I'm going to see what new games are on the computer. You?" "I've still got operatives in the field. But call if you get bored." "Will do. Later, Babs." "Bye, Tim." Tim hung up the telephone and returned it to the cradle. Then he settled his headphones over his ears and hit play. The Who really rocked. *************************************************** The woman standing beside Clark chuckled. "Next time I get annoyed at my commute, I'll remember that," she remarked, shaking her head. Dinah grinned. "That's nothing. Friend of mine got it into his head that it would be fun to bungee jump to work." "You're shitting me." Dinah's grin broadened. "Yep. My name's Dinah, by the way, and this is Clark." The woman returned Dinah's smile and nodded to Clark. "I'm Morgan." "So what stroke of ill-fortune got you on this train?" "It's my regular train. Husband works in Gotham, I work Metropolis. We alternate weekends." "Oh man. And I thought my man Clark and his wife had a crazy schedule." Morgan turned her eyes to Clark. "Oh? What line of work are you in?" "I'm a reporter," Clark mumbled, glancing reproachfully at Dinah. "So's his wife," Dinah added. "She flew out to Govalia of all places right before the storm hit, and poor Clark's flight got cancelled." Morgan nodded knowingly. "Been there. Airport romance. Gets old fast." She knew it wouldn't hurt him, but Dinah ground her heel into Clark's instep warningly anyway. "Yeah, I hear you," she said sympathetically. "But poor you - planning a night with your honey, and then stuck on this train..." Morgan sighed. "Not the first time, I'm afraid. By the time we get home, I'll be too tired to even watch my _Brave and the Bold_ tape." "You're a _Brave and the Bold_ junkie too?" Dinah exclaimed. "I've been out of town. What'd I miss?" Clark sighed. "Oh, come on, Clark. Lois watches too. Morgan, you must tell me - did they tell if Chrysanthemum is really pregnant?" Morgan shook her head. "Not unless they did it on today's episode. But J. Arthur Price - hey, you want some wine?" "Huh?" "I'm just thinking that I've got this bottle of wine sitting here that I bought to go with dinner, but -" "You got cups?" "Dixie cups." "Honey, you've just answered my prayers. Crack that open." Morgan grinned and pulled out a bag of cups and the bottle of wine. She handed a cup to Dinah and offered one to Clark. "No, thank you," Clark demurred. "Don't mind Clark," Dinah apologized. "He's just a total boy scout." Morgan shrugged and took a cup for herself, completely missing the look that Clark shot at Dinah. Dinah just smiled. ****************************************************** Amy was pacing impatiently when Dick returned from rinsing his shirt in the men's room. She stopped when she caught sight of him, setting her hands on her hips. "You feel better?" she asked. "Hey, I'm still soaked, but at least I'm not totally slimed." "This is stupid, Grayson. I am so out of here." Dick caught her arm. "Hey, partner. Where you gonna go?" "Home. Around the block. Anywhere but here." "They won't let you back to work until you get checked out. Might as well hang here and keep me company." "Yeah, 'cuz I don't see *your* mug enough." "Amy! I'm hurt!" Dick stuck out his lower lip in a champion pout, earning a glare from Amy that she could not maintain. "You're a dork, Grayson." Dick grinned and caught the eye of a pair of children who had been watching them. "Can you believe she just called me that?" he asked, a glint in his eye. The little boy - he looked about 9 - shook his head. "Me, neither. Amy, you're setting a bad example for the kids." Amy shook her head and turned to the same pair of children. "You see what I have to put up with everyday? I swear, he's worse than my brother." The little girl giggled, and Amy squatted down to be closer to their eye level. "So what are you kids in for?" she asked. "Their mother was in that pile up on south 61," a voice answered, and Dick met the eyes of a weary looking man in grubby coveralls. "They're doing X-rays and stuff." "They think she'll be okay?" Dick asked sympathetically. The man shrugged, resting a hand on the head of his son. "We hope so, right, Deontae?" The little boy nodded. "So what's your story?" the man asked, watching as Amy chatted with the kids. "We were on the Airport Road pile up and our chief figured out that the squad car in the mix was ours, so we were kicked off duty until someone confirms we're okay." "Hell of a night." "Yeah. M'name's Dick, by the way." The man extended his hand. "Terrence. My kids, Deontae and LaTasha." Dick accepted the handshake. "And the vision of patience with me is Amy." "You're a fine one to talk, Grayson," Amy retorted. "At least *I* can sit down and get my paperwork done." "I get fidgety," Dick