Peter Caine sat at his desk, staring at the small mound of paperwork lying on it. He was adding the finishing touches to a report for booking on a perp that he'd busted earlier before he transmitted it to the desk sergeant downstairs. He wanted to get out of the precinct before he got assigned to another case because he had a hot date with a very gorgeous lady. As he pushed the button and sent the report, a familiar head stuck itself out of the door of the captain's office.

"Caine. Griffin. Skalaney. In my office. Now."

As the two of them got up from their desks and walked to the captain's office, Kermit joined them. All of them wondered what she wanted. Peter had recognized the tone of voice. It meant that they were either going to be read the riot act for something they hadn't done or they were about to be put on a case that she knew they would find distasteful.

Entering Simms' office, Kermit pulled the door closed since he was the last one to come in. She gestured for them to sit down in the chairs in front of her desk. Kermit, however, chose to stand near the door.

"How's your caseloads for this week?" she asked as Caine and Skalaney made themselves comfortable.

"I'm relatively clear for the next month," Caine answered, then paused, "except for the Bromwell arraignment. The way that case is going, it'll be about two weeks before they need me."

"Skalaney?"

"About the same. I was going to ask for some personal time to go visit a cousin of mine who's in town for a while."

"More like spend it with my father," Peter commented under his breath, hoping that Skalaney and Simms wouldn't hear him. Skalaney did and glared at him, saying nothing

"Kermit?" Karen Simms asked, then glanced up at Kermit. She wondered if she would ever get to see him without the shades that he constantly wore.

"Nothing on the docket for me," the ex-mercenary said as he glanced over his shades at her. "All I have to do is install a computer for Peter over at his place, but that can wait."Kermit glanced over and saw the surprise evident on Peter Caine's face. No one had mentioned to him anything about Kermit installing a computer in his apartment. It was obvious that he knew nothing about it.

"Later, Peter," was all he said to the young man who was his friend. The two of them shared a history and were linked through Paul Blaisdell. Kermit now knew that Peter had no idea that the computer was a gift from Paul Blaisdell for his foster son. Paul had made arrangements with Kermit to install it before he'd left the 101st. Peter wisely let the matter drop without comment.

"Several of us from the 101st will be attending a police and private detectives conference in Gotham City, New York," she continued after they had finished. " Commissioner Kincaid told me to select four officers to attend on behalf of the 101st. I chose the four of us."

"When do we leave?" Peter asked. There were several things he had to do before he left and one of them involved his father. He also had to call his lady friend and let her know why he couldn't keep their date for tonight.

"Our flight leaves at seven in the morning," Simms said. She glanced at the three detectives and saw the look on Peter's face. "What's with you, Detective Caine?"

"I hate flying," he answered. Kermit smiled as he saw the slight green tint to his friend's face. "I hate it almost as much as I did rice at the temple," he groused. He didn't care if anyone heard him. He hated heights and he hated to fly.

"Get used to the idea, Detective," she said sternly. Then she handed them their plane ticket and their baggage claim checks. "I expect you three to be there, or else."

She turned back to her desk and sat down, effectively dismissing them from her office. The detectives left, Peter closing the door behind him.

Skalaney walked back to her desk and sat down. Seeing Peter's discomfort, she decided to torment him by playing games with his head.

"So, you're afraid of heights and hate flying?" She smiled when Peter glared at her from his desk. "Want me to hold you hand on the flight?"

"No, I don't," he growled as he looked down at the ticket and claim check in his hand. Tossing it on his desk, he set about finishing the rest of his work. After a short while, he got up, picked up the ticket, stuck it in his jacket pocket, and headed for the door. As he opened it to go out, Chief Frank Strenlich walked in to take over the night shift. "I'm gone, Chief. My paperwork's all done and I have some things I need to take care of."

"Okay," Strenlich said. He had no idea as to what was going on, but knew that he would no doubt find out as soon as he talked with Captain Simms.

As the door closed behind Peter, he was followed by the taunting sound of Skalaney's laughter.

**** ****

Arriving at his father's apartment, Peter was trying to figure out what he wanted to do next. He wanted his father to come with him, but he also knew that he would have to pay for it out of his own mad money. He was unsure as to how his father would respond to such a gesture.

Opening the door, Peter saw movement that he could not identify and he also noticed that there were no lights on. He drew his nickel-plated nine-millimeter and slipped into the shadows of the room, realizing that he could barely see two feet in front of him. Peter was unaware that his father had taken on some students and was training them here in his home instead of establishing another kwoon. Caine felt the presence of his son's chi force in the room and called out to him. He had to prevent the needless bloodshed of his son or his students.

"Do not harm them, Peter! They are my students and they are unarmed!"

Peter hesitated, feeling a gentle hand close around his wrist. He put his gun back into the holster as his father let go of his wrist. Caine called to his students as he moved away from Peter. "You may light the candles and resume your katas. I must speak with my son."

Peter followed him into the next room. When Peter didn't say anything, Caine took the initiative.

"Something is bothering you, my son," he said neutrally. He had no idea where to begin with Peter. His emotions were like a land mine, quick to trigger and easy to hurt. Once you hurt him, he hurt deep and found it hard to trust people after such a hurt.

"I have to take a trip to New York for a police conference," he said. He knew Caine would want to know why he was reticent to go and continued before his father could ask. "I have to fly there, and I hate to fly."

"This no doubt stems from your fear of heights," Caine countered gently. He then looked at Peter more closely this time. "There is something else you wish to ask me."

"If I pick up the tab, will you come with us?"

"I already have plans to visit a friend in Gotham City," Caine replied. He decided to tell his son the truth for once. "He is in need of the knowledge and skills of a Shaolin priest. I must go." He looked at his son and considered his next words with great care. It was so much easier going up against Sing Wah assassins or Chi Ru masters and their apprentices than going against Peter's defensive barriers. "He has sent me a plane ticket and has made a reservation for a hotel room in my name." He saw Peter's eyes light up, hoping against hope that he would be going. "I will therefore accompany you on your flight."

Caine reached up and brushed his hand against Peter's cheek. He delighted in the contact with his only child and had no wish to break it. He felt Peter lean into his touch, sensing the release of his son's emotions.

"But how--"

"One makes many friends in many years of wandering the world," Caine said, anticipating Peter's question. It was as if he feared giving his son a straight answer about what he'd done in the fifteen years that they'd been apart. He was afraid that something from his past might come back and take his son from him again. He would not let that happen.

**** **** ****

A black gloved hand reached over to the control console and opened a communication frequency with his hidden base of operations. He had forgotten to leave a note for Alfred that he was to go to the airport and pick up a man named Caine.

He thought back to the man who was coming to visit his mansion. It had been at a Shaolin temple where Bruce had finally learned to control his reaction to pain. Caine had taught him to move like a shadow in the night, and he'd put those lessons to good use in a method that he hoped Caine would approve of.

While at the temple, Caine had taught him some Chinese as well, but not enough to get the people of Gotham City's Chinatown to open up to him. Because of this, he needed someone that they might respect enough to talk to about the murders occurring there. He'd heard from someone how the elders of the Chinese community respected the ancient ways and that they would have sought the advice of a Shaolin priest if there had been one in the area. If they wouldn't talk to him, then he decided to consult with someone they would.

As the link was established, Bruce drew himself back into the present. An image of his friend and butler came onto the screen. Bruce smiled warmly at his friend.

"Yes, Master Bruce?" the elder gentleman asked. He noticed his master's smile and wondered what was going on.

"I need for you to go to the airport in the morning and pick up a man named Caine. Bring him to the mansion as soon as you pick him up. I need to speak with him concerning a matter that only a Shaolin priest can help me with."

"Yes, Master Bruce. Will you be in for breakfast, or shall I set up an appointment for later in the afternoon with him?"

"I'll be in first thing in the morning. Make sure that he has something to eat and a chance to freshen up before I talk to him."

Bruce broke the transmission at his end as he pulled the Batmobile into a parking space near police headquarters and got out of the car. He then shot a grappling line onto the roof, smiling as the rope sprang taut and pulled him onto the roof where the Commissioner would no doubt be waiting.

**** ****

As the plane landed the next afternoon, Peter woke with a start. He had managed to sleep through the majority of the flight without any nightmares of crashing or going up in flames. He knew his father had something to do with that. As he pulled himself together, Caine touched his son on the arm.

"We are ready to land. You must strap in." He looked over his shoulder at Mary Margaret Skalaney and smiled at her. "The other passengers are already finished."

He watched as Peter fidgeted with the seat belt buckle. He could feel his child's intense dislike of flying. Caine wished he could do something to ease it, but he knew that it was something Peter had to come to terms with on his own. He would be there to offer him a hand if he needed it and him.

After landing, Peter and the others removed their seat belts and got up. Peter reached overhead for the two pieces of carry on luggage that he'd been allowed to bring and followed the others out of the plane. Caine was right behind him.

** **

"Will anyone on United Flight 420 from Sloanville with the last name of Caine please report to the ticket counter?"

Picking up the rest of their luggage, Peter and the others were surprised to hear their name being paged over the public address system of the Gotham International Airport. Peter left his luggage sitting beside of Mary Margaret and Kermit's.

"Are you expecting anyone to meet either of you?" Simms asked. She was suspicious when anything unplanned happened, but when it involved this father and son pair, it could be almost anything.

Caine shook his head. "I do not know." He turned to Peter. "Let us go see what they want."

Kwai Chang and Peter walked up to the ticket counter and the ticket attendant was surprised to see two men had answered her page.

As they turned to face him, Alfred gasped when he saw both of them and not knowing which one was the Shaolin priest, decided to take both of them to the mansion.

"Come with me," he said. He steered them both towards the door and headed for a limousine parked nearby. "You are expected by my employer."

Peter watched as Alfred escorted them to a nearby car. He then looked at his father, wondering what was going on. Kwai Chang merely shrugged his shoulders, since he himself had no idea what was going on.

As the two Caine men got into the car, Simms and the others watched as it pulled away from the curb and headed out of the city.

**** **** ****

Karen Simms wondered why someone had sent a limousine to pick up one of her detectives and his father, but out of her jurisdiction, she had no way to find out who owned the car. She locked eyes with the one person in her group that might be able to. Even though she couldn't see his eyes, she knew that the same thought was running through his head.

