ARCHIVISTS NOTES:

Yes, to all of you will complain that Roy is supposed to be living at Titans

Tower, Roy has an apartment for this story. Go with it. It won’t kill you. :)

Author's Notes: 

Disclaimer: These characters belong to DC I make no money off of them. Please 

don't sue. 

Archiving: Those who have archived the Friends series have my permission. Just 

let me know who you are.=)

1. Just wanted to thank Syl for all her help. This story wouldn't even be half 

of what it is now! (You should see the original! *laugh*) So Thank you Syl! Oh 

and the Batman pjs? A homage to Syl's Dick Grayson, who loves his Superman 

pajamas. 

2. And last but not least: If you haven't read the Friends series by Syl Francis 

and Terri Hayes, find it. Now. Email me if you need a place that it's archived 

at. 

Friends 5: Asking

by Recceana Valourwynne ([email protected])

***

Roy Harper slammed his foot into the gut of the opponent facing him. The man 

doubled over, his arms clutching at his stomach. 

“Yeah well don’t throw up on me,” Arsenal muttered as he snagged the knife out of 

his enemy’s boot and threw at another opponent. The knife sailed through the air 

and sliced through the next drug dealer’s jacket and into the floor beneath him. 

The force of the fall knocked the guy unconscious. 

Roy jumped up and swung his leg out, kicking one man in the face and elbowing the 

last guy in the temple. 

Okay, so Roy had picked up a few things from Nightwing.

Grinning, he turned around to look at the six drug dealers in various states of 

consciousness strewn across the alleyway. 

His smile died quickly. Not one of the six dealers was conscious enough to talk. 

And certainly not conscious enough to be useful. Damn. This had to be a talent. 

It seemed like Roy was incapable of ever keeping anyone awake.

Roy folded his arms and stared at the drug dealers. Five of them lay 

unconscious, but the last one, he discovered, was only babbling incoherently. 

Roy walked over the babbling idiot. “So why don’t you tell me who your supplier 

is and I won’t be forced to see how many non vital areas I can find with my 

arrows?” Dark and scary always seemed to work for everyone in the super hero 

community. (Superman being the exception of course.) Maybe it would work for Roy 

as well. 

The idiot gaped at the costumed hero and then started to bawl like a baby. Crap. 

“Or you could just tell me everything you know and I promise not to hurt you. At 

all. Please?” 

The idiot sobbed harder and it was all Roy could do not to scream in frustration. 

Even when he left people conscious, which was becoming increasingly rare, they 

still couldn’t answer any of his questions. They were too busy crying, or 

hyperventilating, or something equally not useful. 

There was a certain amount of defeat in his gaze. After all, Roy was probably 

the best marksman in the world. He could hit any target with any weapon at hand. 

But unlike Dick, he had maybe two detective bones in his body, and he made the 

problem worse by not even keeping the chickie-mooks awake for questioning.

He pulled the knife out of the floor and set to work on tying the men up, ignoring 

the way the idiot began to hiccup when Roy tied him up.  He surveyed his handiwork 

with pride. Now all he had to do was sit and wait for one of them to wake up. 

Which, considering the severe beating Roy had handed out, it might be a while. 

He paced and leaned against the wall and rocked on his legs and considered lying 

down. This whole patience thing was not exactly in his repertoire. 

He crouched low to the ground, expertly twirling the knife into the ground, making 

tiny divots in erratic patterns along the crumpled pavement. 

And then he heard it. 

Roy’s years as a sidekick to a member of the JLA had ingrained in him the sound 

of a cape flying in the air. It was a faint whooshing type of noise and it was 

followed by the soft thump of feet landing on the roof. 

Roy spun around on his feet, the tip of the knife held by his thumb and index 

finger. 

Batman stood in the corner, his cape enclosing him in a sea of black. The only 

identifiable features that Roy could see were the white lenses covering his 

eyes and the grim set of Batman’s mouth. Roy thought Batman looked like a guy 

who’d just gotten back from a vacation in hell. 

“Hi,” Roy managed as he brought himself out of his defensive posture.

