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randomplaces2017-06-14 09:34 pm
random_xtras) wrote in randomplaces2017-06-14 09:34 pm
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Futureknight Chapter 4
"Hey, Dave, let's blow this joint."
David shook his head without looking away from the dance floor. "No chance, Gordo."
"None 'a these rich chicks wanna dance with a cop." His best friend, Detective Gordon Montoya, complained quietly, swirling his martini in one hand.
"Maybe if you weren't so infamous." David cocked an eye at him. "How can a black belt at Capoeira be that much of a toe-stomper?"
Gordon scowled, then looked hopeful as a young lovely paused to take in his dark eyes and broad shoulders.
The girl smiled at him, then turned and walked toward the huge wall banner that announced the fourteenth annual Gotham Orphan's Society Easter ball.
Gordon sighed. "Too young. I may be an old bachelor, but I'm an old bachelor with morals."
David chuckled. "I wondered why I hung out with you. Guess that's it."
"Nah." Gordon snagged another martini from a passing tray. "You hang out with me to continue the long tradition of friendship between the Montoyas and the Bullocks."
"Long tradition?" David wrinkled his nose as the band started playing a slow dance.
"Hey, our families've been hanging out since Jim Gordon had your job," said Gordon, tugging on his tie. "That was a long time ago. They actually made cops drive ground cars and expected them to get places in time."
David chuckled. "Well, it looks like the tradition's coming to an end, 'cause it's just us 'old bachelors' left." He paused as he caught sight of something on the other side of the dance floor.
Gordon's smile faded. "Yeah... Steph was gonna say yes."
"I know. God had other ideas, I guess." David set his drink down, remembering Gordon's younger sister and her bright smile.
"Stinking drunk driver." Gordon blinked and looked toward the bar.
"Don't do it." David turned back and caught his wrist. "Stick with the soft stuff."
"I am." Gordon stuck his hands in his pockets, head bowed.
"Excuse me." The voice was young and full of concern. "Is something wrong?"
David started and looked down, his eyes meeting the bright blue ones of a boy of maybe six. "No. Nothing's wrong."
"Aren't you a little young to be up this late?" Gordon hunkered down to talk to the child.
"I'm here with Ronnie. We always go to this ball together." The boy raised one eyebrow and smiled slightly, then offered a hand. "I'm Clark Kent."
"Gord Montoya." Gordon shook, looking nonplussed. "This is my buddy, Dave Freeman."
The police Commissioner." Clark's smile widened into a cheerful grin. "I've seen you on TV."
"Yeah?" David smiled back uncertainly, wondering how old the boy really was.
"Yeah! You work with Batman!"
Gordon laughed and looked up at David. "I knew it couldn't be your heroic exploits."
Clark gave him a slight frown, then looked up brightly as a woman stopped next to them. "Miss Free, is Ronnie looking for me?"
"Yes." She smiled as Gordon straightened hastily and blinked at the realization that she was nearly a head taller than him. "But you could introduce me to your friends before you go."
Clark's grin came back full force. "Sure. This is Gordon Montoya and David Freeman. Mr. Montoya, Commissioner Freeman, this is Diana Free."
"It's a pleasure to meet you." Diana smiled, her dark eyes fixed on Gordon's.
"Yeah," he said dazedly. "Uh, would you like to dance?"
Diana winced, one hand coming up to fiddle with the bodice of her dark green silk dress. "I don't think you want to do that. I tend to step on toes."
"That's okay, so do I." He offered her his arm and an engaging smile.
Diana laughed and lay a strong but shapely hand on his arm. "Let's go cripple one another then."
David blinked as he watched them stop on the dance floor, dark heads bowed together as they tried to figure out what they were doing, then looked down and discovered that he'd been totally abandoned.
Shaking his head slowly, he glanced around and then made his way to where Clark stood in the shadow of the wall drapes, his hand lying protectively on that of the woman in the electric wheelchair next to him. The woman herself seemed to be hiding, not from fear, but rather from a desire to quietly observe everything that was going on. She wore a simple black dress with long sleeves and a skirt that reached past her knees, and a pair of jeweled sandals that showed off rather pretty feet. The colour of the dress contrasted gently with the strange shimmer of her skin, which combined with a pair of warm grey eyes to give her the look of some exotic fairy creature from one of the prints that Steph had collected.
Shimmer… He frowned, then blinked as his mind made the connection. "I didn't know you came to gigs like this, Miss Grayson."
She looked up with a shy smile. "This cause is dear to my heart. Having Gotham's most famous recluse attend the ball brings more help for the kids."
"Ah." He glanced at Clark, wondering how the kid could look that dignified and sober with that much mischief shining in his eyes.
* * *
"You're terrible." Ronnie looked at her ward with a chuckle as he came to stand next to her.
"Di's happy," he said contentedly. "So's Detective Montoya."
"You're too young to play matchmaker."
He shrugged and put his hand on the one that lay on the arm of her wheelchair. "They're happy. I don't like seeing Di look so lonely all the time. Detective Montoya's a good guy."
"Yes, he is." Ronnie watched as he nearly wiped out and Diana caught him.
"Here comes the Commish." Clark fell silent as David stopped in front of her.
"I didn't know you came to gigs like this, Miss Grayson." He gave her a quizzical smile.
"This cause is dear to my heart," she said, musing at how different he looked in a tuxedo. "Having Gotham's most famous recluse attend the ball brings more help for the kids."
"Ah."
She watched as he glanced at Clark, taking in the way his green tie brought out the colour of his eyes and accented his copper skin. -I wonder what his curls would feel like? Yike, did I just think that? Oh, I've been watching Uncle Lobo and Aunt Star too much.-
Then she realized that she was staring and that he was looking back quizzically.
"Sorry." She dropped her eyes, feeling her cheeks warm.
"It's alright." He glanced at her drink. "So you're a patron of the Orphan's Society?"
"I'm the founder." She looked at the drink herself, feeling the usual awkwardness at being around non-family rise up inside her.
"Oh." He pulled a chair over and set it slightly in front of and facing her. "That's really cool."
She glanced up curiously as he sat down. "Thank you... You spend a lot of time around people in wheelchairs?"
"My grandmother used one," he said softly, face clouding slightly.
"I forgot." She could have kicked herself. "I'm sorry. I saw what happened in the news."
"It's alright. She's in a better place" He reached up to finger a tiny cross on his lapel.
"She was a believer." Ronnie felt Clark lean against her shoulder comfortingly.
"In Jesus. Yeah." He smiled slightly without looking up. "He was part of everything she did. My dad used to joke that she lived, ate, and slept the Lord."
Ronnie glanced at Clark, not sure what to say. "She sounds like a good person."
David snorted with laughter. "I used to doubt that when I was a kid. I don't think I ever got a cookie before dinner. Just a lot of sore knuckles."
Ronnie chuckled despite herself. "She sounds like my butler."
"Yeah?" He looked up with interest.
"Yes. I remember one time my uncle came to argue the no snacks rule and she gave him a spinning snap kick to the head."
"Ouch." David whistled. "Violent."
Ronnie blinked, realizing that she'd said too much. "Er. He can be rather..."
"Pig-headed?" offered Clark innocently.
"Yes." She quirked an eyebrow at him and fell silent, wishing she could escape and go home.
"Honorary uncle, right?" David scratched his head. "I've got one like that. My mom had to pull her gun on him to make him get away from the TV after his team lost the Superbowl one time."
Ronnie blinked again, feeling glad that Lobo had never taken an interest in Terran sports. "When is your grandmother's funeral?"
"She didn't want one." He glanced over his shoulder as laughter came from the dance floor. "They cremated her body this morning."
"Oh." Ronnie frowned at her drink again, then looked up as camera flashes went off and saw Gordon trying to help Diana fix her hair.
David chuckled as his friend got a hair clip on the fingers and yelped. "This is the happiest I've seen Gord in years."
