Small Potatoes: Night at the Roxbury By Smitty (smittywing@yahoo.com) *** "Gotcha!" Dick Grayson had slipped through the kitchen door and scooped up an unsuspecting Spud, swinging the boy over his head. "Cut it out!" Spud cried, not meaning it at all. "Alrighty," Dick agreed, walking into the living room and setting him down. “But you'd better help Babs set the table. Tim and Cassandra are coming over tonight.” “Who are Tim and Cassandra?” Spud asked, the names and affiliations of various family members still hopelessly scrambled in his young mind. “Tim’s sort of my little brother,” Dick explained. “And Cassandra used to live with Babs before we got married.” “Oh,” Spud said thoughtfully. “So they’re kind of like my aunt and uncle?” “Kind of.” “Are they married?” “Nope.” Not yet, Dick added to himself. Right. If Cass would just dump that other guy and Tim would grow a set, they'd be on their way down the aisle any day now. “Dick.” “Yes?” Dick raised an eyebrow as Spud gravely crooked a finger at him. He leaned closer, and Spud looked around carefully before leaning up to his ear and asking very seriously: “Do they wear ‘special pajamas’ too?” Dick quickly hid his smile and nodded solemnly. “Yes, they do. Tim is Robin, and Cassandra is Batgirl.” Spud gaped at him, awed to consider being in their presence. Dick chuckled ruefully. Nightwing had lost his appeal as soon as Spud had realized the hero was merely Dick in pajamas. Apparently he had higher hopes for the rest of the clan. “Just play it cool, ok? Tim’s pretty protective of his secret identity.” “Ok.” Spud wandered back into the kitchen to help Babs, who had been setting the dining room table. He’d quickly discovered that he much preferred cooking to cleaning up, and was becoming something of a hamburger gourmet. He lasted all of about four minutes before the doorbell rang and he rushed the door, anxious to meet these strange, new people. “Hi, I’m Spud,” he announced as soon as the door opened. “Well, hi,” Tim replied, slightly taken aback. “I’m Tim Drake.” “Please t’meetcha,” Spud declared, sticking his hand out for Tim to shake. “Uh…likewise,” Tim replied, trying to keep his hand from being shaken from his wrist. “Hey, you can call me Uncle Tim,” he announced generously, realizing this was, effectively, his new nephew. “I don’t think so,” Spud informed him quickly. “Oh.” Tim blinked. “Well, if that’s how you feel…” But Spud had already turned his charms to Cassandra. “You must be Cassandra. I’ve heard all about you, too.” Cassandra replied with a raised eyebrow and a twist of her head to regard Spud a bit more closely. “And I know about the ‘special pajamas’.” He winked broadly at them. “Your secret’s safe with me.” “Oh,” Tim replied, still taken aback from Spud’s earlier rebuff. “Well, glad to hear it.” He caught the puzzled look Cassandra was aiming at him. “Um…he knows we wear costumes at night,” he murmured to her, waiting for her eyes to light up and for her to nod. He wasn’t disappointed. “Well, can we come in?” he finally asked. “Oh. Sure!” Spud moved aside and ushered his new “aunt” and “uncle” into his new house with a flourish. “Hey, Babs is making dinner, so if you don’t want to do the dishes, you’d better get moving,” he advised. Tim and Cassandra managed to exchange a glance before being hauled into the kitchen. *** "So what's going on up in Gotham?" Babs asked, mixing her marinara sauce into her pasta. "Same old," Tim replied, filling his mouth with penne and broccoli. "My finals are over." "A's again?" Dick queried, tearing off a piece of bread. "Yeah." Tim nodded, scooping up yet another bite of monstrous proportions. "Still have my 4.0" Dick shook his head. "I don't know how you do it," he said. "Going to grad school and working for Bruce? I'd keel over from boredom." Cassandra giggled. "Tim is good boss," she proclaimed. "And I am good secretary!" Babs suppressed a giggle. Despite Cassandra's assurances, *that* arrangement had not been one of Bruce's better ideas. Tim blushed and dug into his plate for more food. "Oh, and um—" he started. "What *is* this?" Spud demanded, spearing something on his fork and holding it up. "It's eggplant," Babs told him. "It's good for you; eat it. What were you saying, Tim?" Spud made a face and a grand showing of placing the offensive vegetable on the edge of his plate. "I was just gonna mention that--" Tim tried again. "Purple," Cassandra pointed out to Spud. "Purple is good." Spud looked at her quizzically, then back to the offending vegetable. He and Tim watched Cassandra find a piece of eggplant in her own dish and pop it in her mouth. Spud deliberately picked out another piece and left it beside the first piece on the rim of his plate. Cassandra reached her fork across the table and matter-of-factly stabbed one of the eggplant chunks on Spud's plate. He gaped at her as she munched on it. Dick and Babs exchanged a glance over Spud's head and watched to see what he would do. "See? Purple good," Cassandra asserted. Cassandra Cain was trained in the art of