Disclaimer: The characters depicted here are owned by DC Comics. They 
have been borrowed without the consent or knowledge of DC Comics. I am 
borrowing them for entertainment purposes only and not to make a 
profit. This story will only be posted on this free-access website.

(Archiver note.) Rated: R for Strong Sexual situations.  (Non 
consensual with a minor involved.  Danger ahead, kiddies.

***

PUSSYCAT, PUSSYCAT WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?
By Libby (PICO19@aol.com)

**

Screaming, laughing children running rampant through crowds of people 
and brightly colored tents dotting the back lawn of Wayne Manor, 
transformed the stately brick and stone mansion into something more 
like a castle during a medieval festival. The first annual WayneTech 
Industries company picnic was a complete success. The tents sheltered 
food, music, and games for all ages. Nearly two thousand WayneTech 
workers and their families were gathered on the lawn, enjoying the 
summer Sunday afternoon and their employer's generosity.

Bruce Wayne wandered through the crowds shaking hands, patting backs 
and generally enjoying watching his people enjoy themselves. He smiled 
as he glanced over at Alfred, his butler, fretting over every little 
detail, trying to insure that everything was perfect, which it was. 

The sound of a child's high pitched squeal, drew his attention to where 
a large group of children were gathered watching Bruce's teen-aged ward 
entertaining them with his feats of acrobatics. Bruce's smile widened 
even further as he shook his head slightly in wonder. Dick was such a 
natural performer and he was so good with children. These traits were 
definitely holdovers from his circus days, Bruce thought, because they 
were certainly not ones that he himself had nurtured in the boy. In 
fact, he had always been a little envious of Dick's natural ease with 
people, especially children. People always made Bruce a bit 
uncomfortable, which was strange when one considered his current 
setting.

He found himself chuckling softly along with the children as Dick did a 
back flip, ending in a handstand and proceeded to removed one little 
girl's hat from her head using only his bared feet. Dick was actually 
keeping his moves fairly simple and as the children began to clap 
delightedly, Bruce couldn't help but wonder how they would react if 
they knew what Dick was really capable of.

Springing gracefully back onto his feet, the raven-haired youth gave 
his adoring audience a dramatic bow. As he straightened he caught sight 
of Bruce watching and flashed his guardian a dazzling smile. Noticing 
the large number of teen-aged girls and even several grown women who 
sighed audibly at that smile, Bruce was abruptly struck by how much 
Dick had grown in the past year and the fact that his ward was rapidly 
becoming a very handsome young man. He had thought to put it off for 
another year or so, since Dick still hadn't gone on a formal date yet, 
but maybe I should have that talk with the boy about women, sooner 
rather than later.

The sound of someone calling his name interrupted his thoughts and 
Bruce turned to see the tall, white-haired, white-mustached form of 
James Gordon, Gotham City's Police Commissioner, approaching him. 
Walking beside Gordon was his tall, leggy, flame-haired daughter, 
Barbara. The girl was several years younger than him, but Bruce still 
had to admire beauty when he saw it, especially when he knew that 
behind that beauty was a keen intellect and well-honed fighting skills. 
Barbara Gordon was much, much more than just a pretty face.

Walking beside Barbara with his arm around her waist was a tall, sandy-
haired, young man in his mid-twenties that Bruce did not recognize. The 
young man was muscular and handsome, and seemed very aware of both of 
these facts. He seemed an odd companion for the normally level-headed 
Barbara. Bruce stole a glance over at his ward, who had also noted the 
father and daughter's arrival.

"Bruce, it's good to see you, you're looking well," Gordon was saying 
as Bruce turned his mind back to his old friend.

"It's good to see you too, I'm so glad that you and Barbara could make 
it," Bruce said firmly shaking the large hand that Gordon extended 
towards him.

"Oh, uh, Bruce, this is Ken Melton," Barbara said indicating the young 
man beside her. "Ken, this is Bruce Wayne."

"Yeah, I recognized you from your pictures in Wealth Magazine," the 
young man said, shaking Bruce's hand. "This is some spread you have 
here."

"Well, thank you, I'm glad you like it. So, are you also a student at 
Gotham University?"

"Yeah, Barbie an I met when she tried out for the gymnastics team. Uh, 
I'm the captain of the men's gymnastics team. Of course, Barbie backed 
out on the team, saying that her class load was heavier than she 
thought and that she wouldn't have the time, but…"

Bruce nodded politely and threw a questioning glance at Barbara. 
Barbie? Barbara gave him a sheepish grin and shrugged one shoulder 
slightly.

"Well, Ken, Barbara's studies do have to come first," Gordon was 
saying.

"Of course, Dad," Barbara said.

"Oh, I know," Ken said quickly, "it's just a shame, Barbie here could 
have taken the women's state championships easily, then we would have 
had matching trophies. I'm the men's state champ."

"Of course," Bruce said with a perfectly straight face.

"Um, Ken, why don't we go say hello to Dick," Barbara said quickly 
pulling her date away from the two older men, "remember I told you 
about him?"

"Dickey, Dickey, do another handstand!" Sarah squealed, clapping her 
chubby hands excitedly.

"All right, one more, just for you," Dick said. And one more just to 
show off for Barbara, he said to himself, seeing the beautiful redhead 
approaching.