"Oh dear." Ronnie watched as Diana's hair tumbled down again, feeling mortified at all the attention the pair were drawing to themselves.
David turned back to her. "What's wrong?"
"They're..." Ronnie fought off the urge to hide her face as Gordon pretended to read the clip its rights, looking pleased at Diana's laughter.
"They're gonna be on a lotta news sites tomorrow," said Clark, grinning at their antics.
"Oh dear," agreed Ronnie, feeling herself blush in sympathetic embarrassment, though Diana and Gordon seemed oblivious of everything but one another.
"Hey." David put his hand over the one that held her glass. "It isn't bothering them. Not everyone appreciates the comfort of the shadows."
Ronnie barely heard him. She was transfixed but the way her hand seemed to be tingling with electricity so that the hair on her arms stood on end. His hand… it feels so…
"Are you cold?" He took it away.
"I… what?" She looked up, face flaming now.
"You're shivering," he said gently, his eyes locking with hers.
Breathe, she thought. Breathe… how can eyes be that beautiful? No! Stop it!
She looked away, pulling the Bat persona over herself like a shield. "Excuse me, please. I think I need to visit the powder room."
"Uh… yeah. Yeah, you want me to hold your drink?" David cleared his throat.
"Thank you." She handed it over, then turned her chair and fled.
* * *
"Ronnie doesn't get out very often," said Clark apologetically. "She's really nice."
"Huh?" David blinked and stared at him blankly.
"You're blushing too." Clark's eyebrows went up.
David blinked again and knocked back the drink, then rubbed his face. "Yeah."
"You like her, don't you?" Clark grinned widely, eyes dancing.
"I just met her," growled David, then looked at the boy's crestfallen expression and relented. "Yeah, I do." He lifted his hand and clenched it gently, remembering how hers had felt inside it. "She's beautiful. But someone like her wouldn't want anything to do with someone like me."
"Sure she would." Clark gave a happy little bounce, then pulled a card out of his pocket and offered it to him hopefully. "She doesn't like meat or ice cream, or anything sweet. And she doesn't really like cut flowers, 'cause they die. But she really likes going through gardens and stuff. And she watches 'Cat's Eye' 'n 'Larryboy' 'n 'Epsilon V'."
David stared at him. "Are you playing matchmaker?"
Clark tried very hard to look totally innocent, but the flush on his cheeks ruined the effect. "Um… excuse me, I-gotta-go-the-bathroom!"
David watched him scamper away, then looked down at the card in his hand and felt surprised that he'd taken it.
He shook his head, then frowned and blinked away deja-vu as something in the way Clark had spoken poked at his mind.
"Hey, Dave, you alright?" Gordon stopped next to him, one hand wrapped in a napkin.
"Yeah," said David absently. "Just a little confused."
* * *
"I'm so confused." Ronnie rubbed her face with shaking hands.
"What happened?" asked the tall brunette sitting on the counter.
"He touched my hand and it was like my nervous system was being overloaded or something. The life support module even kicked in because I was having trouble catching my breath." Ronnie slumped against the backrest, feeling slightly dazed.
Jen J'ones chuckled. "It's about time."
Ronnie quirked an eyebrow at her.
"It's just a crush." Jen smiled at her encouragingly. "Lots of good feelings and a slight distraction when the guy's not around."
"I can't afford to be distracted right now," growled Ronnie. "I just found out that this case has extended to Bludhaven. You have to think of some way to get Rich away. A holiday."
Jen shook her head. "No chance."
"What do you mean? You've implanted suggestions before."
"Yes, I have. But Rich has important business that he can't leave right now," said Jen softly.
"What business? Why can't Jono take care of it?" demanded Ronnie. "He's Rich's right hand man, he can do anything Rich can."
"Not this." Jen shook her head.
"Why not?"
"Why did your uncle decide to keep Rich in the dark about his other job? And why didn't Prudence tell him after everyone died?" Jen asked evenly. "He's descended from Bruce Wayne. Shouldn't he have gotten your position?"
Ronnie frowned at the seeming change in topic, her mind trying to figure out the connection. "Prudence said that he hated the people who did that sort of job. I can remember her trying to bring it up the time he came to see me in the hospital and him brushing it off. She decided to keep it from him after that so that he wouldn't lose respect for Uncle James."
Jen idly poked a finger into the marble of the countertop, shielding the action from the security cameras with her body. -Did you know that the last Nightwing had taken on a junior partner?-
Ronnie flinched at the strange sensation of someone else's thoughts in her mind. "Don't do that."
"You didn't. I bet Prudence didn't either."
"No. I didn't," said Ronnie impatiently. "Where are you..." Her mind made the connection and she blinked. "Frag."
-Silver Bat,- affirmed Jen softly, and Ronnie was too stunned to protest. -I found out when I ghosted through the back of his closet one night after he got out of the apartment without me knowing.-
Ronnie stared at her.
"I was with him the night you tried to tell him to stay away from the case." Jen glanced up as another woman came into the bathroom and paused to look in the mirror.
Ronnie leaned her forehead on her hand, feeling tears running down her cheeks. "I was trying to protect him."
"He knows. He's not mad." Jen slid off the counter and came to kneel next to her and hug her gently.
"I feel so stupid. Why didn't he say anything?" Ronnie lifted her head and let it fall against the back of her chair as the other woman turned and went into a stall.
"You were happy with how things were, and that made him happy." Jen handed her a tissue. "He knows you're an adult now, but he still sees you as that cute little toddler he's holding in the picture on his mantle."
"I used to adore him," Ronnie remembered. "It hurt when he never came to see me while they were rebuilding my nervous system."
"He was a little busy taking care of two cities at night and trying to play a normal teenager during the day," said Jen gently. "And he didn't want to make you wonder why he came and your parents didn't."
Ronnie sighed, her eyes on her days at Star Labs. Most of what she could remember was Lobo telling her stories and holding her, though there were a few memories of Con, Vendea, and Star. And at least one birthday party. "No one told me they were dead till I was seven." -By then I was used to them being gone.-
She rubbed her eyes and looked at her fingers, longing for home.
"Your makeup's fine." Jen smiled. "Now you'd better get back out there before Clark gets bored."
"I take it Rich knows about you?" Ronnie reached for her purse.
"I told him after I found out his secret." Jen stood and looked into the mirror. "I thought it would save suspicion when he found out on his own. He's as hard as you to keep secrets from. That bimbo image is all an act."
Ronnie quirked a smile. "That's good to know." She found the tiny sculpted case and took out her phone.
"What are you doing?" Jen turned and frowned at her.
"I'm getting Clark and going home." Ronnie flipped the phone open.
Jen snatched it. "Oh no you're not. There are two men out there waiting to dance with you."
"I can't dance." Ronnie frowned, wondering what her friend had been drinking.
"Technicalities." Jen steered her back out to the ballroom, then abandoned her.
"Jen, you still have my phone..." She sighed and leaned back, her eyes going involuntarily to the dancers, who were swaying to a slow number.
"Do you want to dance?" David was back, going to one knee to be at eye level.
"I can't stand," she said, avoiding his eyes.
"Does your skirt have a back?" he persisted.
"Yes." She curled her toes and bit her lip, wondering where Clark had gone.
Strong arms suddenly scooped her out of her chair.
"What are you doing?" she gasped, face flaming again.
"Put your arms around my neck." He shifted her so that she was upright, feet touching the floor.
"I don't want to!" She hid her face in the front of his jacket.
"Shh." She felt him jerk a glance toward the dance floor. "Someone'll notice!"
The nervousness in his voice reassured her somewhat, as did the mental poke from Jen.
"Why are you doing this?" She looked up at him, still gripping his lapels.
"I guess that'll do." He put an arm around her waist to support her and began moving to the music.
She blinked at his serious expression, then sighed wearily and leaned against him, moving her feet and trying to support a little of her own weight.