killing by a world famous assassin. She had rejected his philosophy but not his language of actions. She had reflexes faster than Batman's. She could see an attack before it was initiated. She could react to it before it touched her. But she couldn’t get her fork to the second piece of eggplant before Spud did. Faster than Cassandra could stretch across the table, Spud rescued the other exiled piece and gobbled it down. "You like it?" Barbara asked curiously. Spud didn't answer, so thoroughly was he engaged in a search-and- destroy mission to eliminate all the eggplant on his plate before Cassandra could make off with it. Tim took advantage of the silence to spill his news. "CassandIaremovingintogether!" The Graysons' heads snapped to stare at Tim, who was hastily shoving more food in his mouth to avoid answering any more questions. That came out very, very wrong, Tim realized, reaching for his milk glass. "Bruce's idea," Cassandra offered. Tim nearly lost his mouthful of milk. Dick and Babs stared at each other and then at their younger counterparts. "You *are*?" Babs asked delicately. "Is it so you can have sex?" Spud wanted to know, looking up from his eggplant search. Tim lost his mouthful of milk. "Bruce's idea?" Dick choked out. "Is this so you can have sex?" he echoed his foster son's words. "Spud, what are you talking about?" He looked back at Tim and Cass skeptically. "*Are* you doing this so you can have sex?" he asked, slightly alarmed. "Bruce thinks," Tim clarified for all confused parties, "that Cass needs to start learning how to get along on her own and figured I needed to get out of the house myself—" "Bert drooled on Robin suit," Cassandra told them. "No, he just—" Tim started. He cut himself off, realizing that no explanation could help him now. "So this way we'll both have more autonomy," he finished lamely. "We get a new car?" Cassandra asked, excited by the prospect. "Autonomy means you can work by yourself," Babs explained. "Like independence." "Oh." Cassandra was momentarily subdued but then her face lit with new cheer. "Tim will teach me to drive!" she prodded hopefully. Tim's face went ashen. "I wanna drive, too!" Spud spoke up upon hearing Cassandra's wish. Babs groaned. "Tim can teach you when you're old enough," she offered. "I'm *already* in a wheelchair." "What?" Tim squeaked. "Aw, c'mon, tough guy, you can handle it," Dick teased Tim. Tim groaned and leaned his face into his hands. "Um, Spud," Barbara started. "Just out of curiosity—" She was interrupted by the phone jangling noisily. "Got it," Tim said, snagging the receiver from the wall. "Grayson residence." His face split into a wide grin when he heard the voice on the other end of the line. "Hey! What are you doing?" Everyone watched him curiously. "Yeah, yeah, sure." Tim offered the phone to Dick. "It's Roy," he said, still grinning. Dick broke out in a grin, too, and took the phone. "Man! Wassup?" Barbara rolled her eyes. "Who's Roy?" Spud asked. "A bad influence," Barbara replied dryly. Spud frowned, confused. "We'll be there," Dick was promising. He punched the "off" button on the cordless phone and tossed it back to Tim to be returned to the cradle. "That was Roy," Dick said unnecessarily. "He's been tracking a heroin distribution ring and he's got them staked out in a warehouse on the wharf. You got your suit, Tim?" "I do, Cass doesn't," Tim said, glancing at his friend. "I stay with Babs," she offered. "You guys need to bring your spares back over here," Barbara reminded them. "The way Cass tears them up, Alfred can barely keep enough in the cave, let alone keep her in extras," Tim joked. Cassandra stuck her tongue out at him. "I wanna go," Spud tried. "No way, squirt," Dick said automatically. "You can hang out here with Babs and Cass." Spud's face fell. Dick and Tim disappeared into the basement. Babs looked over her depleted table with a sigh and started clearing the plates away. "Dick and Tim didn't help cook," Spud protested, not moving from his seat. "They have to do work," Babs told him. "We talked about them going out to protect people, right?" Spud scrunched up his nose in a gesture Babs was starting to dread. "Right?" she prompted. "Yeah," he admitted. "But I wanna go, too." Babs sighed, unwilling to go another round on this conversation without Dick. "Come," Cassandra butted in, unceremoniously grabbing Spud's hand and hauling him away from the table. "I wash, you dry. Babs talk on computer." "Ok," Spud agreed reluctantly. His instant crush on Cassandra kept him from protesting, so they went to work on the dishes and Babs gratefully headed for her workroom. *** "…on the airplane and they're showing the local news and right there, on the screen, Bruce Wayne and Bimbo-of-the-Month are walking into some ballroom." Babs smiled wearily. She'd barely logged on when Dinah had started ranting. "So guess who's in her apartment eating cold pizza while this…this…Silicone Sally is driving Bruce up the wall! Where does he find them? Is there some kind of club? You sign up and