Gesturing to the children to back up and give him more room, he took a 
deep breath and executed a series of flawless forward and backward 
flips effortlessly switching directions, seemingly in mid-air. He 
landed on his hands in perfect handstand, then shifted his weight onto 
one hand and gracefully cartwheeled back to his feet. The children 
roared with delight.

"Not bad, but you really need to work on your form in that handstand. 
Your toes weren't pointed enough," a voice said off to Dick's right.

"Excuse me?" Dick said turning to face his critic.

"Dick, hi, how are you?" Barbara said, quickly stepping in between the 
two men and giving the younger one a hug. "Uh, this is a friend from 
college, Ken Melton. Ken, this is Dick Grayson, Bruce's ward."

"So, you're the circus boy," Ken said.

"Circus boy?"

"You were raised in a circus, right?"

"Yeah, until I was nine."

"And then you landed right in lap of luxury. Nice trick, I've got to 
learn how to do that one."

Barbara casually laid her hand on Dick's arm. She could feel that every 
muscle was tensed. His hands were clenched in fists. 

"Uh, Ken's the captain of G.U.'s gymnastics team," Barbara said.

"Yeah, I've been taking gymnastics since I was five, so I've had a lot 
of training. Now, don't get me wrong, Kid, you're good for your age, 
but if you want to make it in the real world of gymnastics, you've 
really got to work on that form. I suppose in the circus they weren't 
too concerned about proper technique as long as you packed 'em in and 
gave them enough of a show to keep them happy."

"Listen, Ken, for your information, I was taught by my father, who was 
very concerned about technique. And thanks to him my technique is just 
fine, thank you very much, for the circus, or for you and your amateur 
competitions!"

"Well, you've the right attitude, I'll give you that," Ken said, 
unfazed. "Now, if you just remember to point your toes more, you just 
might have a chance."

Ignoring Dick's look of outrage, Ken glanced off toward the tents. 
"Hey, Barbie, look they've got trampolines! I love trampolines. It's a 
great way to show off my moves. Let's go try them out."

"Uh, sure Ken, why don't you head over there. I'll meet you there in a 
minute," Barbara said.

"Okay," he said and turned back to Dick, "listen Kid, why don't you 
come along and I'll teach you a few things."

"There is nothing you could teach me," Dick said quietly.

"Whatever," Ken said walking off toward the rows of trampolines.

"Where the hell did that asshole come from?" Dick asked after Ken was 
out of earshot.

"He came with me," Barbara said, "as my date."

"Your date?"

"Yes."

"Okay, you're going out with a guy named Ken who insists on calling you 
Barbie, and you say my puns are bad?  The appeal of this guy is…what?"

She sighed heavily. "Look, I know he's not the greatest guy in the 
world, but, well, most of the guys at school are intimidated by me and 
won't ask me out. Ken did. I guess I thought that if I went out with 
someone like him, more guys might ask me out and I could actually have 
a social life. But I didn't really appreciate that you were so rude to 
him."

"What! Me? He started it. Who the hell does he think he is criticizing 
my form!"

"Dick, he is the state champ, so he does have some idea of what he's 
talking about."

"He's an amateur!"

"That doesn't give you the right to be rude to him. Besides you 
shouldn't be so defensive. A little constructive criticism is a good 
thing."

"Sure, when the criticism is actually constructive."

"Oh, I see, so you're too good to take pointers from anyone?"

Dick sighed, "I didn't say that. It's just that the guy was such a 
jerk."

"I know and I'm sorry. You probably intimidated him. That's how guys 
like him deal with being intimidated, by trying to psyche out their 
opponent. As good as you are, you'd better get used to it."

"I still don't get it. Why are you going out with this guy if you know 
that he's a jerk? If college guys are so stupid that you have to go out 
with someone like him to impress them, why do you even want anything to 
do with them?"

Barbara groaned softly. "That's a very good question. It's complicated. 
Maybe when you're older, you'll understand."

"Oh, I think I understand perfectly. You're going out with 'shit for 
brains' so you can convince the other guys at college that you're just 
another clueless bimbo so they'll go out with you. But when it comes to 
the guy who knows how special you are and truly appreciates your 
uniqueness, you aren't interested. How am I doing? Not bad for a child, 
huh?"

Without waiting for her response the boy turned on his heel and began 
stalking back toward the mansion. Barbara stood stunned and confused.

"What? Dick…oh, shit," she whispered, realizing her error. "Dick, wait! 
Can we talk about this?"

But it was too late. The youth had disappeared into the crowd. What 
have I done, she asked herself. I knew the kid had a crush on me, but I 
had no idea it was this bad. Oh, who am I trying to kid, I knew. It was 
just easier to pretend not to, and frankly, I liked the way he always 
stared at me. For a kid, he's pretty easy on the eyes himself. I didn't 
even stop to consider how this might effect him. I just wanted to 
impress Ken.

"Barbara, I saw Dick leave. Is everything all right?"

Barbara had to stop herself from jumping noticeably as she turned to 
see Bruce standing at her right elbow. She hadn't heard him approach. 

"Oh, uh, yeah, everything's fine."

"That's good, I would certainly hate to see Dick get hurt because of 
anyone's careless disregard for his feelings."

Although his expression was neutral and his voice was light, Barbara 
could detect a certain edge to it, a certain underlying threat.

