Disclaimer:  I don't own any of these characters.  I'm not even saying I do.  
Please don't hurt me!

***

Think I Got One On My Backie
By Paige Hanson (moon345@earthlink.net)

***

	The caped teen flopped down in the chair provided and let out a sigh.  It 
was that great type of sigh that teenagers have worked to a perfection, and if 
it hadn't been the current Boy Wonder who had uttered it, Barbara would probably 
had just written it off as hormones.

	"Bad day, Tim?"

	Robin tugged at one of his sleeves absently.  He didn't speak for a 
moment, but when he answered the question he only said,  "This is a tough 
business, Babs."  It wasn't a whine, just a tiredly spoken statement.

	Barbara turned her gaze away from her typing to Robin.  "I'm going to take 
that as a yes."  Searching for what to say, she continued.  "It /is/ a tough 
business.  Having to keep so many secrets isn't fun at all, obviously.  So much 
lying and keeping up appearances just is too time consuming and frustrating."

	The masked youth nodded in agreement.  "I agree there, but - "

	*Deet*  

	"Hold that thought, kiddo."  Barbara glanced back at the screen she was 
sitting in front of and hit a key.  "Black Canary, what's up?"

	"Chinese food," was the reply over the speakers.

	"Chinese food?"

	"Where is there a good Chinese take-out here?"

	While Tim listened to the exchange, he tugged at his collar, scratching 
under it with a look of utter discomfort on his face.

	"Dinah, you're in France.  There's tons of great dishes there that -,"

	"But I have a craving for Chinese," the woman argued.

	Barbara held back a laugh.  "I can't believe I'm doing this," she added as 
she worked her magic.  "Happy?" the redhead asked as she sent the information to 
Dinah.

	"Very.  Thanks!"

	"Oracle out."  Barbara turned back to look at Tim.  "It's an aggravating 
business, too.  Do I look like a restaurant directory?"

	Tim shook his head, abandoning his collar.  "You do not look like a 
restaurant directory."

	"Anyway, I can understand if you're frustrated with all the secrets we 
have to keep."

	"Well, actually -,"  Tim stopped mid sentence and swung his head around to 
look at the person who had seemingly come out of nowhere.

	Batgirl moved closer to the two, not saying a word.  Which was usually 
just the way she liked it.  Reaching for her utility belt, she opened a pouch 
and pulled out of small slide, protected by a clear casing.  "Batman sent."

	Babs took the slide and looked at it, wondering why Batman sent it to her 
when the Batcave was fully equipped with the tools to analyze it. 

	"You do it...," Batgirl searched for the right word.  "Personally," she 
finished.

	Still confused, Barbara set the slide down and went to set up the 
spectroscope.  Because there was a slightly bluish scraping on the slide and not 
a piece of hair or fabric, she figured Batman just wanted a spectrum analysis.  
She was rather ticked off, because she didn't have the stuff she needed out and 
ready to use.  And Batman should have known that.

	 Meanwhile, Batgirl had turned to stare at Robin, who was trying to reach 
and itch a spot on his back.

	"Need help?"  she asked.

	"No, I'm fine, Batgirl,"  Babs muttered, silently calling Batman a couple 
of choice words.

	Tim and Batgirl ignored her for the moment, and the Boy Wonder nodded, 
letting his peer scratch his back.  Tim sighed in relief, ignoring the fact that 
he knew scratching would only make the problem worse.

	Barbara looked up from the table she was at and saw the pair that for all 
the world looked like monkeys grooming each other.  "What..."  Barbara looked at 
the two, an eyebrow raised.  Tim jerked, looking startled, while Batgirl just 
calmly stopped her scratching.

	"I go..." Cassandra mimed holding a glass and drinking from it, going as 
far as to make an "ahh" sound after finishing, and then left the control room.

	Barbara fixed her full attention on Tim, one eyebrow still arched.  "Do I 
want to know?" she asked.

	"Probably not, but because I already -,"

	*Deet*

	Tim glared at the computer, and watched as Barbara decided she needed to 
check the Oracle line before she needed to know why Tim was getting back 
scratches from butt-kicking teenage girls.  

	"Superman, yes.  I did check that out, and...,"

	Tim took Babs' conversation with the Man of Steel as an opportunity to 
attack his right leg with a vengeance, trying to scratch through the kevlar.

	"Correct.  There were only three reported, but there were four others that 
weren't.  I can send you the information on those along with..."

	Tim started on his left leg, looking for a pencil or pen to get into his 
boot.

	At this point, Batgirl returned from getting her drink of water, and once 
more offered her services.  

	"Oracle out."  Barbara cut the connection and looked back at Tim to find 
that Batgirl and Robin had taken on the mission on scratching Tim's rear.  Both 
caught sight of Babs and stopped for the second time that night.

	"Okay..."  Barbara wisely decided not to ask this time.

	"Bye,"  Batgirl stated, already leaving.

	"Uh huh."  Barbara picked up the slide Batgirl had brought and moved it to 
the table she was now at.

