Alfred let off of the gas entirely and allowed the car to coast along the road until it was barely moving at a jogger's pace, then kept it there for a few moments prior to a left turn onto a dirt road. When driving to remain unnoticed by anybody, using the brakes could compromise them in the event that someone was nearby. This was standard for whenever they were using a regular vehicle and entering the Batcave.

 

The car sped up slightly, Alfred knowledgeably keeping the automobile steady and along the road until it suddenly met a metal track, the wheels cozily fitting into the grooves laid out for them. The car continued along without further steering or gassing from the butler, coming to a stop when the front wheels hit a strategically placed block that indicated that it had centered on the platform.

 

Alfred reached up to his sun visor and pressed a button on his remote door controller. The button flashed.

 

The skyline suddenly dropped out of view when the platform dropped below a pair hydraulic powered steel doors that shut when the car dipped below the surface. The platform continued its rapid descent until it his the bottom of its functioning area with an impetuous halt. 

 

Ivy, rattled by the unfamiliar experience, gripped the roof handle with one hand and braced against the seat behind her with the other. Bruce gently took her hand off of the cushion, quietly assuring her that there would be no more bumps.

 

"Apologies, Mistress Ivy," Alfred intoned. "One of these days, we will have to get that fixed."

 

She cocked her head briefly at Bruce before removing her seatbelt. Alfred turned off the engine and unlocked the car, allowing Stephanie to exit the car and open Ivy's door for her. Bruce got out of the car himself, then looked back inside at Ivy. "Are you okay?"

 

She smiled lightly, nodding. She got out of the car and let Stephanie close the door for her.

 

Alfred shut his door and Bruce's door when the latter left the platform with Ivy. The four of them walked across a double-sided catwalk until their feet touched solid rock, where Bruce led Ivy along toward the large computer. Alfred and Stephanie went in a different direction. Bruce guessed Ivy had sent them to fetch something for her.

 

"So this is the Batcave, huh?" Ivy asked. She didn't have the same look of wonder that most newcomers to the Batcave had. Instead of admiring the false waterfalls along the rock faces, examining the trophies collected from Arkham patients in the room with a child's sense of exploration, or huddling down while searching the high ceiling for any sign of bats, Ivy just walked beside him with little regard for the wonders of man-made creations. "I thought it would be darker in here."

 

"What have you heard about it?" Bruce asked, curious.

 

"Not much," she admitted. "Just that Batman slept here."

 

"Alfred!" an exhausted voice called from ahead. "Is that you?"

 

Bruce stopped, immediately recognizing the speaker even though Ivy did not. He grabbed Ivy by the shoulders and twisted her towards him. He lifted her hand and pointed at the ring still on her finger, warning her to keep it on. She lowered her head deferentially; she would let him take the lead.

 

Preparing himself for an appearance- the lipstick on his face had long since faded- Bruce took her hand and pulled her behind him, guiding her out of the shadows and into the light in front of the Batcomputer. He wasn't there, but deeper into the cave where the metal platform sloped downward. Bruce had a guess as to where he was.

 

He found a soaked Nightwing sitting on an empty gurney with its backrest pushed up in the medical bay: a small section of the cave kept pristine in the event that someone entered with a treatable injury or had been given a toxin from the Joker or Scarecrow or something similar. Dick had his black and blue patterned shirt lifted up above his stomach, revealing a few drops of dried blood near his left hip. His pants and boots were gone, replaced by a regular pair of shorts and socks. He was picking at a scrape on his thigh with a sterile probe. His mask was still on.

 

"Bruce!" Dick exclaimed, sitting up straight. "You're back. I thought you said you'd-"

 

He trailed off as he noticed the red-headed woman walking behind Bruce. Nightwing tensed, gripping the probe and putting one leg on the ground. "What's she doing here?" he demanded, accusatory.

 

From Dick's new position, Bruce could see that he hadn't been picking at a scrape; the wound on his leg was a bullet hole in the back of his thigh. Bruce knew that penetrations in those areas were dangerous; even if there wasn't that much blood, the tiniest bit of shrapnel could hit a fascial compartment and cause permanent nerve damage.