"Yes, sir," she said.

***

Dick sat on the lowest branch of the large, old maple at the back of 
the manor with his back resting against the truck of the tree. He was 
sitting with his knees tucked under his chin, balancing effortlessly. 
He could still see the people milling around having fun, but obscured 
by the leaves of the tree, they couldn't see him. He had been sitting 
there for nearly an hour and his backside was starting to go numb. 

How can Babs go out with that creep, he asked himself for the hundredth 
time. She obviously doesn't really like him. And he obviously doesn't 
appreciate her for what she really is, smart, capable and independent. 
Why does she even want those college guys? What do they have that I 
don't? Okay, other than a driver's license, facial hair, and the 
ability to drink legally. I love her for who she is, not what she looks 
like. Granted she does look pretty damn good. Why couldn't I have been 
born a few years earlier?

"Master Dick, are you going to stay up there all afternoon?" 

Dick glanced down to see Alfred standing below him. The elderly butler 
looked as impeccable as always, despite having spent the morning 
supervising the entire set up of the party and playing troubleshooter 
throughout the afternoon. His dark suit was still as crisp as when he 
put it on that morning. I wonder if he even sweats, Dick thought.

"Yes, I am going to stay up here," he called down.

"If you come down, I have some nice milk and cookies for you."

Dick groaned. "Alfred, I'm not a child anymore, you can't bribe me with 
sweets."

"Oh, I see, please for give my confusion, you see, in polite society, a 
young gentleman does not sit in trees like a monkey. Nor does he force 
his elders to converse with him while painfully craning their necks."

As usual Alfred managed to make his point and put Dick in his place 
without raising his voice, making a fuss or unduly damaging his 
charge's pride. With a sigh, the boy dropped gracefully to the ground. 

"Much better," the older man said. "Come, let's talk. I need to get 
some things from the kitchen. Why don't you help me."

He dropped an arm on the boy's shoulders companionably and steered him 
towards the manor. They walked passed the pool, which was filled with 
laughing children, to the patio area and entered through the caterer's 
door that led directly to the kitchen. It was placed there for just 
this sort of outdoor entertaining. The large kitchen was empty at the 
moment as most of the caterers were over in the food tents and Dick 
pulled himself up to sit on one of the counters to watch as Alfred 
busied himself in the huge, commercial-sized refrigerator.

"Your sudden need to commune with nature wouldn't have anything to do 
with the arrival of Miss Gordon and her companion, would it?" Alfred 
called over his shoulder to the boy.

"What a jerk! I asked her why she was going out with that loser and she 
said that I would understand if I were older. Right, as if a couple of 
years, is going to suddenly make me think that guy is any less lame."

"Ah, now I understand the sudden 'I'm not a child' tirade," Alfred 
said, standing and turning to face Dick.

"Well, I'm not a child," Dick said defensively. "I'm almost sixteen."

"Yes, a veritable senior citizen."

Dick scowled at the butler. "You know what I mean."

"Yes, yes I do. And no, you are not a child, Master Dick, but as far as 
Miss Gordon is concerned you may as well be. While a seven-year age 
difference may not seem all that great, it's your ages themselves that 
are significant. The two of you are on either sides of a great divide, 
adulthood. It is a divide that should not be crossed. Your ages may as 
well be a hundred years apart. I think Miss Gordon is aware of this. If 
it makes you feel any better, I do know that she is very fond of you."

"Great," Dick said flatly.

"I might also point out that even if the two of you were to go 
completely insane and start an affair, undoubtedly Master Bruce would 
find out. I think he would definitely have something to say about the 
matter. I think Miss Gordon is aware of that also."

"Oh, yeah, Bruce, I forgot about him," Dick said. "He probably would 
have a cow."

"Yes. Perhaps what you need is to find someone with whom you have more 
in common."

"Oh, please, Alfred, who could I possible have more in common with than 
Babs?"

Alfred could only sigh and shrug helplessly.

"Actually, what I meant was someone closer to your own age. There are 
some very nice young ladies here at the picnic. Here, help me carry 
these containers of ice cream out to the food tents."

Back outside, after helping Alfred deliver the ice cream, Dick tried to 
make a quick getaway. But he wasn't quick enough. 

"Ah, look Master Dick, it's Miss Harrington. You remember meeting her 
at her sweet sixteen party, don't you?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Hi, Beryl, how are you?"

"I'm fine. How are you?" The girl addressed as Beryl was very petite 
with a carefully arranged mass of blonde curls that was almost bigger 
than her entire body. Her make-up was flawless, as were her manicured 
nails. She was wearing a very uncomfortable-looking tight sundress and 
was teetering precariously on a pair of ridiculous platform sandals. 

Dick had to wonder how long it took her to get ready this morning and 
how she could possibly be comfortable in such restrictive clothes. Why 
do girls dress like that? She couldn't possibly run in those shoes if 
she had to. Barbara never wore those silly clothes. She was usually 
sensibly dressed in jeans and t-shirts. 

"Dick, do you remember my friend Miranda?" the girl was saying. "She's 
here with her boyfriend Sean. I was just going to go over to see them. 
Why don't you come with me?"

"Oh, uh, well, I was helping Alfred…"

"Oh, I'm sure I have the situation quite under control now, Master 
Dick. Why don't you run along with the young lady."