"Kermit, do whatever you have to in order to find out who owns that limousine. The conference begins at three this afternoon. You have that long to find out why they would send someone for Caine and his son."

"Consider it a done job," was all the computer jockey said as he left her room for the one that had been assigned to him. She knew that he would access the local law enforcement database wit the laptop computer he'd brought with him, but how he did it she didn't want to know. She knew that he knew all the methods, both legal and not so legal, and what she didn't know, she wouldn't have to lie about.

"Skalaney, make sure the rest of Peter's things made it here and that he's checked in. Then I want you to find out who has the kind of connections in this town that could afford to send a car and driver to pick someone up at the airport and would know our exact time of arrival."

Simms watched as Skalaney left the room. She knew of the young woman's attachment to Peter's father, and hoped that whatever was going on, both of them could handle it.

**** **** ****

As he entered the main dining room, Bruce was surprised to see two men conversing quietly in the corner by the bay window. One of them he knew, even though it had been many years since he'd last seen Kwai Chang Caine. At that time, Caine had had no hair, but there was no mistaking the face and the aura of power around the man.

There was something about the younger man that reminded him of what Caine might have been like if he'd not been a Shaolin priest. It was in the way the young man held himself, the quiet grace that confirmed to Bruce his relationship to Caine. It spoke of a bond of love and trusts that ran deep and bound them together. They were no doubt father and son.

Kwai Chang turned away from Peter as he sensed another presence in the room. He turned and faced his friend.

"I was wondering if you were going to come and tell us why you need us here," he said to the man in front of him. "It has been many years since we last saw each other at the temple. How have you been, my friend?"

"I have been well, Master Caine," Bruce said as he bowed to honor the Shaolin Master who had once been his teacher. "I hope that the years have been kind to you as well."

"Somewhat." He turned to face Peter. "He spent two years at the temple learning our ways. He was the first outsider we instructed in our practices." He turned his attention back to Bruce. "Your letter spoke of a problem that you had. You said that you needed my help."

"I am surprised that you brought someone with you. Is he one of your students?"

Caine and Peter locked eyes as an unspoken thought passed between them. "This is my son, Peter. Your servant did not know which one of us to bring, so he brought both of us. I hope we have not offended you. My son would like to let his companions know where we are."

"I think I'd better go call the hotel and let them know where we are," Peter said as his father followed Bruce into an anteroom where the millionaire had been doing paperwork earlier. Alfred came up beside Peter and touched him on the shoulder.

"May I help you, young master?" he asked politely.

"I need a phone," Peter replied. "I have to contact the Gotham Ritz and let my captain know where I am. I'm supposed to be at the policeman's conference there."

Peter followed as Alfred showed him to the phone in the hallway. As he dialed the number, he had no idea which rooms they'd been assigned. He decided to leave a message for her at the front desk in case they hadn't checked in yet. He glanced around the room while waiting for the connection to be made and saw all the antiques that lined the place. 'Grandfather Matthew would have a field day in this place,' he thought to himself. He pulled himself back to the matter at hand when a voice came on the line.

"I'd like to leave a message for Captain Karen Simms," he said as the desk clerk came onto the line. "Tell her that Detective Caine will return to the hotel in about an hour. My father and I are at the home of a man named Bruce Wayne." Peter listened as the desk clerk read his message back to him. "It's very important that she gets this message."

Peter hung up as Alfred brought a tray of various foods to the room where Wayne and his father were conversing. As he followed Alfred, Peter was amazed by the antiques scattered throughout the house and remembered his earlier thought. His first meeting with Matthew Caine ran through his mind. All he knew about the man was what he had read in the journals his father had given to him.

Stopping at the door to Bruce's office, both he and Alfred heard voices within. Peter opened the door since the butler had his hands full with the tray.

"There's been a series of murders in the Chinese community," Peter heard Bruce say to his father as he entered the room behind Alfred. "They won't open up to the police about them, but one of my friends there said that they would have sought the advice of a Shaolin priest if there had been one in the city. I was hoping that you might be able to get them to tell you something that might be of help to Commissioner Gordon."

Peter took the sandwich offered to him and began to nibble on it as his father considered his friend's words. He had to admit that he was somewhat hungry, as he'd not gotten to eat on the flight from Sloanville. His attention was drawn back to the matter at hand by his father's reply.

"I will do what I can to help, of course," Caine said. He could do no less as a Shaolin priest could, lest he dishonor his family line. "I think I can get them to reveal what they know." He turned and looked at Peter. "Will you please tell Mary Margaret that I will see her later tonight?"

Peter's brown eyes betrayed his emotions, but he said nothing to his father. Caine reached out and touched him on the head. He knew that his father would do all that he could to help and wondered if the effort would be enough. He nodded and then said, "I'll be sure to tell her. How will we get in contact with you if we should need to?"

"You will know where I am. I will find you at the conference." He smiled at his son. "I will know if I am needed."

Peter smiled, understanding that his father had meant he would know through their bond as father and son. He and his father got up as Wayne gave his butler some final instructions.

"Make sure that they get back to the city," he said. "Give Caine anything he might need in order to survive and blend in with the Chinese community. Put it on our accounts in the miscellaneous cash fund records."

"Yes, sir."

Alfred led Caine and Peter through the house to the garage where the limousine was parked. He would drive them back to the city, dropping young master Caine off at the Gotham Ritz, and then proceeding on to Chinatown to drop off the elder Caine as per Bruce's instructions.

**** **** ****

Peter checked in at the front desk at the Gotham Ritz and then asked which rooms he and his party had been assigned to. He knew that he had to check in with Simms and let everyone know he was all right before he went off on his own to explore the city.

Following the bellboy to the elevator, he got in and tried not to think of how high up he actually was. If it had been a glass elevator, he would now be nothing but a jumble of nerves. He was now higher than he really wanted to be. He hated heights!

He wondered how Skalaney would take his father being in Chinatown and looking into several murders without her for a friend who was obviously keeping secrets of his own that he didn't want revealed. The voice of the bellboy called him back to reality.

"Tenth floor, Detective Caine," he said as the door opened. The others had already brought Peter's luggage when he and his father left it at the airport following their departure with Wayne's butler.

"Thank you," Peter said. He walked out of the car and was almost ran down by the dashing form of Kermit Griffin, who was desperately trying to catch the elevator before it left. Peter put out a hand to steady his friend.

"Look out, Kermit," Peter said as the ex-mercenary's gaze came to rest on him over the ever-present shades that he constantly wore. "You could really do some harm if you keep moving at that pace!"

"Why as I live and breathe, if it isn't Detective Peter Caine." His eyes narrowed as he took in his friend's appearance and the fact that his father was missing. "How's things?"

"Pop's in Chinatown," he replied casually. "His friend needed his help in investigating several murders. He hopes that Pop might get them to open up to him as a Shaolin priest."

"Oh." Kermit looked at his young friend then grabbed him by the arm. "I think you'd better bring the captain up to date on what's happened."

He led Peter back to the room where he knew Karen Simms was waiting to hear from him on the results of his computer search of the local database. From it, he knew that Bruce Wayne was one of the wealthiest men in the world, he owned several multi-national conglomerates that manufactured everything from antibiotics to high-grade weapons. He also took a lot of trips over the last twenty years, and had friends in various parts of the world. This man was as widely traveled as he himself had been in his mercenary days.

Karen Simms was looking out of the window, wondering what happened to Peter when Kermit opened the door and led the missing detective into the room.

"Look what the cat found," he said in an attempt to lighten her mood. He smiled when he saw the look on her face. "It's our missing detective, Peter Caine. I thought you'd want to see him as soon as possible."

Simms calmly met Peter's gaze with unasked questions of her own for both of them. She gestured for Kermit and Peter to sit down.

As he sat down, Peter could no doubt anticipate her questions and decided to give her the answers he had in a clear and precise manner.

"I think I know what some of your questions are, so here goes. My father and I were picked up at the airport by the butler of a man named Bruce Wayne. He had sent my father a letter several days before our trip asking for his help with a problem," Peter began before she could even open her mouth. "My father agreed to remain in Chinatown to see what he could find out for the local police commissioner."

"So, what are we to do?" she asked. "Does he need any help from us?"

" If he does, I know how to find him." Peter looked from her to Kermit. "He said he'd be back tonight. We'll have to wait until then to find out."

Peter got up and walked out of the room and into the hallway. Kermit followed him.

"Have you told Skalaney yet? She might not want to let him go to Chinatown without back-up."

"I was on my to do just that when you sidetracked me into Simms' room for her little bout of question and answer." Peter looked at the man standing beside him. His training at the temple was enough to tell him something was bothering Kermit. "What's with you, Kermit? You're as about as nervous as a long tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs."

Kermit reached up, took off his glasses and then looked at Peter. He hated that he could do that. "I got an e-mail from an old friend named Kara. She's into something that she thinks might be way beyond her. She asked me if I could come, and I don't know how to approach the captain about it."

Peter knew of the special feelings he had for their commanding officer, but said nothing as Kermit continued. His chocolate eyes danced with unspoken mischief.

"Part of me wants to go, but I'm not sure how Captain Simms will react to it. I think I have something here worth fighting for. What I guess I'm asking for is some advice on how to tell her that I have to leave for a few days with no one being able to contact me."

"Be honest with her. Tell her that you owe this woman a favor from your mercenary days, and then let the Captain know exactly how you feel about her. Take her out to dinner at a romantic restaurant or go slow dancing, then escort her home and show her how you feel in your own way."

Kermit smiled at his friend. Peter Caine had an awful time with relationships with women, but his advice made sense. "And this from a man who can't maintain a relationship with one woman for more than four months at a time."

Peter smiled a charming, sexy smile that Kermit knew few women found irresistible. He knew that he'd helped his friend in a way that only he could. He also knew that Kermit had been teasing him. He hoped that his father would be proud when he found out. 'If I decide to tell him,' Peter thought to himself.

He left his friend standing by the elevator as he went to find Mary Margaret Skalaney.

**** **** ****

As night fell, Bruce was working on a piece of evidence from the Chinatown murders in the Batcave when Alfred called down with a message from Commissioner Gordon. There had been a burglary at the Gotham Museum and the only things taken were rare petrified pterodactyl eggs that had been on exhibit as part of the Museum's natural history month. As he listened, he knew that there was only one person who could be responsible: the Penguin.