Batman stood in silence, probably watching Roy behind his night vision lenses. 

Arsenal waited, but Batman said nothing and didn’t move. He started to wonder if 

this Batman was just a statue that someone had set there to scare away criminals. 

Like the owls people put on roofs to keep the other birds away. But no, Roy had 

heard the swish of a cape, so the figure before him was probably the real Batman. 

“Okay.” Roy eased a smile onto his face. “Let’s try that again. Hi. Now you say 

‘hi’ back. Okay?”

Batman moved swiftly past Roy and looked over the six drug dealers. “Were you 

going to leave any of them conscious enough to interrogate?”

This was really going to be one of those nights. 

“Look,” Roy put the knife in his hand into a small ankle holster. “I berate 

myself just fine. I don’t need any help from you.”

Batman paused for half a second, almost as if he was going to reply. But no, 

Batman simply turned back to the men lying on the roof. The direction of his 

head told Roy that Batman’s gaze was fixed on the babbling idiot. 

The idiot seemed to notice it too and actually stopped babbling. Batman 

approached the loon, his careful measured steps echoing off the nearby 

taller buildings. The idiot swallowed noticeably in fear – Roy understood the 

feeling completely. Batman probably gave Superman the creeps on occasion.

Batman picked the guy off the ground and held him out over the edge of the 

roof. 

Batman had such nice ways of making people completely coherent. 

The idiot struggled uselessly against the ropes that bound his hands and feet. 

“Wh-what do you w-wa-want?” he stuttered out.

“I want you to tell me everything that this man wants to know.” Batman’s voice 

was cold and hard with an air of undeniable authority. Roy barely suppressed a 

shudder.

The idiot looked at Arsenal hopefully as if to say, ‘ask me questions so he’ll 

leave me alone!’ 

“Who’s your supplier?”

“Vincent Aames. He passes the stuff out on Third Street over by the car parts 

shop.” 

“Where does Aames get his supplies?” Batman interjected.

“I- I dunno! I swear. I just started dealing from Vinnie last week!” He was 

starting to freak out. “Please, don’t kill me, Batman! I don’t know anything!”

Batman frowned. He leaned into the poor guy and stared him in the eyes. 

“I see.” 

The words were spoken softly but with enough threat to send the idiot into 

another bout of shivers.

“Okay. I heard Vin’s been picking up some new stuff from one of the big dealers 

downtown. I dunno who. Vin’s not much of a talker y’know?”

“Oh, I’m sure he can be persuaded to sing given the right perspective,” Batman 

assured the idiot. 

The idiot eagerly nodded his agreement. Batman could give anyone the right 

perspective. 

Batman, obviously satisfied with the information he’d gotten, turned and dropped 

the idiot on the roof. The idiot passed out from relief before he even hit the 

ground. 

Roy frowned. “Well, thanks for the help. I’ll see you around.” Roy turned towards 

the door that opened into the building. 

“Oracle told me that you’re following a drug case. Something about poison?”

Roy shifted feet. To reply or not to reply? While Roy didn’t exactly want Big-

Dark-and Scary hanging around all night he also wasn’t exactly going to look a 

gift horse in the mouth. 

“Well, sort of.”

Batman waited in silence. 

Roy sighed and resigned himself to explaining what he was working on. “I keep an 

eye on the drug situation. I don’t think I need to explain why. And I was beginning

 to notice a lot more ODs than normal. So I asked Oracle to check for me in hospital 

records and such. What I narrowed down was that the kids buying coke in and around 

the East Side of town keep dying from apparent overdoses. But nobody was doing any 

autopsies, so they were just *apparent* overdoses. Not necessarily OD’s. And I 

figure that someone’s selling bad stuff.”

Batman actually seemed to be listening. At least, Roy figured he was paying 

attention by the ever-increasing frown on Bat’s face. 

“I knew that these guys worked the streets over on the East Side and a lot of the 

dead kids were coming from their selling pool. So I thought I’d work my way up.”

Batman nodded thoughtfully. “All right, let’s get to Third Street and have a 

‘talk’ with Vincent Aames.” Batman looked over at Roy as he headed to the edge 

of the roof again. “How did you get here?”

