Justice Lords Limitless Act 2: EndWar

Diana was tired. How long had she been walking these stairs? She wasn't sure, but she did know that she was deep underground. There was barely any light for her to see and the one bulb that illuminated the top of the stairway seemed long gone. As she carefully continued, she waved her arms out to either side and found that there was no wall to her right: just inky black space. One wrong step and I may just fall to my death... She was nearly certain that eventually, the stairs would turn from straight... And she was worried there wouldn't be enough light for her to see it until it was too late. Suddenly, she bumped into something.

"Ow! Eh, Diana? Is that you?" The 'something' spoke.

She recognized that voice. "Bruce?" Diana squinted in the dim cave light and could barely make out the eyes of her host, "What on Earth are you doing down here?" She strained to see past him. "Don't tell me you have a portal to Tartarus down here without my knowledge."

Bruce chuckled in the dark. "No such thing, Princess," he replied. "Here." There was a mechanical click and the light from a flashlight stung her eyes. As she recovered from the light, Diana felt Bruce take her hand. He was now behind her. How had he gotten past her on the narrow stairway? "I'll guide you back up." He began to lead her up the stairs.

As she followed, Diana craned her neck behind her to look into the yawning abyss. Nothing. "What's down here, Bruce?"

"There are some treasures I like to keep close," Bruce said with an unseen smile.

"You expect me to believe you keep a vault of expensive trophies under your house?" she asked skeptically.

Bruce grinned as they approached the solitary hanging lightbulb. "It's a vault, alright."

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There was a collective sigh of relief from all three as a chirp from the Batcomputer signaled that the grandfather clock had been closed, sealing the secret of the BatCave from prying eyes. For a time, there was silence as each of them worked on individual projects: Robin was on his back under the Bat-Trike tuning the engine, Batgirl was sitting crosslegged before a laptop running new simulations on the foreign compound confiscated from the Burnouts in light of recent events, and Tim was browsing news sites for anymore information on the most recent Arkham escape.

Finally, Batgirl addressed a question that had lingered at the back of her mind since they'd returned from Arkham. "Robin?"

Robin rolled out from under his machine and sat up facing Batgirl. "What's up?"

"On the beach, you said that you would rather not move it. Yet that device was no bigger than my papa's old tape recorder." She looked across the chamber at the phone-sized EMP device still resting on the desk of the Batcomputer, inert. "Why didn't you want to move it?"

"Well, it was used to disable a security tower," Tim cut in as if the answer was obvious. "So clearly it would have still been connected when... Robin came across it. It would have been better for Batman to inspect the whole set-up and not just the main piece. There would be more forensic evidence to glean seeing it in place rather than just seeing the tool itself."

Batgirl looked at Tim with slight annoyance.

"What?" he asked nonchalantly. "I know stuff." He reclined deeper into the Batcomputer's chair and kicked his feet up on the table. "Like I said: that wasn't my first rodeo."

"Don't get too comfortable," she muttered under her breath, disgusted with his apparent lack of respect for Batman's supercomputer. "You're not staying."

"So you keep saying, and yet I'm still here," Tim stuck his tongue out at Batgirl. "I'm doing the same as you: trying to make a difference."

Batgirl rolled her eyes. "There is more than one way to make a difference, especially considering the circumstances. For example, you could obey what Batman said and leave, allowing us to do our work. That would make a world of difference."

Tim glared at her and swung out of the chair defiantly. "Fine! I don't need this!" He marched to the 'Cave's exit, fists cocked. "Just wait until I tell the real Batgirl that her replacement is a vindictive wanna-be who wouldn't be able to even fill out the true Batgirl uniform!"

"What are you talking about 'fill out'?" Batgirl shot back at Tim, getting her feet under her.

"You heard me, you overconfident, A-cup-having witch!" Tim yelled. "You're small-time!"

"A-cup? Small-time? What the hell's that mean?" Batgirl indignantly yelled as she balled up her fists and readied to fight the insolent teen again.

Tim didn't elaborate. With the juvenile insults flung, he stormed out of the cave.

Robin barely managed to suppress a chuckle. "You got your wish. He's gone."

Batgirl stood with her eyes fixed on the dark exit that had swallowed Tim Drake, stunned. "What the hell's his deal?."

"He's having a bad night. We're all having a bad night." Robin replied, sliding back under the Bat-Trike and refocusing on whatever he had been tinkering with. "Best not to take it personally."

"Easy for you to say. He didn't insult you." She crossed her arms and glared into the dark before looking in Robin's direction. "Did you hear him?"

"Yup." Robin kept his answer short, hoping her anger would dissipate into the cool night air.