get a different inflatable dummy each month?" "If you go to the Manor, I'm sure Alfred will make you something to eat." "Why would I go to the Manor? It's not like I'm sleeping with Bruce." "No, you're just complaining about his cover girlfriends." "Cover nothing. These sluts are centerfold." Babs choked on her reply. "Dinah, if you're not sleeping with him, why do you care?" "Because he's not this stupid! It's *painful* to watch an intelligent man subject himself to such…cheesecake!" "Says the woman who started her career in fishnet tights and a leather bustier," Babs pointed out, but Dinah wasn't listening. "You know, I could really go for some cheesecake. I know there's some in your freezer." "You wanna come over?" Babs offered. "You can meet Spud." "Keen. Give me twenty minutes." "Um—" But Dinah was already off the line. "Ok, sure," Babs said to herself as the phone line sounded again. "Here we go again." *** "Welcome to family." Spud eyed Cassandra curiously. "Why don't you talk right?" he asked ingenuously. "You're supposed to use 'the' and 'a' and stuff." Cass shrugged. "New at talking. No one taught me." "No one taught you to talk right?" "No. Lived on own for years. On streets, like you." "Really?" "Yes. Then Babs let me live with her. Then I live with Bruce. Now with Tim." "So are you and Tim having sex?" "No," Cassandra answered as though the question was perfectly logical. Spud's eyes lit up. She was fair game! *** "Oracle." "Oracle, this is Arrowette." "Go ahead, Arrowette," Babs replied, wondering what Roy's babysitter and part-time partner was doing on the line. What had Roy done now? "Do you have a location for Arsenal? He was supposed to check into the Tower an hour ago and Lian's starting to worry." "Arsenal contacted Nightwing and Robin about half an hour ago," Babs replied with a smile. Undoubtedly Lian wasn't the only one worrying. "He got a good lead on a drug ring and called for backup. Want me to patch you through?" "No, thanks," Cecilia Jones replied, sounding much relieved. "I don't want to disturb them. Any way you could just kinda…keep an eye— or ear—on them, though, and let me know if they run into any snags?" "Of course," Babs smiled. She and Cissie had met several times through Roy, and she viewed the girl as professional, friendly and discreet. She was one of the few who knew that Babs was Oracle, also compliments of Roy, but Babs was confident in her ability to keep a secret. "Oracle out." *** Cassandra stuck the last dish in the drainer and flicked some soapsuds at Spud. He giggled and wiped them away with his dishtowel. He dried the last dish and stuck it in the low cupboard. "So, you wanna be superhero?" "Yep!" Spud insisted. "I wanna be Nightwing's sidekick! We can be like Batman and Robin!" Cassandra smiled. "Superhero is fun," she acknowledged. "Hurts sometimes, but is fun." "Why won't Dick let me be his sidekick?" Spud inquired of her. "Does he think I'll get hurt?" "Dick get hurt sometimes," Cassandra admitted. "Maybe he think you get hurt." "But I wouldn't! I would be fast and duck!" Cassandra threw a punch. Spud wasn't fast. Spud didn't duck. Instead, he blinked at the fist poised a scant centimeter from his nose. "Well," he tried. "I'd have to learn how, first." "C'mon," Cassandra suggested. "Let's go talk." *** "Hello? Anyone home?" Dinah Lance let herself into the Graysons' house and found no one. She went straight to the freezer and dug out the frozen cheesecake hidden in the back, then found two forks in the silverware drawer. She took her finds straight to Babs' sanctuary. "Hey, girlfriend!" "Dinah!" Babs looked over her shoulder and waved at her friend. "Dick, go ahead," she spoke into the receiver. "Ok," she reported back to him. "Recording." She accepted a fork from Dinah and tugged the cheesecake plate from the box. "And here I just ate dinner," she said unapologetically. "Roy and Dick went after some drug dealers. They're planting bugs to gather evidence before bagging them." "Great," Dinah said around a mouthful of frozen cheesecake. "Less work for me." She walked over to a giant electronic mapboard standing to the side of Babs' workroom. "Did we mark off Cordova and Rheelasia?" "I did Cordova but I left Rheelasia for you." "Cool." Dinah quickly located the drug factory she had busted in Rheelasia and attempted to use the electronic controls to change the blinker from a "Critical Situation" red color to a "Neutralized" green. The whole board went blue. "Whoa! What'd I do?" "Dinah!" Babs made a few quick keystrokes and reset the board. "Give me that!" Dinah tossed her the remote as if it were a hot potato and Babs caught it easily. She pointed the instrument at the board and quickly updated the situation. "You're good at that," Dinah said, digging into the cheesecake again. "You're good at eating," Babs grumbled. "What is so difficult about this thing?" "I dunno," Dinah lamented. "All those little buttons…" Babs sighed and took her own bite of cheesecake. "So I guess you've met Spud already?" "No," Dinah said, shaking