Disclaimer:  Time/Warner and DC comics own the characters mention in this fic.  
I'm just borrowing them for a moment.  ;-)

Author's Note:  Cathy said that I should try taking a whack at writing a 
Babs/Dick fic.  It's supposedly 'fun'.  But then explain the anguish I went 
through, Ack!  This is my take on a 'done to death' subject, but I just couldn't 
resist.  Special thanks to Syl.  The tips she gave were *really* helpful.

*****

I Wasn't Ready
By BK (bkeleven11@yahoo.com)

*****

I wasn't ready.

I know that it wasn't fair to him, to ask him to wait for me to be ready.   I 
honestly don't know when that day will come and he just made it so much harder.  

He just *had* to be so understanding about it.  

I could've dealt with it if he had just moved on, or if we just stayed friends.  
But his piercing blue eyes, they pleaded with my own, and somehow they managed 
to convince me.  I asked him to wait.  For how long, I don't know.  

And it's killing me.

It's killing me that I don't have answers.  I can't give him what he wants now.  
I don't know if I *can* ever give him what he wants.  He can't see it now, but 
later, he'll understand.  I'd just slow him down.  

Dick is so vibrant and so alive.  He has a brightness that affects everyone he 
comes in contact with.  He even affects me.  When I'm with him, I forget 
everything that's wrong with me, all the pain.  I forget that night,and for one 
moment I feel human again. 

But eventually, everything catches up.  I'm still in this chair.  I'm still 
detached from what I once was, what I once had.  Can't he understand that?  
Can't he understand that I'm not what he needs? 

Sometimes I have to remind myself what happiness feels like.  I'm like a 
machine, I hide behind a computer screen and I close myself off from the world.  

Except for him.

Somehow he got through. 

He's just too perfect.  

I'm painfully aware of his obvious flaws, but somehow they make him even more 
faultless, if that's even possible.  The way he looks at me when he thinks I'm 
not looking always causes me to catch my breath.  He gentle touch and his 
crooked smile make my normally articulate words falter, and he does it without 
any effort. That says something doesn't it? 

Ask me if I'm ready.  

I'm not sure.  Do I want to expose myself like that?  Am I willing to take the 
risk?  All are good questions that I don't have answers for.  Is he worth the 
risk?  

Yes, there isn't a doubt in my mind.  

Ask me if I'm worth the risk.  

That's a harder question.  Am I worth it?  Will he still look at me the same way 
ten years from now?  I'm afraid.  I'm afraid that I'm not good enough for him, 
that I'm inadequate.  Yet he's still willing to wait while I sort through my 
inadequacies.  He *is* perfect.  

Ask me if I love Dick Grayson.

I do.  On so many levels, he completes me so well.  I feel like he's my other 
half.  But I have to hide it.  If he saw one glimmer of hope, he might not let 
me go.  He'll only be disappointed later and I love him too much to disappoint 
him.  

Then why did I ask him to wait?

Is it because *I* see some chance for us?  Can I work through my 
insufficiencies?  I want to let down my defenses.  I want to let him in.  

I don't want to get hurt, though.  

But he's worth it.

Every time I see his smile, I feel warm all over.  Every time we talk, I wish it 
would last forever.  I don't want that feeling to ever end.

And it might, if I don't do something about it.

I wasn't ready, but I think I am now.

"Hiya gorgeous, whatcha thinking about?"  It's him.  His unmistakable tone is 
gentle and light.  

I turn around cautiously, anticipating his reaction.  

He beams at me.  

God, I love him so much.  

"We need to talk."

*****

End.