Entering the changing room in the cave, Bruce began to put on the body glove that he wore under the costume that was part of his night work. It marked the identity of his other self: the self he'd chosen to embrace following the deaths of his parents all those years ago. Only a handful of people knew that the other identity existed, and those that did he'd trusted with his life many times over. He finished dressing in the black costume of the protector of Gotham City: Batman.

As he leaped into the Batmobile, he opened the holographic exit of the Batcave. Accelerating towards town, he was on his way to the Gotham Museum in no time at all.

** **

Commissioner Gordon was waiting on the man he'd called. He knew that he would be there in no time at all, and as he conferred with one of his investigators, he heard a familiar sound that he knew well. It was the whine of the Batmobile's turbine engines.

"He's here, Commissioner," one of the detectives said as the man in question leaped out of the car.

One of the newer detectives tried to stop him, but the Commissioner interceded before anyone could be harmed.

"Let him pass." Batman walked over to where Gordon stood. "I see you got my message." Batman nodded. He wasn't one to say all that much to anyone unless he had to. "The Penguin has stolen the petrified pterodactyl eggs on loan from the British Museum. If we don't recover them, there could be diplomatic repercussions from this could be very serious for us."

As he listened to the Commissioner, Batman visually scanned the room for any traces of evidence that might lead him to the Penguin's hideout. Seeing something near the door, he walked away from Gordon and picked up the item that had caught his attention. It was a feather of some sort. He would take it back to the Batcave to examine it.

"I still haven't heard from anyone in Chinatown as to the murders there," Gordon said to his friend in the cape and cowl. "I don't know if we ever will due to their unwillingness to open up to outsiders."

"I have someone working on that for us," he replied. "I got in touch with a friend of mine who is a Shaolin priest and maybe he can succeed where we've failed."

"Let me know if he finds anything out," Commissioner Gordon said as Batman headed for the Batmobile. He knew better than to ask Batman any questions in regards as to whom this mystery person was.

"If you need to get in touch with him, go to the Gotham Ritz and ask for a young detective named Peter Caine." Gordon's surprise must have been evident, but Batman said nothing. Usually, he didn't reveal the sources of his information, but this time, he had to make an exception. He continued with his explanation. "He's attending the International Police Conference there. The man in question is his father, Kwai Chang Caine."

As he reached into his belt, he pulled out a small pistol-like device and shot a grappling line into the stucco cement of a nearby roof. Gordon watched Batman launch himself into the night.

**** **** ****

Peter sat across the table from Mary Margaret and said nothing as she picked at her dinner. He knew that something was on her mind, but he didn't want it to seem that he was butting into her relationship with his father. He knew from working with her for the last two years that she would talk about whatever was bothering her when she was ready to.

He kept glancing over her shoulder at the door to see if his father had come into the dining room yet. He'd told his son that he would see him later tonight, but had set no specific time. He then glanced around the room to see if there was anyone he knew attending the International Police and Private Detectives Conference this year.

Peter smiled when a familiar face in a recognisable uniform caught his attention. As he turned and looked in Peter's direction, the young detective waved a greeting to him. Fraser smiled and waved back in response. Peter knew that wherever Fraser was, Ray couldn't be too far behind. He looked forward to seeing his two friends from Chicago again and looked forward to taking them out for a beer. He knew, however, that Constable Fraser wouldn't join them and Peter decided to make him their designated driver for the night.

Continuing to scan the room, Peter caught sight of a sorely missed face. He felt the old longings, but forcefully shoved them out of his mind. He didn't know if the person in question had seen him, but he couldn't be mistaken as to who it was. Before he could get up and walk over to where he stood, he turned and walked away with a large group of people, among them Kermit Griffin. There was much that he had to ask his friend upon his return to the hotel.

**** **** ****

Kwai Chang Caine walked through the city with no real place in mind as to where he wanted to go. As he continued along his path, several people noticed him and made comments to each other. Some even pointed at him curiously.

"Do you think he is lost?" one of them asked.

"He maybe looking for something," another said quietly, afraid that he might hear their conversation and take offense at their words. "He does seem intent on finding someone."

"Maybe he's new to the city," a female voice added. "Perhaps we should help him find what he's looking for."

The three of them walked up to Caine and the woman touched him on the arm. He inclined his head towards her in an attentive gesture.

"May we help you?" she asked. She somehow knew that he was no mere visitor to their section of Gotham City. He was here with a plan or mission that somehow pertained to them.

"I am looking for a good place to eat," Caine said. As he readjusted his pack on his shoulder, his sleeves slid forward enough to reveal the brands of the dragon and the tiger on each of his arms. She gasped when she saw them and he quickly pulled his sleeves down over them. Their eyes met in an unspoken communication. "I am new to this city and as such do not know my way around."

"You are Shaolin," she whispered so that only he could hear her words. He noticed the adoration in her voice as well as the pride at having been the one to find him here in their city. "I must take you to the elders of the community," she said. "You honor us with your presence. We have prayed that one of your kind would grace us by coming here."

Caine merely shrugged as the woman and her friends led him into the heart of the city. He knew that his meeting with Mary Margaret and Peter at the hotel would have to wait. This could be the break he'd been looking for and he was sure that his son would understand.

**** **** ****

Kermit knew that Peter had seen him with Paul Blaisdell and knew that there would be many questions that his friend would demand answers to. Paul had wished to keep his presence at the conference a secret in order to suprise Peter, but Kermit had to tell him what had happened.

"Paul, I know that Peter saw you in the dining room just now. How are you going to explain your presence here to him?" Kermit asked.

"I want you to bring him to my room tonight," Blaisdell said. "I owe him some sort of explanation as well as some answers to his many questions."

Paul thought about the young man down in the dining room that he'd raised from a confused and frightened child into a somewhat stable and confident young man. Over the few last years at the 101st, Paul had seen that confidence and stability shaken by the reappearance of Peter's real father, Kwai Chang Caine and the disappearances with no word for the son he'd often left alone. He was concerned because he knew that Peter's emotional defenses weren't all that strong due to his rough childhood and many were the nights he'd held his foster son as he cried himself to sleep after the nightmares.

Kermit was aware that seeing Peter without being able to talk to him and embrace him was pure hell for Blaisdell, but he knew that the ex-mercenary had his reasons for distancing himself from his family. Even though he didn't agree, he had to accept his reasons. But what Paul didn't know was that Kermit was going to do everything in his power to arrange events so that they would be constantly thrown together in situations that neither of them could readily walk out of. To do that, however, he would require the assistance of someone whom he'd caught the merest of glimpses of in the dining room before leaving with Blaisdell. He would contact Constable Fraser and see if the Mountie would help in what he had planned.

Kermit knew that if Peter had indeed seen Paul, then there would be no way in hell of keeping him from going to the man he considered his father as well as Caine. Kermit would do all that he could within his power to help Peter because he loved the younger detective like a brother. Peter had just come into the Blaisdell family to live when Kermit had first met him. He'd been doing some work for Paul when he felt someone watching his every move intensely. He'd called the child out and answered most of his questions as to who he was and what he did for a living. Kermit also noticed that the child had asked questions that most adults never thought to ask him. Kermit knew that he'd found a kindred spirit in Peter. Since that time, theirs had been a friendship born of trust and honesty and he wasn't sure that he would be able to lie to the one man in the world he'd willingly walk through hell and back for.

Paul had an idea as to what was going through Kermit's mind and saved him the trouble of having to come up with a convenient cover up as to why he felt the way he did. He knew of Kermit's feelings for Peter and respected his former comrade enough not to pry.

"I don't want you to lie to him about it, Kermit. I just want you to get him to come up here tonight. I want to see my son, and you're going to help me do it without attracting a lot of undue attention," he said simply. He gave Kermit no real choice in the matter, or so he thought. Kermit had plans of his own on how to get the two men together.

Kermit merely nodded and shrugged his shoulder, a perfect imitation of the elder Caine's Shaolin shrug. He said nothing, as to speak would have betrayed the depths of the emotions he felt for Peter and had managed to hide from the world.

**** **** ****

Commissioner Gordon sat alone at the desk in his office trying to catch up on some of the paperwork on his desk. The murders in Chinatown still bothered him, and even the routines he'd developed over the years that allowed him to block out the gruesome sights associated with the job couldn't erase the image of the last victim from his mind.

He picked up the recently-delivered autopsy report from the city coroner and opened it to the first page. The coroner hadn't been able to fix a time of death, but he'd learned what had actually killed the man. It read like something out of a toxicologist's nightmare. A mixture of exotic fluoride compounds had been used, by someone who knew exactly what they were doing, to kill him.

'This is too strange for me,' he thought to himself as he continued to read the report. He was unaware of the caped figure standing on the ledge outside his window.

Bruce watched as his friend read the report. He didn't want to do something unexpected that might trigger another heart attack. He thought about leaving, but stopped when a strong, but gentle voice reached his ears via the cowl's enhanced audio receptors. He didn't know that the sound of his cape rustling in the breeze had been heard.

"They've found another body, old friend," Gordon said gently. Batman entered the room and stood in front of Jim's desk. "I just got the autopsy report on the last body we fished out of the Gotham River. Someone pumped a mixture of different fluoride compounds into him."

He handed Batman the file and watched as the detective read the report. He saw the man's brow furrow in concern.

"Fluoride compounds are used in the mixture of exotic thermite charges," he said, confident in his knowledge of explosives. "Could someone be making thermite in an illegal chemical lab somewhere in this city?"

"It would explain a lot of things that have been happening in Chinatown," Gordon agreed. "But why haven't we heard about it before now? Our usual informants didn't even tell us about it."

"I don't know," Batman said as he handed Gordon the report and went out of the window.

**** **** ****

Caine listened patiently as the elders of the Chinese community argued among themselves in their native tongue. He knew what they were saying, but chose not to interrupt them.

Finally, the leader of the council, a man named Ling Su, turned and faced him.

"If you are Shaolin, then you must help us," he began. "We are being forced to do something that we do not want to."

"Who is forcing you to do this?"

"Dangerous men who make their money by selling arms to the highest bidder," the woman who had brought him to the Council said. "They threaten us with death. We do the work to remain alive."