	"Um...about our earlier conversation -,"

	"Right.  This being a tough business," Babs cut in.  "It's not the secrets 
and the sneaking around?"

	"Not right now.  I mean, yeah, that's a huge downside to this job.  But 
there're other things too."

	Barbara nodded sympathetically.  "It'd hard to maintain a relationship in 
this line of work.  And stressing, knowing someone you care about could get 
hurt."  Barbara's eyes glazed over as she got rutted in her thoughts.  "And the 
emergency calls at three in the morning are never fun.  And the boss can be a 
jerk."

	Tim patiently let the Oracle rant until she snapped out of it and looked 
back at him.  "Sorry, Tim."

	"That's okay."  Now that Barbara had brought up a whole plethora of things 
that made the superhero world seem harder, Tim felt even more depressed.   Which 
made his armpit itch.  "But I wasn't really going for the relationship or Batman 
angle.  It's more -,"

	"Timmy!"  a voice sounded out, making a cheap imitation of the like-named 
character from South Park.

	"Oh, Lord help me,"  Babs sighed.

	"Hey, Nightwing," Tim replied, sneaking a quick scratch to his hand.

	Nightwing, who had strode into the control room from God-knows-where had, 
by far, the goofiest grin Barbara had seen on the vigilante's face all week.  
And that was saying something.  He snapped a salute to Tim and spun on his heels 
to face Barbara.	

	"Where did you come from?"  she asked, hiding her amusement.

	"My mother's tummy."

	Tim held back a laugh.

	"You've been inside awhile, haven't you?  Sneaking around the apartment."

	Dick gasped, a very convincing reaction to the very idea that what his 
girlfriend was saying was true.  Then, slipping back into an easy smile, he 
shrugged.  "Yeah, well, I did stop in the kitchen.  Had to finish off those 
mashed potatoes you made last week.  I used them as dip for cheese puffs."

	"Dick, that's gross.  And quit having Batgirl send me 'slides from Batman' 
with the new jello flavor on them."

	"No kisses, then?"

	"We'll see."

	"So,"  Dick said, turning around to look at Tim, who had to quickly stop 
scratching his stomach.  "What's new with the Boy Wonder?"

	"He and Batgirl were scratching each other.  Or, at least, scratching 
Tim."

	Dick blinked.  "I though you and Ste -,"

	"Dick?"

	"Hmm?"

	"Don't bother," Tim finished.

	"Look at the abuse I'm taking!  And I came with a good purpose in mind, 
too!"

	"Which was..."  Barbara spoke up and Dick had to turn around again to face 
her.  

	"This."  Dick grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and scrawled a few lines 
onto it.  "That's where we're going next Friday.  Plenty of time in advance for 
you to not send the Canary to Timbuktu that day."

	Babs scrutinized the paper.  "Is that a 'y' or a 'b'?"

	The young man glanced down.  "It's a wanna 'b'!"  Dick cackled madly.  
"Get it?"

	"Out!"  Barbara laughed.

	After sneaking a kiss, but before he was completely gone, Dick said to the 
teen itching his neck.  "Abstinence is the only way to avoid itchies like that, 
kid!"
	Tim was too disturbed to come up with a reply.

	Barbara turned her chair to face Tim full on.  "All right, Boy Wonder.  
What's the deal?"

	Tim wondered how it had gotten to this point and sighed.  "I said when I 
came in that this was a tough business."

	"Right.  And you said it wasn't the lying and secrets, or the sneaking 
around, or relationship problems or Batman getting you down."

	Tim scratched his chest for a second and nodded.

	"Is it juggling school and crime-fighting?  You can always talk to Dick 
about the whole high school vigilante deal."

	Tim thought about this for a moment and felt another wave of depression 
hit him, not at all related to the reason he felt rotten in the first place.  
"I'm going to be one of those adults who say, "I was never a kid," aren't I?"

	"Oh, Tim."  Barbara reached for the teen's hand and sighed.  "You just 
need to get a grip on your stress sometimes."

	Tim looked at Babs, and the woman caught his meaning and laughed.  "Okay, 
okay, I'm being a hypocrite."

	Tim smiled weakly.  "S'okay.  But again, that's not why I'm here."

	One computer geek stared at the other and decided to ask right out,  "All 
right, Karate Kid.  What's the problem?"

	"My costume."

	Barbara nodded sympathetically.  "Oh, I agree tota -,"  Her perfect look 
of sympathy turned to one of confusion.  "What?"

	"My costume.  You know a few days back when it was raining really hard and 
I was out on patrol?"

	"Uh huh."	

	"And when the rain stopped it was really humid?"

	"Yes..."

	"Well, I had to sit in wet kevlar for hours in that humidity.  And I don't 
know if you know this, but the fabric already irritates my skin sometimes.  The 
result wasn't pretty.  You should see my rash."	

	Barbara paused for a minute, in which her glasses had time to slip off her 
face and into her lap without her noticing, and from there fall to the ground.  
Tim started to take off his boot to show Barbara.

	"Out!"

-fin-