He sighed too. "This isn't so bad."
"No." She glanced down at her feet, then gave him a wry look. "You were playing 'Truth or Dare' with Clark, weren't you?"
"Yeah." His cheeks darkened.
"He wouldn't really carry out his threat." She smiled, fascinated by the blush.
"Well he bluffed well enough to fool me," said David grimly. "And..."
"You wanted to do this anyway," she finished for him, feeling her own cheeks bloom again as their eyes met.
"Yeah," he muttered. "I did."
She let her head rest against his chest, feeling herself fall into the music. -God… should I stop? I don't have time for this right now. But it feels so good.-
"So, Clark says you like 'Epsilon V'," murmured David.
"Mm hm. The attention to detail is fascinating, and I can get into the storyline without worrying about seeing something I don't want to." She let go of one lapel and moved her hand to his shoulder.
"What did you think of the fight between Biddy and Kelly?" He shifted the arm around her waist slightly to compensate for her change in balance.
"Interesting mixture of fighting moves," she said absently. "Brazilian dance-fighting has become fairly popular, but you don't often see the stick fighting or the pure Capoeira moves. And Kelly blended them beautifully with the Love of Peace kung fu."
"Is that what that was? I knew it wasn't Shao Lin. But do you think it was realistic to have her win with it against illegal kick-boxing moves and a steel bar?"
Ronnie nodded. "Oh yes. I've heard that the fight wasn't staged. Apparently they had two variations of the script, one for either outcome. And I've read an account of a young woman using a similar blend of disciplines against a Pain Child and bringing him down."
"Really?" David looked down at her, face full of interest.
She nodded, forgetting her awkwardness.
"Wow. I'll have to tell Gordo. He's got Capoeira and Ti Kwon Do."
Ronnie turned to look at where the tall detective sat in the middle of the dance floor gripping his toes. "He needs some lessons from Penny Kent."
"What does she teach?" He paused as the song came to an end and the band shifted to another slow number.
"A discipline of her own devising," said Ronnie, laying her cheek against his chest again and closing her eyes. "It focuses on balance, coordination, and an awareness of exactly what your body was created to do."
"I'll have to tell him." David fell silent and she felt content to leave him so.
"Excuse me, mind if I cut in?"
Ronnie turned to scowl at the intruder, then blinked. "Rich!"
He grinned down at her, his blue eyes dancing. "Dance with me? Clark's run off with Jen."
Ronnie hesitated and looked to David.
He smiled. "It's alright. I should probably get some sleep before work. I… is it okay if I call?"
"Yes. I'd like that." She felt herself blushing again and lowered her eyes in mortification.
He brushed the curve of her jaw fleetingly with his fingertips and handed her off to Rich, then walked away.
"The Police Commissioner?" asked her cousin gently.
"It was Clark's idea." Ronnie turned to see if she could catch a last glimpse of him, then looked up at Rich. "Jen told me."
His grin faltered slightly. "Ah."
"I'm sorry," she said softly, looking down.
He shrugged and swirled her across the floor as the strains of the slow waltz lilted around them. "Nothing to be sorry about. I was glad when you got to join the family business."
"Prudence thought you hated it."
"I was trying to keep Dad from finding out. He... You know what happened to Grace?"
Ronnie nodded, familiar with the story of the last Batgirl and her tragic end. "He didn't want you out there, did he?"
"Not really. Not as a kid, anyway. So I went and found Uncle John and showed him what I could do. He knew I was going to be out there anyway, so he took me on and trained me."
"I got your dad's job, and you got mine's." She chuckled. "How did you get past Prudence? I know she's run into you a couple of times."
"Scent masker. I always wear it." He glanced up sharply at the skylight.
"It's just Batfreak, playing watchdog." Ronnie sagged suddenly as her side started to ache. "I have to sit down."
Rich scooped her up and carried her to her chair. "I thought you ran the admirers off."
"She's not an admirer. I had to track her down before I even saw her for the first time, and then I had to bribe her to join the team." Ronnie tried to sit up straight, but then conceded defeat and slumped wearily. "Jen has my phone."
He handed her his. She was so tired that she had to try twice before it could understand what number she wanted it to dial.
"Master Richard?" Prudence sounded worried.
"Not Rich," said Ronnie. "Just me."
"Miss Veronica." The concern changed to chagrin. "I'm afraid I'll be several minutes. Master Lobo elected to sample some of the cleaning products."
"Not again." Ronnie bit back tired laughter. "How sick was he?"
"He's not ill at the moment, though that may yet occur," said Prudence wearily. "At the moment he has passed out after becoming drunk as a lord on a mixture of drain cleaner and shoe polish."
"Oh dear." Ronnie put a hand over her mouth and fought the urge to be sick herself. "Why wasn't he out searching?"
"I would imagine that this was an expression of his frustration at another unsuccessful stint of it." Prudence sighed.
Ronnie sighed too, then glanced up as Rich tapped her shoulder and gave her a questioning look.
"What's wrong?" he mouthed.
[Pru's still at home,] she finger-spelled back.
"Tell her I'll drive you."
[What about Jen?] Ronnie frowned.
"She brought her own car. She can bring Clark."
[Clark can fly. He needs to burn off some energy.] Her hand cramped and she shook it.
"Miss Veronica?" asked Prudence.
"Sorry, I was talking to Rich. He says that he'll drive me home," said Ronnie.
"Very well. I shall have your tea ready when you arrive."
"Thanks, Prudence. I'll see you in a few minutes." She closed the phone and handed it back to Rich.
"Is that safe?" he asked softly, slipping it absently into his pocket. "Clark going alone?"
She nodded. "You can't see an Eldar in the moonlight unless he wants you to."
"Okay. I'll let Jen know."
Ronnie watched him go, then leaned back and wondered where Diana had gone. The gregarious young warrior would think nothing of staying up all night, which would make things extremely unpleasant on the Watchtower in the morning when lack of sleep caused her to try and put Airman through walls.
-Lord, defend him,- she thought ruefully. -And please help him to learn the meaning of tact and humility.-
"Ready?" Rich handed her her phone.
"Yes." She sighed in relief. "Let's go."
* * *
Clark was already home as she drove through the front door. Rich looked up to where the boy hung upside down from the chandelier in the front hall and raised an eyebrow. "Bat practise?"
Ronnie sighed and shook her head. "Too much punch. He's got Con's tolerance for sugar. Clark, get down from there before Prudence sees you."
He swung a couple times and went into a series of somersaults, landing lightly on his feet.
"She already did," he said thoughtfully.
"And she didn't tell you to come down?" Rich's face showed his shock.
"She said it wasn't good for the wiring," said Clark, leaning against Ronnie's shoulder. "She also told me that she'd heard stories about Dick Grayson swinging on the chandeliers."
"The first Robin." Rich's eyes twinkled.
Clark blinked and looked at Ronnie.
"He knows, chum." She smiled at his surprise. "He's known all along."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Clark scowled at him. "I nearly hurt myself when you were here last Christmas!"
Rich laughed out loud. "That wind in the study was you?"
"Yes." Clark shook his head. "I've never changed so fast in my life."
"That's why we keep telling you not to bring your costume upstairs," said Ronnie, biting her cheek.
"I nearly got caught like that once," said Rich, still chuckling. "That's why I added the secret room."
"Huh?" Clark stared. "Secret room?"
"Yeah, every masked hero needs their own Fortress of Solitude." Rich frowned slightly at the boy's blank look. "You don't know yet."
"Know what?"
"You didn't hear Ronnie and I talking at the ball?" Rich looked surprised.
"I don't listen in on private conversations," said Clark indignantly. "I don't look through people's masks, either, so you're just gonna haveta tell me who you are 'n quit dropping hints I don't understand."
"I'm sorry, bud." Rich frowned again. "I'm Silver Bat."
