A/N: This idea came to me the other day and I decided to try it out. I am thinking about continuing this, and probably will. Let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of DC Comics. This is for entertainment purposes only.

"Remind me again," Robin muttered from his crouched position, "why Drake is conducting this mission?"

The cool wind rustled his hair, blowing his cape behind his small but strong form. They had been perched on the ledge for almost forty five minutes, and though he had been taught patience, waiting this long for action was making him restless. All Robin could think of to give him something to do was share his aggravation, whether anyone listened to him or not. Beside the young boy, Nightwing shook his head slightly, taking the high tech binoculars from his eyes. "You're not even supposed to be in the field right now. When Batman finds out I'm going to have to take the blame."

An unsaid comment lingered in the air; if he doesn't already know. Which, considering that the mysterious Bat was the best detective in the entire world, was a very high possibility. Of course that wasn't stopping Robin—even more so the boy under the mask, Damian. "You have to do no such thing, Grayson. I deserve to be on this mission."

It was true that Damian had disobeyed orders. He was told, strictly, that he was not to go and scout out Black Mask and his newest shipment coming into Gotham. Despite the warning, and the threat of danger looming over the city, he had gone to investigate on Bruce's behalf. It just so happened that his father was occupied with the League and he'd taken the opportunity. Yes, the plan had turned into a catastrophic mess, but Damian had been handling it when Batman dropped in to lend a hand.

After a lengthy lecture that involved a lot of "what were you thinking" and "you could have been killed" sort of talk, Batman told him that he was not allowed to patrol as Robin for a period of time, he was essentially grounded. The term was foreign to Damian; he considered himself benched. The worst part was that his father hadn't decided how long he was going to be stuck in the manor. Damian of course wasn't happy with this; even if he hadn't listened, he'd found out crucial information that could lead to a bust in the operation. So when Bruce was called to the Watchtower and put Nightwing in charge, Damian had chosen to ignore his punishment and follow Dick and Tim to stop the criminal.

Besides, they couldn't stop him if he went off without warning.

And that was how he ended up balancing on the ledge, eyes trained on the warehouse below. The trucks had arrived before they did, but had been left running. With no drivers in sight, and no people at all that they could see, Nightwing had ordered them to remain in their spots until some activity happened. The blue and black costumed man said, "You disobeyed orders, so you should be in the cave."

"I was the one that notified everyone of the suspicious activity," Red Robin spoke up from the other side of Nightwing, though saying it simply as a fact and without arrogance. He gave Damian a sidelong glance. "Since then, and thanks to your tip, I developed the plan. So that's why I'm leading."

"If the plan is such a good one," Robin inquired with mock interest, "Then why haven't we seen anyone? Were your calculations even remotely correct?"

Red Robin's expression behind his mask was hard to decipher, but it was obviously displeased. "Black Mask's men are on a strict schedule. They should have been out here five minutes ago, completed loading seven minutes later, and be out on the roads one minute after that."

While he knew that Tim was right, because he had seen no flaw in the schedule when Red Robin had first figured it out, he still scoffed. "Tt. If so, they have failed miserably, or your planning is completely off."

"That's enough," Nightwing cut in, his voice less of authority and taking more of a tone as the eldest sibling disciplining them. "Something isn't right. These shipments are always done with a close eye on the clock."

Robin stood up, not even swaying; he had impeccable balance. "Shall we go investigate then?"

Nightwing went to reply, when the warehouse doors burst open. Black Mask's minions came running from the entryway, their faces twisted into angry and surprise. They stumbled out, ran for the trucks, fighting over one another to get in. Robin knit his eyebrows together. "I knew that his minions were mindless, but not this far gone."

"Let's go," Red Robin said, getting to his feet with Nightwing. The three birds each shot their grappling and descended together through the air. The rushing wind made Damian grin; he was finally getting some action that he had been waiting for. He counted the seconds as they reached the ground, Damian landing on the hood of the truck in front of the frantic men. Nightwing and Red Robin each stood at opposite ends, in sight of every member.

Black Mask's minions froze, their eyes widening. One spluttered out, "We didn't do nothi—"

Damian's fist connected with his face, and then he grabbed the man by his collar. "Stealing expensive metals in order to auction them off for twice the price? I'd say that's more than nothing, fool."

The men moved backwards, holding their hands up. It was absolutely strange, all three heroes had expected some sort of retaliation. Suspiciously, Nightwing and Red Robin moved forwards. They quickly opened the backs of the trucks; every single one was empty. Red Robin said, "Must not have had time to load them."

"No!" One of the minions shouted, "It-it just came out of nowhere! Striking us down one by one!"

"Your blabbering nonsense is painful to hear," Damian said, shoving the man he had in his grip and jumping down from the hood of the truck.

There was a crash from inside the warehouse, and more yelling. Gunshots rang out, and more screaming and cursing accompanied them. No other men, however, retreated out the open doors. Nightwing jerked his head towards the warehouse, "Leave them; we have to get inside."