Batgirl headed to the garage in a huff and removed her helmet as approached Robin's workspace. "Curt," she spoke in a low voice. Using her foot, she rolled him out from under his vehicle. As best as she could in her uniform, she pushed her breasts together with her arms and bent over. "Do you think they're small?"

Robin inhaled sharply and quickly rolled himself back under the Bat-Trike.

"Screw you! Is that a yes?" Kimber surprisingly sounded offended.

"I didn't say shit!" Robin exclaimed from under the chassis.

"I'm a B-cup, you know..."

"And I didn't ask."

"I know, but… just for the record, okay? A B-cup isn't… small."

"I think Mawk would be the better man to talk about this with," Robin replied. "He is your boyfriend after all."

Suddenly the trike lurched and dropped a few centimeters closer to Robin's face. Kimber had sat on the side of the vehicle. Robin released the short breath he'd held and waited for his heart to settle. "Why…"

"It sure hasn't felt like it recently," she replied, completely unaware of the scare she'd just given him. "He hasn't answered my texts today and he's been dodgy lately... He called off our last two dates for some sort of... appointment in Star City. And he's been bulking up. A lot."

There was an awkward silence and Robin murmured an "Mmhmm" just for safe measure.

"Curtis," Kimber asked after another period of silence, her voice hesitant. "Do you think he would cheat on me?"

There was a dull thunk and then an "Ow." Robin wheeled himself out from under the car and stood from the mechanic's creeper he had been using, rubbing his forehead through his cowl. "What did you say?" he asked, incredulous, pulling the cowl from his face.

"Do you think Mawk would cheat on me?"

"That's what I thought you said." Curtis ran his fingers through his curls and sat beside his friend. "What's going on, Kim?"

"I just told you." Kimber gave Curtis a blank face in annoyance. Then her eyebrows raised suddenly. "Also, check it." She reached for her phone.

Curtis shook his head in disbelief. "Kimber?" he asked, "You do realize that you also keep odd hours and 'dash' off, too? And is it because you don't like him or are cheating on him? No, it's because you're Batgirl. You've taken on a big responsibility. A secret responsibility."

"Okay, counterpoint: he isn't a superhero. That much I'm certain of," Kimber clarified. "And look at this!" She held up her phone and scrolled through her call and text logs with Mawk. Their conversations were generic at best and one-sided at worst. Most of Mawk's messages seemed to be just a few sentences in length on average. Kimber's were shorter.

Curtis studied the logs for a moment. "Looks like he doesn't call much, but I don't see any outgoing calls. Wait– don't you hate phone calls?"

She quickly locked her phone and pocketed it. "You're missing my point," she said as she looked at her feet. "There just... isn't as much interest as before."

"From you or from him?" Curtis asked carefully.

"Him! Obviously!" Kimber replied impatiently. She crossed her arms and looked down her nose at her friend.

"Okay, okay. Didn't mean to strike a nerve…" Curtis twisted his mouth to the side. "So you think he's cheating because he isn't calling you a lot and he's increased his workout regimen?"

"Well, there's also the text messages..." Her voice cracked and then trailed off as if even she recognized the rather silly accusation she presented was held up by the flimsiest of circumstantial evidence.

Curtis laughed at the crack in her voice. "Your deductive skills need more work."

"What?" Kimber shot up off her seat in defense. "I am just as good a detective as you!"

Curtis simply arched an eyebrow and studied her. "This is the first time you said your suspicions out loud, isn't it? You gotta realize it sounds ridiculous." Curtis waited for her to joke back, but when she didn't, he continued. "Look, Kim. I get it. But sometimes people have their reasons for acting a certain way. Maybe he's going through something you don't know about. Have you tried to ask him about it?"

"No..." Kimber mumbled back begrudgingly.

"Then how do you expect to fix it?"

Kimber looked away, her expression troubled. There was a part of her, a repressed part, that didn't want to fix it. "It's just... something feels off, you know? A woman's intuition and all..."

"Look, Kimber." He reached out for her hand but hesitated a moment before taking it, hoping she wouldn't take the gesture the wrong way. "Mawk isn't pursuing anyone else. He loves you and he'd have to be out of his mind to cheat on you. If anything, he is probably bulking up for you."

"I'm not that naïve, Curt." She looked at him and her fingers tightened around his. "That doesn't make sense."

"He was a football star! Remember?" He playfully knocked on her skull a few times to which she let out a subdued huff and waved his hand off with a small smile. "He likes workin' out; that's, like, his thing. It's how he clears his head and deals with his stress." Curtis bit his tongue, pondering how much to share. "Last winter, he felt... He felt weak and helpless at his bash. Invaders came into his home and he was dealt a nasty hand. I think that's why he is back in the gym. He likely doesn't want to feel like that again. He's not trying to impress anyone new, Kimber. He's trying to impress himself."