her head. "There was no one out front when I came in here. Did Dick and Roy take him?" "No," Babs told her. "He was doing dishes with Cassandra. Maybe he took her to his room to show off his horse. He seems to like her." "That's good," Dinah agreed. "Did you know Bruce is having her move in with Tim in an apartment uptown? He thinks it would be good for her to learn to live on her own." "Yes," Babs said dryly. "I believe I heard that tonight." "She pretty much does anyway," Dinah shrugged. "She has a room at the Manor but she prefers to go back to the Clocktower. It's a good thing you and Dick are holding onto that. If you gave it up she'd probably go back to sleep there and scare the crap out of some old couple." "No old people would want to live in the Clocktower," Barbara argued idly. "It's too tall." "It has an elevator," Dinah pointed out. "True," Babs acquiesced. Her next statement was swallowed by the door alarm. She reached over and flipped on the monitor. "Oh, no," she groaned. "What?" Dinah asked. "What is it?" "Stephanie Brown." "Oh." "She's our social worker." "Lucky you." "No, not at all." "Maybe you should have Spud answer the door looking clean and well-fed and adorable." "You've never met this kid. He's perpetually grubby." "He sounds great already. Let's go." The two women left the computer room and walked down the short hall to look in Spud's room. "He's not here," Babs said in surprise. "Maybe they went back up front. He and Cass both know not to answer the door." They proceeded to the kitchen. "They're not up here, either," Dinah stated, her voice grim. "Answer the door and stall Stephanie," Babs ordered. "I'll call Dick. Maybe he followed them." "Great," Dinah sighed, heading for the door as Barbara went off the other direction. *** "So you do it like this!" Spud threw a wild punch and nearly spun off the roof into the backyard. Cassandra reached out and caught him by the collar. "No," she admonished sternly. "Like this." Lightning fast, her fist was in his face again. "Punch straight." Spud tried again. Cassandra didn't try to duck. She just caught his hand. "Takes lots of practice," Cassandra told him. "Many years." "But why won't Dick teach me?" Spud complained. "I have to start NOW!" Cassandra tugged on his unruly curls. "Dick did all work and no play. Tim did all work and no play. Tim still not know how to play. Dick wants you to play." "I—" Spud almost said, 'but I don't want to play'. "But I—" Cassandra opened her arms and hugged him tight. "Good to play," she told him, sitting down on the roof. Spud nestled against her and laid his head on her arm. "When you fight…always someone get hurt." *** Nightwing was having fun. And he was not happy about his communicator interrupting his fun. "This good, Babs?" he asked, delivering a sharp kick to the jaw of the nearest drug underlord. "No, it's not," she replied. "I can't find Spud and Stephanie Brown just showed up." Dick swore under his breath and finished off his opponent with a solid, no-nonsense punch to the jaw. "We're almost done here," he confirmed, his voice a mask of professionalism. "Roy can finish this up and I'll start a concentric search around Chestnut Street. He knows how to get there by bus at least. I'll send Robin back to keep Steph under control." "Roger that, Nightwing," Babs responded crisply. "Try to distract Steph while I get Spud." "Dinah's handling that one." Dick couldn't stop the grin from breaking out on his face. "And me without my camcorder." *** "Stephanie Brown, imagine seeing you here!" Stephanie blinked as the front door was hauled open and she was tugged inside. "I haven't seen you in ages!" "Dinah?" "Of course! What are you doing here?" "I'm Spud's social worker. I came to check up on him." "You're a social worker now?" Dinah asked, taking Stephanie by the elbow. "That's wonderful! You must get an awful lot of satisfaction helping out all those kids." "I'm here to see Spud and talk to the Graysons," Stephanie told her, ignoring Dinah's small talk. "Oh, geez, they aren't here," Dinah fibbed, sitting Steph in one of the easy chairs in the living room. "They…went to the store. And took Spud with them. Maybe you can come back later? Or tomorrow? You really should call ahead, you know." Stephanie stared hard at Dinah. "I'd rather wait," she replied. "And this is what's considered a spontaneous visit. It's easy to look like everything's under control when you have time to prepare." "That must mean it's easy to catch an awkward spot when no one's expecting anyone to show up," Dinah countered lightly. "So, what are we going to do?" *** Nightwing cursed silently to himself as he slipped out the window of the warehouse, leaving Roy to clean up the scum. Robin had ducked out of the fight with the speed of a pro. Some unfortunate thug had impeded Nightwing's exit and lost a few teeth in the process. A swiftly fired decel line carried Nightwing away from the warehouse and to the top of one of the taller buildings on this side of Blüdhaven. He caught his bearings