The Way Back #3

"So, that's how it stands," Dick said. "We know that the Ghost Dragons are involved in diamond smuggling. My first thought was conflict diamonds, but so far, there's been nothing to link the 'Dragons with UNITA or any of the other insurgency movements that we typically hear about in connection with that kind of thing."

"Yakuza?" Black Canary asked.

"Maybe," Dick frowned. "But the 'Dragons originate from Hong Kong, not Japan. That usually means the Triads. Now, if they're converting their cash assets to diamonds..."

Green Arrow nodded. "Money laundering concerns aside, stones are a better investment than cash, these days." He poured another cup of coffee and leaned back against the sofa cushions.

"Normally," Dick said, "I wouldn't be asking this, but with Selina away and Roy on a League mission-"

Dinah shook her head. "No problem. I'm the one who sent him on that mission. We're here."

"Talk to Batgirl," Dick said seriously. "She fought them last night. I've heard her report, but she might have some other details."

"We will. Is Babs upstairs? I just want to say, 'hi'."

Dick nodded. "She's been up there all afternoon."

"I'll wait down here," Ollie said. "Hurry back, Pretty Bird."

Once Dinah left, Ollie took a deep breath. "How's Bruce doing?"

Dick started to collect the empty cake plates. "Do you really care?" He asked quietly.

The archer's face reddened, though it was hard to tell whether it was from anger or embarrassment. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

Dick stacked the Corelle plates noisily, one atop the other. Then he reached for the cutlery and slammed each piece, one at a time, on the topmost plate. "I'm curious, Oliver." He carried the plates into the kitchen and dropped them into the sink with a clatter. "You were aware of what happened. I know for a fact that Roy told you about it within a week of the arrest. And in all this time, you haven't set foot in Gotham. You haven't asked after him. Now that he's out, you're suddenly Mr. Concerned?"

Ollie's expression hardened. "I don't think I care for your tone, Dick. Let me ask you, do you honestly believe he would have wanted me to see him like that?"

"No," Dick admitted. "He wouldn't have. And you wouldn't have gotten in anyway. I'm not really upset that you didn't try. But in two years, this is the first time you've ever shown an interest."

"This may come as a shock to you," Ollie drawled, "but I do talk to Roy and Dinah on occasion. They gave me updates. You and I both know that he wouldn't have liked the idea of me encroaching on his turf after..." his voice trailed off. "Well... you know why he quit the League."

"Yeah," Dick snarled. "Because the people he thought he could count on turned around and stabbed him in the back. Tell, me Ollie: did it get any easier the second time?"

Oliver Queen's mouth dropped open. "Why, you little punk..." he said softly, but with venom. He lunged forward, fist upraised.

Dick was ready for him. The next thing Ollie knew, he was on the floor, and Dick was twisting his arms behind his back.

"You care to try that again?" he asked. "C'mon, Ollie. Anytime you want to. It won't change the fact that when people need you, you either shove them away or you cut and run."

"Look who's talking!" Ollie snapped. "Listen, 'Pot'! You want to say Bruce needed you? Fine. Dandy! But while you were being a good little boy and protecting Gotham, the rest of us were trying to save the damned universe!" He struggled to break loose, but Dick's hold was firm. "Everyone knows you're one of the best people to have on hand in a crisis. If Bruce couldn't be there, you were our next best hope." He twisted his head back as far as he was able, and glared at his captor. "Well, this time, you weren't around, and it cost Kon his life. I almost lost Roy and Mia-would have, if Dinah hadn't gotten there in time to shriek Alexander Luthor's blaster to high-tech shards. As it was, they were both in ICU for weeks. Maybe if you'd bothered to show up, you would've concocted a better plan, but you didn't. So we did what we could." What his voice lost in volume, it made up for in coldness. "And I almost watched two of the people I care for the most die in front of me. And you know something, Dick? That kind of risk comes with the territory. So do sacrifices for the greater good. Which don't include you bat-brats wimping out and staying in your own little corner of the globe. And Bruce would have told you the same thing!"

"Yeah? Well with Bruce, it wasn't almost! You know something, Ollie?" Abruptly, Dick released him. "You pegged it." He gave a quick, bitter laugh. "That's exactly what Bruce would've told me. But here's the thing. If I'd been in the kind of bind he was in, he would've dropped everything and stood by me. Which is more than you did for him, when you could've spoken out at the Watchtower after what happened with Dr. Light. Not to mention," he added acidly, "it's more than you ever did for Roy when he needed you."

Ollie stood up, rubbing his wrists. "Is that so? Well, if you and Bruce were Opie and Andy, then where was Daddy of the Year when Joker shot you? Or when your wedding to Starfire turned out to be a real blast? How about after you joined the mob, Renegade?" He blocked Dick's swing and countered with one of his own. Dick grabbed his wrist. The two men glowered at each other. "Stop acting so self-righteous, Richard. Or should I say, 'Dick'? People screw up. You. Me. Him. If I had my life to live over, maybe I'd do a few things differently-but I don't. And if you're expecting me to start weeping and wailing about how horrible I was for not being there for you and yours, when you basically left us high and dry? It won't happen. I made my choices and I'll stand by them."

Dick shook his head. "You know what? You're right." He saw the fury in Ollie's eyes give way to shock. "You're right," he repeated with a slight smile. "You had to make a tough choice and you did. And maybe, if Bruce or I had been in your shoes, we would have even made the same one. But once the... crisis was over, we would have touched base to make sure that everything worked out; and if it hadn't... we would have been there. Even if it was too little, too late. We would have done something."