Kimber let Curtis' hand go and pursed her lips into a sarcastic smirk. "Mawk is going through a masculinity crisis? Mawk?" She scoffed. "Sure." She crossed her legs and drew out one of her razor-sharp bat-a-rangs to busy her hands. "And I should believe you, because?"

"I've caught him at the gym a few times. We've chatted. He shared some diet tips, a little more red meat than I'd like." He grinned. But when he saw that Kimber still didn't seem to buy it, he drummed his thighs anxiously. He wasn't good at this. Interpersonal connections and relationships had always been a bit difficult for him, but more than that he was stuck in a bind.

On the one hand, he knew why Mawk was at times cagey and why he was pushing his body to the brink. Since he knew that, he could share it with his friend and relieve her of her concerns. But on the other hand, Mawk made him swear to secrecy, especially regarding Kimber. For whatever reason, Mawk didn't want his girlfriend to know just what was running through his head. At the time, Curtis thought it was silly. He thought perhaps Mawk was being a bit too concerned about what Kimber would think, but now Curtis could tell that something was eating away at her and he likely was the only one in a position to placate her worries.

Was he really about to betray Mawk's trust and come clean about the man's vulnerabilities? He looked at Kimber. The girl was boring a hole through the cave floor with her eyes and he watched a salty tear roll down her tender cheek and come to rest in the corner of her lip. He groaned. He really wasn't good at this. "Alright, I have something to tell you, Kim. He made me promise not to, but I think it's better if you know..." And then he shared how Mawk used to come over late at night and confide in him his secret feelings of inadequacy.

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Tim brushed the tears from his eyes as he walked down the avenue. After dashing out of the secret entrance to the BatCave, his mind was swirling with conflicting emotions. Anger at Bruce for callously discarding and then replacing him, frustration at Bruce for barely even greeting him – not even a true smile! A mix of awe and fury at whoever now claimed Barbara's moniker. She'd claimed to have bested Bane, and all evidence backed up her claim, but she was also an utter asshole. All these thoughts and more consumed him and as he walked from Wayne Manor grounds, he knew he wasn't in a good headspace to call a ride back to Blüdhaven. So he'd walked, angrily, from 1007 Mountain Drive to Gotham. A long walk, but he had the time. How could he have been so stupid? "Barbara was right."

He kicked a tin can at his feet. He shouldn't have gone back. But why not? He was Robin. He was the rightful Robin, not that other… pretender! Just thinking about his lost place in the Bat-Clan stoked the fires of hatred all the more. "Bruce had no right to– Well, I guess he did have the right to, but still! That's my gig! I was the Boy Wonder first!"

"Is that so?" A voice spoke up behind him. "You really shouldn't talk so loud, kid. You never know who's around ya."

Tim recognized that voice immediately. "Dick!" Tim spun around to face the young man and hugged him excitedly.

Dick stepped back and shoved his hands back in his jacket pockets. "Hey, Tim. It's been a while." He looked down at the teen and measured his height with a hand. "Jeez, have you grown! Civilian life treating you well?"

"Totally! I'm kicking butt in school!" He punched at the air and then saw the expression on Dick's face. "Don't worry." Tim held up his hands to alleviate suspicion. "I'm not getting into any fights. Anymore, at least."

Dick tousled his surrogate younger brother's hair roughly with a grin. "I sure hope not."

"How long have you been in town?"

"Long enough. You?"

"Just got in about a day ago to check on Bruce..." The two walked down the street towards the nearest bus stop. "How are you feeling about the breakup of the J-Lords? We haven't spoken to each other since their collapse."

"I couldn't care less, you know I hated that regime."

"Same," Tim responded quickly.

"But I do understand their move to do it." Dick continued.

Tim stopped walking. "What? Why?"

"When you're older, you'll understand, kiddo." Dick gestured for Tim to catch up. "For now, stick with being a kid."

"That's what everyone keeps telling me..." he grumbled. "But I can't help but want to return to the gig. You know, make a difference and all that!"

Now it was Dick's turn to stop walking. He gazed over the skyline with the slightest look of displeasure etched on his face as if staring into a harsh wind. "Tim, do you know what I did after I left Bruce?"

"Not really. I was fired soon after you and then you lost the guy keeping tabs on you, so I dunno."

"I traveled the world to—"

"To train more?" Tim interrupted, hopefully.