immediately and leapt from the rooftop, another decel line catching on the next building as he swung toward Chestnut Street, eyes scanning the streets for a shock of red hair. *** Babs groaned as she listened to Dinah's "gone shopping" excuse to Stephanie. What if Spud had just been hiding in one of the bedrooms or bathrooms? She couldn't go look for him there now, and what if he popped out? What would Dinah say then? She'd say something completely contrived and ridiculous, Babs decided. And Stephanie would believe every word that came out of her mouth. Dinah had a gift. Well, at least there was one place she could look, Babs decided. She wheeled her way determinedly to the elevator located in the corner of her private room and entered it. She punched the down button and rode to the basement. The Grayson's basement would be the envy of every kid in Blüdhaven if anyone besides Dick and Babs knew it existed. The WingCycle was parked at the Clocktower and the convertible-chassis car was still housed in the same warehouse as it always had been, but the area was still scattered with trampolines, workout mats, a sparring ring, various other workout equipment, a chemistry lab, weapons stocks and the massive Cray that served as Babs' mainframe. "Spud?" Babs looked around the large room. He could be hiding anywhere. "Spud, it's time to come out, young man." She winced at her own use of 'young man' but looked around hopefully. Nothing but silence. "Spud, Ms. Brown is here. We need to you come out right now." No mischievous redhead appeared. Babs sighed. Maybe he *had* followed Dick. She rolled herself to the far end of the room to the gaping entrance of the tunnel. Dick and Tim had borrowed Harold and his earth-moving machines when they first bought the house, connecting to an existing aqueduct that hadn't been used in at least fifty years. It ran far under their neighborhood and came out at the old warehouse on the wharf Dick had bought before they were married. It was wide enough to drive the Batmobile through and gently curved enough for her to follow it. She should have found Cassandra before she came down, Babs realized. The current Batgirl could cover the distance of the tunnel much easier than Babs herself could. Babs felt responsible for finding Spud, though, and Cassandra wasn't wearing her communicator anyway. Dinah would just have to make up an excuse for her to be there whenever she showed up. With a deep breath, Babs started down the tunnel, knowing that if Spud were down there, he had much too far a start on her to be found. *** "Triple word score!" Stephanie stifled a groan. She'd hoped to catch Dick teaching Spud how to spelunk off a roof or something, not be forced to sit around playing Scrabble with Dinah Lance. She dared a glance at the board where Dinah had racked up an unimaginable number of points for sprawling "quasar" through the "s" in Stephanie's "sit". "Quasar?" she questioned. "That's not a word." "It's an astronomical phenomenon, a star, kind of like a pulsar," Dinah explained. "When the JSA was still together, we--" Stephanie held up a hand. "Never mind," she sighed. "I don't want to know." *** "Wingster." Roy Harper jogged into the splash of light offered by the single street lamp illuminating the corner of Chestnut Street and 8th. "Up here." "Geez man," Roy said calmly. "You might scare someone with that trick." "Exactly what I'm trying *not* to do," Nightwing replied, dropping softly to the ground behind Roy. The archer turned to see his friend's grim visage. "If we wander down the street yelling, 'Hey, Spud!' the neighbors are going to call Arkham for sure." He stepped forward, staying just outside of the lamplight. "Spud knows this area far too well to get lost and his theory on buses is 'ride 'til you see something familiar'. I've scoured the two-block radius around here. I doubt he'd be much beyond it, so let's focus our search towards the Corridor. He might have taken another bus, but he'd have to wait a good while for it." "You gotta figure, too," Roy commented, slinging his bow over a shoulder. "He did the closure thing already. Kid probably just got bored and wandered off this time. He ain't got the longest legs in the world and he's probably walking." He glanced into the shadow where his friend *had* been standing. "Damn, I hate it when you do that," he muttered. He headed to the nearest fire escape to climb up to the roof. "Stay on the floor," Nightwing's voice came from the darkness about him. "We have a better chance of catching him if we're covering multiple areas. I need your eyes down there." Roy nodded and turned his attention to noticing the details of the surrounding area. "Stay on the lookout for a Brown Route bus in case he found a later one. He doesn't have a bike," Dick continued, "or anything else with wheels. Even if he made it downstairs, there's nothing there he can use." "The El?" "Too far. And he'd have to go through the park. He's smarter than that." "So we're restricted to the area an eight-year-old on foot can cover in forty-five minutes." "Exactly." "Two miles, maybe three. No more than that. We're too far away." "Then let's get moving." *** Stephanie carefully laid out 'worry' linking to the 'y' in Dinah's 'yahoo'. 