Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, but the more I write them, the more I wish I did.

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Partners

Chapter 10

"Tell him," Dick said.

And she did. When she did, Dick was speechless. Barbara was smiling at him. Even Batman smiled. At least Dick thought that brief upward curl of his lips was a smile. Whatever it was, Dick found it rather disturbing.

"Let's go," Batman graveled, and he and Batgirl fired their lines, securing them and leaping off the roof.

Dick turned to Selina, trying to get the words out through his surprise. "You...you fenced it?"

And there was the teasing grin from her. "It was a rather rushed negotiation. I insisted Oswald pay me that minute. He couldn't have done it if he hadn't had some bearer's bonds stashed in case he needed to make a quick getaway. He always did believe in being prepared." She reached into her pouch and pulled out a sheaf of papers, dividing the stack into two with a claw and handing one half to Dick.

She was always rather indifferent about money, once it was theirs, but to Dick's eye it looked a lot like the stack that she handed him was larger than the one she kept. He'd take that up later, instead saying, "So the Bats are going to bust Penguin with the statue?"

She nodded. "That's why it's a bit less than my guess. Besides the time constraints, it wouldn't feel right to charge Ozzy full price for something he wasn't going to keep." There was the grin again. "I think I'm going to have to go back to David for future jobs," she said, referring to the Miami-based fence she'd used before Penguin.

"Nix that," he said, "Batman knows about him."

She gave Dick a frankly appraising look. "I'm gonna miss you, kid."

"Why, where are you going?" he answered flippantly, grinning.

Selina smirked. "Ok, that part I won't miss so much, smartass. I think we can agree I've been pretty good when it comes to your privacy, but when you leave calculations and the number four million circled with the word 'target' written in large capital letters on a piece of paper you leave on the kitchen table, I'm going to get the idea." Dick chuckled and offered a sheepish shrug, "What does four million buy you, anyway?" she asked.

"My life back," he answered. "As much of it as can be bought, anyway."

Selina's head titled, green eyes staring at him with undisguised curiosity.

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Two months later...

Franco Bertinelli wasn't normally given to the sort of entertainments preferred by the teeming masses, but he had to admit it had been quite a show. Even he'd found himself grinning, and the kids had been absolutely mesmerized throughout the performance. Of course the 'kids' were twenty-one and sixteen respectively.

It was Helena's seventeenth birthday tomorrow, and while she'd have a more typical teenage party with her friends tomorrow, for tonight, he insisted they have time together as a family. "Just because you're getting older," he had said, "doesn't mean it isn't good to be a kid sometimes."

"Are you talking about us or yourself, Pops?" Joey had cracked back. Wise-ass kid.

At the moment, Joey and Helena were having a vigorous argument over which part of the act was the best. Joey liked the animal act, with the elephants and the lion-tamer, while Helena favored the trapeze artists. "You were paying more attention to how that one guy looked in those red and green tights than any quadruple somersault."

Helena's face colored. She looked to be a moment away from unleashing one of her trademark torrents of mixed English and Italian invective on her brother when Franco intervened, "You can resume this in a moment, Helena. Joey and I need to see Mr. Haly before we head home. Wait in the car with Bobby." Franco nodded to Bobby, his family's personal bodyguard, and he and Joey made their way through the throngs to Garrison "Pop" Haly's trailer.

When he arrived, Franco noticed an immediate difference in Haly. In the years since one of his young associates had gotten somewhat...aggressive...in his business pursuits, Bertinelli's appearance always brought an anger, tightly controlled, but there, enough that Franco could see it just beneath the surface. The old ringmaster treated him with respect though, and that was enough. Better to be feared, as the saying went.

This time was different. Haly was calm, evincing little reaction to the arrival of Bertinelli and his son. Franco took a moment to mull this, then posited that the old man must have finally accepted the reality of the situation. "Good evening, Mr. Haly," Bertinelli said. Haly replied with an impassive silence. Bertinelli frowned, nonplussed, and continued. "Your new owners seem to have been quite serious when they consented to a silent partnership. The holding company is a dummy corporation with nothing but a Caribbean post office box. We were able to extract the fact that all mail is forward to a private box in a bank in Geneva-"

Haly interrupted, "But unlike the Cayman clerk, the Swiss wouldn't be bribed, and you're still in the dark."

This was definitely odd, but Bertinelli wasn't going to be put off by some two-bit carny in a silly costume. "I see you're keeping yourself well-informed. Our arrangement remains the same. Make whatever excuses you need, cook the books however you like, but the payments continue."

"Not happening," a voice graveled from behind the two of them. They whirled to see a muscular young man in a black costume and a mask. Joey reacted first, reaching inside his jacket. Before his son could draw the gun, the costumed man grabbed a bar on the low-hanging roof of the trailer and swung the soles of both of his boots into Joey's face. Joey hit the wall with a crack and slumped down to the floor, unconscious.

"You son of a bitch!" Franco shouted as he drew his own gun, but before he could bring it to bear, the man was on him. His arm was wrenched painfully behind his back, the gun thumping lightly against the trailer's carpeted floor. The costumed man pushed the back of his shin with one food, sending Franco Bertinelli to his knees, chest pressed against the top of Haly's small desk.