"—to help," Dick finished with a scowl. "I traveled the world to help, Tim. I was part of a volunteer relief team. We traveled the world and brought aid wherever it was needed. We built houses, community centers, storm shelters, and sheds. I did medical work and administered vaccines. I helped people, Tim, and I didn't need fancy gadgets or a high-tech supersuit." He put a reassuring hand on Tim's shoulder. "There is more than one way to be a hero."

"But we saved lives back in the day! You and me and the boss! Heck, even Babs for a time!"

"You don't need a batsuit to save lives." Richard glared against the pale red haze of Gotham. "I realize now why I really left being Robin. It wasn't just because I didn't agree with Bruce's methods – I didn't, to be clear – but what I also didn't agree with was the distance. We had to distance ourselves from the people we saved... and I didn't like that. Sure we used our civilian identities to help in the aftermath, but…" He twisted his mouth as he searched for the right words.

"What I'm trying to say is when I'm staring death in the face," he turned to Tim, "I don't want my hero to be a faceless man in a mask. I don't want to be saved by an impersonal agent of justice who will be gone as soon as he arrives. I want someone who cares for me to save me. I want to look up into the warm face of a human being who can empathize, not a dark grimacing face belonging to a detached hero. I don't want to be saved by the Batman. I want to be saved by a human."

"So even if you hand the choice..."

"I'd decline as I did before."

"What do you mean 'before'?"

"Did you really think Bruce could fire me as Nightwing? I wasn't working under him."

"You quit the hero gig?"

"Yep." He plopped down on the bus stop bench and patted the empty spot next to him. "A good few days before the takeover, too. And I've no plans on goin' back."

Tim obliged and sat, eager to catch up but also stunned at Dick's disregard for the mask. "Wow... I don't think that I could define myself without the boots and my cape. I mean, I was a good sidekick, right?"

"I wouldn't say you were the best," Dick ribbed. "But you had your moments."

The two sat in silence for a moment, Richard seeming to drink in the distant ambient sounds of Gotham City and Tim coming to terms with his older brother's revelation. As he sat in thought, a new question popped into Tim's head. "So why are you back in Gotham?"

Dick shrugged. "I've been traveling the world helping people out, I thought it was about time I came home for a visit."

Tim stared into the street and watched a car rush by. "I saw Bruce."

"So you said. How is the old man?"

"He's active again."

"I know."

"He has two new sidekicks."

"Partners," Dick corrected. "The correct term is partners, Tim."

"Either way, I feel cheated. Robin was my title, ya know?"

"It was mine for a time, too." Dick straightened his jacket and looked into the sky as the bus rumbled up to the stop. "But things change and time moves on."

"Well, I wish it didn't."

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The bus ride to Dick's apartment was a light-hearted one. Being in a more enclosed and populated space forced the two to change topics and talk about lighter things. Tim shared more about his improving performance at school as well as his friends, while Dick in turn shared a story about caravaning through Libya. By the time the transport pulled up to the stop before Grayson's flat, the two were laughing like no time had passed. Now, Tim sat in a beanbag chucking a shuriken against the wooden board in the basic training area in Dick's flat while Dick worked on a meal for the two of them.

"Y'know, you don't have to keep doing that, Tim."

Tim threw his last shuriken and then shrugged. "It's a habit." Empty of ammo, he retrieved the three bat-shaped shurikens and chucked them again with deadly precision.

Dick toweled off his hands and then approached Tim. "Well, you may as well get better at it." He snatched one from Tim's hands and then threw it forward. Bullseye.

"Big deal." Tim grinned and threw one. It thudded a few millimeters from Richard's. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He put a hand to his ear. "I can't hear you over how awesome I am."

"Alright, then. How about this?" Dick plucked a pen from a nearby cup and then flung it to the makeshift target. The pen tip thudded into the target just outside of the bullseye circle. "Beat that!"

Eager to meet the challenge, Tim picked a pen from the same cup. "With pleasure," he stuck out his tongue and concentrated. He retracted his arm, but before the pen was out of his hands, someone gently rapped on the flat's door.

Dick looked at Tim.

"What?" Tim asked. "You think I'm the one at the door?"

Dick snorted as he headed for the door. "Just put those away," he said, pointing to the shurikens buried in the board. "If it's the building manager, I don't want him asking more questions."

Tim rolled his eyes but got to work prying the projectiles out of the wood.

Dick unlocked and opened the door but stopped halfway as he recognized the redhead on the other side. "Barbara?"

"Good to see you, Dick." Barbara Gordon looked up at him with a shy smirk on her dark red lips.

Dick stepped to the side in a bit of shock. "It's been a while!" He stumbled over some of his words as she entered his apartment and he caught a whiff of her perfume. "How'd you know I was back?"

"A little bird told me." She winked at Tim.