"And the men who have been found by the police? How do they fit into all of this?" Caine asked, remembering his promise to Bruce to find out all he could about the mysterious murders.

"We were told that if we went to the police, our families would be harmed," Ling Su said. " The men who were found by the police were threatening to go to the commissioner with what they knew. They felt that we shouldn't be slaving away our lives for nothing. They killed them when they found out about their plans."

Caine looked around the room, suprised as to the fact that they hadn't acted before now. His suprise must have shown on his face as they turned away from him.

"And you have allowed this to go on without trying to prevent this kind of slavery?"

"They have our children, Shaolin!" Mei Lei shouted, her fragile voice echoing throughout the chamber. "We cannot and will not risk their lives! They are our future."

"I know some people who can help," he said, bowing slightly to her. "I promise you that your children will not be harmed."

Ling Su and the elders returned Caine's humble bow and watched as Sui Leing led him back to the corner where she and the others had found him.

**** **** ****

Peter got up from the table where he'd been sitting with Mary Margaret and walked over to where Fraser and Ray were eating with a diverse group of policemen from other parts of the world. The Mountie was talking shop with the others while Ray was looking for someone to go bar hopping with him. He saw Peter coming towards their table and motioned for him to join them.

"Hey, Pete!" Ray shouted above the din in the room, "come join us!"

Peter continued towards the table through a milling crowd of detectives and arrived after almost tripping over two waiters who had stopped in his path. As he stopped near the edge, Fraser pulled a chair from another table for the young detective from Sloanville to sit down on.

As he and Ray ordered beers for themselves, the concierge walked into the room, found Fraser and leaned over to whisper something in his ear. Seconds later, the young Mounted Policeman got up from the table and followed the concierge into the foyer. He was suprised to be met by Detective Kermit Griffin.

"I asked the concierge to bring you out here to talk, Constable Fraser, because I need your help and I don't want Peter to hear what I have to say to you."

Fraser looked at him curiously, unsure as to what Kermit had in mind. At the Canadian's silence, Kermit continued.

"There's a guest here at the conference, a man both Peter and I know. He's asked for me to arrange a meeting between them. I've agreed, because of what they mean to each other and what they both mean to me. I need your help in getting them together."

"How can I help?"

"Get him to come. . . " He thought for a moment. "That won't work. Bring the person in this room to the address I'll give you when I call you."

Griffin handed him a small piece of paper with a name and room number written on it. Fraser read it and then looked at Kermit, his eyes full of questions. Kermit offered him no explanations and Fraser wisely chose not to press him about it. Kermit could sense that the Mountie was tense and decided to compromise somewhat.

"Paul Blaisdell is Peter Caine's foster father. He wants to see him so he can explain why he left Sloanville without telling anyone where he was going. They need a chance to clear the air between them and make peace with each other."

Fraser nodded, finally understanding what was going on. He agreed to help Kermit in any way he could. As they stood there talking, Kwai Chang Caine walked into the hotel. He saw the two of them standing there talking and walked over to them. He waited for them to finish.

"Have you seen Peter, Kermit?" he asked during a temporary pause in their conversation.

"He's in talking with my friend Ray," Fraser said as he looked at Peter's real father. "I'll send him out to you." He then turned back to Kermit. "I will speak with you later, Detective Griffin."

Kermit nodded as he left to make plans to follow Peter later on that evening.

**** **** ****

Walking back into the dining room, Fraser went over to where he had left his partner sitting with Peter and the others. As he looked around, he saw that they had left the room while he and Detective Griffin had stood talking in the foyer.

"Where did the two detectives go that were sitting at this table with you?" he asked politely during a momentary pause in their conversation.

"They didn't say where they were going exactly," Misty Knight said as she took in his appearance. "All that your friends mentioned was that they were going bar hopping and that they would take a cab home later."

Fraser shook his head and sighed. He'd just missed them by mere minutes. He went back out to tell Caine that Peter wasn't in the hotel.

"They left just a few minutes before you arrived while Detective Griffin and I were talking," the Mountie said somewhat dejectedly. He had wanted to talk to Peter and Ray to find out where they were going, but Caine's stopping him had taken up the precious time that allowed them to leave unseen by anyone.

Caine inclined his head to the young man and started to leave when Fraser's voice made him stop and look back at the young Mounted Police officer.

"Might I be able to help?" he asked softly. He felt an odd need to help the Shaolin. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that his grandfather had known Caine's or that it was just part of his personality to help out when someone was in need.

"Perhaps later," Caine replied. He had to get in touch with Bruce and let him know what he'd found out from the elders about the murders that had taken place in Chinatown.

Fraser left for the room he shared with Ray while Caine went on into the dining room. He scanned the room, looking for a familiar face. He saw Mary Margaret sitting alone at one of the tables, picking at her long-forgotten meal. He went over to see what was going on and to see if she wanted any company.

**** **** ****

Kermit watched as the blip on the screen began to move. He had taken the time to plant a bug on Peter's jacket while the younger detective had been busy downstairs with Ray and the others.

*Good thing I asked Blake for a bug for the talk I'm giving tomorrow,* Kermit thought to himself. *Now I can use it to keep track of Peter and let Fraser know where to bring Paul.*

He pulled out of the hotel parking lot in a rental car as Ray and Peter took a cab to the nearest pub, a dive called O'Donnell's.

*Damn,* Kermit thought. *How am I supposed to get them together if Peter goes and ties on a drunk tonight?*

As the two detectives got out of the cab, Kermit parked a discreet distance away from O'Donnell's and walked to the bar. He didn't want Peter to think that he was spying on him. Walking up to the door, he flashed his Desert Eagle at the bouncer, a very tough looking greaseball named Biff.

"He's okay," Biff said as he saw the look on Kermit's face. "Let him pass." There was something about this man that made his teeth itch and his nerves stand on end. Something other than the presence of the Desert Eagle told him that he didn't want to cross this man. For once, he listened to his instincts.

Kermit went on into the pub. His nose was assailed by many different smells, several of them scents of things that weren't quite legal. As a cop, he knew that he should call the local police and let them raid the place, but Peter was here and would be arrested as well. That would not look too good on his record and wouldn't sit too well with Paul Blaisdell.

*Ugh, what a sleasy dive. I've seen better places in my mercenary days,* Griffin thought. *Although for the life of me, I can't remember where or when.*

He went to the back of the room and sat down in an available corner booth. He kept his shades on and didn't order anything to drink, which was one of the smartest things he'd done in a long time. He had to get Peter and Blaisdell together somehow. Slowly scanning the room, he looked for a telephone on which he could contact the Gotham Ritz and let Fraser know where to bring Paul.

He spotted one on a distant wall. He got up and walked over to it, cutting off a hooker who was making a beeline for it. He smiled charmingly as his hand closed around the receiver.

"Sorry, toots. First come, first serve," he said apologetically, even though no trace of the emotion was heard in his voice. "If you care to stick around, you might be able to get it before someone else beats you to it."

She stormed off in a foul mood, cursing his family for several generations. He turned back to the receiver and dialed the number of the Gotham Ritz.

"Connect me with Constable Benton Fraser's room," he said simply. There was a hesitant pause as the desk clerk had the operator connect him with the room in question. He started when Fraser's strongly accented Canadian voice came onto the line. "It's Griffin. Bring him to O'Donnell's Pub on Fourth Street. You'll recognise it when you get near it."

He hung up and went back to the corner booth he'd taken when he came in. It gave him a clear view of the dance floor, the bar and the front doors. He would do whatever he had to do in order to make sure that Ray and Peter stayed put until Benton Fraser arrived with Paul Blaisdell.

**** **** ****

Paul Blaisdell paced the floor of the living room in the suite he'd booked for the week of the conference. He was anxious to see his foster son and was waiting on Kermit to bring him to his room in secret. He hadn't wanted to make a big scene in front of everyone, so Kermit had agreed to arrange a more private reunion.

He stopped pacing as a knock came on his door. Paul determinedly strode over and opened the door, hoping to see Kermit and Peter. Instead, he was suprised to see a young man dressed in the formal uniform of a Royal Canadian Mounted Policeman. The young man turned and inclined his head as he registered Paul's presence at the door.

"My name is Corporal Benton Fraser," the young man said politely. His voice was tinged with a strong, but understandable accent. "I need to speak with Paul Blaisdell."

"Come in, Corporal," Paul said as he gestured for him to enter the room. "I'm Paul Blaisdell. How can I help you?"

"Detective Griffin wants me to bring you to O'Donnell's Pub," Fraser said calmly. He knew that Kermit had been trying to get word to Peter Caine about Blaisdell's desire to see him, but he had missed catching the young man before he and Ray had taken off for the pub. "He wants me to inform you that he will be keeping an eye on him and my partner."

Blaisdell took a few seconds to ponder Fraser's words, then went over to the couch and picked up his coat. Walking over to where the Canadian stood in the door, he shouldered his way into it.

"Let's go, Corporal."

Paul followed the Mountie as he led him to the elevator, down to the lobby and then outside of the hotel. He stopped at the curb long enough to hail a cab. As one pulled up to where they stood, he opened the door and let Blaisdell slide in first. Fraser slid in beside him and leaned forward to tell the driver where he wanted to go. Hearing the name of the pub, the driver nodded and took off, pulling into traffic dangerously close to a semi truck.

**** **** ****

Ray watched as Peter danced with a beautiful brunette while he sat at their table doing nothing. Unaware to either detective, Kermit Griffin sat in a booth a discreet distance away from their location.

The smoke bothered his eyes a little because of the slight cold he'd recently gotten over, but he outwardly showed no other signs that the atmosphere in the pub bothered him. In fact, it usually wouldn't. He'd spent many times in dives worse than this one in his days as a mercenary, so he knew how to protect himself.

He watched as Peter's hands roamed over the ample curves of his willing dance partner and thought ahead as to where it would end for them. It was a very erotic sight to see. Whoever she was, she matched Peter's hands stroke for stroke and his body move for move. It was as if they were joined as one body, moving together. He knew that in a few hours, that thought would become reality, given Peter's track record with women. He waited on Blaisdell and Fraser to arrive, unaware that in Chinatown, Kwai Chang Caine was heading towards his own role in a coming battle as well.