Haly observed this with an impassive expression. When he spoke, it was in a bland tone of voice, markedly in contrast with the usual flourish he gave his basso profundo voice, "As you can see, Mr. Bertinelli, circumstances have changed. This gentleman represents the new owners.

In a gravelly rasp, Dick said in Bertinelli's ear, "The new owners have decided your 'protection' is no longer required. We've put together a presentation to explain to you that we intend to protect our investment. Give him the slide show, Haly." Haly opened his top drawer and removed a manila envelope. As he opened it, Dick said, "In researching our new acquisition, we've discovered that circus folk...carnies, if you prefer...tend to consider each other family. I'm sure that you appreciate family, Mr. Bertinelli."

Haly removed a series of pictures from the envelope. The first picture was of Helena, smiling. Franco knew the picture well. It was taken at her sixteenth birthday. He had one just like it in his wallet. "Your daughter is quite the beauty," in an unemotional rasp. Bertinelli's eyes widened. Haly moved through the pictures slowly, one at a time, while Dick narrated. "This is her in her bedroom, sleeping. This is her swimming in your pool. This is her at school. This is her and her best friend. Her in your car. This is the car your giving her tomorrow for her birthday. You know, ethnic pride is fine and all, but that's really too flashy a car to be giving to a seventeen year-old girl. You pay all those cops and judges to handle real problems, not to get your kid off from traffic tickets. A Jaguar would have been more tasteful and less of a hassle. Last picture please."

The very last picture appeared, it was of Helena standing in front of the front door of Franco's Mediterranean villa. An image of crosshairs was overlaid on her head. "This is the house in Sicily you hid her and her brothers in when you were having that misunderstanding with your now-late colleagues." Dick yanked Franco's hair back, forcing the horrified mobster to stare into the angry blue eyes that glared out of his mask. "If something happens to this circus and the people in it, you will be hurting our business interests. But to these people, you'll be hurting their family. Make no mistake, we will hurt your business if that happens, but at my firm, we value family. As do you. Capisce?"

He was on the verge of tears, "Yes! Yes!" he shouted.

"Good," Dick rasped, "Now take your son and get out of here." Joey was stirring on the floor. Franco helped him to his feet, took one long look at Dick who stood there, fists clenched, glaring, and then stumbled out of the trailer into the darkened circus grounds. Dick took several deep breaths and then pulled off his mask, setting it on Haly's desk. He brushed the spirit gum off of his face as best as he could.

Haly, who hadn't moved throughout this entire exchange, was staring at Dick, his fingers steepled. "I'd said you'd changed, Dick, but..." Haly wondered how to ask this. He wondered if it was safe to ask. "Would you really...?"

Dick shook his head. "I'd teach him the meaning of the phrase 'living hell'. I'd do everything to make him wish he were dead, and if he put a gun to his own head, the only reason I'd think twice is if I wasn't sure if death would be the greater punishment. But I wouldn't touch her, Pop. I couldn't."

Pop Haly nodded at the fledgeling recently returned. 'Easier than thinking of him as my boss, I suppose.' "Glad you haven't changed that much, boy." He smiled crookedly, "Welcome home."

Dick grinned. "Thanks Pop. I'm gonna go see a couple friends who saw the show. I'll be back in time for you to buy me a corn dog and a funnel cake before we close."

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Dick had his masked tucked in his pouch as he walked through the still-brightly-lit fairgrounds. It still struck him as odd not to have to hide when in this costume. But who'd look twice at a man in a costume walking around a circus? Heck, by Haly's Big Top standards, the Tiger get-up was positively tame. He walked up to his trailer and went inside.

Given the circumstances of his departure, no one thought it too odd when Pop bought a trailer for Dick and said the young acrobat wouldn't have to share it. Not that Dick felt elevated above the rest of the family, but after having his own space for so long, it would have been a shock to give that up, and Dick wasn't sure he ever wanted to. At least not to whatever strongman, horse-handler or clown the luck of the draw would link him up with.

It was the only special treatment he'd asked Pop for, other than his promise not to tell anyone just who the circus' new owner was. "So," he said, his voice echoing from the speaker the radio receiver was hooked up to. He turned off the microphone pickup on his suit's collar and said, "What did you think of the show?"

Barbara grinned, "The big top or the after-dinner theater?" She stood up and stepped forward, hugging him. Between his age and the confusion created by their costumed identities, they'd decided it was best to slow down a bit. Let Dick and Barbara get to know each other a bit more. Well, she'd decided, anyway. His decision was to be patient, and to go along with her decision until she felt more ready.

He hugged her back and said, "The circus." He blinked as he noticed that the other woman was glaring at him, arms crossed. Puzzled, he asked, "What's..." then stopped as the answer hit him. "Lion-tamer?"

"Yes. Dick. Lion-tamer." Selina glared. Releasing Dick, Barbara giggled, and Selina included her in the glare.

"You know," Barbara said, pure mischief in her eyes, "Bruce could probably learn a few of those techniques."