"Hey, Babs!" He sheepishly waved and then chucked a shuriken at the board.

Dick closed the door and followed behind her. "I was planning on surprising you at the library but it looks like you got the drop on me."

Barbara pulled a small blade from her purse and threw it at the board. The weapon thudded into the board at the dead center of the board, dislodging the pen Dick had thrown. She turned around and gave Richard a sarcastic smile. "Good save, Dick," she replied. "I almost believed you." Despite the cutting words, the glimmer in her eye hinted that she wasn't as sour as she let on.

Dick chuckled and looked over her shoulder to the board. "Still have the magic touch. I'm surprised you still remember your training. Would have thought your skills would have softened behind a desk." He eagerly switched the topic.

Barbara put a hand on her hip and arched her brow. "I live in Gotham. A girl's gotta know how to fight. I teach a women's self-defense class and Muay Thai at the rec center." She threw a quick punch to Dick.

He deftly blocked it, spun her around, and embraced her from behind. "Don't think I've gone lax, too, Miss Gordon," he whispered into her ear. He felt her partially melt into his arms and for a brief moment, he felt regret.

"Or me!" Tim piped up, interrupting the tender moment.

"Of course not you! What with your recent shenanigans… Do your Aunt and Uncle at least know you're in Gotham this time?" She looked over at Tim but when he looked away, she sighed. "Don't answer that." She strode to the target Tim had been using and inspected the shuriken he'd thrown. "Gotta say, you always had a knack for these things." She poked it with her finger a few times to test its give. It was embedded deep. "What's the secret?"

"Before I was Robin, I was on the streets, remember? I'd found one of Batman's bat-a-rangs and trained with it. Kept me safe. And I wasn't throwing these to just knock guys out! It was like a war out there some days."

She looked over her shoulder. "Did you ever..."

"Kill a guy? Nah, but plenty of jerks have some deep scars, let me tell ya."

Barbara stepped away from the training board and leaned against the wall. She looked from Dick to Tim and couldn't help but smile. "I gotta say it sure is surreal seeing you two side by side."

"Why?" Dick asked, hands buried in his back pockets.

"It's like a mirror image of you and Bruce from back in the day."

Dick's face fell slightly. "Gee, thanks, Babs."

"What– Oh! I'm sorry... That's not what I meant!" She stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I meant like a family. A family formed from impossible odds."

Tim shrugged. "She's kinda right... I'm Robin, she's Batgirl, and you were one promotion away from becoming the Dark Knight himself."

"Not exactly a goal I'd aim for," he reminded the youth. "But I freely admit that I do miss the camaraderie… Who'd've thunk it, huh?"

There was a moment of silence, then Barbara spoke again. "Speaking of your folks, Tim, I don't think there's any way they signed off on your trip out here. Especially after last time. They must be worried sick!"

Tim scratched behind his head, hoping someone would bash through the wall and utterly distract the trio from the current conversation. When no such thing happened, he relented to talking. "Well... They think I'm overnighting with a friend."

"Not cool, Tim," Barbara scolded the high schooler. She whipped out her cell. "I'll let them know I've got you."

"It's not technically a lie now!" He gestured emphatically at Dick.

"And I will be taking you back home today. It may be summertime, but that doesn't permit you to rush out here without notifying your family! You're their responsibility."

"What?" Tim cried out. "Why? That's so... lame!"

Behind her librarian glasses, Barbara looked at Tim from under her brow. "Hey, watch your tone. I'd say you got off easy for ditching school last time. But to run away to Gotham a second time with no heads-up to them? Not cool," she reiterated. "And let me guess, you went to see if Bruce would welcome you back to his foolish crusade? What did he even say when you showed up?"

"He said no..."

"Told you."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Dick, you gonna visit the old man?"

Dick looked out the window beyond Gotham's skyline. "I thought about it on the flight over. Was on my way to when I ran into you… I might, just to tie up some loose ends and clear the air between me and the guy before I move to Blüdhaven. Will admit that I'm curious about what cases he's working on."

Tim crossed his arms and took on a somber expression. "I saw some of what was happening at the asylum break, but—"

"Wait, you were at Arkham last night?" Barbara was suddenly back in the conversation. "How the hell?"

"Yeah, I was there!" Tim's face lit up. "Highlight of the year! Kickin' butt and takin' names! Just like old times!" He dropped into a horse stance and his fists flashed out fast and furious. "Saved the new Batgirl's butt, too!" Tim slouched as he remembered the spiteful words he and Batgirl had flung at each other in the BatCave. "She was mean."

Barbara couldn't help but laugh. "And I'm sure that had nothing to do with you interfering with the breakout." She covered her laugh with her hand. "I'd probably be just as upset."

