Rites of Passage
by Lyssa (lyssachelle@hotmail.com)

***

"There must come a moment when all your mirrors turn into windows. That 
is the moment of growing up. The adolescent looks inward; the adult can 
look outward."

---Pamela Franklin

***

Childhood is supposed to be the happiest time of your life. My 
childhood was spent as part of a team, first as a Flying Grayson and then 
as Robin, Batman’s partner. Half of it was spent flying through the air, 
the other in a cave beneath the ground. Split between highwires and 
rooftops, cheering crowds and swearing crooks, bright shining lights and 
deep consuming darkness. My childhood didn’t end when I got my license, or 
when I was eighteen, or even when I was old enough to drink. No, the 
beginning of the end of my childhood started before those milestones were 
ever reached. Dad used to say, "You’re never truly a man until you get 
your heart broken by a woman." Funny how your parents are always right 
about things.

We had just stomped a jewel thief. He’d been especially clever, a 
difficult one to catch. It was one of those fun cases that you’re glad to 
work on. No children involved, no murder or abuse; just plain old robbery 
and enough of a fight to get the adrenaline flowing. 

Barbara and I always worked well together. Not as fluidly as Bruce and 
I, but a solid unit. Watching her in action was almost distracting. What 
she lacked in technique, she made up for in style and enthusiasm. At times 
I was tempted to just sit back and let her beat the bad guys. I’m sure she 
would have welcomed the challenge.

We settled in our usual spot, an alcove atop Wayne Tower. We often met 
there to discuss strategy, or to just talk. Batman was out of the country 
on Bruce Wayne business, so I didn’t have anywhere to be but with Barbara. 
She scooted in beside me and then flashed me a grin. I knew she still the 
rush of adrenaline and excitement from the fight. I was the first to 
speak.

"Whomped ‘em pretty good huh?"

Babs leaned back and stretched. I tried my best to be a gentleman and 
not stare.

"Definitely," she said, with a smug smile.

"I thought I would bust up laughing when you tied that guy upside down 
to that pole."

"I know! And then he kept screaming, ‘Let me down, let me down, my head 
will explode!!’" Barbara and I laughed. It was so easy to make fun of the 
criminals once the threat was over. Barbara let out a long sigh.

"Whew. What a wuss. By the way Short Pants, I win."

"You do not!"

"I do too. I handled three more baddies than you did."

"Three isn’t that much," I grumbled. 

"It’s enough. You would have gotten more if you weren’t showing off 
with all that fancy cartwheel stuff."

I knew she was just trying to get my goat, she always was a bit jealous 
that I was a better gymnast than she was. Sometimes the teasing worked and 
a mini argument would ensue, but that night I was in too good of a mood to 
take the bait. I leaned back next to her.

"That fancy cartwheel stuff saved your sorry butt from getting clocked 
with a tire iron."

Barbara’s sassy grin turned into a soft smile.

"I know. Thanks Boy Wonder."

She leaned over and kissed me lightly on the lips.

It wasn’t the first time. Barbara was naturally affectionate and even 
more so as Batgirl. It seemed to me that her mask let her be more open 
than she was out of costume. Not that she wasn’t always professional, but 
when we were alone she was apt to give tight hugs or quick excited smacks 
on the cheek or lips. Though they were only friendly shows of affection, I 
savored each one. They fueled the fantasies that kept me up late at night, 
fantasies I never had the nerve enough to try and make come true.

But this kiss was different. Maybe it was the excitement of the night, 
but there was something else mixed in with the gratitude and affection 
behind it. That little something was enough for me to become brave and 
bring my hand up to her face and deepen the kiss. In the space of a 
heartbeat I felt her stiffen in surprise and then return it. 

A second later she pulled away, but I knew I had felt her respond, I 
*knew* it. We stared off in silence for a few long awkward moments. I 
started to question my actions. Had I gone too far? Was I wrong, did I 
cross some invisible line? Why wasn’t she saying anything?? Finally she 
spoke, her voice soft and unsteady.

"Wow, Short Pants. Did they teach you that in Gotham Academy or does 
that come natural?" 

"Dammit Barbara." 

I stood and walked a few feet away, my back to her. Embarrassment and 
fury coursed through me like liquid fire. With one sentence she had made 
me feel like a fumbling child. I stood there so long that I thought maybe 
she had left; but I could still hear her breathing and the soft rustle of 
her cape as she shifted.

I thought about just shooting off my line and swinging away from the 
building, Barbara and my humiliation. I was just about to do so when I 
felt her hand on my shoulder. I flinched and she sighed and dropped her 
arm.

"I...I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. I didn’t know, I-" 

I cut her off, still facing the Gotham skyline.

"How could you not know? I find every excuse to spend time with you. I 
make up reasons for you to help me with homework that I understand better 
than you. I offer to teach you moves just so I can be near you! I bend 
over backwards to impress *you*! How could you *not* know?"

My voice rose as I spoke, getting louder and more furious until I was 
almost shouting. Years of frustration and pain rose to the surface. Years 
of being as obvious as I dared, of waiting for just to right moment to 
tell her how I felt and never getting it, years of wanting. 

"I...I don’t know. I’m sorry Robin," Barbara sounded stunned. She’d 
rarely seen me angry and she’d certainly never been the focus of that 
anger. I spun around.

"No. *Not* Robin. That was *me* kissing you! Dick!"

I reached up and ripped off my eye mask, grimacing as the spirit gum 
pulled at my skin. Barbara softly gasped. I was breaking one of our major 
rules, but I didn’t care. I yanked off my gloves and then slowly pulled 
off Barbara’s mask, revealing those clear green cat eyes that fascinated 
me so much. 

"Dick and Barbara," I said. "Not Robin and Batgirl."