**** **** ****

As he walked up to where Commissioner Gordon stood talking with his officers, Bruce smiled to himself at the way his masked alter ego strode through the crowd. Though he hated to admit it even to himself, many of his best moments were in the guise of Gotham's dark night protector, Batman. Though he had more important responsibilities as Bruce Wayne, his responsibility as Batman came first.

With one more day until the benefit for the Policeman's Widows and Orphans Fund, it was times like this that he wished Dick was home. He had urged his young charge to spend a month abroad to gain some different views of the world at large. He pushed those concerns from his mind as he walked up to where Commissioner Gordon stood talking with the two patrol officers.

Gordon smiled at the respect and adoration the assembled crowd gave Batman as they moved aside and allowed him to walk through them to reach them.

"What have you got, Commissioner?" he asked. He then noticed that someone was standing behind Gordon and the patrol officer, but he couldn't see who it was.

"That's what this young man was about to tell me," Gordon replied as he gestured for the officer to continue with his report.

The patrolman making the report looked at Batman, awestruck at having to make his report to both the Commissioner and the Dark Knight. This was the first time he'd ever encountered Batman in person and he was nervous. He took a deep breath to calm himself and then continued his report.

"This man said that he had some information that he had to get to either you or Batman, sir. I thought he sounded serious enough to get in touch with you."

The officer and his partner stepped aside to reveal Kwai Chang Caine standing near the patrol car. To Batman's trained eyes, it was evident that the Shaolin had something he wanted to say, but he didn't want to speak in the midst of a crowd.

"I have. . . information that you might be able to use," he began calmly, giving no indication that he knew that the man behind the mask was his friend, Bruce Wayne. "I know who has been committing the murders in Chinatown and why."

Batman nodded, giving no indication that he knew Caine. He gestured for the Shaolin to follow him a little ways from the crowd so that they could talk in private.

"The murders were committed in order to send a message to the Chinese community," Caine said without waiting for the detective to speak.

"It makes sense, with all of the exotic thermite charges that have been popping up lately," Bruce said as he thought about Caine's words. "But why haven't they said anything to the police about them?"

Caine ignored his question, knowing the real reason why they'd held their silence. he bowed slightly and began to walk away from Bruce, but before he got completely out of earshot, he said something only Batman could hear due to the audio amplifiers in his cowl.

"Your secret is safe with me."

Batman watched in stunned silence as Caine vanished into the crowd.

**** **** ****

As he paid the cab driver, Dick Grayson smiled as he realised that he was truly home. Dick had taken a month abroad before starting school in the fall, but never realised just how much he'd really missed Wayne Manor and his new life as Robin. He'd returned home with much more than either he or Bruce could have hoped for. Opening the door and walking into the foyer, he was met by Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne's butler.

"How was your trip, Master Dick?"

"It was okay, Al," he answered as the older man took his bags and headed up the stairs with them. "But it is good to be back home again." Dick looked around the manor, trying to detect any trace of Bruce in the house, and realised that he wasn't there. The young man missed seeing the look of joy on the old man's face at his words. "Where's Bruce?"

"He's going to be tied up with Commissioner Gordon for some time in Chinatown. Since you've been gone, there have been several murders committed there with no valid explanation," Alfred said as he opened the door to Dick's room. He went inside and sat the bags down on the floor beside the bed. "Will there be anything else, young master?"

"No, Al. Thanks," he said as he picked up one of the bags and sat it on the bed. He then unzipped it and began taking things out of it. "I'll be down when I've finished unpacking."

"Very good, sir," he responded as he closed the door behind him, leaving Dick Grayson alone with his thoughts as he unpacked his belongings.

**** **** ****

Bruce smiled as he climbed out of the Batmobile. *It's good to be home,* he thought to himself. He knew that he would have just enough time to shed the suit, grab a shower and change clothes before dinner. He walked into the alcove where he stored his costumes and stripped out of the one he was currently wearing. He then turned on the water in the nearby shower and stepped into the steady stream of warm water a few minutes later.

As the warm water eased the tension of the day's activities as both Bruce Wayne and Batman away, he thought about how lonely Wayne Manor was without Dick. He considered sending a message to him, but then decided against it. He wanted him to have the experience abroad.

Turning off the water, he reached for a nearby towel and then ran it over his lean, muscular body. Many women would die to have his arms wrapped around them, but ever since his split with Chase, he'd not wasted the time to date. He knew that he couldn't commit to any one woman because of his unusual night life. After hanging the towel back on the rack to dry, he then walked over to the closet and picked out a pair of black trousers and a black turtleneck sweater. As his thoughts turned to other things, he quickly pulled on the clothes to combat the chill of the cave. After he was finished, he sat down in the chair and pulled on a pair of brown suede loafers. He then ran a comb through his brown hair and stood up.

Bruce went into his weapons locker and began a casual inventory of his various bat-gadgets. He found that there was nothing that would allow him to slip into a place without making any noise, so he set part of his focus on creating such an item. For what he and Caine had to do, he would just have to make do with what he had currently.

He headed up the now familiar path that led from the Batcave to the silver closet in Wayne Manor, thinking about what Caine had said to him before he'd vanished into the crowd. It was obvious that the Shaolin knew his secret, but he had no idea what to do about it.

Alfred met him as he came out of the closet with a small stack of papers that needed his signature as well as the evening copy of the Gotham Gazette.

"Dinner will be ready in half an hour, " he said as he handed his boss the stack of papers. "These were just delivered for you and require your immediate attention." He had decided to say nothing about Dick being home in order for it to be a suprise. He had seen how lonely Bruce had been during the younger man's absence and wanted him to have one moment of joy amidst all the darkness of recent events.

Bruce took the papers and looked at Alfred, trying to determine the older man's intentions, but after a few minutes, he gave up. "I'll be in the study," he finally said. Alfred noticed that he headed for the downstairs one rather than the one upstairs and just off his bedroom.

Alfred nodded as he headed back to the kitchen to finish the evening meal.

** ** **

Entering the den, Bruce sat down at the oak desk and began leafing through the papers Alfred had given him. Most of them were connected to the benefit and he paid extra attention to them. He knew that he wanted to invite the policemen from the convention as a common courtesy. Many of them were from various parts of the world and he wanted to give them an evening to remember.

He made a note to have someone deliver the invitations in the morning so that they would have time to rent tuxedoes and formal gowns for the evening, then focused his attention on the remaining stack of papers.

As he continued working, his attention was focused solely on what he was doing. He barely heard the soft creaking sound as the door to the study swung inward. He looked up, thinking that it might be Alfred coming to tell him that dinner was ready. He really didn't feel like eating in the dining room since Dick wasn't home yet. He'd just have Alfred bring him something on a tray and continue working in the den.

"Alfred, could you just bring me something on a tray to eat here in. . ." His voice stopped short and he felt a lump form in his throat. A familiar and sorely missed face appeared as the door completely opened. He couldn't believe that Dick had made it home in time for the benefit. "Dick!

Bruce got up from the desk and walked over to where Dick stood. His arms went around the young man and pulled him into a warm embrace. After a few minutes, he moved away, but remained within arms reach of Dick. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but in light of the fact that he was home, none of them seemed to really matter. All that mattered to him was that Dick was back home where he belonged.

**** **** ****

Benton Fraser walked into O'Donnell's Pub beside Paul Blaisdell and found his senses assailed by scents and sounds that he was unaccustomed to. He inhaled sharply in surprise and then had to quickly suppress the urge to cough. Beside him, Paul smiled as he noticed the Mounte's discomfort as well as the effect his dress reds had on the crowd.

"Maybe you should wait outside on me?" he asked, watching as Fraser struggled to regain enough of his voice to answer him.

Instead of trying to talk, Fraser nodded, his throat still irritated by the heady smoke of the bar. He said nothing as he turned and walked back the way he'd just came in. As Paul watched, everyone visibly relaxed. Turning his attention away from the door, he scanned the room for Kermit Griffin and found him sitting in a corner booth that allowed him an unobstructed view of the dance floor.

Kermit stood up as Blaisdell approached the booth. He hoped that Peter hadn't seen him come into the pub, but he needn't have worried. The younger Caine's attention was still focused on his attractive dance partner.

Paul knew that in the months he'd been away, there would no doubt be changes in his family and friends, but in Peter's case, the changes were barely noticeable and did nothing to erase whatever it was that made his foster son attractive to women.

Kermit smiled as he looked around the room, trying to find Benton Fraser. "Where's Fraser? I thought he might have come with you?" the younger mercenary finally asked.

"He did," Blaisdell replied as he tore his gaze away from Peter and his companion. "In full dress reds. He was making everyone in here nervous, so I asked him to wait outside on me."

Movement from the dance floor caught Kermit's attention and he glanced away from Blaisdell in time to see Peter and Ray heading for the door. Kermit stood up and followed them with Blaisdell in tow.

"Damn!" Kermit swore through clenched teeth. "All of our efforts will be shot to hell if we don't catch up to them before they get a cab!"

Both of them headed out the door, trying to catch up to them before they managed to get past Benton Fraser. Kermit knew that it was going to be a long night and he also knew that he had a seminar to give later today.

Unlike Kermit, Paul knew that if he failed to connect with Peter and they managed to get away, he'd have one more chance to see him at the benefit Bruce Wayne was throwing for the Policemen's Orphans and Widows Fund later that evening.

**** **** ****

As she woke the next morning, Karen Simms decided that it was time for a meeting with the officers under her command who had attended the conference with her. She called down to the front desk to have the clerk leave messages for them.

"Captain Simms, I have a young gentleman down here who wants to see you. He has something to deliver to you and he's to make sure that you get it in person."

"Give me five minutes, and then send him up and have room service send up a single breakfast for me." She was curious as to who would be sending them anything.

She hung up and headed for the bathroom to get dressed for the morning conferences she had scheduled. One of them was hosted by one of her own detectives, Kermit Griffin. She wanted to be there to give him some emotional support, but was unsure if he was still giving his talk. He'd not contacted her all night and she wondered what he was up to.

She had just finished dressing as a knock came on her door. She opened it and found a nice looking young man standing with his back to the door.

"I'm looking for Captain Karen Simms of the Sloanville Police Department," Dick turned at the sound of someone opening the door behind him.

"I'm Simms. Please come inside," she said as she gestured for him to follow her into the room. Before she closed the door, she saw the man from room service come out of the elevator with her breakfast. He pushed the cart into her room and she tipped him before he left. Then she turned her attention back to the waiting Dick Grayson. "And how can I help you?"