"Don't take her side! She's your replacement! Either way, I'm planning to get back into the hero gig... It's just clear that I need to do it my own way."

Dick shook his head. "Or maybe just drop it and move on, Tim. Like I've said, there's more than one way to make a difference."

"Maybe for you, but for me... Being a hero's all I know."

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A week had passed since the strange boy had jumped the fence of Wayne Manor and Diana was getting cabin fever. She'd spent most of the last few days gardening and, other than taking brisk walks up and down the rather impressive grounds of Wayne's estate, she felt more cooped up than she'd ever had before. Sure, she had run the odd self-made errand just to keep from going crazy, but those were often no more than half an hour among people before rushing back to her temporary home. So when Bruce told her he'd made reservations for her to have a late night out at a Greek restaurant, she got excited.

She'd wanted him to accompany her, but he had a meeting with some fellows from a European firm so she would be going solo. This didn't put too much of a damper on her spirits, though, as she eagerly planned her night out. First, she selected her outfit, a simple sparkly black and blue dress and matching blue heels. From her modest selection of purses, she chose a small, plain black one with a golden latch. She wanted to look good, but she didn't want to draw attention to herself... Or at least, any more attention. When the time was right and her ride had arrived, she bid Bruce a farewell, excited for her night out.

The drive to the restaurant was fast and the closer she got to the destination, the more excited Diana got. It was finally a chance to be among people and just... be. Bruce had reserved a private booth for her under his name, but when she'd showed up at the establishment, she'd been turned away. The host had given some excuse that the booth was unavailable despite the reservation. All of a sudden.

The plans she'd been looking forward to for the past few days were dashed in an instant. While she could read the guilt on the host's face for his lie, more apparent was the fear: the fear of her. Without making a scene, Diana graciously thanked them for letting her know and returned to Wayne Manor to sulk only to find out that Bruce, surprisingly, wasn't at his meeting. She also found out that he was pretty good at ordering to go.

Now, Diana found herself guiding a piece of sushi into Bruce's mouth. "You know," she said, "When I was released from that rehabilitation center, I never would have imagined I'd be cooped up with one of Gotham's most eligible bachelors, helping him eat undersea delicacies."

Bruce finished chewing the fishy food and then swallowed it. "Life comes fast."

She nodded. Her thoughts revisited the event that had played out the hour before. "Are you still getting flack for housing me?"

Yes. "Not really." Bruce shifted in his seat and turned on the television set to pass the time. He'd planned for Diana to be out of the Manor tonight because he'd planned to be away for the night. Tensions were rising between the Jokerz and a local street gang, and the plan was for the Bat-Clan to clean up both sides before things could get too messy. But when Diana returned to the manor teetering between umbrage and tears, something in him couldn't just leave her alone. "You haven't done anything egregious, and I haven't been making a scene recently either. You're fine. I'm fine."

"That's good." She scooted closer to him. "It's nice to know that I won't be turned away from here anytime soon."

"Again, this is a temporary placement..." Bruce tersely reminded her. "But I have to admit, it's nice having someone else in the house again."

"Just don't call me Alfred and I won't complain," she cooed.

Bruce actually laughed and switched the channel to the news. Over the airwaves and between his conversation with Diana, he caught a report about a hijacked private jet. I should...

Diana nuzzled closer into his chest and eventually started purring herself to sleep.

No. Bruce reclined and ran his hand through Diana's hair. They've got this. And he switched the television channel.

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Below Wayne Manor in the BatCave, Kimber sat before the Batcomputer idly scrolling through case files and refreshing her memory on the local gang they were to be up against while Curtis worked over a training dummy. As Curtis came to the end of his kata, Kimber gave a loud groan and let her head fall to the keyboard. "Where is he?"

Curtis struck the mannequin a final time and then headed for the towel rack. "Upstairs, where else?"

"That's not what I meant," she moaned with her head down. "He told us to be ready by nine for briefing and yet here we are, an hour over time, and we haven't even heard a peep from him! If I'm late by even a minute, he reads me the riot act!"

"He's right above us, you know. Perhaps you could head up there and find him?"

Kimber raised her head, her black hair messily cascading over her face. "Really? Invade the sanctity of his home to read him the riot act?"

Curtis grabbed a towel and grinned mischievously. "You know you want to."

Kimber watched him towel off with a contemplative pout through her hair before sighing. "Damn it, you're right," she finally admitted. She slipped off the chair and headed for the stairs.

"Oh, shoot! You're actually going to do it?" Curtis' eyes went wide and he smiled in disbelief. "That's pretty bold."