Realizing that Alfred had deliberately maneuvered him into this 
meeting, Dick glanced back and threw a look of pure hatred at the older 
man as he allowed the blonde girl to lead him away. At the far end of 
the lawn, away from the rest of the merry-makers, several young people 
around Dick's age were gathered. They were clustered together in a sort 
of secretive group.

"Hey guys, look who I found," Beryl announced as she and Dick joined 
the group.

The others turned and nodded their greetings to him. Dick recognized 
most of them although he didn't know them very well. They were mostly 
the sons and daughters of Bruce's high ranking executives.

"So, are you guys all tired of the kiddy games too?" Beryl asked.

"No shit," one tall, blond boy agreed. Dick recognized him as Jason 
Weathers. His father was in charge of overseas investments at 
WayneTech. Jason handed a large, stainless steel thermos to Beryl, 
saying, "This ought to help liven things up."

"Awesome," the girl said smiling. She took the thermos and, unscrewing 
the top, she took a long swig. Grimacing, she handed it to Dick.

He gave the thermos an experimental sniff. As he had suspected, it was 
alcohol, probably vodka judging from the clear color and lack of a 
definitive smell. He passed the thermos back to Beryl. "No thanks," he 
mumbled.

"Oh, come on, one little drink isn't going to hurt you," she said.

"No, thanks," he repeated.

"Okay, suit yourself, but believe me, there's nothing more fun than 
getting tanked and jumping on a trampoline. Hey Gwen, remember that 
time last summer when we got hosed and played on your little sister's 
trampoline? You puked for four hours straight! That was so funny!"

Gwen Reynolds, a tall brunette, started laughing. "Oh, yeah, I remember 
I thought I was going to puke up my stomach!"

Wow, what fun, Dick thought dryly, watching the rest of the group 
laughing along with the girls. As others began to relate their recent 
drunken escapades, to the roaring delight of the group, Dick was amazed 
at the complete lack of direction, ambition or discipline in these 
kids. He was a year or two younger than most of them, but he felt like 
an old man among them. He felt more isolated than ever.

"Yo, earth to Dick…"

The sound of his name brought him back to the present and seeing the 
others staring at him expectantly, he realized that someone had asked 
him a question.

"What? I'm sorry I was zoning out, what did you say?"

Jason laughed. "No problem Dude, it's just that we're out of beverage. 
So, where does Bruce hide the booze?"

"Bruce doesn't keep alcohol in the house."

"Yeah, my dad said that Bruce rarely ever drinks, but he keeps some 
around for entertaining, doesn't he?"

"He rarely ever entertains, at least not at the house."

"Oh, well, that sucks. Now what are we going to do?"

"Why do you guys have to have alcohol in order to have a good time?" 
Dick asked.

"You're what, a sophomore, right Dick?" Jason asked.

"Yes."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Jason and several of the others chuckled 
at this.

"Why is that funny?"

"Oh, nothing. Come on, someone else has got to have something to drink. 
Let's see if we can find it."

Beryl turned to follow the group as they started off towards the party, 
but stopped when she noticed that Dick had not moved.

"Dick, aren't you coming with us?"

"No, I think my sophomore self and go hang out with the other 
children."

"Oh, don't take it so personally. Jason didn't mean anything by that. 
Come on."

"No, really, you go on. I have better things to do."

He turned and headed off in the opposite direction. Dusk was starting 
to settle and as Alfred directed the staff to light the torches that 
had been placed around the perimeter of the grounds, the gathering 
began to take on a more primitive appearance. Dick wandered aimlessly 
around the outskirts of the party, watching the people and generally 
feeling miserable. 

He was so caught up in feeling sorry for himself that he hadn't noticed 
the couple standing in the shadows ahead of him until he was almost on 
top of them. Luckily they hadn't noticed him. He was about to quietly 
slink away when he heard the woman speak, it was Barbara. Straining to 
see in the growing darkness, Dick could just make out Ken's arms around 
Barbara's waist, holding her tight. 

Dick tensed, waiting for Barbara to cry out or try to pull away or do 
something that would give him an excuse to jump in and rescue her from 
the groping jackass. But she didn't do anything. In fact, she seemed to 
be enjoying herself. Dick could feel his heart constrict painfully in 
his chest. This was the last straw, the final indignation to a 
humiliating day. That's it, he thought, I'm outta here.

***

Down in the Batcave, Dick was just pulling his dark green, leather 
gloves on as he headed towards his Robin-cycle. He stopped as he saw 
Bruce casually leaning against the cycle, his arms crossed over his 
chest. His face was unreadable. 

Great, Dick thought, everyone else has had their shot, telling me that 
I'm just a child. Now it's Bruce's turn. He's not going to let me go 
out alone. He's going to tell me that I'm too young, too inexperienced. 
Well, I'm going out, whether he likes it or not. If he wants to keep me 
in, he's going to have his hands full. Dick set his jaw, squared his 
shoulders and strode purposefully up to his guardian.

"Heading out?" Bruce asked.

"Yes." The boy looked up at him, his entire demeanor seeming to 
challenge Bruce to say no.

Bruce stared intently at the boy for a long moment, his eyes seeming to 
reach into his soul. Abruptly he stood, saying, "I'll meet you on the 
roof of Gotham Towers at midnight."

As he walked past the youth, Bruce stopped and placed a hand on his 
shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze.