“Starfire Express.” Roy replied with a smirk. Just because his car was 

unavailable didn’t mean that Roy didn’t arrive in style. 

“I thought you had a car.” Batman said without preamble.

“It’s in the shop.” Roy answered. At Batman’s silence Roy continued on. “Lian 

used the windshield for target practice.”

Batman made a sound that suspiciously sounded like a laugh. And to add to Roy’s 

suspicion…there it was. A renegade smile. “Third Street isn’t that far away. Why 

don’t we take the rooftops?”

Crud. That meant Roy was going to have to go swinging about town on one of those 

batgrapple thingies. 

Batman pulled out said rooftop-traveling device and handed it to Roy. Arsenal 

accepted it without comment. Batman shot his off with an ease that certainly 

escaped Roy. Batman and Dick always acted like it was perfectly natural to go 

around with a pencil thin rope as the only thing keeping you from falling 

eight stories to pancakedom.

Roy shot his off and watched while it landed onto the roof across the way. And 

then, when fairly sure it was secured Roy leapt from the roof and tried not to 

scream.

They made it to Third Street in less than twenty minutes. 

Roy couldn’t have been more relieved when his feet landed on the ground. 

He saw a sharp hand gesture from Batman and slunk into the shadows with the older 

man. They stood in silence for a little while. Roy kept shifting his weight from 

one foot to the other; half to keep primed and half out of nervousness. Batman 

stood completely still, all marble statue except for the continuously moving eyes. 

It was freaky in a way that only Batman could attain. 

Roy finally took the initiative. “So um… why are you helping me?”

“You weren’t at your apartment.” Batman’s answer was immediate and blunt.

Roy glanced over at the older man. “Why were you at my apartment?”

Batman focused a full fifty percent of his attention on the young man next to 

him. Dinah had demanded this of Bruce and for her sake he was planning on doing 

this in as painless a manner as possible. 

“I needed to talk to you.”

Roy’s eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline. Batman wanted to talk to *him*? 

This could not be good. Batman didn’t talk; he ordered. Which meant… 

“Dick’s okay right?” Roy blurted out. His mouth went racing off in the direction 

of his mind. “I mean he’s not dead or anything. Right? I saw him yesterday at 

headquarters and he was fine. In a good mood even! Muttered something about 

seeing Oracle which meant he was soooo not going out on duty. So he’s perfectly 

okay. I know he is! Isn’t he?” The last question was uttered with a weak voice.

Batman made a sharp chopping motion, stopping Roy’s babbling. “Dick’s fine. I’m 

here because of Dinah.” Before Batman could continue, Roy — who’d always been 

quicker with his mouth than his brain — ran off with that half explanation.

“Dinah?” His voice was small, terrified even. “What happened to her? Is she 

okay? I mean…I know she isn’t always that responsible when she’s on duty. I mean, 

there’ve been times that she made Ollie look safe in comparison! But she’s never 

gotten herself into anything she couldn’t handle--”

“Nothing has happened to Dinah,” Batman cut in. Would Roy ever let him finish a 

sentence?

Roy leaned against the wall, mentally exhausted form the leaps of logic he’d 

just taken. “Then wha—hey that’s Aames!”

Batman glanced sharply over to the man Roy had pointed out. He was well dressed, 

his blond hair slicked back. He wasn’t tall, probably not over five-foot nine 

inches but he carried himself with a sense of importance. From the tailored 

suit, and the well-made shoes Batman guessed that this Aames character wasn’t 

exactly bad at his job. Which gave Batman all the more reason to strike fear 

into Aames’ soul.

“You know him well.” It was not a question. Which seemed to be common with 

Batman. He didn’t ask; he knew. Batman was just prompting Roy to elaborate.

“Yeah.” Roy coughed slightly, his face flushed with embarrassment. “He was one 

of my main dealers way back when. From his clothes I’d say that he moved up in 

the ‘business’ world.”

“How well do you know him?”