"No, I'm not," Kimber corrected as she leaned against the cave wall at the bottom of the stairs and pulled her phone out. "I'm going to text him. But I am going to be right here for when he gets down here."

"And then you'll read him the riot act, right?"

Kimber's cheeks went red with embarrassment. "No..." she muttered, losing some of her nerve at the thought of scolding her mentor. "I'll just... glare, I suppose." She found the disguised contact in her phone and shot it a message before going through her other messages absentmindedly. Her phone vibrated as a new message came in and Curtis' head popped up.

"He responded?"

"No, it's Mawk," she replied, disappointed. "Apparently, he got an internship in Star City." Kimber stared at her phone screen with an upturned lip. "Late in the summer for an internship, don't you think?"

Curtis shrugged. "I suppose? But it's not like real life cares for summers, right?" he pointed out. "When was the last time your father got a good three months off? Work is work." He took a seat at the Batcomputer and pulled a sheet of paper out of his backpack.

"I'm just saying it's suspicious."

"And I'm just saying you're looking too much into it." He vigorously erased a mark he'd just made on the paper and muttered a formula to himself before correcting his mistake. "I would think you'd be happy for him."

"I am," she replied with a bit of delay. "I'm just... It's in Star City, Curt. Couldn't he have found a place in Gotham?" She clucked her tongue and stowed her phone in frustration.

"It's with that law firm, right? Don't they have an office in the Diamond District?" Curtis put up a defense for Mawk, again. It was becoming a rather recurring, and tiring, topic. While Kimber seemed more and more adamant that her boyfriend was losing interest in her, Curtis remained steadfast in his opinion that Mawk was still head over heels for her. She was a rather permanent fixture in his social media posts and to any observer, it was clear that Mawk cared for Kimber. Curtis over his shoulder and watched her fiddle with the curls of her hair.

"They do, but I'm pretty sure he's more obliged for the main office. He's even accepted an offer for college out there." She began braiding her hair. "I still think he's hiding something."

Curtis looked away for a moment as a rogue thought gnawed at him. If he didn't know better, he would've guessed that Kimber was seeking a reason to end things. But that couldn't be right. The two had been a power couple through most of high school and after the Winter Bash, they'd become stronger than ever. He chalked it up to his own feelings clouding his judgment. He shook the thought from his mind and faced the paperwork in front of him. "Everyone has their secrets, Kim," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "After all, you are keeping quite a big one from him."

Kimber scoffed. "Name one!"

"Where are you again?"

She looked around the BatCave and then snapped her fingers. "Right."

"What do you tell him when you have to rush here anyway?" Curtis spun in his chair to face the girl.

"I tell him that—" Anymore was cut off by a severe beep. Alfred, the BatCave's A.I., came online and announced a summarized police bulletin. "A plane has been hijacked over the Eastern seaboard and is heading for Gotham Harbor. No group or person has yet claimed responsibility."

"A hijacking? Over Gotham airspace?" Kimber pushed off the wall and pulled on her helmet. "I guess we really aren't heading to Founder's tonight."

"No rest for the wicked, I'd say." Curtis whirled his cape around his shoulders and then began putting on his gloves. As he checked the fasteners, he looked again toward the empty stairs. "Where is the boss? This sounds even more time-sensitive and yet..." He checked his gauntlet for any message from Batman. "Nothing."

"I bet I know what's got him distracted. Or rather, who's got him distracted," Batgirl replied with a smirk as she fastened her belt. "I bet he's with Diana. She was supposed to be out tonight but I bet she stayed in and they're eating."

Robin frowned as he pulled on his cowl. "Now I see why she's a problem."

His rather clinical reply caught her off-guard. "Have you seen her? She's gorgeous."

"Gorgeous isn't going to stop a hijacked airplane."

Batgirl glanced back at the stairs and then relented. "Fine. I'll go grab the boss from upstairs. You see if you can locate that plane." She threw off her helmet and rushed up the stairs, barely pulling her sweats and a loose hoodie over her uniform, just in case Bruce's 'house guest' really was back in the manor. Kimber took extra care when pushing open the grandfather clock; she didn't want to make the same mistake Tim Drake had made days earlier. As she stepped cautiously into the parlor, she couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. After all those months working with the Bat, this was her first time in Bruce Wayne's home.

Once she was fully out of the secret passage, she took a moment to listen for any sign of life. The low, distant droning of a television caught her ear and she figured that would be the best place to start. Kimber carefully navigated the parlor and followed her ears through two tall hallways to a living room of sorts. Inside, she could make out two people on the couch by the light from the screen. As she approached, the sound on the TV went out and in a moment, Bruce's head snapped evenly in her direction. Her heart stopped.

The man looking at her waved her off angrily.