"Be careful," he said, his voice casual.

Dick stood stunned and deflated long after the echoes of Bruce's 
footsteps had died. He had been poised for an argument, a real blowout, 
and instead there had been nothing, not even a stern lecture. He wasn't 
sure whether he should be elated or concerned. With a shake of his 
head, he climbed onto the motorcycle and kicked it into life. With a 
deep breath, he headed out into the night, alone.

***

Once within the Gotham City limits, Robin abandoned the cycle in a 
remote alley, that he frequently used for this purpose, and took to the 
rooftops. It was often easier to get a feel for what was going on in 
the city from up above. So far, everything seemed quiet, but it was 
still fairly early. 

Crouched behind the roof ledge of the Henderson Building, he scanned 
the streets seven stories below with his binoculars. Although his body 
went through the motions of patrolling, almost mechanically, his mind 
was still haunted by the sight of Barbara with that loser Ken. Okay, 
maybe I can buy the crap about wanting guys to like her, he thought, 
but just how far was she going to go to accomplish this? Surely she 
wasn't desperate enough to sleep with that bastard. Dick could feel his 
entire body tensing at just the thought of that arrogant asshole 
touching Barbara.

The sound of a building alarm interrupted his thoughts and he 
remembered that one block to the north was Caldwell's Furriers. 
Deploying his jumpline, Robin swung out in that direction. As the salon 
came into his view, he just caught sight of a lithe figure in purple 
and black streaking away from the building. Catwoman, of course, Robin 
thought, she's a well-known animal rights activist. I wonder what 
mischief she was up to in the furriers. 

Seeing her race across the street and duck down an alley, the youthful 
crime-fighter followed suit, alighting on the roof of the closest 
building. Glancing over the edge and seeing that Catwoman was quickly 
making her way up the fire escape towards him, Robin decided to 
surprise her when she got to the roof. As she reached the top and was 
turning to finish her escape, the boy stepped out from the shadows and 
grabbed her wrist.

"Pussycat, pussycat, where have you been?" he asked, smiling.

"Why, I've been to London to sit  with the queen," the feline felon 
responded, slashing at his face with her free hand. 

Robin jerked his head back just in time to avoid having his face ripped 
open by her claw-tipped glove. He deftly grabbed the other wrist and 
attempted to hold her. But Selina Kyle, otherwise known as Catwoman, 
was a tall, muscular woman, while Robin had still not yet gotten his 
full growth. The boy was at a disadvantage. It was all he could do to 
retain his hold on her as she struggled against him.

Suddenly the ground shook and both Robin and Catwoman were thrown to 
the ground as the fur salon behind them exploded, sending a ball of 
orange flame into the night. Catwoman recovered from the concussion 
first and glancing down at the youth sprawled beneath her with a look 
of mock contrition, she said, "Oops, my bad."

Perhaps it was the unexpected shock of the explosion or perhaps it was 
his already devastated emotions that left him momentarily vulnerable. 
Catwoman had landed on top of him, her legs straddling one of his, one 
muscular thigh pressed against his crotch. The boy was suddenly very 
much aware of her full breasts and hard nipples pressing against his 
chest. She must have felt the slight twitch in his groin, as she became 
aware of the boy's distraction. Raising one finely arched eyebrow, she 
made a low noise in her throat that sounded disturbingly like a purr.

"Mmmm, is the little Boy Wonder starting to become a man?" she asked 
softly. Leaning closer, she lightly bit his lower lip.

Abruptly rolling away from him, she jumped up and started back towards 
the fire escape. He rolled also and grabbed at her, just missing her 
ankle. He sprang to his feet, ready to chase, but she had already 
uncoiled her whip and with an expert flick of her wrist, the tip of the 
braided leather bit into his bare thigh, leaving a long, bleeding gash. 
The burning cut on his leg was more than enough to clear his head and 
cool his blood, reminding him of his duty to bring this woman, however 
beautiful, to justice.

Catwoman took advantage of Robin's momentary distraction to spring down 
the fire escape. Rushing to the ledge, the boy attached one end of a 
line and dropped the other end over the side. Hanging onto the rope and 
swinging over the ledge, he repelled down the side of the building to 
the ground, reaching it just as she did. Off in the distance they could 
hear the sound of sirens. The Gotham City Fire Department was already 
on its way, and probably the police.

Robin was standing closer to the alley's only outlet, blocking her 
escape. He started walking towards her, anticipating her to try to flee 
back up the fire escape. In an unexpected, bold move, Catwoman suddenly 
rushed him, tackling the surprised youth. The two rolled out of the 
alley into the street, each trying to pin the other. Using their 
momentum, Catwoman rolled the boy over on top of her, while 
simultaneously tucking her knees up under his stomach. Kicking her legs 
straight up, she flipped him up and over her head, onto his back behind 
her. She heard him land with an audible grunt. Kicking her legs up and 
out, she sprang up onto her feet and sprinted off down the street.

But the boy was well trained by The Bat and didn't give up easily. 
Within seconds she could sense him once more in pursuit behind her. 
Knowing that she probably couldn't outrun the boy in a flat-out foot 
race, she looked around frantically for another escape. Spying a low, 
two-story bakery ahead of her on her right, she thought she had found 
it. Picking up her speed she ran to the lamppost that stood in front of 
the bakery and grabbed it with one hand, using her forward momentum to 
swing herself up onto the building's red and white striped awning. 
Grabbing the window ledges, she pulled herself onto the roof. 