"Yeah? What?"

"I don't know," Dick admitted. "But I don't think it would have involved ignoring you for two years. And if I'm wrong, and it had, I do know this: we wouldn't have shrugged off your reproaches with a 'them's the breaks'. Seriously, Queen, that was cold." He shook his head. "I'm going up to check on Babs. Try to be gone when I get back."

He pulled the door open to reveal Dinah, her hand extended as though she was reaching for the knob.

"Is everything okay?" she asked uncertainly.

Oliver nodded. "We're fine. I was just waiting for you, Pretty Bird. Let's go get some air." He forced a smile. "Be seeing you, Dick."

"Later, Queen," Dick said, just as coolly. "Stay classy."

He waited until he knew that they were gone, and until he was sure that he had a handle on his temper. Then he went up to Barbara.

"A kid?" Dinah asked, incredulous.

Cassandra nodded. "Voice was... too light to be adult. The way the deck vibrated, I think he weighed maybe..." she frowned. "Less than I do. Maybe..." she crossed over to the rack where she kept her free weights. She lifted one ten-pound dumbbell. "Eight of these. Maybe nine. Not more. And I think," she raised her other hand to shoulder height and held it, palm downward, "this high."

"You said 'he'," Oliver pointed out. "If the voice was light, couldn't it have been a girl?"

"Maybe," Cassandra said. "But I don't think so."

"Mind clueing me in as to why?"

Cass lifted an eyebrow. "He came in, made a mess, and acted like I should be... pleased to clean up." She shrugged. "I... haven't met any women who would think that way."

Dinah burst out laughing. Ollie winced.

"Fish?" Dick wasn't sure that he was hearing correctly. "He wants you to keep fish?"

Bruce sighed. "If this conversation is meant to encourage me to maintain open lines of communication, it's failing miserably," he stated dryly.

"Sorry," Dick said, instantly contrite. "Still..." He broke off, hearing Bruce's irritation, loud and clear, through the telephone. "Okay, so... fish. Well, at least none of our... friends-at-large has any affinity for using them as an MO. Not like birds, or rats, or plants... or mustard."

"Dick," Bruce's voice was pained, "I'd like to believe that even in my current state, I could handle Condiment King!"

"I don't doubt it," Dick said hastily. "Did Alex make any suggestion on what kind you should get?"

"Beyond starting with a lower-maintenance variety, no. Jim vetoed piranha, however."

"Ah. Well, maybe he'll come around. One of my friends in college kept a couple in his room. One or two can't really do that much damage-it's when you've got a whole school of," he listened for a moment. "Okay... um... yeah, putting fifty of them in the swimming pool might be going a little overboard. Well, for starters, are you sure you can get every trace of chlorine out of the pool tiles? Not to mention that fish sometimes jump... and, well, that would cause splashing. Which would make the area around the pool a bit slippery and, you know what? Start with the aquarium. Maybe give Orin a call-he might have some ideas. Okay, it was just a suggestion." He sighed. "Fine, consider it dropped. What else is doing?"

Bruce ignored the question. "Are you working tonight?"

"Yep. Got a practice spar with Cass in about an hour and then, I'm suiting up."

"Ah." Bruce thought for a moment. "Which... suit?" He heard Dick exhale on the other end of the line. "It doesn't disturb me that you've taken to wearing the cowl," he said softly. "You might find it gives you a certain advantage with the criminal element."

"I know," Dick admitted. "But it gives me a certain disadvantage dealing with the GCPD."

For a moment, Bruce frowned in confusion. Then, "Which one of us has the greater disadvantage if you wear the suit?"

Silence.

"I see," Bruce said after a moment. "Alright. Nightwing patrols tonight. Tomorrow, however, I want you to wear the other suit. Call me before you head downstairs to change, and leave the rest to me."

"Okay," Dick said dubiously. "But you know that if they do send a car up to the manor and you're not there, it's only going to make them more-"

"Dick!" Bruce said sharply. "I'm out of practice, not stupid. Trust me." He sighed. "I know what I'm doing."

This time, the pause seemed to go on longer than it actually did. "I do trust you," Dick said finally. "I always have. Just..." he caught himself. "Nothing. I'll call you tomorrow."

When Dick phoned the following night, Bruce was ready. "It'll be dark in an hour. In seventy-five minutes, I want you in the vicinity of GCPD headquarters. Do not approach unless the signal goes up, but make sure you're spotted. I'll handle the rest." He hung up before Dick could respond.

Nearly forty minutes later, he was walking through the front entrance of the central branch of the Gotham City Police Department. The building hadn't changed much, Bruce thought, as he walked through the lobby and approached the front desk.

"Would you please tell Renee Montoya that Bruce Wayne is here to see her?" He asked, making it sound as thought he was keeping an appointment.

The ruse worked. The receptionist made the call, and, a moment later, waved him to a seat. "She'll be with you in a minute."

It was closer to ten minutes before Captain Montoya came downstairs. "Ba-Mr. Wayne!" She greeted him warmly. "This is a surprise. I'm glad you stopped by." She extended her hand. As Bruce moved to shake it, she gave a self-conscious laugh and clapped him on the back with her other hand. "We can talk in my office," she said. "Follow me."