defended, acknowledging Terrence's sympathetic smile. "You know why?" Amy asked the kids, who shook their heads with wide eyes. "I'll tell you. My esteemed partner over there was raised in a *circus*." Terrence glanced at Dick appraisingly. "You let her say things like that?" "Kinda have to. It's true," Dick confessed, instinctively catching the wadded up glove Amy tossed at him. "Amy-" "C'mon, Grayson. Juggle." She threw another glove at him. "This is only two," he objected. "You've got a pair, too." "Amy-" "Please, Officer?" LaTasha requested, her eyes meeting his pleadingly. "LaTasha-" Dick chuckled. "No, it's okay. I could never refuse a lady." "You ignore me all the time," Amy grumbled. "You're no lady, you're my boss," Dick shot back as he sent first one, then two, then three gloves into the air. He let one fall. "Must be out of practice," he joked as Deontae scrambled after the balled glove. He pulled another glove from his pocket and balled it up with one hand while keeping the other two gloves in motion. Then he smoothly integrated the third glove into his routine, leaning and stretching as if the gloves were flying out of control and he was barely catching them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw other children looking over, some even standing and stepping forward for a better view. He smoothed his motion. "Okay, I think - toss up that other one, Deontae!" Deontae obeyed, and a small round of applause started as the fourth glove joined the others in their aerial dance. Amy began quietly helping kids find seats around her juggling partner, giving him plenty of space. A second round of applause from the waiting room brought the desk nurse out to investigate. A smile crossed her haggard face as she glimpsed the cops that had come in earlier that night. In a couple of hours, the gaggle of children filling chairs would fall asleep waiting for word on injured parents, but in the interim? She whispered a silent prayer of thanks that for a little while, at least, her duties would not include chasing after stray kids. END PART SIX Commuting is Suck (7/8) by Chicago "Grayson?" a nurse called, shaking Dick from his reverie as he stared out the window at the continuing storm. "Right here," he replied, threading through the chairs and sleeping forms in the waiting room toward the triage desk. "In here," the nurse directed, leading him toward a curtained examination area. "Someone will be in in a minute." "No rush," Dick replied to the nurse's departing back. He sighed. He hated hospitals. "Hanging in there, Short Pants?" Babs' voice murmured in his ear. "All I want right now is a hot shower and you in my arms," he replied in the lowest of tones, conscious of the possibility of being overheard. "Flirt." "How's your night?" She chuckled. "Busy, but better than yours. Hurry home when they're done with you and Amy." "So, Grayson, Richard J.," a brisk voice suddenly sounded, "what can we do for you tonight?" Dick looked at the chart-studying doctor who had just drawn aside the curtain and smiled wearily. "Send me home?" he suggested. The bright eyed woman looked up and met his smile, the forced cheer of her tone giving way to a sympathetic expression. "We'll see what we can do." **************************************************** It was definitely snow now. Heavy, wet, only now accumulating after the first several misty sleety hours had changed from slush to ice on the city pavements. The only people out were some miserable cops, the salt and plow crews, disgruntled deliverymen and Batman. If he'd been in a better mood, he might have laughed about the company he was keeping. As it was, he was more aggrieved about the company he wasn't keeping. A familiar chime sounded in his ear. He ignored it. He'd had enough of Oracle for one night. ****************************************************** Babs waited for a moment after she hailed Batman, then raised an eyebrow. "Oooh. We're getting sulky, are we?" she commented to herself "Well, then, I just *won't* tell you that Dinah's train finally got in." ****************************************************** "Well, Morgan, it's been fun," Dinah commented as she stepped from the train. Morgan offered a snort of laughter. "Yeah. We'll have to get stuck on a train together again sometime." An electronic version of the "Superman" movie theme began to play, interrupting Dinah's reply. Morgan and Dinah glanced at each other and burst into laughter. "Who -" Morgan gasped, "-has *that* programmed for their cell phone ring?" Blushing furiously, Clark Kent dug his phone out of his brief bag. "Oh!" Dinah spluttered, laughing harder. "Oh, Clark!" "Lois- " he said into his phone in exasperated tones. "Oh, hi. Sorry." "Look, I see my hubby. Nice