“I don’t know where he lives or where he gets his stuff. If that’s what you 

mean.” Roy replied, pressing his fingers against his red domino mask. The 

sunglasses style of hiding his face was a little silly at night. And he was glad 

that he’d pulled the old domino out. Working with Batman felt like it required a 

mask; if only to partially hide his own reaction from the big black bat. “I also 

don’t know who his boss is. But I do know that he’s a man of patterns. He has a 

set way of doing things and an exact route day after day.”

“Then we might be able to follow him to the place that they manufacture the 

cocaine.” Batman’s voice held grim satisfaction. “If tonight’s the night he gets 

the drugs.”

“It is.” Roy nodded, his mouth set in a grim frown that mirrored Batman’s. “The 

dealers start selling new stuff every Tuesday. Vin can’t afford to have that much 

cocaine lying around for long, so I’m gonna bet that he picks it up on Monday and 

meets the guys Tuesday at a regular meeting place. And since today’s Monday, we 

might just be in luck.”

“Unless he’s already gone.” Batman pointed out.

Roy gave Batman the cocky smile that he was known for. “But that’s why you’re 

here. If he hasn’t led us to the drugs then you can *make* him lead us.”

Batman nodded in silence back at Roy. He watched as Aames walked into a dingy 

office across the way. The once white shades in the windows were pulled, 

preventing Batman from seeing inside the building. 

“Should we wait?” Roy asked.

Batman once again nodded.

“Okay.” Roy agreed. “So about what you were saying earlier…something about 

Dinah?”

Batman shifted his position slightly. Which he really didn’t have to, Roy knew 

that. 

Roy remembered Dick’s early frustrations with trying to hold the same position 

for a long length of time. In fact, if Dick was to be believed, Batman could 

spend a whole night without shifting his feet once. Which Roy figured was an 

over-exaggeration, but still the fact that Batman had so obviously shifted his 

feet had to indicate something! 

Was Batman…well…uncomfortable? Roy dismissed the thought immediately. Nothing 

made Batman uncomfortable. Except for emotional expression. 

Roy smiled at his inner joke.

Batman felt uncomfortable. He’d never been good at the personal. Batman was the 

consummate professional. Most emotional ties went unacknowledged except for the 

barest of hints. But what Dinah was asking him – telling him - to do was indeed 

personal. An admittance of emotional ties. 

It wasn’t that Bruce didn’t love Dinah enough to do this for her. It was more 

that he wasn’t sure if he could do this at all. Besides, what exactly was he 

supposed to do if Roy said no?

Batman shrugged off his discomfort. He was, after all, Batman, and he had long 

ago learned to stow away any emotions that interfered with his goals. Visually 

focusing on the window that gave him a clear view of Aames he addressed Roy. 

“Since you’re the closest thing that Dinah has to a son she…said that I needed 

your permission.” Batman allowed a moment for Roy to absorb that information, 

before he continued. “Roy, may I have your permission to marry Dinah?”

Absolute silence followed what was probably the most unexpected question of 

Roy’s life.  

Batman flicked his eyes away from Aames and onto Roy. Even if Roy said no, 

even if Dinah decided that he’d gone about this the wrong way, even if Dick 

laughed himself silly about this whole conversation Batman would still be glad 

he’d come to Roy. 

The expression on Roy’s face was just priceless. Slack-jawed, with his eyebrows 

clearing his domino mask practically by inches, Roy was the image of shock. If 

only Bruce had thought to bring a camera.

“M-ma-marry Dinah?” 

If Roy had been drinking anything it would probably have been spit across the room 

by now. 

“I knew you guys were dating and geez it had to be serious. The fact that you too 

were even involved said you had to be serious about it at least! But marriage?”

A movement at the corner of his eyes drew Batman’s attention away from Roy. 

“He’s on the move.” 

Roy snapped his mouth shut. Had Batman even been listening? Or was he just 

waiting for the magic words of approval? Frankly what Roy had in mind went 

something more like this: ‘yes of course Mr. Flying Rodent, you may marry the 

woman who has stuck with me more than anyone else in my life. Even though I know 

that you’re a jerk when it comes to the people you love – Dick ring a bell for 

anyone? - I still think it’s an absolutely wonderful idea for you to whisk Dinah 

away into holy matrimony where she can rot in the angst pit known as the Bat

family.’ 