She had almost made it to the other side of the roof when she heard the 
whirring sound of a batarang slicing through the air and a split second 
later felt it strike the back of her knee, sending her tumbling onto 
her back. She could hear the boy running towards her. Rolling back onto 
her feet, she once more pulled her whip free. 

Seeing Catwoman advancing towards him with her whip in hand, Robin 
skidded to a halt and started backing up. She took an experimental 
crack at him, but he executed a simple backward handspring out of 
reach. She kept coming at him, slowly herding him back towards the 
edge. Any time he would try to make a dash to one side to try and get 
around her, she would lash out and drive him back.  He knew he was 
getting close to the ledge and he tried to turn his head to quickly 
glance behind him. As he did, his foot caught on something and he 
stumbled back. Reaching out to steady himself, he found only air and 
felt the ledge hit the backs of his knees as he went over the side. 

He fell onto the awning on his back and scrambled quickly to find a 
handhold. But the fabric of the awning was stretched too tightly to 
grab onto and he slid over the edge. He tried to tuck his body so that 
he would land on his back, hopefully enabling him to roll up and avoid 
serious injury, but there wasn't enough time and he landed painfully 
wrong.

***

Robin slowly opened his eyes. His head was pounding and his left 
shoulder throbbed, even blinking hurt. He was lying in a soft, warm bed 
in very dimly lit room. He had a strange, floaty feeling, like his body 
was hovering just above the bed. It was not an unpleasant feeling, just 
strange. Concussion, he wondered, or maybe something more? Drugged?

Turning his head cautiously to look around, he did not recognize his 
surroundings. Although sparsely furnished, the room was obviously 
someone's bedroom, definitely not his own and definitely not a hospital 
room. The spacious bed had silver satin sheets, a black velvet 
bedspread and an elegant, wrought iron frame. As he attempted to sit 
up, he discovered that his right wrist was handcuffed to the bedframe. 
His left arm was still free, not that it did him any good, as he could 
barely move it. My shoulder must be separated, he thought, maybe even 
dislocated.

The soft sound of the bedroom door opening alerted him to the arrival 
of his rescuer/captor. Easing himself up on his right elbow, he saw 
Selina Kyle standing in the doorway. She was still wearing her purple 
bodysuit and thigh-high boots, but she had removed her mask and gloves. 
Seeing that he was awake, she slowly stepped into the room and came to 
sit at the foot of the bed. Her eyes watched him intently the entire 
time. 

Forcing himself painfully up to a sitting position, Dick glanced down 
and realized for the first time that he was completely naked, even his 
mask was gone. He could feel a slow blush creep over his face as he 
hastily pulled the covers up to try to cover as much of himself as was 
possible.

Selina smiled at his modesty and deliberately shifted closer to the 
boy. In the dim light of the room, it was hard to get a truly good look 
at him, but she could see that he was a very attractive youth in his 
mid teens. She was surprised to find that he looked vaguely familiar, 
but she couldn't seem to place his face. Oh well, she thought, maybe it 
will come to me later. That's not why I brought him here anyway.

As though following her thoughts, the boy asked, "Where am I?"

"My home, for the time being."

"Why did you bring me here? What do you want?"

"Oh, I don't know. I was bored, lonely. I thought that perhaps if I 
brought you here, your big, hunky boss might follow." 

"He's out of town," Robin lied, trying to sound brusque and capable. 
"That's why I was patrolling alone. If you're planning on waiting for 
him to show up, you might want to order pizza, 'cause you're going to 
have a long wait."

"Out of town?"

"Justice League business."

"Oh, so then he's way out of town. That's too bad." After a moment, she 
looked over at the boy, her eyes suddenly narrowing dangerously, a 
strange fire smoldering in their depths. "So, how old are you?"

"What?" Robin couldn't have explained why that simple question and that 
strange, intense fire in those endlessly green eyes (so much like 
Barbara's) suddenly made his stomach tighten and his palms start to 
sweat.

A slight smug smile tugged at the corners of Selina's mouth. She was 
greatly enjoying the boy's discomfort and she had to admit that not 
only was his face quite nice, but what she had seen of the body he was 
still taking such pains to hide from her, looked to be quite worth the 
effort of further investigation.

"You're what, fourteen…fifteen… sixteen, tops," she said, eyeing him 
shrewdly.

"Fifteen," he breathed.

"Oh, that's plenty old enough."

"For what?" He looked positively panicked.

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," she mumbled. Sliding up to 
him and leaning close, she grasped the back of his head and kissed him 
deeply, probing his mouth with her tongue.

Feelings, thoughts and sensations that he had never experienced before 
began exploding throughout his body and he squirmed to pulled away from 
her. As he did, he leaned back to his left and reflexively put out his 
left hand to brace himself. Stabbing pain shot up his arm into his 
injured shoulder. He cried out sharply and jerked away, curling up into 
a protective ball. As the woman reached out to comfort him, he flinched 
away, still trying to keep the slippery covers in place.

"I don't know why you are so insistent about hiding behind that 
blanket," Selina said. "I was the one who took your clothes off. I've 
already seen everything and trust me, you have no reason to be so 
modest."