meeting you, Dinah, Clark." Clark gave a distracted wave as Dinah grinned and said good-bye. Morgan moved off and Dinah's dancing eyes focused on Clark. "Yeah, just de-trained. You wanna talk to your partner?" "Babs?" Dinah queried. Clark nodded. "Um, yeah, I guess dinner sounds good about now." "Gimme the phone, Flyboy," Dinah interrupted, pulling the phone from Clark's unresisting hand. "Hey, partner, what's the word?" "Nothing for you. *I'm* trying to wrangle a trip home for my husband and some dinner company." "So what am I supposed to do?" "Go home. After all, it's not like you have anyone waiting for you." There was laughter in Babs tone. "Ouch. Fine. Be that way. Where is the grump?" "On patrol, and he's not talking to me. So you're on your own. Think you can handle that?" Dinah sighed. "Guess I'm heading for home, then. Night, partner." "Night, Dinah. Now put Clark back on, please?" Dinah held the phone wordlessly out to Clark, who accepted it. "So there's an ulterior motive for this request," he said into the phone. He listened for a moment, then chuckled. "Good point. I've got to check into my hotel, and then I'll go fetch him. See you in a few. And Barbara? Please don't call this number again." He hit the "end" button and looked at Dinah. "You want me to drop you on a roof top on my way out of town?" Dinah shuddered. "A snowy, cold rooftop? I don't think so. Right now, I just want to be home." "I can -" "No, no," Dinah assured. "Do your Clark thing right, then head over to Dick and Babs'. I'll be fine." "Are you-" "Go!" Clark gave a final uncertain look. "Okay, Dinah. Have a good night." He moved off toward the exit to the taxi stand. Dinah watched him go, then hefted the bag she had set down while they talked. She exited to the street and stared at the night for a moment under the cover of the station's entrance way. On patrol. Grumpy and not answering Oracle. She sighed and rummaged in her bag, pulling out the garish green and orange stocking cap that Lian had given her for Christmas. Good and visible from the rooftops, and practical in this weather. She pulled the hat down over her ears and set out at a brisk walk in the direction of her apartment. ********************************************************************** Tim inspected the area around the computer. Cherry Soders - check. Chocos - check. Tortilla chips and salsa - check. The microwave pinged. That would be the mac-and-cheese. He finished preparing his college student dinner, then ensconced himself in Babs' former war room. He adjusted the desk chair and accessed a carefully secured link. Then he typed in a message. Almost before he could hit return, the answer flashed on the screen. "PREPARE TO GET CREAMED." Tim grinned broadly and called up "Doom Rockers: The Revenge." A garish start title played, then a start screen prompted Tim to choose a character. Tim did so, then took another bite of his mac-and-cheese. Zanatar was instantly crushed by Rock Manenough. "HA!" flashed across the screen. Tim scowled. He set aside his dinner and leaned forward in his chair. His face took on grim lines learned in the shadow of his mentor. He positioned his hands over the keys and the track ball. He hit enter. Zanatar lasted 10 seconds. "YOU'RE SLOWING DOWN, OLD MAN!" his opponent gloated. Tim leaned back and thought. Then he realized what was missing. "BRB," he typed, then dashed from the room. His walkman sat near Babs' dojo strength mat, abandoned while he worked out. He scooped it up and settled the headphones back over his ears. If he was going to defeat Impulse, he was going to need the power of Tommy. ********************************************************************* Dick sighed as he watched Amy head up the el stairs. They'd walked this far together, hoping to catch a passing taxi to drop Amy off and take Dick back to the precinct to get his car. No cab had shown. He pulled his sodden BPD jacket more tightly around him, succeeding only in making himself colder. "Stupid weather," he grumbled. Then he froze as he heard a footstep behind him. He spun quickly to face his potential attacker. "Hey, Dick," Superman greeted. "Want a lift?" Dick smiled wearily. "Do I ever." ****************************************************************** Dinah paused. The walking had seemed like a good idea at a time. Now, however? She was cold and tired, and there were still way too many blocks to her apartment. The shoulder strap of her bag seemed to have worn grooves in both her shoulders. Her boots weren't as waterproof as she thought. She glanced up, hoping for a sign of a rescuing knight. No such luck. However, a block away, the light of the Clocktower shone through the falling snow. Her hand went into the pocket of her bag, and her