She caught my hand as I reached up to touch her face.

"Dick...if I was 15 I’d be swooning right now. But I’m an adult and I 
have to act like one and use my head on this. I shouldn’t have done that, 
I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was wrong." 

"It didn’t feel wrong."

"Dick, you’re 16. You’re too young."

"I’m old enough to risk my neck every night chasing criminals around 
the city. I’m old enough to be a leader of a group that’s fought some of 
the most dangerous villains in the world. I’m also old enough to know how 
I feel. Don’t patronize me Barbara," I said firmly. All the anger had 
drained out of me and left me bone-tired, but I still refused to be 
treated like a child. 

She stepped closer, her eyes starting to look unnaturally bright. In 
any other circumstances, I would have cut off my arm rather than make her 
cry. But this was too long coming. Everything I’d kept bottled up needed 
to be said.

"I’m not being patronizing Dick, I’m just telling you how things are! 
You are more mature than most grown men I know, but you’re still underage. 
If I show any type of romantic or sexual feelings for you, that makes me a 
pedophile and a pervert!"

I yanked a hand through my hair. I heard every word she was saying, but 
in my childish arrogance, I chose to ignore them. Something about the way 
she said that last sentence have me hope. I closed the gap between us and 
took her hand in mine and held it to my chest. She tried to pull away, but 
it was a half-hearted attempt. We stood there like that for a few 
heartbeats. Barbara broke the silence with a choked sob, her tears finally 
spilling over. 

"Please Dick. You’ve had to grow up so fast. Don’t rush something like 
this. You deserve a girl your age."

She grasped my hand as she spoke, a tearful tremor underscoring every 
word. Something inside me stabbed at my chest as I watched her cry. I’d 
never seen her like this and it shamed me to be the cause, but at the same 
time I felt a thrill. She hadn’t denied any feelings for me, yet she 
didn’t admit them either. As she pleaded with me to hold on to my 
childhood, I knew *something* was there. 

I reached up with my free hand and ran my fingers along the side of her 
neck, letting them settle just under her hair. She closed her eyes and bit 
her lip.

"Barbara. I know what laws and morals and Bruce and your father and 
everybody else say. I know what I feel for you is supposed to be wrong, 
but I don’t care. Something like this, that I’ve felt for *so* long, can’t 
be immoral. I refuse to believe that. You go through enough shit in your 
life and you learn to hang on to what feels good. You feel good to me 
Barbara. Loving you feels good to me."

Her eyes widened as we both realized what I had just said. I plunged 
on, know I’d gone too far to go back now.

"I love you Barbara. Please, let me love you."

My voice hitched as I finally spoke out loud what I’d felt almost since 
I’d laid eyes on her. We stood there on that chilly roof, our bodies a 
breath away and I said,

"Please. If you don’t feel the same, tell me to go away. Tell me you 
don’t love me...and I’ll leave."

I leaned in closer to her. She shook her head from side to side and 
whispered, "I can’t, I can’t...." over and over again so softly I almost 
didn’t hear her. Not sure what she meant, I moved in even closer and 
pressed her mouth to mine and my heart stopped.

We stood there, clinging to each other for what seemed an eternity. 
Barbara gave in with a kind of sweet surrender and I took everything she 
offered. I told her with that kiss what I couldn’t with words. I poured 
out all my loneliness and pain and want and need into that one kiss. 

Finally we pulled apart and stood with our foreheads touching, still 
wrapped up in each other and gasping for air. Barbara was shaking, as was 
I. I needed *something* from her, something I couldn’t quite define. I 
couldn’t think. All I knew was I’d never felt anything so all-consuming in 
my entire life. Everything else faded into the background and all that was 
left was this beautiful woman and a sense of happiness I hadn’t felt in a 
long time. Barbara’s next words shattered everything.

"Go away Dick."

I didn’t comprehend what she was saying and reached for her again. She 
stepped back a few feet, her voice taking on a harder tone.

"You have to go away Dick. This was wrong and it can’t happen 
again."

I was crushed. I felt as if I'd been floating, and then suddenly, I was 
plummeting from those dizzying heights into despair. Somehow, I knew that 
I’d ruined our friendship that night and it would never be the same. 
Though I had little experience, I knew for certain from our kiss that 
she’d felt everything I felt, that she loved me too. I know now that the 
difference between us was that she had loved me enough to keep our 
relationship a friendship, so that I wouldn’t be hurt by something she 
knew could never happen. I, on the other hand, was selfish. I wanted her 
and damn the consequences. I know that *now*, but *then* I only knew that 
she was breaking my heart. So I got mean. 

"No Barbara. *You* go. I’m not going to be the one to ruin this. If you 
don’t care about me enough and aren’t brave enough to overlook people’s 
opinion of you, then you go. And don’t think I’ll come running back when 
I’m "old enough" for you."

If she was going to be noble and sacrifice us for other’s ideals, I 
wasn’t going to make it easy on her. I steeled myself, defiant in my 
anger. We stood and stared at each other, our eyes begging the other’s not 
to do this. Finally Barbara turned and walked towards the ledge. "She’s 
leaving," I thought wildly, unable to believe she could actually go. I ran 
after her, catching her arm.

"Barbara. I love you."

She squeezed her eyes shut and held them for a moment. Then she opened 
them and pulled on her mask. Smiling sadly at me, she reached up and 
brushed my hair back from my forehead.

"I know Dick. But you can’t."

She then shot off her line and swung out into the darkness.

With surprisingly steady hands, I reapplied my mask and pulled on my 
gloves. I gave her another few minutes head start and then shot off my own 
hook. I told myself I’d patrol for another hour and then I’d go home to my 
bed at Wayne Manor. Then, and only then, would I allow myself to cry. 

Fin