"I'm supposed to deliver these to you and the officers with you." He handed her the invitations and noticed that all of them were addressed in Bruce's handwriting. He had taken the time to address each one of them personally. He said nothing about the fact that Bruce had also made no doubt previous arrangements with the owners of all of the tuxedo and gown shops in Gotham so that their bills would be sent to him. "Bruce Wayne is hosting a charity benefit tonight for the Policemen's Widows and Orphans Fund and he'd like for all of you to attend as his guests. Each of them has an address as to where you might pick up formal gowns and tuxedoes."

Simms regarded him with a curious gaze that asked many questions all at once. "Please tell Mister Wayne that we'll be there, Mister. . . "

"Grayson," Dick finished for her as he offered his hand. "Dick Grayson."

"I look for ward to seeing you there," she said as she walked him out the door.

Dick stepped into the elevator car and headed for the ground floor of the hotel. Karen then met Mary Margaret near her suite and together they headed for the morning conferences.

**** **** ****

Dick smiled as he headed out of the hotel, having completed his errand. Even though he'd not been asked to, he knew that in fact of Bruce's odd nightlife, it was either he deliver them or force Al to take time from his busy schedule and do it. Since he was coming into Gotham anyway, he took the task on himself without saying anything to anyone about it or his plans.

He turned left as he walked out of the door and headed for the nearby motorcycle shop, wanting to see the Harley that had caught his eye the last time he'd been in the shop with Bruce. He made it a point to visit the place at least once or twice a week in the intervening time.

It wasn't that he wanted Bruce to give him the bike, but he wanted to earn the money to pay for it on his own. That meant getting a job where no one knew that he was the ward of billionaire Bruce Wayne.

The owner of the shop saw the look on Dick's face as he stared at the bike. Even though he'd seen the kid in the place before, he didn't make the connection between Dick and the man who had placed the order for the bike to be delivered to Wayne Manor.

"It's already been sold, young fella," he said. "It's to be delivered to its new owner later today."

"Oh," Dick said dejectedly. He'd waited too long to find a way to earn the money for the bike. He tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. Turning away from the shop owner, who had begun to speak to him, the young man walked away without hearing him.

**** **** ****

Alfred went into the den to pick up the invitations that Bruce had asked him to deliver and found that they weren't on the desk where Bruce said they would be. He went into the main dining hall where Bruce was finishing a late breakfast to find out what he'd done with them.

"I left them lying on the corner of the desk, Alfred," he said as they walked back to the den to see if they could locate them. He stepped behind the desk and saw that the invitations were indeed gone. His brow furrowed in concern. "Has Dick left the house this morning?"

"He left early this morning, Master Bruce. I also noticed that he had his knapsack with him," the butler replied. He and Bruce looked towards the door as it opened and Dick walked through it and into the foyer. Without saying anything to them, he headed up the stairs to his room on the second floor. It was obvious to the two of them that something was bothering him.

Alfred heard a knock on the door and moved to answer it, leaving Bruce to watch Dick go up the stairs. He came back with a delivery man who explained what he wanted in no terms.

Having seen the look on Dick's face, Bruce decided to let the matter of the invitations drop. He hoped that the gift he'd arranged to be delivered later today would take his mind off of his troubles. After a few minutes hesitation, he moved to follow him and see if Dick was alright.

** ** **

Tossing his knapsack onto his bed and his helmet onto the shelf in his closet, Dick Grayson looked long and hard at the black tuxedo hanging there. He'd always hated wearing what he and Chris jokingly called "the penguin suit," but his parents had compromised and allowed him to wear a leisure suit whenever the family was required to make public appearances.

He turned from the closet and the memories of his family as the door to his bedroom slowly creaked open. He looked up and saw Bruce standing in the doorway watching him, a confused look on his face. It was obvious that he wanted to help, but right now, Dick wanted to be left alone.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he finally asked.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "By the way, I delivered some invitations that were lying on your desk this morning. I was going into Gotham anyway, so I thought I'd save Al a trip."

Bruce nodded, knowing that Dick hated being waited on and would take any opportunity to repay Alfred. He wondered what was going on inside of Dick's head, but decided not to pry.

"Now I won't have to worry about them being delivered." He still watched the younger man very closely, trying to figure out what was bothering him.

Dick nodded, barely hearing Bruce's words. He'd hoped to have a little time to himself in order to collect his thoughts before the benefit. There had to be a reason as to why Bruce was there, as most of the time, the billionaire left him alone until they were needed.

"Is there something particular you wanted?"

"There's a delivery for you downstairs," Bruce said calmly. "They need your signature and they won't accept anyone else's."

Bruce walked out of the room with Dick following behind him. They went downstairs, through the mansion and out to the garage where a man with a delivery truck stood waiting impatiently. Dick wondered who would be sending him anything.

"You Grayson?" he snapped, watching as Dick nodded. " Got a delivery for you." He shoved a clipboard at Dick." Sign this and I can get outta here."

Scrawling his name on the paper, Dick tried to figure out what it was that would need a small delivery truck to transport it. As the driver pushed out the item, he could see that it was the bike that he'd had his eyes on ever since that day Bruce and him had seen it in the shop. He couldn't believe his eyes.

Both Alfred and Bruce watched him as his face lit up. They were glad they had managed to have the bike delivered today instead of waiting. Unknown to Alfred, he had one more suprise in store for the young man who had become like a brother to him, but that one would come later on.

"Take her for a spin and then come back and get ready for the benefit," Bruce said. He understood Dick's reaction and thrill of discovery. It was obviously a suprise to him as he recalled Dick's face when he'd first seen the bike all those weeks ago. He wanted to give him something to enjoy and to take his mind off the death of his family a year ago. This bike had seemed the way to go.

Dick raced back through the house to his room and grabbed his helmet from the shelf in the closet. He bolted back to where his friends and the bike waited for him. He knew that he had some time before the benefit and he decided to make the most of it.

**** **** ****

Hours later, having put the bike away and cleaned up, Dick made his way around the room, meeting Bruce's guests. As he continued moving through the room, he felt the curious stare of someone coming to rest from across the room. Turning, he found himself lost in the most intense pair of hazel eyes and a genuinely warm and friendly smile.

Inhaling sharply, he met the gaze of the person behind those eyes. He asked for and was given no quarter when their eyes met. It was as if each of them had found a familiar, yet kindred spirit. Neither of them moved nor spoke, but stood their ground in their silent battle of the wills.

From across the room, Bruce Wayne watched the interaction between Dick and Caine's son, Peter. He was about to walk over and see if anything was wrong when a gentle had touched him on the arm.

"We. . . must speak in private," Caine said. Bruce tried to discern his intentions, but found that his former teacher was hard to read. He gestured towards the foyer and Caine followed him.

"What about?" he asked as the last person in the foyer had entered the main ballroom.

"I require your. . .assistance in rescuing some children being held hostage in Chinatown," he said calmly. "I did not wish to inform you in front of your friend, Commissioner Gordon." He looked at Bruce and saw the shocked look on his face. "You might be able to fool others, but you. . .cannot hide your true self from me."

Bruce nodded, accepting the implication of his words. "If we can't involve the police, then how are we going to rescue them?"

"We cannot involve the local police," Caine began, very carefully putting his thoughts into words, "but we do have access to a hotel full of police officers from all over the world. Can we not. . .utilise their skills?"

Bruce carefully considered Caine's words, weighing the pros and cons of involving them in something that should be handled by local police officers in whose jurisdiction the crime was committed. He then realised the reason why he couldn't: Gordon and his men were all too well known.

"Pick four others you feel you can trust with your life and the lives of the children. We'll meet you in the alleyway beside the Gotham Ritz later tonight."

Caine nodded and bowed before he turned and went back into the ballroom to rejoin Peter and Mary Margaret.

**** **** ****

While Caine and Bruce talked in the foyer, Dick and Peter slowly made their way to the back of the room. They wanted to talk away from the prying eyes of Caine and Bruce as well as the rest of the crowd.

"Peter Caine." He offered Dick his hand. "Detective, 101st Precinct."

"Dick Grayson," he replied as they shook hands. Dick was surprised by the strength in the other man's grip.

"Are you related, by chance, to any of the members of the Flying Graysons?" he asked casually. His Shaolin senses picked up the almost imperceptible changes in Dick's emotional state.

"They were. . . " Dick began tentatively, but stopped as he felt a lump forming in his throat. He hadn't thought about what day it was, and he fought back a wave of pain and longing. "They were my parents and older brother."

Peter put his hand on Dick's shoulder. "I'm sorry. We heard about what happened to them even up in Sloanville." He offered what support he could to Dick as he continued. "I saw your family perform one time near a Shaolin temple in California. I envied you being up there flying while I was trapped on Earth."

As they continued talking, neither of them noticed a silver-haired figure watching them from the doorway. Alfred smiled, knowing that Dick would no doubt benefit from spending some time with young Master Caine.

**** **** ****

Caine looked around the room, trying to find his son. He had to get word to him, Kermit, Ray and Fraser that they would be participating in a great mystery and that they needed to meet him in the alleyway beside the Gotham Ritz after the party broke up.

As he danced with Karen Simms, Kermit could tell something was bothering Caine. He moved away from her when Commissioner Gorden tapped him on the shoulder to cut in.

"What's up, Caine?" he asked, walking up to Caine almost silently. He was slightly out of breath having fought his way through the crowd to get to him.

"Have you seen. . .Peter lately?" he aksed as the mercenary as he continued to scan the room for his son.

"He's outside talking with Wayne's young friend," Kermit responded. He regarded Caine curiously for a moment, then carefully chose his next words before speaking. "Something is bothering you, isn't it?"

Caine stared at Kermit, momentarily stunned at the mercenary's assessment. He quickly regained his composure before he spoke. "Peter, you and two others you trust must meet me in the alleyway beside the Gotham Ritz."

Kermit nodded, looking around the room for the two men who would fit that description. He saw Ray standing near the bar chatting with a policeman from Mexico, but realised that there was no sign of Benton Fraser.

As Caine went to look for his son, Kermit went in search of Fraser. What no one knew was that the young Canadian was still trying to get Peter Caine and Paul Blaisdell together.