"If I ever," Selina declared, turning to make sure everyone in the trailer understood her, "see Batman with a whip and a chair, he'd better also have a rocket strapped to his back, because that's the only way he's getting out unshredded." That established, she said, "I've seen the trapeze act before, although not in those red and green tights. This from the kid who teased me about the purple leather?"

Barbara leaped to his defense, "I thought they looked good on him." Selina couldn't help smiling at the pair.

"You stole my voice," Bruce said, glowering at Dick.

"Arrest me," Dick taunted.

Both women attempted to hide laughter, not very well. "He stole my voice," Bruce repeated, voice oddly plaintive.

"Think of it as an homage." Selina suggested.

"Hey, I was taking it on faith that the voice even works," Dick noted. "I'd only seen you try it on me and Selina, before. It just annoyed me, and she thinks it's sexy."

"Of course it works..." Bruce trailed off and turned to look at Selina, "You do?" Everyone in the trailer noticed the gravel he'd put into that question.

Dick shook his head in disbelief. In an aside to Barbara, he stage-whispered, "Did he think it was the ears?"

"You mean it wasn't the ears for you?" She grinned at him.

"Hey, I met Barbara before I met Batgirl, remember?" Blue eyes stared into green.

As the silence drew out, Bruce and Selina glanced at each other. 'Should we go?' he mouthed silently to her.

Barbara gave him another quick hug and said, "C'mon Bruce, let's leave the Cats alone."

Dick nodded, saying, "We need to plan our next job," grinning at Bruce.

Bruce fixed him with a glare.

"All right boys, break it up," Selina said, shaking her head.

Barbara giggled, and she and Bruce filed out of the trailer. Dick asked, "You're sure one of them didn't bug the place?"

Selina chuckled, "I'm not, but there's not much for them to overhear if they did."

"You've really given it up?"

Selina tilted her head, "I wouldn't say that..."

"What would you say?"

"That Catwoman's on a well-earned vacation. When she gets back, we'll figure out what's next." Dick nodded and sat down in one of the two folding chairs. "So how is it," she asked, "everything you hoped for?"

Dick looked thoughtful, "I'm not sure what I'd hoped for."

Selina watched him for a moment, and suggested, "It is home. And it isn't."

After pondering that for a moment, he nodded in agreement. "I'm glad I came back. If for no other reason then to get that scum's hooks out of Pop's business. It's great being up on the traps, performing, but..." He stood, beginning to pace in the little space he had to do so. "Those red and green tights, that's what the family wore. Before. Now they don't fit."

"Barbara may have been looking more closely than I was, but I think if those tights didn't fit, we'd have noticed."

Dick grimaced, "You know what I mean. For years all I wanted was to put them on and be home again. Well, I did, and I am. Only I'm not." He slumped back into the chair, again, frustrated, "What is it with me? I want to be back in the circus, but it's not right. I want to be back in your apartment, you scouting out our next heist while I cook up another Bat-trap, but that doesn't feel right either."

"You know, now that you mention it, maybe the tights were a size too small."

"Selina!"

"For Christ's sake, Dick, you're seventeen! Do you really expect to know what you want to do with your entire life at age seventeen? Do you know anybody that knew that?"

That brought a snort. "Bruce?" he suggested.

"You want Bruce's life?"

Dick let out a single bark of laughter at that. "Point taken."

She smiled softly at him, "The point, kiddo, is that you've got options. Explore 'em. Maybe you're just adjusting, and a year from now you'll still be swinging in the big top." Selina had her doubts about that, but it'd be better for Dick to find out on his own if and when he had to go, "If not, leave. Steal. Don't steal. Hold down a job. Get an equivalency and bribe your way into a top university. Believe me, you can. Go work with Bruce and Barbara and take down the Bertinellis of the world. Nothing is permanent unless we choose to make it so. Don't be afraid if the goal you worked for years to achieve isn't as important as you thought it was. Pick a new one. Whatever you do, don't sit here moping about it. Have you ever seen a cat mope?"

"Yes."

Selina glared at him. "You have not."

"Sure I have. Saba, the lion here. Everytime her trainer takes a couple days vacation, she gets listless and mopey."

"You just save these little observations for when you know I don't have my claws on."

Dick grinned at her. "Thank you for coming. Even if you did have to bring Captain BroodyBat with you." Suddenly, Dick frowned. "You know what I just realized?" Selina's eyebrow arched. "He never asked."

"Never asked what?"

"If I had told anyone, or would tell anyone."

"This surprises you?"

"Well, yeah. It's a pretty big thing for him, don't you think?"

"It's a huge thing for him. He makes Bruce Wayne look like an idiot in public just to remove any possibility of a connection between them."

"Then why didn't he take steps?"

"Steps?"

"Threatening me, bribing me. He didn't even ask!"

"Have you told anyone?"

"No."

"Are you going to?"

"No."

"That's why, then. Good luck, Dick," she said, standing, patting him fondly on the shoulder and then making her way out of his trailer, leaving a very puzzled Dick Grayson behind.

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Dick's got some thinking to do

Bruce and Selina have only started

and is Barbara thinking of giving up her night job?

The Partners will return, but for now, this is

The End