Shattering crockery drew all their eyes to where Prudence stood staring at Rich in utter shock, a puddle of herbal tea spreading from the broken mug at her feet.
"You are Silver Bat, Master Richard?" she managed.
He nodded.
Prudence closed her eyes and shook her head, cheeks flushing. "I... My goodness. I... Oh dear!"
"It's alright, Pru," Rich said quickly. "I knew about Ronnie, too."
"A proper mess I've made of things," muttered Prudence. "What would Alfred say?"
Rich shrugged. "From what I've heard of the old man, probably something bland. He didn't seem to get worked up about much."
"No." The ageless woman looked down at the spilled tea. "He didn't."
"I know why you did it," said Rich softly. "I wish that everyone had trusted me more, but..." He shrugged. "What's done is done. Let's just take it from here."
"As you say, Master Richard," said Prudence, smiling slightly. "But you should be homeward bound unless you intend to stay the night. You have a full day ahead of you, if I am not mistaken."
He chuckled and stepped aside as the sweeper beeped at him imperiously. "Yes, ma'am."
She shooed the little flat robot aside with the toe of one polished shoe. "I have a favor to ask, young sir."
"Sure, Prudence, what is it?" He paused and turned back.
"Since I am aware of your other identity, could you discontinue use of that herbal concoction? The high catnip content makes it exceedingly hard to concentrate after our paths have crossed."
He laughed. "Alright. I knew it would distract you and lessen the chances of your recognizing me, but I didn't realize that it would affect you that strongly. How much of the feline physiology do you have?"
Prudence quirked an eyebrow. "Quite a bit, I'm afraid." She glanced at Ronnie, who was silently taking in the exchange, then shook her right hand slightly so that a thin gold bracelet fell into sight. Unfastening it, she set it on a nearby accent table and looked up at him with eyes that now bore slit pupils.
"Wow." He blinked.
Prudence reached up to touch one delicately pointed ear, sharp teeth showing in her smile. "You knew of the advanced rate of healing and the metal-plated skeleton?"
"Not the skeleton," he said thoughtfully. "Is that natural?"
"Nothing of my being is natural, Master Richard." Prudence replaced the bracelet and resumed her customary appearance. "I was created in a laboratory as a prototype covert operative. Until Alfred took me in hand I did not even have a name."
He nodded. "Nightwing told me about that."
Ronnie was suddenly distracted from the conversation as Clark began a slow topple floorward. She made a quick grab and caught him by the jacket, but then gasped as the effort nearly pulled her out of her chair.
"I've got him." Rich lifted the sleeping child gently. "Ronnie, you should be in bed."
"I know." She watched as Prudence took Clark and offered to ready a guest room. Rich refused, saying he had too much to do the next day.
"Drive carefully," she said as he bent to kiss her forehead. "Those curves can be murder to navigate when you're tired."
He chuckled and glanced at his watch. "It's only three in the morning, and the night was nice and relaxing. I'm not tired yet."
Ronnie just smiled at him and turned toward the elevator, her own eyelids beginning to lose the fight against gravity.
The hall was silent and edged in shadow as she rolled down it, the dimmed lights flaring to a brighter radiance as she approached and fading again slowly, as though in disappointment, after she had passed.
Her room was as it always was when she got home, save for the absence of chamomile tea scent. Ronnie changed and brushed her teeth, then headed for the bed, only to freeze as something on the balcony caught her eye. She studied it for a moment with her peripheral vision, then relaxed. "You're not with Uncle Lobo?"
"Nah," said Star from where she crouched on the railing gazing out over the moonlit grounds. "Smell 'a the stuff he drank makes me wanna hurl."
Ronnie frowned and rolled out onto the balcony, stopping behind her honorary aunt. "Are you ill?"
Star chuckled, a soft sound full of mystery and satisfaction. "Nope. Just knocked up."
Ronnie's mouth fell open. "You're pregnant? But I thought you were too old?"
"So was Sarah." Star shifted slightly. "Guess Jesus wants another little Lobo runnin' around."
"Does Uncle Lobo know?" Ronnie looked up at the slender, battle scarred woman, feeling a thrill of wonder and excitement at the thought of a tiny version of Narmo.
"Nuh uh. I ain't tellin' 'im till she's big enough ta kick 'im."
"Why?" Ronnie frowned. "Don't you think he'll be happy?"
"More like scared spitless." Star turned to face her, shifting so that she sat on the rail with one foot hooked through the bars. "I nearly died with Narmo."
"I didn't know that." Ronnie sat back, still frowning. "What happened?"
"Some dipweed had shot Lobo with this ray that was 'sposed ta age 'im. It didn' work, but it messed up his DNA. Narmo grew ta term in a couple weeks. Some people on Karaloria got 'im out 'n made sure he was fed till he'd stopped growin', then stopped the agin'." Star chuckled. "He was a week old when 'is old man had ta explain why he couldn' go 'round kissin' our friends' niece."
"That sounds like him." Ronnie chuckled as she thought of her honorary cousin. "Though I've never seen him do more than look."
"No. Clara's his starlight. Maybe if she'd grown up I'd have grandkids other'n Clark, but he's happy bein' her Ada instead." Star drew up a knee and leaned against it, looking wistful.
"Yes. They repaired Uncle Lobo's DNA, then." Ronnie shivered slightly in the cool night air and drew her robe more closely around her.
"Oh yeah." Star's face gleamed softly as she lifted her head to look down at her. "You better hit the sack. Pru'll give me whatfor fer keepin' ya out here."
Ronnie paused and glanced into her room, then turned and rolled quickly inside. Lifting herself into bed pulled on her stitches and set her nerves to firing off false pain messages.
She groaned and closed her eyes, knowing that sleep was going to be a long time coming.
"Ya shoulda asked fer help." Star knelt next to her on the bed, frowning in concern.
"I realize that now." Ronnie blinked away tears and pressed her hand to the wound, feeling her silk chemise grow damp with sweat.
Star touched her forehead gently with cool fingers. "Try 'n relax."
"I am." Ronnie gasped and bit her lip as the sensation of fire played over her skin.
Star scowled in sympathy and murmured softly in Eldari, pushing Ronnie's hair away from her forehead. "Easy, Lotsi. Shhh. How was the ball?"
Ronnie felt an unexpected smile curve her lips.
"That good?" Star sounded surprised. "What happened?"
"I danced." Ronnie sighed as the memory made her stomach flutter with butterflies. "Clark dared David Freeman to dance with me." Her smile widened.
"Sweet," breathed Star. "You had a lotta fun. I kin tell."
Ronnie felt her cheeks darken again as she remembered the feel of his hand over hers.
"Oh ho!" chortled Star. "Wait, David Freeman? Ain't that the Commish?"
Ronnie nodded mutely, turning her head to hide her flaming face from the sharp-eyed Eldari woman.
Star fell silent, her hand moving down to gently cover the one that Ronnie held over her stitches.
"He's a lot better lookin' than old Harv was," she said at last. "Got a better opinion of the Bats, too."
"It doesn't really matter." Ronnie gasped as what felt like a jolt of electricity went through her body. "I don't have time for men. I need to focus on my job."
"Lovin' a guy don't mean ya can't do yer job, Lotsi. Lookit Kendell, her 'n J'onni've ben married fer awhile now." Star took her hand away and shook it thoughtfully.
"J'onni's known she's Dragon Fire since they were both kids. I have a secret identity. It wouldn't work..." Ronnie paused to poke at the stitches. "Jesus just healed this, didn't He?"
"That or somethin' else." Star examined her hand and then turned to give Ronnie a sharp look. "If he's the one yer havin' a secret identity won't matter. Jesus'll work it all out. He always does."
Ronnie made a noncommittal sound, her eyes closing as her nerves stopped their jangling and her muscles relaxed. She felt her aunt move off the bed and heard her order the lights off, then felt more than heard the door open and close as Star slipped away.