fingers closed on a hard rectangle of plastic. She grinned triumphantly. Babs and Dick wouldn't mind if she crashed in their Gotham flat for a night. END PART SEVEN Commuting is Suck (8/8) by Chicago Dinah dropped her bag heavily inside the entrance to the Clocktower apartment and stretched. Not quite home, but close enough. She shed her coat and let it drop on top of her bag, then threw her hat down to join it. Her shoes joined the pile of outerwear and luggage. Yes, she should put all this stuff away, she thought, but she was tired and leaving in the morning anyway. The mental justification offered, she padded on stocking-feet into the kitchen. The light over the stove was on - Dick must've been here last, she reflected. He was always forgetting to turn that light off. He also, she realized with aggravation, had polished off the last of the Chocos. She was - incredibly - too cold for ice cream, but if ever there was a night for comfort food, this was it. She rummaged through the cupboards, pleased to discover hot chocolate mix and to find that the milk in the refrigerator was still good. She popped a mug into the microwave and continued her hunt. Babs always had some of those marshmallow pinwheels stashed somewhere. Her hand was poised over the Oracle call signal when she spied the unopened package at the back of a low cupboard. As she fished them out, the microwave pinged, cheerfully announcing the readiness of hot chocolate. This might not quite rival a night with the cape, but after the day she'd had, it was welcome. She gathered her cookies and chocolate and moved herself to the couch where someone had thoughtfully left a folded blanket and a tape in the VCR. ****************************************************** Alfred started as the toaster beeped at him, then sighed. Master Dick had been right in his youthful enthusiasm for the invention - it was a nicely subtle cue to anyone in the kitchen that someone was calling the Batcave, easily discounted as the latest in toaster gimmicks. It was also supremely silly. It was doubly silly when Cassandra Cain responded to the sound by yelling, "I GOT IT!" and hurtling toward the den at break neck speed. Any odd pager or distinctive phone ring would serve the same function - did serve it in every other room of the house, Alfred reflected. But still he kept the toaster. He continued preparing his grocery list for the Manor until Cassandra breezed back in. "Bruce not home tonight," she reported. "Mad at traffic. Go to Clocktower." "Well, that is certainly sensible of him," Alfred replied. "Did you speak to Miss Barbara while you were there?" "She laugh. Said everyone is under cover now, even Dick." She laughed? Alfred wondered. He kept the question to himself. "That is good to hear." ***************************************************** "Babs, honey, we're home!" Dick called out as he ushered Clark in the front door and relocked it. The smell of lasagna filled the air, and a comforting warmth suffused the home. "I'm in here," she replied, her voice coming from the work station at the center of the house. "You gotta come see this!" Dick glanced at Clark, who shrugged and fell in behind the younger man as he walked back to his wife's location. "Dick!" she cried when he entered the room, reaching her arms out for an embrace. Her attention turned fully to him as she accepted and returned his kiss, then exclaimed, "Baby, you're FREEZING!" He smiled wryly. "Yeah. It's been a long night. But I already feel a hundred times warmer now that I'm home." He kissed her forehead softly. "Thanks for finding me a lift." She smiled and craned her neck to see Clark standing hesitantly in the door of her work station. "Clark, you are the hero of the night. But come in, come in. You'll appreciate this, too." Puzzled, Clark stepped into the room and turned to the monitors that Babs motioned toward. "Isn't that -" he began. "The Clocktower, yes," Babs confirmed, toggling between views. She started with a large image of Batman struggling with the ice encrusted doors opening onto the fire escape. "This is outside." She switched the view to the dimly lit living room. "And unbeknownst to our caped friend, this is inside." "Babs," Dick chided, "I really don't need confirmation of what they don't do with their nights-" "That's not the good part, Dick." Babs' eyes danced with mischief as she changed the view again, this time to her old workstation. Dick stared at the scene for a moment, then began laughing. "Oh, no. Does he know Dinah's there?" "Nope." "And Dinah doesn't know-" "Nope." "And Bruce?" "Nope." "Oh, poor Tim!" Dick chuckled. "You really should -" "Uhn-uh, Former Boy Wonder. There's money on this." "Um," Clark interrupted. "I'm a little lost here -" "Tim hasn't