**** **** ****

Peter saw Fraser and an unidentified man enter Bruce's downstairs library. He pointed it out to Dick, who suggested that they discreetly follow them

"We'd better go take a look," Dick said as rapid movement from Peter caught his eye.

"I hate walking into this without my gun," Peter said as his hand grabbed empty air where his gun would normally be.

"Leave that to me," Dick said as he quietly opened the door. Peter was suprised at how silently and confidently the younger man moved down the hallway. There was more to Dick Grayson than met the casual eye.

As the door opened, Peter saw the bright red uniform and clean cut face of Corporal Benton Fraser. The man he was conversing with, however, had his back to the door and no one could see him.

"We have to find a way to get Peter to come to the library," Fraser said. His strong Canadian accent stood out in a crowd and made it much easier for anyone to find him.

"Find Kermit," the man said. "He'll know how to get him to come."

Dick felt Peter tense beside him and decided to wait until the man had finished, but nothing would keep Peter from going into the room once he'd heard that voice. He'd recognised it, even without seeing the face of the person talking.

"Paul?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. When Blaisdell turned at the sound of his name, Peter couldn't believe his eyes. Neither could Paul. Moving towards his foster father on his own, Peter was pulled into a fierce and warm embrace as soon as he got within arms reach of the man he considered to be his second father.

Fraser looked at Dick, a confident, but proud look on his face. He knew that they would no doubt want to have some time alone to catch up on everything that had happened since Blaisdell had left.

"Let's give them some privacy," he said as he led Dick out the door and back to the party.

**** **** ****

Peter drew away from Paul Blaisdell and began pacing the library nervously. Paul remained silent as he watched his foster son and waited for him to speak. After a few tense moments of silence, Peter turned to face him.

"Why haven't you contacted any of us since you left?" he finally asked. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but none of the rest seemed as important as that single question. "Didn't you stop to think what this would do to the rest of us?"

"I had to leave to keep the rest of you safe," Paul said as he tried to explain his reasons for leaving. "I couldn't take the risk of someone else using Annie, you or the girls against me. I had to get away from the demons of my own past.

Peter listened as Paul tried to explain the reasons why he left Sloanville, but all the while he knew that there was an empty hole in their lives where he should be.

"And it doesn't bother you that you now have a grandson you've never met?" Peter asked. He knew that he was taking advantage of the one sore spot Blaisdell had. "What about Mom? Did you ever give any thought to how she feels about you up and leaving?"

Paul visibly flinched as he watched Peter pace the floor of Bruce’s library. He knew that he’d seriously misjudged the depths of his foster son’s feelings of abandonment. Kermit had tried to warn him about it, but he thought he knew Peter better than that.

"I did what I felt I had to in order to keep the rest of you safe," Paul said. "If I had stayed, someone else would have come after me and used all of you in order to get to me." He walked over to the window and stared out of it into the darkness, aware that the darkness had somehow become part of him. "I don’t expect you to understand my reasons."

Peter looked at Paul’s back, trying to put his thoughts and feelings into words. As he started to speak, a soft knock on the library door interrupted his train of thought. He walked over to see who was at the door and was suprised to see Dick Grayson standing on the other side.

"Your father was looking for you," he said as he met Peter’s curious gaze. "The party’s breaking up and Bruce is calling it a night." He then noticed the look on Peter’s face, but said nothing about it.

Peter, having made his feelings on the matter known, turned and walked out the door without saying anything.

**** **** ****

As the last of the party guests departed the manor, Bruce turned to face Dick and Alfred. His ever-expressive blue-green eyes held a glint of the danger to come tonight.

"Our night’s not over yet, Dick," he said as he headed towards the silver closet. "Caine needs our help in rescuing a group of children being held hostage in Chinatown."

Descending the stairs, he triggered a hand-held control that activated the lights and equipment in the Batcave. He then turned to face Dick and Alfred and saw the briefest flicker of uncontrolled fury in Dick’s eyes before the younger man clamped a lid on his emotions.

** ** **

As Caine and the others were making their way to the alleyway where they were to meet him, Bruce and Dick were putting the final touches on their costumes for the evening.

While Alfred helped Dick select which cape to wear with his new Robin costume, Bruce positioned a cowl over the upper portion of his face, obscuring most of his features. For the most part, it usually did a good job of hiding the truth of his secret identity from the rest of the world.

Hearing soft footsteps approaching him from behind, Bruce turned and took in Dick Grayson’s appearance. He noticed that for tonight’s activities, he had chosen a solid black cape to go with the almost-black costume he wore. The only hint of color on it was a stylised Robin down his chest and across the arms of his costume. He was amazed at how good Dick looked in his new costume.

Bruce said nothing as he headed for the turntable on which the Batmobile was parked. Once the turntable completed its rotation and came to a stop, Batman popped the canopy and hopped into the cockpit. He then closed it after him, saying nothing to either of them. With the flick of a switch, the engine roared to life and Batman sped off into the night.

A few seconds later, the turntable split open and a hydraulic platform rose to fill the opening. On it sat a gleaming red and black motorcycle, the Redbird. Bruce had had it custom made for Dick and tonight would see its trial run.

Robin straddled the bike and gunned the engine with the ease and familiarity of someone who was used to motorbikes, having spent most of his life around them. He followed the road the Batmobile had taken, pausing long enough to stop and speak to Alfred.

"Looks like it’s going to be a long night, Al. Have breakfast waiting for us when we get back," he said, a sly smile playing across his face. He enjoyed the minor verbal sparring matches he had with Alfred and realised that they didn’t dampen the love and respect he felt for the old man.

"Do be careful, Master Dick," the butler called out to the young man as he continued towards the holographic exit of the Batcave.

** ** * *

As the Batmobile and the Redbird sped towards the city, both men checked their onboard weapons systems. All readouts indicated that they were at optimum efficiency. Bruce spared a quick glance from his control panels to see how Dick was doing on the Redbird.

Bruce had spared no expense in having the cycle custom made for his ward and had even enlisted Alfred’s help in getting the information from Dick he needed for the designers to build it.

Dick flashed him a warm, broad smile and flashed a thumb's up signal to let him know that all was well with the Redbird. Though he’d said nothing to either Bruce or Alfred, he’d figured out what was going on early in the game and decided to play along with them in order to find out what they were up to.

They pulled into an alleyway one block from where they were to meet Caine and the others. They parked their vehicles in a hidden garage, deciding to walk the rest of the way to the Gotham Ritz.

**** **** ****

Entering the building that his contact had identified as the one where the children were being held, Batman took the lead as Caine and the rest of the team brought up the rear. He’d put Robin in the middle of the group with Peter Caine in order to protect both of them.

When the time came, Peter and Robin would be responsible for locating and leading the children out of the building while he and the others dealt with those who had kidnapped them and blackmailed their parents into doing things against their natures.

As he thought back to when he told Dick that they would be rescuing a group of children, Bruce remembered the intense anger that had flashed in the blue eyes of his young friend. For a moment, he’d actually considered leaving Dick at home, but then recalled something that he’d once told him in a fit of anger following his parents’ death. He’d always know when Batman was needed and be there regardless.

Slipping through the door he’d just opened with his electronic lock picking kit, Bruce stopped for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness inside.

"We have no idea as to how many guards there are," Batman said as he continued down the hallway. "So unless there’s absolutely no choice, don’t call attention to ourselves until Peter and Robin have found the children and led them out of here."

Everyone nodded, each of them knowing the importance of what they were doing. Kermit’s grip tightened on the grip of the Desert Eagle in his hand. His eyes were obscured by the green shades he wore.

As they checked the building room by room, they found nothing. Fraser and Ray continued, even though there seemed to be little trace of the children.

"Come on, Benny," Ray whispered, his voice little more than a hiss. "We’ve got to keep moving before they find us."

The Mountie nodded, his eyes showing no trace of emotion. He wasn’t about to let these kids down. Looking off to his left, he saw the spectral image of his father.

"The children are bing held in a room in the basement, Benton," Robert Fraser’s image said. "You must hurry, or they’ll be killed."

As the image of his father faded, Fraser turned back to his friend and partner.

"We have to get to the basement," he said tersely. "The children are being held there."

"We have to let the others know," Ray answered. He knew that alone, the two of them didn’t stand a chance against a small army.

"We don’t have the time, Ray!" He was trying to get across the necessity and the urgency of finding the children as soon as possible. "If we don’t hurry, those who are holding them will kill them when they leave this building."

Ray raised an eyebrow at Fraser’s words, but said nothing. Usually when his friend insisted on something, it was the right thing to do. He followed Benton down the stairs towards the basement, all the while hoping that they’d be on time to save the kids.

**** **** ****

"Where do you think the kids will be held?" Peter asked.

"Batman thinks that the best place to hold them would be in the basement," Robin said. He consulted the wrist chrono built into the cuff of his left glove. "We don’t have a lot of time until daybreak."

Peter regarded the figure leading him into the basement with a mixture of curiosity and dread. He didn’t know whether or not he should trust this oddly garbed young man, but it was obvious that his father trusted both him and his darker friend without explaining why.

As they continued own the stairwell leading to the basement, Peter tried to push all external concerns from his mind. His father had explained the necessity of both stealth and speed on this mission. If they failed, the children would die.

A sound off to their right drew their attention back to the here and now. Robin quickly drew Peter into the shadows concealing part of the stairwell. To their suprise, the noise had been made by two familiar figures.

Peter stepped out of the shadows as they walked by, followed by Robin.

"What are the two of you doing down here?" he asked his friends. "You’re supposed to be upstairs with the others covering our backs."

Ray threw up his hands and then gestured to Fraser as he turned to face them. "Benny here insisted. I don’t know how or why, but he seems to think that the kids are being held down here."

Robin gestured off to his left. "You guys take the doors on this side while Peter and I take the doors on this one," he said confidently.

Peter stopped in his tracks, his eyes focused on Robin. The confidence in his voice, the way he carried himself, his demeanor and all the other subtle little clues fell into place. He knew why he found himself trusting Robin without question. But if Dick Grayson was Robin, then that meant Batman could be only one other person. His face paled at the realisation of what he knew.

"Oh my god," Peter quietly whispered as he opened the door. No one else suspected that his words also masked the shock he felt at having pieced together Batman and Robin’s secret identities. "I found them."