Batman’s eyes followed Aames to his car as he readied himself for pursuit. He’d 

felt Roy’s change in emotion. Shock had disappeared to be replaced by noticeable 

tension. It was resentment if Batman was reading him right. Roy was probably 

wondering how quickly Dinah would forget about him, or some low self-esteem 

induced idea. Batman made his preparations for travel a bit more obvious and 

soon Roy was mimicking Batman, as expected.

Aames started up his car and soon Batman and Arsenal were in close pursuit. Roy 

seemed to be getting more comfortable with rooftop-to-rooftop travel. Silence 

reigned because of the constant movement and their lack of nearness.  

Aames car was traveling at leisurely paces down the streets. The 80’s new wave 

music that Arsenal could hear even through the cars closed windows and doors was 

really getting on his nerves. 

They came to a halt at a small warehouse on the East Side. Aames’ car had stopped 

outside of it as Batman had landed on the rooftop without a sound. Roy’s landing 

was slightly less balanced.  Batman reached a hand out and latched onto Roy’s 

shoulder to steady him. Stealth would have meant nothing if Roy had fallen on his 

face on the metal grating for all to hear.

They watched as Aames sang in his car. He was aloud enough to be heard over the 

radio and through the doors. He didn’t sing well, at least not Depeche Mode. 

Roy cringed. “Do you have any batplugs?” he whispered to the Dark Knight. Batman 

glanced over at him but said nothing. “You know ear plugs that are black…and … 

batty… never mind.” Batman never did have a sense of humor.

Aames turned the radio up a little louder, managing to drown his voice out. 

Roy was ever so grateful. 

It certainly didn’t seem that Aames was planning on getting out of the car anytime 

soon. Especially considering the robotic hand motions he was doing as a sort of 

sitting dance to “Mr. Robot.” Roy never before realized what a dork Aames was. With 

his clothes and his attitude, Roy had pictured him more as a pretend rap hip-hop 

lover. Instead he was faced with a man who secretly embraced his inner white geek. 

“It’s ten to two. He’s probably waiting until the hour to go in.” Batman suggested, 

his voice gruff from either annoyance or withheld laughter. Roy was going with the 

laughter. “Perhaps he has a meeting time.”

“Or he’s really loving Eighties Friday night.” Roy cracked managing to only chuckle. 

“So we have ten minutes than?”

“Yes.”

Roy sighed to himself, it was probably better to get this over with now. Have it all 

hit the fan before Aames went inside. 

“No.”

Batman was silent for a minute. A full minute. He knew what Roy meant, he knew that 

Roy wasn’t going to give him permission to marry Dinah. So he took a full minute to 

respond, a minute to tie down the anger that instantly bubbled within. Anger would 

accomplish nothing but perhaps alert everyone to their presence. Besides, he wanted 

to know Roy’s reasons before he allowed himself to be angry. 

“Why?”

“I’ve seen what you’ve done to your loved ones,” Roy explained. “I’m not going 

to agree - to approve of Dinah involving herself in that permanently.” Roy was 

still watching Aames, a ghost of a smile on his lips. There wasn’t a smile in his 

eyes, though – there was pain.

“What are you talking about?” Batman’s voice was cold, hard. It was the voice that

had made Roy fear him when he was younger. The voice that still made a little voice 

in Roy’s head scream ‘run while you can!’

“Give me a break,” Roy ran a hand through his hair. “I know Dick, okay? I’ve 

seen what all your *love and attention* have done for him. He used to try and be 

as perfect as possible just for a little praise for you. He still bends over 

backwards for just a little attention. And all you give him is criticism. I’ve 

seen it happen. He leads the Titans on some successful mission and when he comes 

back the only thing you do is tell him how he could have done better. You never 

asked if he was okay, you never told him you were worried about him. You never 

told him how great he was, or that you loved him. You’ve never told him anything 

that he wants -- needs to hear. I know what it’s like; I’ve been there. Ollie did 

that same thing just with a different style.” 