She started to lift her head to look after her, but she was asleep before she could complete the motion.
David shook his head without looking away from the dance floor. "No chance, Gordo."
"None 'a these rich chicks wanna dance with a cop." His best friend, Detective Gordon Montoya, complained quietly, swirling his martini in one hand.
"Maybe if you weren't so infamous." David cocked an eye at him. "How can a black belt at Capoeira be that much of a toe-stomper?"
Gordon scowled, then looked hopeful as a young lovely paused to take in his dark eyes and broad shoulders.
The girl smiled at him, then turned and walked toward the huge wall banner that announced the fourteenth annual Gotham Orphan's Society Easter ball.
Gordon sighed. "Too young. I may be an old bachelor, but I'm an old bachelor with morals."
David chuckled. "I wondered why I hung out with you. Guess that's it."
"Nah." Gordon snagged another martini from a passing tray. "You hang out with me to continue the long tradition of friendship between the Montoyas and the Bullocks."
"Long tradition?" David wrinkled his nose as the band started playing a slow dance.
"Hey, our families've been hanging out since Jim Gordon had your job," said Gordon, tugging on his tie. "That was a long time ago. They actually made cops drive ground cars and expected them to get places in time."
David chuckled. "Well, it looks like the tradition's coming to an end, 'cause it's just us 'old bachelors' left." He paused as he caught sight of something on the other side of the dance floor.
Gordon's smile faded. "Yeah... Steph was gonna say yes."
"I know. God had other ideas, I guess." David set his drink down, remembering Gordon's younger sister and her bright smile.
"Stinking drunk driver." Gordon blinked and looked toward the bar.
"Don't do it." David turned back and caught his wrist. "Stick with the soft stuff."
"I am." Gordon stuck his hands in his pockets, head bowed.
"Excuse me." The voice was young and full of concern. "Is something wrong?"
David started and looked down, his eyes meeting the bright blue ones of a boy of maybe six. "No. Nothing's wrong."
"Aren't you a little young to be up this late?" Gordon hunkered down to talk to the child.
"I'm here with Ronnie. We always go to this ball together." The boy raised one eyebrow and smiled slightly, then offered a hand. "I'm Clark Kent."
"Gord Montoya." Gordon shook, looking nonplussed. "This is my buddy, Dave Freeman."
The police Commissioner." Clark's smile widened into a cheerful grin. "I've seen you on TV."
"Yeah?" David smiled back uncertainly, wondering how old the boy really was.
"Yeah! You work with Batman!"
Gordon laughed and looked up at David. "I knew it couldn't be your heroic exploits."
Clark gave him a slight frown, then looked up brightly as a woman stopped next to them. "Miss Free, is Ronnie looking for me?"
"Yes." She smiled as Gordon straightened hastily and blinked at the realization that she was nearly a head taller than him. "But you could introduce me to your friends before you go."
Clark's grin came back full force. "Sure. This is Gordon Montoya and David Freeman. Mr. Montoya, Commissioner Freeman, this is Diana Free."
"It's a pleasure to meet you." Diana smiled, her dark eyes fixed on Gordon's.
"Yeah," he said dazedly. "Uh, would you like to dance?"
Diana winced, one hand coming up to fiddle with the bodice of her dark green silk dress. "I don't think you want to do that. I tend to step on toes."
"That's okay, so do I." He offered her his arm and an engaging smile.
Diana laughed and lay a strong but shapely hand on his arm. "Let's go cripple one another then."
David blinked as he watched them stop on the dance floor, dark heads bowed together as they tried to figure out what they were doing, then looked down and discovered that he'd been totally abandoned.
Shaking his head slowly, he glanced around and then made his way to where Clark stood in the shadow of the wall drapes, his hand lying protectively on that of the woman in the electric wheelchair next to him. The woman herself seemed to be hiding, not from fear, but rather from a desire to quietly observe everything that was going on. She wore a simple black dress with long sleeves and a skirt that reached past her knees, and a pair of jeweled sandals that showed off rather pretty feet. The colour of the dress contrasted gently with the strange shimmer of her skin, which combined with a pair of warm grey eyes to give her the look of some exotic fairy creature from one of the prints that Steph had collected.
Shimmer… He frowned, then blinked as his mind made the connection. "I didn't know you came to gigs like this, Miss Grayson."
She looked up with a shy smile. "This cause is dear to my heart. Having Gotham's most famous recluse attend the ball brings more help for the kids."
"Ah." He glanced at Clark, wondering how the kid could look that dignified and sober with that much mischief shining in his eyes.
"You're terrible." Ronnie looked at her ward with a chuckle as he came to stand next to her.
"Di's happy," he said contentedly. "So's Detective Montoya."
"You're too young to play matchmaker."
He shrugged and put his hand on the one that lay on the arm of her wheelchair. "They're happy. I don't like seeing Di look so lonely all the time. Detective Montoya's a good guy."
"Yes, he is." Ronnie watched as he nearly wiped out and Diana caught him.
"Here comes the Commish." Clark fell silent as David stopped in front of her.
"I didn't know you came to gigs like this, Miss Grayson." He gave her a quizzical smile.
"This cause is dear to my heart," she said, musing at how different he looked in a tuxedo. "Having Gotham's most famous recluse attend the ball brings more help for the kids."
"Ah."
She watched as he glanced at Clark, taking in the way his green tie brought out the colour of his eyes and accented his copper skin. -I wonder what his curls would feel like? Yike, did I just think that? Oh, I've been watching Uncle Lobo and Aunt Star too much.-
Then she realized that she was staring and that he was looking back quizzically.
"Sorry." She dropped her eyes, feeling her cheeks warm.
"It's alright." He glanced at her drink. "So you're a patron of the Orphan's Society?"
"I'm the founder." She looked at the drink herself, feeling the usual awkwardness at being around non-family rise up inside her.
"Oh." He pulled a chair over and set it slightly in front of and facing her. "That's really cool."
She glanced up curiously as he sat down. "Thank you... You spend a lot of time around people in wheelchairs?"
"My grandmother used one," he said softly, face clouding slightly.
"I forgot." She could have kicked herself. "I'm sorry. I saw what happened in the news."
"It's alright. She's in a better place" He reached up to finger a tiny cross on his lapel.
"She was a believer." Ronnie felt Clark lean against her shoulder comfortingly.
"In Jesus. Yeah." He smiled slightly without looking up. "He was part of everything she did. My dad used to joke that she lived, ate, and slept the Lord."
Ronnie glanced at Clark, not sure what to say. "She sounds like a good person."
David snorted with laughter. "I used to doubt that when I was a kid. I don't think I ever got a cookie before dinner. Just a lot of sore knuckles."
Ronnie chuckled despite herself. "She sounds like my butler."
"Yeah?" He looked up with interest.
"Yes. I remember one time my uncle came to argue the no snacks rule and she gave him a spinning snap kick to the head."
"Ouch." David whistled. "Violent."
Ronnie blinked, realizing that she'd said too much. "Er. He can be rather..."
"Pig-headed?" offered Clark innocently.
"Yes." She quirked an eyebrow at him and fell silent, wishing she could escape and go home.
"Honorary uncle, right?" David scratched his head. "I've got one like that. My mom had to pull her gun on him to make him get away from the TV after his team lost the Superbowl one time."
Ronnie blinked again, feeling glad that Lobo had never taken an interest in Terran sports. "When is your grandmother's funeral?"
"She didn't want one." He glanced over his shoulder as laughter came from the dance floor. "They cremated her body this morning."
"Oh." Ronnie frowned at her drink again, then looked up as camera flashes went off and saw Gordon trying to help Diana fix her hair.
David chuckled as his friend got a hair clip on the fingers and yelped. "This is the happiest I've seen Gord in years."