Kimber's heart started back up and she went from fear to frown until the TV program switched to a bright and peppy commercial for Burger Fool illuminated the scene: lying across Bruce's lap was Diana, sound asleep. Kimber's face melted into a smile. She mimed an 'awww' and threw up a thumbs up to Bruce. The multi-billionaire scowled.

Moving on. Kimber made her way back down to the BatCave. Just as she was in the main chamber, Robin tossed her helmet her way. "Thanks," she said as she caught it.

"Found the boss?" He asked as he secured the last gadget onto his belt.

"Yep. He's busy."

"What could be more important than this?"

Kimber gave him a knowing look as she pulled on her Batgirl visage. "A girl?" she answered.

"To the Batman? Right, fat chance." He went over to the Batcomputer to grab the errant plane's call-sign.

"See? This is why you've never had a girlfriend." She approached her Bat-Cycle.

"I have so!" Robin protested. "I'm even talking to someone right now."

"Let me guess: she goes to a different school?" Batgirl smirked at him and ignored the strange pit she felt in her stomach. She knew he wasn't lying, but why did she care?

"Yeah, well, it's true…" Robin made his way from the Batcomputer to the cave wall adjacent to the private dock "By the way, Batgirl, you may want to do a quick check. As far as I'm aware, your bike can't get airborne and I doubt that from even the highest of buildings our bat-claws will catch a plane."

"You have a better idea?"

"I might," Robin replied with a mischievous smile, then flipped a rather large level jutting out of the cave wall. A large steel wall rotated from out of the BatCave's waterfall over the harbor, then tilted at an angle. A ladder unfolded, cascading down from the platform to the metal bridge that spanned the harbor. Resting on the revealed platform like a giant bat ready to take on the night was a uniquely designed aircraft.

"That's not the Batplane," Batgirl observed as she carefully followed Robin to the ladder.

"Yep, found this thing hidden away in the Batcomputer's archives around the time I'd found out about the Bat-Trike. It's some sort of prototype aerial vehicle. A flying wing, if you will."

"A bat...wing? Hey, wait!" She tugged on Robin's cape, attempting to keep him from the cockpit of the Batwing but to no avail. She ascended the ladder and continued her protests. "Are you sure we should be using this?"

Robin started performing preflight checks. He was so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn't even look at her as he responded. "The Batplane's not nearly as maneuverable as we may need to be and this thing's an estimated two times faster. The faster we get there the better, right? Besides, the Batplane is out of commission. Missing wing flaps or something and, again, Batman is nowhere to be found." He looked at Batgirl as if confused as to why she wasn't scrambling onboard. "Batman isn't coming down here and that plane isn't gonna stop itself. We have to do this ourselves! Get the hell in!"

Batgirl looked back over the BatCave as if expecting Batman to have materialized in the middle of the cave. But Batman was not there and time was running out. "Dammit," Batgirl cursed under her breath and barely tumbled in the co-pilot's seat before the cockpit hissed closed. "You're gonna be in so much trouble when we get back... If we get back..." She looked down as the heat from the engine blurred the cave around her. "Do you even know how to fly this thing?"

"I read."

There was no more room for objection as the plane was catapulted out of the cave mouth and up into the night sky.

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The Batwing whizzed over Gotham like a giant guardian shadow. Three pairs of eyes in three different locations turned skyward to watch the dark craft zip over the city against the crisp night sky.

From the large window overlooking the city, Bruce Wayne watched the flying wing soar into the murky clouds. His eyes narrowed and a feeling of rebuke welled up in him. They hadn't asked, they had just acted. As incensed as he felt, he had to applaud their initiative. The woman asleep on his shoulder moaned and shifted her position slightly. Reminded of her presence, Bruce felt another feeling well up in him: relief.

From his penthouse apartment, Ra's al Ghul watched as Batman rushed to save the night once more; off to push back against the relentless tide of evil. With Batman out of the way, even for a precious hour or so, he would be able to launch the next phase of his plan: an increase in manpower. He retrieved a small tape-recorder-sized device from the bag resting on his bed and activated it. There was a slight hiss and then a thunderous crack. The glow from the resulting energy made him smile.

From a deserted street, Kent watched the Bat zip over Gotham City with his telescopic vision. No doubt the Dark Knight was on his way to save more lives that wouldn't be in jeopardy if the Justice Lords were still protecting the world. He looked down into the dark hole and called out to John Stewart, asking if his fancy piece of jewelry could detect anything. The answer was yes. Kent looked back to the sky as the flying Bat disappeared further across the harbor. His flight may be taken and Batman may rule the skies, but soon that would all change. Shayera was found. And she would fight.