Roy took a deep breath before continuing on. Batman made no move to interrupt 

him. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you’re Mr. Tough-love, or something. Maybe the way 

you show your feelings is through your tight-lipped, over-protective, grim 

attitude. But it’s not enough. It isn’t.” 

Roy’s voice had stayed calm through the entire speech; he hadn’t raised it above 

the soft tones used during stake out. Knowing Roy’s temper, Batman was slightly 

impressed. 

That, however, didn’t change his response. 

“And what does any of this have to do with Dinah?”

“Everything.” Roy turned his eyes away from the Bat and back down to ‘Mr. 

Roboto.’ “Ollie wasn’t exactly great to Dinah. He was a jerk. He cheated on her 

and hurt her more times than I can count. She never deserved a guy like that. 

She deserves someone who loves her enough to treat her like he loves her. She 

deserves *everything*. And if you can’t even give your son that how can you 

expect to be that way for your wife?”

Aames’s car door opened and Roy couldn’t conceal his surprise. He hadn’t even 

heard “Video Killed the Radio Star” end. Batman turned his attention away from 

Roy and back to the scum down below. 

Aames walked over to the door and stepped inside, effectively cutting off Batman’s 

view. Batman moved away from the edge of the roof and over to the skylight in the 

middle of the roof. Below him was a processing plant like any other. 

Then again there were a few distinctive characteristics. Unlike most processing 

plants, where in people made the drugs sloppily and without any thought to 

cleanliness, this warehouse was spotless. The six men and two women inside of it 

were dressed in lab coats and seemed to be taking their occupations rather 

seriously. 

Aames stepped inside and crossed over to a balding man standing in the center of 

the room. Batman pulled something out of his utility belt and pressed it against 

the glass of the skylight. He handed Arsenal what looked to be one half of a 

headphone. Roy watched as Batman placed his half next to his cowl covered ear. 

Roy copied the motion and secured the device in his ear. Sound filtered in and 

he heard Aames clearing his throat in time with the actual motion.

“How’s it coming?” Aames glanced over at a table covered in strewn papers.

The balding man sifting through those papers looked up. “The batch is weaker 

this time.”

“Good,” Aames replied, his eyes scanning the room. “The bosses weren’t too happy 

with the results from the last time.”

The balding man strode away from the table and over to a cupboard. He opened the 

doors, revealing large bags of cocaine on several shelves. “Too many died,” the 

man observed, picking out several bags.

“Way too many,” Aames answered, his attention focused on one of the women. “You 

don’t figure this out soon and the PD will be on to us. We can’t keep having 

this many kids dying. Somebody’s going to start suspecting something.”

The balding man stopped a few feet from Aames, a cross expression on his face. 

“This is science, Vinnie, not a game. I need test subjects in order to get 

the dosage correct.”

“Well figure it out!” Aames snapped. “If you experiment for too much longer we 

won’t have anybody to experiment on!”

“The kids on the street are not important.” The balding man said in a slow, 

measured tone, as if he were explaining something to a small child. “They can’t 

afford very much, no matter what they’re stealing or who from. That’s why we’re 

doing this. If I can perfect my recipe for finer synthetics than we’ll be making 

more money off of our wealthy clients than we never thought of. The children are 

just cattle waiting to be culled.”

Aames reached over and snatched the bags out of the man’s hands. “Fine. Whatever. 

See you next week.” Aames headed back towards the door. 

Roy heard a small click that sounded suspiciously like a tape recorder. He 

glanced over at Batman, who smiled that rare, chilling smile. 

Batman stood up quickly, his cape gathering around him as he slipped the 

headphones and tape recorder back into his utility belt. “I’ve recorded enough 

evidence for the police. Now why don’t we gift-wrap the scum? Don’t worry, this 

time you don’t have to keep them conscious.” 

“Funny,” Roy grimaced in return and pulled his bow off his back. 

Batman, as expected, crashed through the skylight dropping down upon the people. 

Roy shot off an arrow with a rope connected to it and used the rope to swing in 

behind the Bat. 