Robin growled causing the men to inch back from him, "Lucky bastards."

The three ran for the doors, standing on either side. Nightwing peeked into the entryway, a frown forming on his face. He gave a nod to the other two, making a signal with his hands, and they ran in, jumping to the sides and crouching behind crates that were packed with the stolen metals, which were supposed to have been transported. Much to his annoyance, Red Robin was next to Damian, but he bit back annoyance and glanced up from behind their cover.

At first he saw nothing at all. The expansive room was lit only by three dim lights, the rest having been shot out by bullets, their shattered remains glittering on the floor. Then he made out the shapes of minions, either lying on the floor or standing in a cluster in the center of the room. They were armed with guns, their eyes flickering around dangerously; frenzied. One spoke up, "Damn, where did—?"

As if from out of nowhere, a small form leapt, appearing above then men like a shadow falling on them. The figure was dressed in all black, showing no skin, a hood up over its face. Its body twisted, feet slamming into the face of the closest man, and then pushing off of him like he was a wall, landing on the ground. The man fell back into a few others, the rest firing their guns at the figure. Damian couldn't help but raise up more to watch the scene as the figure darted, avoiding the bullets and coming straight at the men that were easily four times its size.

Even Nightwing and Red Robin rose as the small shadow fought, jumping and punching one man in the gut, leaping again and landing a hit to his face. It hit the ground, and Damian watched thoughtfully. The figure was so swift, and he could have sworn he recognized the moves from somewhere; if not the moves the entire style of fighting. Dismissing the feeling he drew his sword and ran forwards, not waiting for Nightwing to give an order. The older man said nothing, and Robin could see from his peripheral vision both the other heroes joining him.

He didn't intend to be fighting side by side with the figure, but suddenly they were working together with incredible synchrony. Damian knit his eyebrows; this small figure felt like a threat to him, if it knew just how he fought. He swung his sword, the figure used his back as a springboard and struck the man's jaw with its foot. Robin was sure he heard the cracking of bone. The figure moved on, he followed so that they were fighting back to back.

The minions were easy to take down, he found no trouble with them. At one point he moved backwards to avoid a hit, his foot sliding in something wet. Regaining his balance, he disarmed the man that came at him and struck him down with a slice to his leg, and then looked to the floor. A pool of blood was coming from a man that lay motionless on the ground. Damian glanced around, saw that most of the men that were lying down looked the same way. Knowing he had not killed anyone, and that both Nightwing and Red Robin wouldn't dare to do so, it left only the figure as the culprit.

Damian quickly darted around the men in order to find it, and saw the flash of a blade. The dense shadow stood over its victim, arm raised with a knife that was already slick with blood. Rushing forwards, Robin grabbed its wrist to keep it from striking the blow. The figure turned towards him, but he couldn't see its face under the hood. It felt as though they locked eyes, and then Damian let it go, and the figure moved away from the bleeding man.

"Robin." Nightwing's voice cut through the sudden quietness. Damian looked over and watched Dick disarm the last man and knock him out. Red Robin was coming over from the other side of the room. They both looked unharmed, and the small, sympathetic and hidden part of Damian felt relieved that no one was seriously hurt.

"The rest of them left," Red Robin reported, "Without their cargo."

"Mission accomplished," Robin replied, sheathing his sword.

Nightwing narrowed his masked eyes, "It didn't exactly go as expected."

Robin followed his gaze, as did Red Robin, to the small figure. It was only a couple inches shorter than himself, Damian realized. Not saying anything, the figure stood there, as if taking the three of them in for the first time. Then it reached up to the hood and pulled it back, letting itself be revealed. Damian refrained from sucking in a surprised breath, keeping his voice only partly astonished and the rest casual, "Ara?"

The girl didn't smile, her voice soft but assertive at the same time, if that was possible. "Hello, Damian."

Nightwing started, tensing, but Damian didn't reach for his sword. There was no uneasiness in the way that he stood. He said simply, "You've grown since I've seen you last."

"And you have become an even better warrior," she noted. Her eyes were a dark blue, almost navy, and her light brown hair fell just past her shoulders in slight waves.

"Hate to interrupt your reunion," Red Robin said, "but can we have an introduction?"

"I didn't expect you to know me, or care, Tim Drake." The young girl said and Damian smirked at the hero's shocked reaction. He would have laughed, though it didn't seem like an appropriate situation to do so.

Nightwing took a small step forward, though it was not threatening. "You know our names."

"Of course, Dick Grayson. There is no reason that I wouldn't." The ten year old, she looked about Damian's age, didn't bat an eye. She looked so controlled and with subtle confidence that it was hard to not believe her.

Damian smirked again and then gestured to her, "This is Arabelle Reign."

"Old friend, or only friend of yours?" Tim asked, almost distastefully.

Instead of sending a retort, Damian scoffed, "No you fool…"

"She's my fiancée."