"Oh dear." Ronnie watched as Diana's hair tumbled down again, feeling mortified at all the attention the pair were drawing to themselves.
David turned back to her. "What's wrong?"
"They're..." Ronnie fought off the urge to hide her face as Gordon pretended to read the clip its rights, looking pleased at Diana's laughter.
"They're gonna be on a lotta news sites tomorrow," said Clark, grinning at their antics.
"Oh dear," agreed Ronnie, feeling herself blush in sympathetic embarrassment, though Diana and Gordon seemed oblivious of everything but one another.
"Hey." David put his hand over the one that held her glass. "It isn't bothering them. Not everyone appreciates the comfort of the shadows."
Ronnie barely heard him. She was transfixed but the way her hand seemed to be tingling with electricity so that the hair on her arms stood on end. His hand… it feels so…
"Are you cold?" He took it away.
"I… what?" She looked up, face flaming now.
"You're shivering," he said gently, his eyes locking with hers.
Breathe, she thought. Breathe… how can eyes be that beautiful? No! Stop it!
She looked away, pulling the Bat persona over herself like a shield. "Excuse me, please. I think I need to visit the powder room."
"Uh… yeah. Yeah, you want me to hold your drink?" David cleared his throat.
"Thank you." She handed it over, then turned her chair and fled.
"Ronnie doesn't get out very often," said Clark apologetically. "She's really nice."
"Huh?" David blinked and stared at him blankly.
"You're blushing too." Clark's eyebrows went up.
David blinked again and knocked back the drink, then rubbed his face. "Yeah."
"You like her, don't you?" Clark grinned widely, eyes dancing.
"I just met her," growled David, then looked at the boy's crestfallen expression and relented. "Yeah, I do." He lifted his hand and clenched it gently, remembering how hers had felt inside it. "She's beautiful. But someone like her wouldn't want anything to do with someone like me."
"Sure she would." Clark gave a happy little bounce, then pulled a card out of his pocket and offered it to him hopefully. "She doesn't like meat or ice cream, or anything sweet. And she doesn't really like cut flowers, 'cause they die. But she really likes going through gardens and stuff. And she watches 'Cat's Eye' 'n 'Larryboy' 'n 'Epsilon V'."
David stared at him. "Are you playing matchmaker?"
Clark tried very hard to look totally innocent, but the flush on his cheeks ruined the effect. "Um… excuse me, I-gotta-go-the-bathroom!"
David watched him scamper away, then looked down at the card in his hand and felt surprised that he'd taken it.
He shook his head, then frowned and blinked away deja-vu as something in the way Clark had spoken poked at his mind.
"Hey, Dave, you alright?" Gordon stopped next to him, one hand wrapped in a napkin.
"Yeah," said David absently. "Just a little confused."
"I'm so confused." Ronnie rubbed her face with shaking hands.
"What happened?" asked the tall brunette sitting on the counter.
"He touched my hand and it was like my nervous system was being overloaded or something. The life support module even kicked in because I was having trouble catching my breath." Ronnie slumped against the backrest, feeling slightly dazed.
Jen J'ones chuckled. "It's about time."
Ronnie quirked an eyebrow at her.
"It's just a crush." Jen smiled at her encouragingly. "Lots of good feelings and a slight distraction when the guy's not around."
"I can't afford to be distracted right now," growled Ronnie. "I just found out that this case has extended to Bludhaven. You have to think of some way to get Rich away. A holiday."
Jen shook her head. "No chance."
"What do you mean? You've implanted suggestions before."
"Yes, I have. But Rich has important business that he can't leave right now," said Jen softly.
"What business? Why can't Jono take care of it?" demanded Ronnie. "He's Rich's right hand man, he can do anything Rich can."
"Not this." Jen shook her head.
"Why not?"
"Why did your uncle decide to keep Rich in the dark about his other job? And why didn't Prudence tell him after everyone died?" Jen asked evenly. "He's descended from Bruce Wayne. Shouldn't he have gotten your position?"
Ronnie frowned at the seeming change in topic, her mind trying to figure out the connection. "Prudence said that he hated the people who did that sort of job. I can remember her trying to bring it up the time he came to see me in the hospital and him brushing it off. She decided to keep it from him after that so that he wouldn't lose respect for Uncle James."
Jen idly poked a finger into the marble of the countertop, shielding the action from the security cameras with her body. -Did you know that the last Nightwing had taken on a junior partner?-
Ronnie flinched at the strange sensation of someone else's thoughts in her mind. "Don't do that."
"You didn't. I bet Prudence didn't either."
"No. I didn't," said Ronnie impatiently. "Where are you..." Her mind made the connection and she blinked. "Frag."
-Silver Bat,- affirmed Jen softly, and Ronnie was too stunned to protest. -I found out when I ghosted through the back of his closet one night after he got out of the apartment without me knowing.-
Ronnie stared at her.
"I was with him the night you tried to tell him to stay away from the case." Jen glanced up as another woman came into the bathroom and paused to look in the mirror.
Ronnie leaned her forehead on her hand, feeling tears running down her cheeks. "I was trying to protect him."
"He knows. He's not mad." Jen slid off the counter and came to kneel next to her and hug her gently.
"I feel so stupid. Why didn't he say anything?" Ronnie lifted her head and let it fall against the back of her chair as the other woman turned and went into a stall.
"You were happy with how things were, and that made him happy." Jen handed her a tissue. "He knows you're an adult now, but he still sees you as that cute little toddler he's holding in the picture on his mantle."
"I used to adore him," Ronnie remembered. "It hurt when he never came to see me while they were rebuilding my nervous system."
"He was a little busy taking care of two cities at night and trying to play a normal teenager during the day," said Jen gently. "And he didn't want to make you wonder why he came and your parents didn't."
Ronnie sighed, her eyes on her days at Star Labs. Most of what she could remember was Lobo telling her stories and holding her, though there were a few memories of Con, Vendea, and Star. And at least one birthday party. "No one told me they were dead till I was seven." -By then I was used to them being gone.-
She rubbed her eyes and looked at her fingers, longing for home.
"Your makeup's fine." Jen smiled. "Now you'd better get back out there before Clark gets bored."
"I take it Rich knows about you?" Ronnie reached for her purse.
"I told him after I found out his secret." Jen stood and looked into the mirror. "I thought it would save suspicion when he found out on his own. He's as hard as you to keep secrets from. That bimbo image is all an act."
Ronnie quirked a smile. "That's good to know." She found the tiny sculpted case and took out her phone.
"What are you doing?" Jen turned and frowned at her.
"I'm getting Clark and going home." Ronnie flipped the phone open.
Jen snatched it. "Oh no you're not. There are two men out there waiting to dance with you."
"I can't dance." Ronnie frowned, wondering what her friend had been drinking.
"Technicalities." Jen steered her back out to the ballroom, then abandoned her.
"Jen, you still have my phone..." She sighed and leaned back, her eyes going involuntarily to the dancers, who were swaying to a slow number.
"Do you want to dance?" David was back, going to one knee to be at eye level.
"I can't stand," she said, avoiding his eyes.
"Does your skirt have a back?" he persisted.
"Yes." She curled her toes and bit her lip, wondering where Clark had gone.
Strong arms suddenly scooped her out of her chair.
"What are you doing?" she gasped, face flaming again.
"Put your arms around my neck." He shifted her so that she was upright, feet touching the floor.
"I don't want to!" She hid her face in the front of his jacket.
"Shh." She felt him jerk a glance toward the dance floor. "Someone'll notice!"
The nervousness in his voice reassured her somewhat, as did the mental poke from Jen.
"Why are you doing this?" She looked up at him, still gripping his lapels.
"I guess that'll do." He put an arm around her waist to support her and began moving to the music.
She blinked at his serious expression, then sighed wearily and leaned against him, moving her feet and trying to support a little of her own weight.
He sighed too. "This isn't so bad."