The bald man stood in place, too shocked to say a word. Aames made a mad dash 

for the door while the five others screamed and ran for cover. 

Batman made himself Aames business while Roy grabbed the nearest coffee cup and 

hit the bald man in the head with it. 

“Idiot,” Roy muttered as he scouted out his next opponent. The young blond girl 

was skittering around, apparently trying to find a good hiding place. Roy grabbed 

a rubber band and snapped it at her. It landed right between her eyes and she 

cried out at the unexpected sharp pain. 

A man behind Roy started to run towards the door. Roy fired an arrow that went 

right through the man’s lab coat and imbedded itself in the wall. The man came 

to a sudden halt and Roy fired off several arrows in quick succession to secure 

the man to the wall. 

The girl, meanwhile, had bent her head down to rub the growing welt above her nose. 

Roy picked up a paper clip and sent it flying through the air to plunge into the 

wall just an inch from her nose. She gasped in shock and stood stock still for the 

second Roy needed to send the chain he’d broken off one of the cupboards careening 

into her legs. She dropped to the ground as the chain wound its way around her shins. 

Roy looked around for his next target. 

Aames was trying to convince the door handle to turn for him when Batman appeared at 

his side. Batman’s black gloved hand darted out from behind the cape and latched onto 

Aames shoulder. Aames looked up at Batman and screamed like a girl. Batman blinked at 

the range Aames possessed and the slammed his fist into Aames’ face. Aames crumpled 

in a heap at Batman’s feet. 

Batman turned around, pulling his batarang from inside the cape and letting it fly 

across the room. It collided off the largest man’s head. 

Five down and two to go. 

Batman executed a quick back kick hitting the table behind him. It flew up and over to 

reveal a large woman scrambling to load a gun, her hands shaking with each movement. 

She didn’t even see his boot coming. 

Batman reached up and caught the batarang on its return. 

Roy finished off the last man, a small guy with thick glasses and hair that made 

him look like an electrocuted poodle. One flying pager at the right angle and 

the guy was merely a lump of frizzed curls and lab coat. 

Roy chuckled and looked over at Batman, who was already tying up the unconscious 

criminals. The adrenaline rush left Roy almost immediately. Batman was still here 

and Roy was still going to have to finish their conversation. 

“So what now?” he asked as he bent down and tied the girl’s hands to match her feet

with the rope Batman had thrown his way. 

“Oracle has alerted the cops. They should be here soon,” Batman informed him. 

“And after they come?” Roy went over to the small, frizzy man and started tying. 

“What then?” 

“We go back to your apartment and continue our talk.” Batman replied. Roy nodded 

his agreement and they finished securing the criminals. 

The way back to Roy’s was silent, Batman was focusing on his rebuttal and Roy… 

was beginning to understand why Dick loved the night. Everything was different 

in the dark, the city was cloaked in shadow and if you didn’t look closely it 

appeared as if everything was just fine. And even swinging from rooftop to 

rooftop wasn’t as nauseating as it had been the first two times. It was still 

fear inspiring but at the same time it gave Roy a feeling akin to awe. To be so 

removed from the rest of the world, to be so above them. 

Roy slipped in his window, followed by Batman. Roy yawned and stretched his 

arms. He opened his mouth to say something but never got the chance. Batman was 

already across the room, holding Chanda, the baby-sitter, tightly by the arm. 

“Who are you?” Batman asked. 

Chanda looked like she was going to pee her pants. 

“She’s the baby-sitter.” Roy pulled money, quite a bit more than he’d originally 

intended from his wallet. Hopefully it was enough cash to convince Chanda to 

come back. 

Batman released Chanda’s hand and the girl rushed over, snatched the money out of 

Roy’s hands and left without closing the door. Roy shut the door and neither he nor 

Batman chose to comment. Instead Batman asked, “She knows your identity?” 

“Well,” Roy replied, “that’s sort of Dinah’s fault. She hired her.” Roy walked 

into Lian’s bedroom to check on his little girl. 

She was sprawled in all her Batman pajama glory across the bed, her blankets 

lying in a puddle on the floor. Roy bent over and picked the blankets up. 

