2am Blackbird

by Grey Bard
Email: fitzrose at email.msn.com


Whoa, whoa, bad mental image! Her and she and they and.... Eww. I mean with her? I mean her?

Well, actually, on second though it's not that bad.... Not bad at all....

NO, I mean, she wasn't exactly on the side of the angels. I shouldn't be thinking like this. I mean, it must have been horrible for her to find out, that one isn't even human right? Right? This must have been traumatic....

"Terry, Terry!"

Hunh, wha....

"Will you close the file on Poison Ivy for a minute and look at me?" My boss is less than happy. Even for him. Hope he doesn't see which file I'm looking at, that'll make his mood so much better. Right.

"Sure thing." I say and reach for the right key. I might get out of this after all.

"Liaisons, Innappropriate?" he asks me, looking at the search parameters at the top of the screen. Doesn't anything slip past him? Stupid question.

"This is about Ten, isn't it?" Wayne says. Not that he doesn't know or anything.

I look at the picture of the world's most dangerous red-head, who has been on the loose and underground, vanished somewhere for the last thirty years or so and I try not to shiver. For any of the reasons going through my head right now. "Yeah, it was," I admit. "But I'm not sure anymore."

I thought that a stroll down memory lane looking through the past humiliations of the Bat-clan might be just the thing to help me get over my raging case of bad-girl syndrome. I mean, no offense to Dana, but she dumped me and the little time I spent with Ten was one hell of a wild ride. But this? I feel like an awed school kid looking in his big sister's diary and realising what a good boy he's been. Which I guess I am, sort of.

"It wasn't like that." he says, and I hear the strain. "Barbara's a good woman. She didn't know, to begin with."

"Yeah," I say, "I guessed that." Wait a minute. To begin with?

He looks away. "I think you should practice now." he says " I didn't like the way you dealt with those hover-cards."


"Hard day?" Commissioner Gordon sank into her chair and accepted the cup of organically grown, compassionately gathered tea gratefully.

"Wouldn't you know it, we had a visiting theme gang in town and Pointy-ears Junior felt the need to break the thing up all on his lonesome. Now how am I going to convince the men that they have to do their own detective work. Damn vigilantes. Even when they manage to do you a favor they turn things upside down."

"Mmmmm." her spouse smiled secretively. " Don't I know it. I'm not sure where I'd be if it weren't for a certain Miss Pointy- ears Junior."

"Probably in a green house in Africa, not working on behalf of the criminal justice system , complaining about the stupidity of your cover id, or the costume it requires." Barbara admitted wryly.

"And you make it all worthwhile, dear. I'll have another three hundred years or so to cause trouble looking any way I like after you go. What's an ugly male human-suit between lovers?"

"Don't go playing the martyr, Sam," Gordon chided. "I've seen how much you love going after polluters in court."

"It's a change of pace, I'll give you that." Ivy admitted. "But after you're gone, the Bat-brat is due a run for his money."

The policewoman's eyebrows shot up.

"Don't look at me like that. I'll never hurt any of them for your sake. But you do admit, he needs a little shaking up."

"You don't need a crime spree for that." the former Batgirl smiled. "Just send him your unexpurgated autobiography."



Grey Bard