"No." She glanced down at her feet, then gave him a wry look. "You were playing 'Truth or Dare' with Clark, weren't you?"
"Yeah." His cheeks darkened.
"He wouldn't really carry out his threat." She smiled, fascinated by the blush.
"Well he bluffed well enough to fool me," said David grimly. "And..."
"You wanted to do this anyway," she finished for him, feeling her own cheeks bloom again as their eyes met.
"Yeah," he muttered. "I did."
She let her head rest against his chest, feeling herself fall into the music. -God… should I stop? I don't have time for this right now. But it feels so good.-
"So, Clark says you like 'Epsilon V'," murmured David.
"Mm hm. The attention to detail is fascinating, and I can get into the storyline without worrying about seeing something I don't want to." She let go of one lapel and moved her hand to his shoulder.
"What did you think of the fight between Biddy and Kelly?" He shifted the arm around her waist slightly to compensate for her change in balance.
"Interesting mixture of fighting moves," she said absently. "Brazilian dance-fighting has become fairly popular, but you don't often see the stick fighting or the pure Capoeira moves. And Kelly blended them beautifully with the Love of Peace kung fu."
"Is that what that was? I knew it wasn't Shao Lin. But do you think it was realistic to have her win with it against illegal kick-boxing moves and a steel bar?"
Ronnie nodded. "Oh yes. I've heard that the fight wasn't staged. Apparently they had two variations of the script, one for either outcome. And I've read an account of a young woman using a similar blend of disciplines against a Pain Child and bringing him down."
"Really?" David looked down at her, face full of interest.
She nodded, forgetting her awkwardness.
"Wow. I'll have to tell Gordo. He's got Capoeira and Ti Kwon Do."
Ronnie turned to look at where the tall detective sat in the middle of the dance floor gripping his toes. "He needs some lessons from Penny Kent."
"What does she teach?" He paused as the song came to an end and the band shifted to another slow number.
"A discipline of her own devising," said Ronnie, laying her cheek against his chest again and closing her eyes. "It focuses on balance, coordination, and an awareness of exactly what your body was created to do."
"I'll have to tell him." David fell silent and she felt content to leave him so.
"Excuse me, mind if I cut in?"
Ronnie turned to scowl at the intruder, then blinked. "Rich!"
He grinned down at her, his blue eyes dancing. "Dance with me? Clark's run off with Jen."
Ronnie hesitated and looked to David.
He smiled. "It's alright. I should probably get some sleep before work. I… is it okay if I call?"
"Yes. I'd like that." She felt herself blushing again and lowered her eyes in mortification.
He brushed the curve of her jaw fleetingly with his fingertips and handed her off to Rich, then walked away.
"The Police Commissioner?" asked her cousin gently.
"It was Clark's idea." Ronnie turned to see if she could catch a last glimpse of him, then looked up at Rich. "Jen told me."
His grin faltered slightly. "Ah."
"I'm sorry," she said softly, looking down.
He shrugged and swirled her across the floor as the strains of the slow waltz lilted around them. "Nothing to be sorry about. I was glad when you got to join the family business."
"Prudence thought you hated it."
"I was trying to keep Dad from finding out. He... You know what happened to Grace?"
Ronnie nodded, familiar with the story of the last Batgirl and her tragic end. "He didn't want you out there, did he?"
"Not really. Not as a kid, anyway. So I went and found Uncle John and showed him what I could do. He knew I was going to be out there anyway, so he took me on and trained me."
"I got your dad's job, and you got mine's." She chuckled. "How did you get past Prudence? I know she's run into you a couple of times."
"Scent masker. I always wear it." He glanced up sharply at the skylight.
"It's just Batfreak, playing watchdog." Ronnie sagged suddenly as her side started to ache. "I have to sit down."
Rich scooped her up and carried her to her chair. "I thought you ran the admirers off."
"She's not an admirer. I had to track her down before I even saw her for the first time, and then I had to bribe her to join the team." Ronnie tried to sit up straight, but then conceded defeat and slumped wearily. "Jen has my phone."
He handed her his. She was so tired that she had to try twice before it could understand what number she wanted it to dial.
"Master Richard?" Prudence sounded worried.
"Not Rich," said Ronnie. "Just me."
"Miss Veronica." The concern changed to chagrin. "I'm afraid I'll be several minutes. Master Lobo elected to sample some of the cleaning products."
"Not again." Ronnie bit back tired laughter. "How sick was he?"
"He's not ill at the moment, though that may yet occur," said Prudence wearily. "At the moment he has passed out after becoming drunk as a lord on a mixture of drain cleaner and shoe polish."
"Oh dear." Ronnie put a hand over her mouth and fought the urge to be sick herself. "Why wasn't he out searching?"
"I would imagine that this was an expression of his frustration at another unsuccessful stint of it." Prudence sighed.
Ronnie sighed too, then glanced up as Rich tapped her shoulder and gave her a questioning look.
"What's wrong?" he mouthed.
[Pru's still at home,] she finger-spelled back.
"Tell her I'll drive you."
[What about Jen?] Ronnie frowned.
"She brought her own car. She can bring Clark."
[Clark can fly. He needs to burn off some energy.] Her hand cramped and she shook it.
"Miss Veronica?" asked Prudence.
"Sorry, I was talking to Rich. He says that he'll drive me home," said Ronnie.
"Very well. I shall have your tea ready when you arrive."
"Thanks, Prudence. I'll see you in a few minutes." She closed the phone and handed it back to Rich.
"Is that safe?" he asked softly, slipping it absently into his pocket. "Clark going alone?"
She nodded. "You can't see an Eldar in the moonlight unless he wants you to."
"Okay. I'll let Jen know."
Ronnie watched him go, then leaned back and wondered where Diana had gone. The gregarious young warrior would think nothing of staying up all night, which would make things extremely unpleasant on the Watchtower in the morning when lack of sleep caused her to try and put Airman through walls.
-Lord, defend him,- she thought ruefully. -And please help him to learn the meaning of tact and humility.-
"Ready?" Rich handed her her phone.
"Yes." She sighed in relief. "Let's go."
* * *
Clark was already home as she drove through the front door. Rich looked up to where the boy hung upside down from the chandelier in the front hall and raised an eyebrow. "Bat practise?"
Ronnie sighed and shook her head. "Too much punch. He's got Con's tolerance for sugar. Clark, get down from there before Prudence sees you."
He swung a couple times and went into a series of somersaults, landing lightly on his feet.
"She already did," he said thoughtfully.
"And she didn't tell you to come down?" Rich's face showed his shock.
"She said it wasn't good for the wiring," said Clark, leaning against Ronnie's shoulder. "She also told me that she'd heard stories about Dick Grayson swinging on the chandeliers."
"The first Robin." Rich's eyes twinkled.
Clark blinked and looked at Ronnie.
"He knows, chum." She smiled at his surprise. "He's known all along."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Clark scowled at him. "I nearly hurt myself when you were here last Christmas!"
Rich laughed out loud. "That wind in the study was you?"
"Yes." Clark shook his head. "I've never changed so fast in my life."
"That's why we keep telling you not to bring your costume upstairs," said Ronnie, biting her cheek.
"I nearly got caught like that once," said Rich, still chuckling. "That's why I added the secret room."
"Huh?" Clark stared. "Secret room?"
"Yeah, every masked hero needs their own Fortress of Solitude." Rich frowned slightly at the boy's blank look. "You don't know yet."
"Know what?"
"You didn't hear Ronnie and I talking at the ball?" Rich looked surprised.
"I don't listen in on private conversations," said Clark indignantly. "I don't look through people's masks, either, so you're just gonna haveta tell me who you are 'n quit dropping hints I don't understand."
"I'm sorry, bud." Rich frowned again. "I'm Silver Bat."
Shattering crockery drew all their eyes to where Prudence stood staring at Rich in utter shock, a puddle of herbal tea spreading from the broken mug at her feet.
