A/N: I'm new to the BB category, so I'm sorry if this storyline has been done before, or if there is anything that might look similar to something already posted. It is purely coincidence, I assure you.
Enjoy the show…

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BATMAN
B e y o n d

"Redbird"

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Terry McGinnis hung still, upside-down from a rafter in a broad, dark warehouse... and he waited.

Boy, he hated stakeouts. They were the worst part of being a crime-fighter. So much boredom, while waiting for the real excitement to begin.

He checked his watch. 9:30. He hadn't expected it to go this late. He had a date with Dana tonight. Well, 'had' now being the key word. She was going to kill him for missing another one. He checked his watch again. 9:31. Was it just him, or was time going slower than it did in history class?

Then the door to the warehouse started to lift, two men stepped inside.

"Ah, now the fun stuff begins," he said to himself. He put his two fingertips of his right hand out, so he could hear what they were saying.

"So you think we're gonna get them to give us a raise?" one said.

"They have to. With this, they'll have more money than they'll know what to do with. I think I'll make about five to start with, and charge about two million for each, what do you think?"

"That's--" One stopped, then began to count on his fingers. Terry sighed as the man took his time figuring out the simple math. These kind of criminals gave him a bad name.

"It's ten million, Harold."

Harold laughed excitedly, while the first guy put down the small box he was carrying.

"I'll keep one for myself, of course… in case things don't work out."

"Boss," Terry said into his communicator. "You getting this?"

Bruce answered: "Yes."

"So, do I slam them or what?"

"You do and you break the chain. We need them to say what it is exactly--"

"--Wait." Terry said, hearing the rest of the conversation.

"—So what happens if they find out? The doctors, I mean."

"They won't. Because if they do, they need to become costumers too."

Harold laughed loudly, while the first guy suddenly slapped his hand over the Harold's mouth.

"Did you hear that?" he said, looking around. "Sounded like…"

"A bat?" Terry said, leaping from the shadows. He just loved doing that. He kicked the first guy hard, immediately knocking him out, ducked when the second shot at him. He dodged the bullets-- good thing the guy couldn't shoot-- and punched him square in the jaw.

Batman sighed. That was almost too easy.

"You 'slam' them?"he heard Bruce say cynically.

"Couldn't be helped. They found me."

Terry went over to the box that they were carrying.

"They left behind a box."

"What's inside?"

Terry looked cautiously.

"Just a bunch of watches." Great, Bruce was going to kill him for slamming these guys for a few knockoff Rolexes. But he didn't hear Bruce talk for a moment.

"How many?" Bruce said instead.

"Six, including the one the dude has in his hand."

"Are you sure they're just watches?"

Terry picked one up and looked it over. He spotted something different. On the face. It didn't have a digital screen, it had one of those old faces, the ones with hands. The face had a sort of handle on the top of them, so you could move the hands with ease.

"Funny," Terry muttered.

"What?"

"They have handles on the face, not a knob on the side like the other antique watches."

"Don't touch it. That could be a detonator, or worse."

Terry pocketed the watch, and carried the others in their gray box.

"I'm not that stupid, Boss."

"You haven't proved that yet."

Terry shook his head and went back on the roof where he left his plane. Whatever he did for Bruce, it was never enough. It was a hard kind of business, just like the Commissioner Barbara Gordon had warned him. There was little to no gratification here. He learned to deal with it.

Suddenly a shadow behind a crate moved, taking off outside into the night.

"Hey!" he called after it. Had he missed one thug? He didn't even see this guy come in. He used the jets in his heels to launch himself after the shadow, but it was already running to the edge of the building.

"Oh, my God," Terry breathed.

"What?" Bruce asked in his ear with concern. "What is it?"

"Turn on your vid-link. You have to see this for yourself."

Bruce hit a button on his control panel and watched as the blizzard static formed into a picture on the screen. He watched the figure dive clear off the side of the building. Bruce gasped at what he saw.

"No…" he said breathlessly.

"I think it is…" Terry countered, watching the figure launch a grappling hook and swing off into the distance.

"I think someone's decided to resurrect your little 'Robin'…"

-

Terry parked the plane in its proper spot, and couldn't hold back a yawn as he exited. Bruce was going over some things on his computer, like he always did.

"What you tinkering with now?" Terry said, as he changed out of the Batsuit. He received no answer, and he forgot why he bothered.

He tenderly put the suit back in its place: in the glass case next to the other suits. He looked at the Batgirl suit, the Nightwing suit, and then the little Robin, and finally the old Batman suit. He always liked Nightwing's best, after his own, of course. That's where the winged-glider idea came from for his current suit, he supposed.

"Hey, Bruce?" he said, breaking the abundant silence.

He heard Bruce grunt in response.

"You never told me what happened to him. Nightwing, I mean."

He heard Bruce stop typing. Terry looked over. Bruce hadn't turned around, he just sat there, frozen.

"He died," Bruce said stoically, then started typing again.

Terry rolled his eyes. Man, that annoyed him. Why didn't Bruce tell him anything?

"I'm goin' home," Terry said, grabbing his backpack. "You know how my mom gets."

Bruce just kept typing. His dog, Ace, looked up with alert ears.

"Okay, then. See you," Terry tried again.

Still no response. Terry shrugged and sighed for the last time, climbed up the stairs, and let himself out. Maybe there was still a chance to give Dana a call when he got home…

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Please review.
Signed,
--RedRogue