'Yahoo' had been argued bitterly, and Steph figured that if she was going to lose that battle, she might as well get some mileage from the letters. Dinah continued with 'thrill' using one of the 'r's. Steph managed to reply with 'lazy'. Dinah used the 'z' to spell out 'banzai'. Steph decided not to argue and spelled 'beat' off the 'b'. Dinah spelled 'truffle'. "Do you expect them home soon?" Steph asked, glancing at the clock. It was already half past eight. How late were they going to be keeping Spud out? If they really *were* at the grocery store. "Who? It's your turn, by the way." "The Graysons. And Spud." Dinah shrugged. "Any time now." Steph sighed and looked at the collection of vowels on her rack. "I'll pass." *** The tunnel was brightly lit with halogen bulbs but it still held the chill of months past. Babs pushed her wheels forward slowly, listening for footsteps ahead of her. "Nightwing to Oracle." "I'm here, Dick," she spoke into her headset. "Please tell me you found him." "Negative. We're heading in your direction. Arsenal estimates he'll be two to three miles from the house. But we're going over land and Robin's still en route. Someone should check the tunnel." "I'm already down here," Babs replied, releasing her wheels and leaning back in the chair. "Maybe half a mile in. No sign yet." "He's probably too far ahead of you," Nightwing said, almost to himself. "If he's down there, you won't get to him before he comes out the end. But keep checking in case he doubles back or stops. If Arsenal and I don't find him out here, we'll have to go back and start our search from around the warehouse." "Would he even be able to work the controls to get into the warehouse?" Babs asked. "I hope not," Nightwing replied grimly. "But I can't say that he won't. He got the vacuum apart." There was silence between them for a long moment. "Oracle, Arsenal's found something. Going to check it out." Babs heard a click and Dick was offline again. She sighed and pushed forward. *** "L-A-the 'T' from potato-E." Stephanie nodded. "And a double letter on the 'A'." She checked the clock again. "Which is what the Graysons are." "What? Late from grocery shopping? Did you have an appointment?" "Well…" Stephanie looked away from Dinah. "Not exactly." "So how are they late?" Without waiting for an answer, Dinah started slapping tiles down, using some of her own and running through several previously used words. "Let's see, Q is ten points, X is eight, two double letter scores, a triple word score *again*, that makes…" "Wait a minute." Stephanie stared at the board. It *looked* like Dinah had spelled out BXLOMRMLEZQ. But it couldn't be, could it? "You are *not* even going to try to tell me that's a word." "What?" Dinah asked, leaning over the board. Stephanie watched her carefully. This would either degenerate into another JSA story or Dinah would bluff her way out of it. Steph had seen the older woman do this kind of thing before. At one time, she'd even admired it. Either way, Dinah was going to win and Stephanie would have to keep wasting time on this stupid game. So she kneed the board. Dinah jumped back as the board bucked up, tiles flying. "Whoops," Steph apologized. "I think I bumped the table." "No problem," Dinah said kindly. "I'll just add up out totals. You have…38. And I have…well, my last word was 375 and then…" Stephanie leaned back in her chair and contemplated a career change. *** Cassandra Cain sat on the roof of the Graysons' home, watching the stars. One hand stroked absently through Spud's curls. The air was warm and smelled of the lilac bush from the backyard. Crickets chirped around her, but Cassandra barely noticed. She had other things on her mind. Other things that went by the name of Spud and currently dozed in her lap. Shortly before he fell asleep, she'd asked him why he hadn't wanted to call Tim 'Uncle'. He'd told her the men who would take his mommy away for the night and not pay her always wanted him to call them "Uncle This" or "Uncle That" and he didn't like any of them. She looked down at the boy who looked so peaceful in his sleep. He seemed to need a mask to hide behind as much as any of them, Cassandra thought, and she didn't understand why Dick and Babs kept saying no. *** "What is it?" Dick asked from the fire escape above Roy's head. "When you said red sweatshirt, did you mean like, tomato red or darker?" Roy asked grimly, turning over a piece of fabric in his hands. He was answered with dead silence and wasn't surprised when he sensed Dick's presence over his right shoulder. "Let me see." "It's a little…torn up," Roy warned hesitantly. He let Dick pry the scrap from his hands and look it over. "Not his," Dick said instantly. "You're sure?" Roy wanted to make sure before he let the sick feeling in his stomach ease. The sweatshirt was a mess, sliced