“Copy that,” I say into the mike. “Now, remember there’s a blind alley on the east side of the factory.”

“Thanks, *Mom*.” Tim’s voice is full of the teasing tone I’ve so often heard. The summer months have found him back in Gotham. He’s back on a nightly patrol. Summer patrols are burnt into my memory. During those days, it’s flying free. Everything fades away and you don’t have to worry about school projects or homework. No worries or cares, just you and the sky.

That was ages ago. Another life.

On the other end of the communications link, I hear the faint sound of rustling. It’s not Bruce. He’s over in the south end, not to mention he has a lighter step. I make sure Tim still has the channel open.

“And tell your chaperone that you have a curfew,” I add.

“Chaperone?” He’s probably looking around now and any second now he’s going to see... “Hi Cass,” he greets before turning his attention back to me. “Curfew, my ass.”

“Tut. Tut. Watch your language boy wonder.”

“That’s no fun. Okay, we’re off.”

“Remember that alley.”

“I got it already. You are a mother hen.”

“Hey, you’ll thank me in the morning.”

“Most likely. You always were better than me. Robin and Batgirl out.”

The connection ends with a soft click, and I’m greeted with empty air. Robin and Batgirl. Tim and Cassie carrying on namesakes. Making them their own. Making us forgotten. For a moment, I sit still in the darkness.

“You look worried.”

Babs’s voice breaks into my thoughts and memories. She wheels into the room, turning off a few monitors as she goes.

“Nah,” I assure her. “They can take care of themselves. It’ll be quiet.”

“So no need for the intrepid Oracle?”

“Or her handsome sidekick? No.”

“Sidekick?”

“You prefer rent boy?” I tease back hollowly. This is us at our best. Conducting gentle banter, some light teasing with affection, an orchestrated verbal dance that’s become second nature. Yet, tonight, my heart’s not in it.

“Well...I suppose that’s more accurate, at least in one respect.”

“Yes but wrong in the other connotation, I don’t help pay the rent.”

“I know.”

“That’s because you won’t let me.”

“Got that right.”

She wraps her arms around my neck from behind. Her chin touches my shoulder and I breathe in the soft scent of vanilla that lingers on her skin. Usually, this would be more to make me relax. Not tonight, not with Tim’s last words are still hanging in the air, living on in the silence.

“Dick?”

"Man. So many things have changed,” I’m speaking but not to her. Nonetheless, the retrospective tone carries to her ears just the same. “It's the same city but..."

"Time has a funny way of happening. That's the way the storybook goes."

“We’re pretty much done for the night.” I put the systems on standby as if to demonstrate my point. Once all the bells and whistles are in place, we head out of the room.

"So we have some quality down time? Sounds great.”

I frown, although I’m not sure why.

“There’s a rule against relaxing?" she asks. The daring tone is present, she’s teasing in an effort to lighten the mood. "I would have gotten a memo about a new rule."

"You mean you didn’t? I sent it to ‘sexyredhead@clocktower.net’.”

“Ah, I see,” she says as she plays along. “I have filters on that account so it probably bounced back to ‘gorgeoushunk’ at the same domain.” She pauses, drawing away from me. She joins me in the contemplative silence. Don’t ask me how, but I know she’s giving me that concerned stare right now. The stare means I’m not going to be able to avoid what she says next. “Talk to me; tell me what you’re thinking.”

I shake my head. We’ve been over this. I’ve let it go, just like she has.

I miss it. Once upon a time, we were flying. Now, our wings are clipped. But, I can still feel the wind through my hair, and burning my cheeks. The feel of a jumpline going taut just as you reach its limits. The cold granite, unyielding, as I land upon it. The sound of a ‘rang whipping through the night. Busy traffic sounds and deafening gunshots still ring in my ears.

And above all, God forgive me, I can still see the sky.

Red streaked with yellow in the morning. Gray above Gotham. Dark with smokey wisps floating about the ‘haven. Always a deep blue near the mansion as it reflects of the water below. But mostly it’s black, with tiny white sparkles, wavering because of the atmosphere, twinkling silently, beautifully. Uncomplicated and stark in it’s elegance.

Sometimes when I sit on the balcony, the skyline forms before me. The buildings fall into place, block by block, street by street. The same skyline I used to fly in, the same skyline Tim’s flying through now. I know Babs misses it. I think it one of those things of which you can never completely let go.

Life just seems too different. Too easy. Too normal. “I’m just missing the complicated life. It’s so simple now, I feel like I’m slacking.”

"It might be simpler." Then, Babs is tugging gently at my neck, bringing my head down to her meet her. Without warning, she’s kissing me. It’s fire. It’s passion but at the same time tender. I eventually break away. She’s whispering little words that she barely ever speaks. The kiss is abrupt, unwarranted, but not a bit unwelcome. The question is poised on my lips. The confusion clear on my face and she’s answering my thoughts. She always knew exactly what I was thinking. "But for that, Mister Grayson, I'd give up complicated any day."

"I suppose nostalgia's overrated," I agree, memories fading back to where they belong.

“Indeed.”

I pull her close to me. “So this is ‘quality down time’? What did you have in mind?”

“You mean, what didn’t I?”

“Then it’s lucky we have the night off.”

They memories are almost all faded now, just like the sunset in the evening sky. The deep blues fade until it’s almost white. Then the sun makes itself known. The crimson tinge mixes with the faint azure creating a stunning indigo. You hold your breath and watch nature in it’s finest. Later, when it’s dark, when those tiny lights are in the sky, that’s the beginning of the end. That’s when you have to let go.

fin

~story index~