figured it out yet," Dick explained, still laughing. "It's been what - two years?" "Almost three," Babs confirmed. Clark stared, suddenly grasping what they were telling him. "Tim doesn't know about Bruce and Dinah? *Tim* doesn't know?" "Hasn't a clue." Clark settled down in the chair next to Babs. "Oh man. This is better than _The Brave and the Bold_." Babs and Dick shot each other an amused look behind the Man of Steel's back. "Well, I'm going to go shower," Dick announced. "Maybe for once you'll actually win a bet, Babs." He brushed a final kiss across his wife's forehead and left the room. "Win the bet?" Clark asked. "Dick's got money on it taking Tim five years to catch a clue. I win if he wises up anytime before that." "Ri-ight." "So it's safe to set up for us to eat in here?" Babs asked. Clark's eyes didn't leave the three split scene. "Uh-huhn." ********************************************************************* "Took you long enough," a wholly unexpected voice groused. Batman glanced up from the crouch he'd settled into as he entered the apartment. It took him less than a second to make his decision. He swept his cape around her, his mouth finding hers. "Bruce!" she objected breathlessly. "You're COLD!" "You could help fix that," he murmured devilishly, nipping at her ear. "Well," she purred, "we'll have to get you out of that wet kevlar first." Her hands were already on his cowl, pushing back his mask. He growled and pushed her back to the couch. ******************************************************************* Clark shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I don't know if I -" Babs laughed. "Like you've never spied before with those X-ray eyes." "Actually, I-" "Fine, fine. You're the perfect boy scout. But don't run away yet." She pointed to the other screen, where Tim was standing up and stretching. "This is about to get interesting." *************************************************************** Somehow, the click penetrated Bruce's consciousness, despite the warm and willing body beneath his. His eyes widened, but before Dinah could ask, off-key singing filled the apartment. "EVER SINCE I WAS A YOUNG BOY, I PLAYED THE SILVER BALL..." Dinah gasped. "Duck!" she whispered urgently. Smiling wickedly, Bruce obeyed, burying his face against his lover's throat and shoulder and trailing a line of kisses down her chest. *********************************************************** "I AIN'T SEEN NOTHING LIKE HIM IN ANY AMUSEMENT HALL," Tim bellowed as he walked across the living room toward the kitchen. He really needed more milk to wash down those Chocos, and maybe a stretch break would give him a better chance against Impulse. He frowned as he pulled the milk out of the refrigerator. Had he really used that much for his mac-and-cheese? Then he shrugged. There was plenty for him, and it would probably be better if he finished it off anyway. Milk usually got consumed quickly enough in the Clocktower with all the drop ins, but every once in a while a carton would go bad, and *that* wasn't pretty. He filled his glass, making sure he left himself enough for cereal in the morning, and put the milk away. ******************************************************** Dick reappeared by Babs, wrapped in a thick robe and toweling his hair. "You're just in time," Babs crowed. "Tim has emerged." Dick looked between the monitors. "Man, Bruce is BOLD. Tim's right in the kitchen!" Clark glanced up at Dick. "Doesn't this - I mean - um -" "Bother me?" Dick finished. He shrugged. "Circus brat - the family trailer wasn't that big. But we're safe anyway. At any moment - see, here comes Tim now." Three pairs of eyes watched as Tim re-entered the living room with his glass of milk. Breath was held as the young man ambled past the couch on which his seniors risked being caught flagrante delicto. Silence reigned as he kept moving, never deviating from his course, and re-entered the Clocktower's computer station. "HE NEVER EVEN SAW THEM!" Dick crowed. "Oh, Babs - Tim -" Dick stopped, helpless with laughter. "That - that was incredible," Clark said numbly. "Man, when Tim just doesn't want to know something -" Babs commented, moving to shut down the cameras. "The worst thing about this is that I can't razz him about it," Dick complained. "But you can set the table," Babs reminded him, steering him ahead of her. "That lasagna should be about done and I need to put the garlic bread in. Coming, Clark?" Clark started. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he replied, rising slowly to his feet. He shook his head and took a deep breath. Time for dinner with friends, he reminded himself. In the back of his mind, though, he was calculating how long a commute it would be to Govalia... -end-