Everyone wondered what had upset the young detective and looked into the room over his shoulder. What they saw made each of them turn away in disgust.

"We’ve got to get them out of here," Ray said, his voice reflecting the rage that each of them felt. There were some things that he’d turn a blind eye to, but not anything like this.

"Watch our backs, Ray," Fraser said as he, Peter and Robin began waking the sleeping children. As they woke up, they began chattering questions at their rescuers in Chinese.

"They want to know who we are," Peter said, translating the language. He explained to them that they were here to rescue them and take them home to their parents. As Robin stepped into the light, he watched the obvious effect his presence had on them. They settled down and began to obey him. As they were about to leave the room, Ray stuck his head back inside with a warning.

"We’ve got company coming," Ray said as he drew his service revolver. "They won’t let us just up and walk out with their hostages without a fight."

"The four of us are all the protection these kids have," Robin said. "We have to protect them at all costs."

As Peter drew his Baretta and moved to join Ray, Robin removed three items from his utility belt: a Birdarang and two spheroid shaped objects. Fraser watched as he fell into place behind Ray and Peter.

"When I throw these, cover your noses and mouths," Dick said. He then remembered that the children didn’t speak English. "Peter, can you have the children do what you do? These," he began as he held up the objects in his hand, "contain a very potent sleeping gas."

Peter turned back and explained to the children what he wanted them to do with both words and gestures. Dick watched him as he got his point across and smiled.

"They understand what they’re to do when the time comes," he replied. "How are we going to get them outside the building if there’s going to be a firefight?"

"I’m hoping that with the sleeping gas, we might be able to avoid one," Robin replied grimly. "If we can’t, then we’ll just have to take as many of them out with us as we can before they get us."

As the kidnappers came towards the room where the children were, Dick tensed, ready to release the sleeping gas bombs. While Robin threw them, Peter gestured for the children to cover their noses and mouths. Fraser and the others did the same while Dick put a rebreather on his face.

"Go!" he shouted, having heard the hiss of the gas coming from the bombs as they exploded against the far wall. "Head for the stairs and try not to breathe the gas!"

Ray and Benton led the children to safety while Peter and Robin brought up the rear. Nearing the stairs, they heard the sounds of footsteps running down towards them. Ray and his partner ld the children into the alcove behind the stairs while Peter and Robin remained out in the open.

** ** **

Unaware of the confrontation taking place several floors beneath their feet, Caine and the others continued their search of the upper floors. So far, they had found nothing. Kermit scouted ahead and found a door that led to the central stairwell of the building. He opened the door and then turned back to face the others.

"Which way do we go, boys?" he asked as he adjusted his shades. "Up or down?"

Bruce turned to look at Caine when he failed to respond to Kermit’s question. It was obvious that his attention was focused elsewhere on something else.

"We must go down," he finally said. "Peter and the others have ran into trouble. They have found the children and are trying to get them out."

Batman took the lead, taking the steps three at a time with Caine and Kermit following close behind. To anyone else, these three men would have seemed like a blur, but they made it to the basement level without anyone being injured.

To their shock and horror, they were greeted by the sounds of gunfire as they reached the last step.

** ** **

As Robin tossed the Birdarang he held in his hand, he felt a sharp stinging pain in his right arm. Dropping to his knees, he drew his left hand away from the source of his pain and saw that it was covered with blood.

"Dick?" Peter asked as he saw Dick kneeling beside him. He immediately noticed that Dick’s hand was covered with blood. He hadn’t wanted to reveal what he knew, but his concern for his friend betrayed his knowledge and intentions. He knelt beside him to see if there was anything his Shaolin training could do. "Let me see if I can do anything."

He ran a cursory check to see what the damage was and found that the bullet was still inside the wound. He focused his chi strength on the spot where the bullet was.

"You. . .know, don’t you?" Dick asked, his voice low enough that only Peter could hear him. His blue eyes met Peter’s stern brown ones, unflinching in their intensity and unswerving in their gaze.

Peter nodded, unwilling to break his concentration. He had to stop the flow of blood without damaging the tissue. Unknown to either of them, Caine and the others had slipped quietly down the stairs and had managed to catch the kidnappers off guard.

During the fight, one of the kidnappers realised who their opponent was and ordered his men to surrender. As Kermit bound them, Bruce and Caine ran over to where Peter knelt beside Dick. Robin looked up and met his mentor’s gaze.

"We’ve got to get him somewhere where we can get the bullet out of him, " Peter said as he realised who was kneeling beside him. "Until we do, we can’t risk moving him too much."

Bruce frowned, knowing that they had to get medical attention for Dick without compromising the fact that he was Robin. He was still pondering what to do when Caine spoke to him.

"I can help him," Caine said as both Bruce and Peter looked up at him. Peter had an idea as to what his father was going to try, and began removing his chi strength. Caine rested a hand upon his shoulders as Dick and Bruce looked at them both questioningly. Peter remained where he was.

Bruce nodded at the unslpoken question in Dick’s eyes. He trusted Caine to save and heal him. As Bruce moved away, Caine knelt beside his son, feeling all the tension and worry he had for the safety of his friend.

**** **** ****

While Caine and the others were busy tending to Dick’s wound, Kermit, Ray and Fraser led the children up the staircase to the ground floor. Even though they were concerned about the young man who’d bought them the chance to escape with the kids, they focused their full attention on the safety of their young charges.

"What’s taking them so long?" Ray asked. Anything that involved Peter Caine and his father made him nervous. "The kid wasn’t hit that bad, so they should be coming out soon. Right, Benton?"

As he listened to Ray, a cold and strong feeling of dread came over him. A worried look crossed his usually boyish features

** ** **

As Caine and Peter gently carried Dick up the stairs and out of the building, Bruce contacted the Batcave and told Alfred to bring one of the larger limos without telling him why he needed it. Caine then heard him tell the butler to bring an emergency surgical kit with him as well.

As he kept talking with Alfred, Bruce paced the area while Peter remained with Dick. Stopping near Caine, he activated the remote control that sent the Batmobile back to the cave on automatic control. He turned to face him when he had finished talking to Alfred.

"Someone’s going to have to go with him," Bruce said as Peter used his developing Shaolin skills to relieve Dick’s pain. He was also unaware that the younger Caine knew who they were undere the masks. "We need to remove the bullet, but we can't take him to a hospital without the risk of his identity being compromised.

Caine watched his son as he helped his friend and knew that he had to do something, if only to give Peter some peace of mind.

"I can help," he said finally. Everyone turned to look at him. "I can. . . remove the bullet if you have the right surgical instruments."

awkward explaining a man in a mask and an anatomically correct rubber suit to hospital officials, especially one with a gunshot wound in his shoulder. He sure as hell had no desire to explain why Dick Grayson would have one in the exact same place as Robin.

"Sir?" Alfred asked. He had just arrived in time to hear the offer Caine made and watched as the emotions battled within his employer’s blue-green eyes. He knew what was going on inside Bruce’s head even if Bruce himself had no idea as to what he felt or thought.

Bruce nodded and watched as Alfred handed Caine the surgical kit. Returning to where Dick was lying, he knelt beside Peter, who tried to move away from Dick in order to give his father more room to work in. Putting his hand on Peter’s arm, Caine signalled that he was to remain where he was and then went to work on Dick Grayson’s shoulder.

Bruce and the others looked on as Caine worked almost silently, the children all but forgotten in the desperate need to see to the safety of their fallen comrade.

**** **** ****

Several hours later, after the children of Chinatown had been returned to their parents and the others had returned to the hotel, Caine, Peter and Bruce gathered around Dick Grayson’s bed at Wayne Manor.

Peter had wanted to make sure that his new friend was going to make a full recovery. He stood next to the foot of the bed, aloof and distant from the others. Dick noticed his behaviour and had other ideas about letting it slide. Beside, he was dying to know just how much Peter knew in regards to his and Bruce’s secret identities.

"Peter, could you stay for a few minutes? I need to talk to you," he asked as the crowd began to dwindle away.

As he left with Caine, Bruce shot Dick a curious look and then saw Peter nod his head in answer to Dick’s question. Realising that he wasn’t going to get an answer from his young partner, Bruce followed Caine and Alfred out of the room, closing the door behind him.

** ** **

Watching the door close behind Bruce, both Peter and Dick sighed and relaxed, the tension vanishing from their handsome features. He gestured with his left arm for Peter to sit on the edge of the bed beside him.

"I wanted to talk to you without the others around to listen." Dick sat up in bed, a movement made all the more awkward due to his injured arm. Peter reached out to help him and Dick willingly accepted the gesture. "Since you know who I am, then you no doubt know who Batman is."

Peter nodded, unsure as to what he should say and do with the knowledge he possessed. Even in Sloanville, he had heard about the mysterious masked protectors of Gotham City. Little did he dream that he would ever be working with them, let alone knowing their real identities.

"All I ask is that you keep the knowledge of who we really are to yourself," Dick said somewhat grimly. "If that information fell into the wrong hands, it could do an untold amount of harm."

Peter saw a cloud cross Dick Grayson’s blue eyes. He was unaware that the young man was remembering when the Riddler and Two-Face discovered who Bruce was and used that knowledge to try and kill him.

"It’s strictly between you and me," he finally said, understanding and accepting the enormous amount of trust Dick was placing in him and his ability to keep a secret. He hesitated before speaking the words he wanted to say to his friend. "You know where to get hold of me should you need me for any reason."

**** **** ****

Caine and Bruce watched as Peter and Dick stood nearby talking.

"Do you think he knows?" Bruce finally asked Caine, his blue-green eyes coming to rest on the two young men standing nearby. He envied their easy camaraderie and had noticed that Dick seemed more at ease than he had been before. At least he’d let go of the pain he’d been carrying since his family’s death. Some good had come out of Caine’s visit.

"If he does, he will keep your secret," Caine said as Captain Simms and the rest of their party boarded the plane. It would soon be their time to go. As Caine bowed to Bruce, Peter and Dick joined them.

"Time to go, Pop," Peter said, picking up his onboard flight bag and hooking it on his shoulder.

Dick moved to stand beside Bruce as he bowed in return to Caine, who then boarded the plane with Peter. Despite the sling holding his right arm in place, Dick waved his farewell to Peter, who returned it with a small grin.