He looked up to see Batman staring at Lian’s black pajama top with the yellow 

and black bat emblem and her black bottoms covered in the same emblem. 

“Donna made them for her.” Roy explained with a sheepish smile. “She’s going 

through a Batman phase.” 

“She has much better taste than Dick ever did,” Batman commented. 

Roy covered his daughter back up and left her to her dreams. 

“Roy, I’d like to talk.” 

“Talk away.” Roy waved his hand in offering at Batman as he walked over to the 

fridge and pulled out a soda. “Want something to drink?” 

He turned around to find Batman, sans cowl, standing in the kitchen doorway. 

Roy barely managed to catch the soda can before it hit the floor. 

“You made valid points.” Bruce admitted, careful to not comment on Roy’s 

surprise. 

He’d decided to approach this in as open a way as possible. It was 

obvious he wasn’t going to get anywhere by ordering Roy around. This was 

important to Dinah and that made it important to Bruce. So he’d decided on the 

way to Roy’s apartment to face Roy as Bruce and not as the Bat. He just hoped 

that Roy would react better to Bruce. 

“Unfair,” Bruce continued, “but valid.” 

Roy sank onto the couch, marveling at the intelligent look on Bruce’s face. 

Every time he’d ever seen Batman out of costume he’d been in another costume as 

a vapid millionaire. 

Bruce sat down in the chair across from the couch and went on. 

“You do know Dick. You know that our relationship isn’t always good. But Roy, 

sometimes it is. Dick is my son and things are hard between fathers and sons. 

I think you know that.” 

“Yeah,” Roy admitted, his voice a little on the hoarse side. “I have a little 

experience in that area.” 

“Not all of my problems with Dick are my fault,” Bruce explained. “Sometimes 

they’re his. He’s rebellious and anxious to prove himself to me. But that’s my 

relationship with Dick and it has nothing to do with my relationship to Dinah.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Roy took a sip from his soda. “Every relationship 

you have affects every other-“

“Roy, let me talk.” Bruce interrupted sharply. He needed to fully explain before 

Roy started shooting his reasons down. “Dinah and I are adults. What we have is 

not a relationship strangled by time and old wounds. We’re honest with each 

other and on equal terms. I don’t take marriage lightly. I love her and I want 

to spend the rest of my life with her. It may not be the best life but if we’re 

in it together it will be the closest we can come to it. I want the best for 

Dinah and I won’t ever hurt her. You have my word.”

Roy was quiet for a long time, mulling over Bruce’s words. “Don’t make promises 

you can’t keep,” he admonished Bruce. “Dinah’s going to get hurt no matter what 

happens. Life is full of pain.”

“I know that Roy,” Bruce cut Roy off again. 

Roy stopped sheepishly. Bruce Wayne did know that life was full of pain, 

probably better than anyone else Roy knew. 

“Sorry,” Roy apologized. “But…do me a favor. Promise me that when she does get 

hurt you’ll comfort her. Promise me that you’ll take care of her.”

“I promise,” Bruce answered with utter certainty.

“Okay,” Roy said with a nod. “You have my permission.”

“Thank you,” Bruce replied, the honest thanks actually apparent in his voice. 

Roy was stunned but warmed by it. “I assume she’ll want you at the wedding, but 

you’ll have to work out the details with her.”

Roy grinned, the idea of walking Dinah down the aisle…now that was appealing! 

“So, uh, welcome to the family.” Roy offered his hand to Bruce.

Bruce shook it firmly. “Same to you.

“I always wanted to be part of the Bat-family.” The small grin widened 

dramatically. “Should I change my name? NightAresenal, BatArrow, something like 

that?”

“Ha-ha,” Bruce smirked, slipping the cowl back on as he stood.

“Well I’ll see you around, I guess.” Roy stood as well.

“Yes. You will.” Batman moved back over the window and climbed out on the sill. 

Roy followed him over and watched as he shot off a line.

Just as Batman swung off, Roy shouted, “Bye dad!” 

Roy was sure he heard a grumble in response. 

***

El Fin