"You are Silver Bat, Master Richard?" she managed.
He nodded.
Prudence closed her eyes and shook her head, cheeks flushing. "I... My goodness. I... Oh dear!"
"It's alright, Pru," Rich said quickly. "I knew about Ronnie, too."
"A proper mess I've made of things," muttered Prudence. "What would Alfred say?"
Rich shrugged. "From what I've heard of the old man, probably something bland. He didn't seem to get worked up about much."
"No." The ageless woman looked down at the spilled tea. "He didn't."
"I know why you did it," said Rich softly. "I wish that everyone had trusted me more, but..." He shrugged. "What's done is done. Let's just take it from here."
"As you say, Master Richard," said Prudence, smiling slightly. "But you should be homeward bound unless you intend to stay the night. You have a full day ahead of you, if I am not mistaken."
He chuckled and stepped aside as the sweeper beeped at him imperiously. "Yes, ma'am."
She shooed the little flat robot aside with the toe of one polished shoe. "I have a favor to ask, young sir."
"Sure, Prudence, what is it?" He paused and turned back.
"Since I am aware of your other identity, could you discontinue use of that herbal concoction? The high catnip content makes it exceedingly hard to concentrate after our paths have crossed."
He laughed. "Alright. I knew it would distract you and lessen the chances of your recognizing me, but I didn't realize that it would affect you that strongly. How much of the feline physiology do you have?"
Prudence quirked an eyebrow. "Quite a bit, I'm afraid." She glanced at Ronnie, who was silently taking in the exchange, then shook her right hand slightly so that a thin gold bracelet fell into sight. Unfastening it, she set it on a nearby accent table and looked up at him with eyes that now bore slit pupils.
"Wow." He blinked.
Prudence reached up to touch one delicately pointed ear, sharp teeth showing in her smile. "You knew of the advanced rate of healing and the metal-plated skeleton?"
"Not the skeleton," he said thoughtfully. "Is that natural?"
"Nothing of my being is natural, Master Richard." Prudence replaced the bracelet and resumed her customary appearance. "I was created in a laboratory as a prototype covert operative. Until Alfred took me in hand I did not even have a name."
He nodded. "Nightwing told me about that."
Ronnie was suddenly distracted from the conversation as Clark began a slow topple floorward. She made a quick grab and caught him by the jacket, but then gasped as the effort nearly pulled her out of her chair.
"I've got him." Rich lifted the sleeping child gently. "Ronnie, you should be in bed."
"I know." She watched as Prudence took Clark and offered to ready a guest room. Rich refused, saying he had too much to do the next day.
"Drive carefully," she said as he bent to kiss her forehead. "Those curves can be murder to navigate when you're tired."
He chuckled and glanced at his watch. "It's only three in the morning, and the night was nice and relaxing. I'm not tired yet."
Ronnie just smiled at him and turned toward the elevator, her own eyelids beginning to lose the fight against gravity.
The hall was silent and edged in shadow as she rolled down it, the dimmed lights flaring to a brighter radiance as she approached and fading again slowly, as though in disappointment, after she had passed.
Her room was as it always was when she got home, save for the absence of chamomile tea scent. Ronnie changed and brushed her teeth, then headed for the bed, only to freeze as something on the balcony caught her eye. She studied it for a moment with her peripheral vision, then relaxed. "You're not with Uncle Lobo?"
"Nah," said Star from where she crouched on the railing gazing out over the moonlit grounds. "Smell 'a the stuff he drank makes me wanna hurl."
Ronnie frowned and rolled out onto the balcony, stopping behind her honorary aunt. "Are you ill?"
Star chuckled, a soft sound full of mystery and satisfaction. "Nope. Just knocked up."
Ronnie's mouth fell open. "You're pregnant? But I thought you were too old?"
"So was Sarah." Star shifted slightly. "Guess Jesus wants another little Lobo runnin' around."
"Does Uncle Lobo know?" Ronnie looked up at the slender, battle scarred woman, feeling a thrill of wonder and excitement at the thought of a tiny version of Narmo.
"Nuh uh. I ain't tellin' 'im till she's big enough ta kick 'im."
"Why?" Ronnie frowned. "Don't you think he'll be happy?"
"More like scared spitless." Star turned to face her, shifting so that she sat on the rail with one foot hooked through the bars. "I nearly died with Narmo."
"I didn't know that." Ronnie sat back, still frowning. "What happened?"
"Some dipweed had shot Lobo with this ray that was 'sposed ta age 'im. It didn' work, but it messed up his DNA. Narmo grew ta term in a couple weeks. Some people on Karaloria got 'im out 'n made sure he was fed till he'd stopped growin', then stopped the agin'." Star chuckled. "He was a week old when 'is old man had ta explain why he couldn' go 'round kissin' our friends' niece."
"That sounds like him." Ronnie chuckled as she thought of her honorary cousin. "Though I've never seen him do more than look."
"No. Clara's his starlight. Maybe if she'd grown up I'd have grandkids other'n Clark, but he's happy bein' her Ada instead." Star drew up a knee and leaned against it, looking wistful.
"Yes. They repaired Uncle Lobo's DNA, then." Ronnie shivered slightly in the cool night air and drew her robe more closely around her.
"Oh yeah." Star's face gleamed softly as she lifted her head to look down at her. "You better hit the sack. Pru'll give me whatfor fer keepin' ya out here."
Ronnie paused and glanced into her room, then turned and rolled quickly inside. Lifting herself into bed pulled on her stitches and set her nerves to firing off false pain messages.
She groaned and closed her eyes, knowing that sleep was going to be a long time coming.
"Ya shoulda asked fer help." Star knelt next to her on the bed, frowning in concern.
"I realize that now." Ronnie blinked away tears and pressed her hand to the wound, feeling her silk chemise grow damp with sweat.
Star touched her forehead gently with cool fingers. "Try 'n relax."
"I am." Ronnie gasped and bit her lip as the sensation of fire played over her skin.
Star scowled in sympathy and murmured softly in Eldari, pushing Ronnie's hair away from her forehead. "Easy, Lotsi. Shhh. How was the ball?"
Ronnie felt an unexpected smile curve her lips.
"That good?" Star sounded surprised. "What happened?"
"I danced." Ronnie sighed as the memory made her stomach flutter with butterflies. "Clark dared David Freeman to dance with me." Her smile widened.
"Sweet," breathed Star. "You had a lotta fun. I kin tell."
Ronnie felt her cheeks darken again as she remembered the feel of his hand over hers.
"Oh ho!" chortled Star. "Wait, David Freeman? Ain't that the Commish?"
Ronnie nodded mutely, turning her head to hide her flaming face from the sharp-eyed Eldari woman.
Star fell silent, her hand moving down to gently cover the one that Ronnie held over her stitches.
"He's a lot better lookin' than old Harv was," she said at last. "Got a better opinion of the Bats, too."
"It doesn't really matter." Ronnie gasped as what felt like a jolt of electricity went through her body. "I don't have time for men. I need to focus on my job."
"Lovin' a guy don't mean ya can't do yer job, Lotsi. Lookit Kendell, her 'n J'onni've ben married fer awhile now." Star took her hand away and shook it thoughtfully.
"J'onni's known she's Dragon Fire since they were both kids. I have a secret identity. It wouldn't work..." Ronnie paused to poke at the stitches. "Jesus just healed this, didn't He?"
"That or somethin' else." Star examined her hand and then turned to give Ronnie a sharp look. "If he's the one yer havin' a secret identity won't matter. Jesus'll work it all out. He always does."
Ronnie made a noncommittal sound, her eyes closing as her nerves stopped their jangling and her muscles relaxed. She felt her aunt move off the bed and heard her order the lights off, then felt more than heard the door open and close as Star slipped away.
She started to lift her head to look after her, but she was asleep before she could complete the motion.