She was still leaning quite close and with very gentle hands she helped 
him ease back to a prone position. After several minutes the pain 
subsided and he was able to relax again. The pain had left him 
lightheaded and weak, and it was now replaced by a pleasant numbness. 
He no longer had the strength or wherewithal to try to stop her as 
Selina once again began kissing him. He didn't even put up a fight as 
she slipped her hands under the covers and began to lightly caress his 
bare flesh. 

He was never really sure when Selina stripped her costume off, he only 
knew that she was suddenly there before him, naked and strong, like a 
pagan goddess. Somewhere at the back of his deadened brain, Robin knew 
that he should not be letting this happen, but somehow he couldn't seem 
to summon the will to stop it. She reached out to him and her strong 
hands took him to whole new levels of pleasure, his young, hormone-
steeped body completely at her command.

The pain in his shoulder returned, although not as noticeably, as she 
mounted him. He groaned softly as the pain/pleasure almost made him 
pass out. Their lovemaking seemed to last an eternity to the boy. 
Selina seemed to take a perverse pleasure in jarring his shoulder ever 
so slightly, causing just enough pain to make him gasp. Then she would 
pleasure him almost to the edge, only to bring him back with a dose of 
pain. She manipulated him expertly between the two extremes several 
times before finally allowing him release. They both collapsed 
exhausted and satisfied, and he drifted off to sleep.

His rest was to be only fitful and short-lived. He awoke a short time 
later from a disturbing dream where he had been confronted by a jealous 
Batman. Bruce Wayne had dated Selina Kyle for a time and now Dick had 
been with his guardian's former lover. Selina of course didn't know the 
connection, but Dick did. He felt terrible. How could I do this to him? 

How could I do this to myself? Alfred had been right, a line that 
should not be crossed, had been and now he couldn't go back. Dick had 
always wanted his first time to be with Barbara, but that couldn't 
happen now. He felt that something had been taken from him against his 
will, something precious and irreplaceable. For a moment he thought he 
was going to be physically ill.

Glancing over at Selina who was sleeping peacefully, he noticed that 
she had a couple of bobbypins clinging precariously to her long black 
hair. She probably used the pins to help keep her mask in place and 
forgot to take them out. Rolling onto his right side, Robin reached out 
painfully with his left hand and carefully pulled a hairpin free. 
Selina momentarily opened her eyes and he caressed her face and hair. 
She smiled at him and went back to sleep.

Again, gritting his teeth against the pain, he reached up to the metal 
cuff around his right wrist. Inserting one end of the hairpin into the 
lock he quickly sprung it and quietly eased the cuff off his wrist and 
onto hers. Slowly easing himself out of the bed, he looked around for 
his costume. Finding it folded neatly on a nearby dresser, he dressed 
as quickly as he could manage, considering his shoulder. He was just 
settling his yellow cape into place when he heard Selina moan softly 
from the bed. 

Opening her eyes, she smiled at him. "Oh, you're leav-." 

Abruptly discovering that she was now handcuffed to the bed, she smiled 
lasciviously. "This could be fun too," she said. "Now it's your turn to 
be on top." 

When the boy didn't return her smile or make a move to join her, she 
said, "Oh, I see, that's how it is, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am."

Robin flinched guiltily at that statement. He had never intended to 
ever engage in casual sex, but then he had never intended for this to 
happen either. He still wasn't quite sure how it had. But if Selina 
thought that he was going to let her get away with destroying that fur 
salon just because she had sex with him, she was very much mistaken. 
Bending down and picking up her discarded bodysuit and boots, he tossed 
them over to her.

"I'm calling the police," he said, "you might want to get dressed."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" she asked gesturing to her shackled 
wrist.

"I'm sure you'll manage."

He walked out of the room and found himself in a dingy hallway. At the 
end of this hallway was a large door with a deadbolt lock. This was 
obviously the outside door to the apartment. He was about to go in 
search of a telephone when he heard loud pounding on the door. A loud 
gruff voice from the other side yelled, "Catwoman, it's Batman, I know 
you're in there, and I know that you have Robin. The police have the 
building surrounded. Open the door and let me in. We can talk. If you 
let the boy go now, things will go easier on you."

The boy walked to the door and unlocked the deadbolt. He opened the 
door and found himself looking at a clearly surprised Batman. Robin 
couldn't help but smile. He had never seen Batman look so flustered.

"Robin! Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. How did you find me?"

"The Gotham firefighters arrived just in time to see Catwoman dragging 
you away. I figured that she wouldn't have the strength to drag you 
very far, so I guessed that her lair would be nearby. I enlisted some 
of the Gotham Police Department and we canvassed the area and concluded 
that this empty warehouse was the most likely place for her to hide 
out. Now, where is she?"

"Oh, she's in the other room, handcuffed."

"Good work! Take me there."

Batman followed his young partner back down the hall. Robin slowed his 
pace as they approached the bedroom, quickly glancing in, he was 
relieved to see that Catwoman was once again fully dressed and sitting 
on top of the covers of the bed. The boy couldn't help but wonder how 
she had managed to dress herself one-handed so quickly. He didn't have 
much time to ponder this as Batgirl suddenly burst into the room behind 
them. 

"Robin, are you all right?" she demanded, grasping his shoulders.