through and sticky with something that smelled like copper. Roy didn't want to think any harder. Dick held up the cuff of one sleeve. "Cuff's intact. Spud's cuff is all torn up. He chews on it." Roy watched the torn sweatshirt drop to the ground as Dick took the air once more. He stared at it sprawled limply on the alley floor. It must have belonged to someone's kid. *** Dick and Babs had sure picked a lousy neighborhood for roof- crawling, Tim griped as he picked his way through the backyards of many of their neighbors. The tunnel he and Dick had hollowed out and reinforced served its purpose perfectly: It hid Dick from detection when none of his neighbors needed to know that their friendly neighborhood cop was really Nightwing. It shot him right into the sewers of Blüdhaven and from there it was only a quick throw from the street and he was back in the air where he belonged. But Tim wasn't using the tunnel. If Spud was in the tunnel, he reasoned, Dinah or Cass could find him fast enough and he'd probably get tired of walking before he got anywhere near the city. That didn't solve the Steph problem, he thought grimly. But it was a start. And if Spud had left via the house, Tim needed all his senses alert to find one lost little boy in a quickly darkening neighborhood. He boosted himself up into a tree. From here, the trees would provide adequate cover until he got to the Graysons' house. He was transferring himself from one tree over a fence to another when he saw them. "Cassandra," he hissed, dropping silently onto the roof next to her. He'd made trip from three yards over in record time and was now squatting next to her. "Shhh," she instructed calmly. Tim followed her glance down to see Spud sound asleep in her arms. His on-schedule, regularly-beating, super-efficient heart softened as he watched Cassandra cradle Spud in her arms. Tentatively, he reached out and smoothed down one of Spud's more unruly cowlicks. Cassandra beamed at him. *** "…and this one was when we all went to Tobago…" Stephanie was trapped. She was sitting in an overstuffed armchair was a massive picture album on her lap, getting the pictorial tour of The Marriage of Richard and Barbara Grayson by a very enthusiastic Dinah Lance. "…and there's me with a ukulele…" *** "False alarm," Dick reported glumly "We're not having any luck. I'm going to head back to the warehouse and leave Roy to finish this search." "Don't bother." Dick and Babs heard Tim chuckle softly into the line. "I've got him. He was up on the roof with Cass. I'm bringing him down now." "Cassandra," Babs lamented, dropping her face into her palm. "I totally forgot about looking for Cassandra." "Don't worry about it now," Dick told her. "I'll be home soon." "Tell Roy that Cecilia's looking for him," Babs requested. "No problem." There was a pause over the line. "I love you," he added, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "I love you, too," Babs replied, suddenly knowing everything would be all right. *** "Hey Steph." The voice was a low tenor, one Stephanie knew well. She was vaguely aware of Dinah's voice trailing off and Steph stared harder at the picture of an exceedingly ugly statue someone had given Dick and Babs on their second anniversary. "Hi Tim." She finally looked up at her ex-boyfriend. He was holding a sleeping Spud against his shoulder and was dressed in khakis and an oxford button-down that wasn't quite as blue as his eyes. Now that she could see his eyes. She was prettier than ever, Tim thought sadly. He wasn't angry with her anymore—that had passed a while ago. But they'd never be friends again. He realized Spud was sagging and boosted him back up to shoulder level. "Tim! Dinah exclaimed, her tone light but her eyes urgent. "Are Dick and Babs back from the store already?" Tim caught on immediately. "I ran into them while I was picking up a few things," he explained easily. "Spud was getting sleepy so I offered to bring him home. Poor little guy's beat." He smiled charmingly at Steph. Dinah relaxed slightly. "I'm going to put him to bed, now," Tim told the two women, heading back to the bedrooms. "Nice seeing you again, Steph." "Likewise," she replied softly. She stood as he left. "I guess my work here is done," she told Dinah. "I've seen what I came to see. Looks like everything's going fine." She crossed the room to the front door. "Let me see you out—" "I know where the door is." "Steph—" Dinah grabbed the closing door as Stephanie stepped onto the porch. She paused in the threshold, unsure what she had wanted to say. "I'm—I'm sorry I wasn't there," she said quietly. Stephanie shrugged. "I don't blame you," she said simply. And she was gone. Dinah went back inside, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it with a sigh. *** Cassandra was waiting for him when he walked into Spud's bedroom. "Steph gone?" she asked bluntly as he laid Spud gently on the bed. "Not yet," he said quietly. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and unlaced Spud's dirty sneakers. "She need to go." "I know." He eased the shoes off, setting them neatly on the floor. Cass had passed Spud down to him from the attic stairs and then taken back the boy as Tim scrambled into the civilian clothes he stored at the Graysons' and wiped the spirit gum away from his face as best he could. She'd followed him into the room and waited for him to change. If he'd been in a better mood, he would have accused of her of peeking while he changed. Now, she stood behind him, watching him get Spud ready for bed. "He like you," she told him. Tim didn't respond until he'd tucked the bottom edge of the spread up around Spud's shoulders. If the boy woke up in the middle of the night, he could get under the covers himself. Tim stood up, smoothing the hair over Spud's forehead, and guided Cass out the door. He turned off the light and with a brief look back, closed the door. They met Dinah in the living room, where she stood with her back against the door. The three of them looked at each other helplessly. Well, Dinah and Tim looked at each other helplessly. "Must go, have date!" Cass announced. Dinah and Tim looked at her, surprised. "You have a date tonight?" Tim asked, obviously bemused at his own lack of knowledge. "Date every Saturday," Cassandra said as if Tim should know. "Cosmic Bowling. Kon likes bumpers." "You need a ride?" Dinah asked, giving Cass' shoulders a squeeze. "Sure!" Cass agreed, her eyes lighting up. "Drive fast?" "No other way to do it," Dinah assured her, picking up the bag she'd left lying beside the couch. "Ready?" "Yup!" "Tim, tell the old married folks we love 'em," Dinah called over her shoulder. "And tell Babs I'll call her tomorrow." "Sure thing," Tim said as the door closed behind them. "No problem. I love being the responsible one, really." He flopped down on the sofa and tilted his head against the back. He had just closed his eyes when he heard the door to the computer room open and the telltale click of Barbara's wheelchair. "Hey Babs," he called, waving an arm over the back of the couch. "Hey there, Boy Wonder," she replied tiredly. She glanced around. "Steph gone?" Tim settled his arm against the back of the couch and maneuvered himself around to look at Babs. "Yeah, she left a few minutes ago. Dinah took Cass to meet Kon. She said to tell you she'll call you tomorrow." "I'm glad he didn't run away," she sighed. "I was worried that it was going to become a habit." "He's only run away—what? That one other time?" Tim asked. "But he wanders off all the time. I'm going to go look in on him." Tim waited while Barbara wheeled back to Spud's room and watched him long enough to be satisfied that he was sleeping. She closed the door in time to protect Spud from being woken by the clatter of two dark figures coming in from the roof. "Spud asleep?" Dick asked, pulling the domino mask away from his face. "Soundly," Babs confirmed. "Roy, your babysitter's looking for you." "I don't need a—oh, Cissie." Roy grinned. "Yeah, I'm a little behind the power curve, today. I'll have to see if she can get me a lift. I didn't exactly expect to wind up in the 'Haven." "I can give you a lift," Tim offered. "I drove here and…I seem to have misplaced my passenger." "Never turn down a free ride," Roy agreed, tossing off a jaunty salute to the Graysons. "Thanks for the hospitality. Glad the little potatohead's safe. Maybe I'll even get to meet him next time." "Careful what you wish for," Dick cracked. "Thanks for dinner, Babs," Tim said, leaning down to kiss Babs' cheek. "Invite us anytime." "Of course, Boy Wonder," Babs smiled. "Thanks for the hand, 'Wingster. Let's go, Junior. My ass is grass if I keep Cissie waiting much longer." "She's not going to stop at your ass," Tim opined, shaking his keys. "We're out of here." The door closed behind them, and Dick and Babs looked at each other, suddenly alone. "Well, at least it's all over," Dick observed, pulling off his gauntlets. "Thank goodness," Babs agreed. She smiled as Dick pulled the top of the Nightwing suit over his head. "You think—" The doorbell rang. "Oh no," Dick groaned. "I don't think I even want to know." "Want me to answer it?" "No, I got it." Dick grabbed a sweatshirt and quickly stripped off his boots. He pulled a pair of sweatpants over his leggings and checked the peephole in the door. "It's one of the guys from the station," he reported, hauling the door open. "Hey, Jefferson. Something up?" "Got a report from your neighbors," Officer Jefferson said apologetically. "Said they saw movement on the roof. Figured I'd stop by and see if you needed a hand." "Oh!" Dick laughed. "I took the kid up there to go star-watching. It was just us crawling around up there. I think I kept him up too late." "Ah! I should be doing that kinda thing myself. Glad it was a false alarm. See ya 'round, Grayson." Jefferson nodded in a friendly way and headed back to his squad car. Dick closed the door heavily and leaned against it, glancing back at Babs. "Or maybe," she said philosophically. "It's really just begun." *** The End…or is it?