When he gasped and quickly pushed her hands away from his left shoulder 
in obvious pain, she said, "My God, what did she do to you?"

"Nothing, I hurt my shoulder when I fell off the roof of the bakery," 
the boy said. He felt himself flush slightly at the look of obvious 
concern on Batgirl's face. "Catwoman actually helped me. She didn't do 
anything to me."

With this last statement he threw a pointed look toward the bed. 
Understanding the implicit command, Catwoman smiled smugly.

"I took very good care of the little birdie," she said. 

"Yes, well, you still blew up the fur salon, destroying millions of 
dollars in merchandise, not to mention endangering the other 
surrounding buildings," Batman said gruffly. "You're going to jail 
Catwoman. Perhaps if you're lucky, the judge will take into account the 
fact that you didn't harm Robin."

***

Back at the Batcave, Batman and Batgirl were laughing excitedly, 
telling Alfred all about Robin's first solo capture. The boy himself 
was very quiet and subdued. He had hardly said a word to Batman during 
the entire trip back to the manor. Batgirl had ridden his motorcycle 
back. His injured shoulder wouldn't allow him to steer the cycle with 
both hands. He was relieved that Batman had seemed inclined to let him 
be silent.

Seeing the boy's somber mood, Alfred did not make a big fuss over him, 
simply saying, "I'm very proud of you, young sir. Now, let's have a 
look at those injuries."

Having picked up a great deal of medical knowledge over the years of 
fixing up Bruce, Alfred examined Dick's shoulder and pronounced it only 
separated, not dislocated. He also found that the boy had only a mild 
concussion. There would be no need to summon Dr. Tomkins. 

While Alfred devised a sling for Dick's arm, Barbara came over to help 
him. Seeing the long, nasty cut on the boy's leg, she took a cotton 
swab, soaked it with antiseptic and reached out to clean the cut. The 
boy slapped her hand away.

"Don't touch me!" he snapped.

"But, Dick, I'm just trying to help," she said.

"I'm fine, I don't need your help."

Barbara was about to ask what was wrong, but she caught Bruce out of 
the corner of her eye, shaking his head. Turning back to Dick, the boy 
wouldn't even look at her. With a wounded look, she backed away from 
him. 

"Well, I guess I should get home before my dad does. Good night, " she 
said.

Bruce and Alfred both said good night. Dick was conspicuously silent.

Alfred stood and cleared his throat. "Come Lad, let's get you upstairs 
and into bed."

"Yes, sir," Dick said, climbing a bit unsteadily to his feet.

The elderly butler slipped an arm under the boy's good shoulder and 
helped him up the stairs to the manor. Leaving Dick at his room, Alfred 
went to the medicine cabinet to look for some painkillers for the boy. 
When he got back to Dick's room, he found the boy sitting on his bed 
wearing a t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, staring at the cut on his 
leg. He was picking at it in morbid fascination and it had started to 
bleed again.

Returning to the medicine cabinet, Alfred grabbed a bottle of peroxide 
and some cotton swabs. The boy was still staring at the wound when he 
returned. Setting the peroxide on the nightstand, he sat down beside 
the boy. 

"Master Dick, why don't you let me clean that up for you," he said 
gently. "It will heal better that way and we wouldn't want it to leave 
a scar, would we?"

Looking up at the man who was the closest thing to a grandfather that 
he had ever known, Dick knew that he wasn't just talking about the cut 
on his leg. 

"No, we wouldn't," he said.

Alfred soaked a piece of cotton with peroxide and was about to start 
cleaning the cut when he stopped. "Oh, I forgot, you don't want to be 
treated like a child anymore. Perhaps I should let you clean it."

"No, it's okay," Dick said quickly. "I don't mind."

"Very well, sir."

Sensing movement behind him, Alfred glanced over his shoulder to see 
Bruce standing in the doorway. Dick was too preoccupied to notice his 
silent guardian. Alfred turned his attention back to the boy and 
continued with his task. When he finished cleaning the cut, he applied 
a liberal amount of anti-bacterial ointment.

"There we are, all finished." 

He started to stand, but the boy stopped him.

"Alfred, could you stay for a few minutes?"

"Of course, sir. Is there something you'd like to talk about?"

"No, I just don't want to be alone right now." Dick had to take a deep 
breath to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill forth.

"It's all right, sir," Alfred said, gently pulling the boy into his 
arms, mindful of his shoulder, "Everything is going to be all right."

Alfred glanced over his shoulder at Bruce again, hoping that he would 
take this opportunity to reach out to the boy, to try to solidify their 
sometimes tenuous bond. But Bruce only stood watching sadly.

Bruce knew that he should probably go to the boy, try to find out what 
had happened tonight that had so obviously upset him. But as usual, 
when these kinds of situations arose, he felt completely inadequate. He 
was painfully aware that dealing with the emotional aspects of things 
was not his strength and he was always afraid that his clumsy attempts 
at helping would only make the situation worse.

It appeared that Alfred had the situation under control. There was no 
point in overwhelming the boy, Bruce told himself. That justification 
sounded lame, even to himself. What is the matter with me? Why is it 
that I can face certain death at the hands of psychopaths night after 
night, but I can't seem to face the unshed tears of the most important 
person in my life? Feeling like a complete coward, he turned and walked 
to his own room.

~Fin~