 

Act like you normally would around him, Ivy said. She stepped out from behind him fully, exposing herself.

 

"I trust her," Bruce said simply, using an edge in his voice that he had lost weeks ago. "What happened?"

 

"Ran into some trouble by the docks," Dick replied, still eyeing the newcomer to the Batcave. "You're Pamela Winters, right?"

 

I'm calling Stephanie and Alfred back here. Be ready to act. "I am. Have we met?"

 

"No, but I've heard about you," Dick said vaguely. "You've been sleeping with Tim, haven't you?"

 

Pamela feigned a wince, acting like she was unaccustomed to bluntness like that. They're almost here.

 

Bruce nodded subtly, then strode toward his former sidekick. "Did you take the bullet out?" he questioned.

 

"Does it look like I've taken the bullet out?" Dick retorted. "Why is she here?"

 

"Quiet," Bruce snapped. He needed to keep Dick focused on him and not her. "Take that mask off."

 

Thankfully, Dick followed his instruction with only a mutter in protest. He removed the black eye mask and set it down on the gurney. That was a relief; if Dick had decided to question "Ms. Winters" with his detective vision, he might have noticed that she did not have a blood pressure and realized who she was.

 

The wound to his leg looked bad. The bullet was still in there and had gone pretty deep into the skin. The thigh itself looked pale if one disregarded the dried red that was on top of it. If the quadriceps tendon had been nicked, Dick wouldn't be walking correctly for at least a month, and that was even if the muscle was repaired without causing further damage.

 

"Anything else you want to tell me?" Nightwing asked curtly.

 

"Keep still." Bruce took ahold of his knee and bent it so he could better see the wound. His other hand was held out palm up until Dick pressed the probe into it. With the surgical instrument, Bruce lightly pulled back the skin's creases around the hole, exposing the wound to the light. "I thought I told you to leave Penguin to Stephanie."

 

"I was bored," he complained. "Where's Tim?"

 

"He'll be back soon," Pamela answered quietly, still keeping up the act. 

 

Bruce looked over his shoulder at her. A pink haze was emanating from her, flowing across the Batcave. Bruce quickly shook his head at her. Dick likely wouldn't be able to tell that he was being manipulated with pheromones, but the Batcave had alarms specifically to warn against any biological agents in the air. Even in Dick's wounded state, he didn't want to take any chances.

 

The pink haze didn't stop. Either she hadn't understood his message or she didn't believe that she could fail. Bruce needed to improvise.

 

"I'm starting a blood transfusion," he announced, setting down the probe onto the sheets beside Dick's foot and walking over to the Batcomputer. "Pamela?" He gestured for her to join him.

 

Still quiet enough to impress even him in his years of experience in stealth, she drifted over to him back up the platform. Next to the Batcomputer, Bruce made sure that Dick was still over on the gurney with a quick glance back before whispering to Ivy.

 

"I'm turning off the alarms and filters for the Batcave. Just wait a few minutes until they shut down before you use your pheromones." He pulled up the command keyboard to the left of the giant screen, working the Batcave and Wayne Manor security systems at the same time. He turned on the sonic frequency that attracted the bats to the ceiling so that none of them went near the filtration vents in their inactivity, then forced all air purification monitors to collapse, foregoing the warning label that came with it.

 

"Can you get the blood packs marked AB negative from the dispenser?" Bruce hoped that, as a scientist, she would understand how to operate the machine that stored emergency blood supplies.

 

She looked at him quizzically. Where? He tilted his head to the side and raised his brows. She turned around to find a smaller keyboard for non-system functions. She approached the operator's access point, hesitantly touching the console. It activated, asking for a login.

 

"Type in Carthaginia-"

 

 

Stephanie, no longer dressed as a lawyer and instead wearing her batsuit, stepped out of the shadows as if she had acted (and she probably had) on cue. Alfred then passed by without a word, unbuttoning and rolling down his sleeves as he did so.

 

The air filters fully turned off by the time all four of them were back over in the medical bay. Alfred was in the process of preparing a sedative for Dick when Ivy spoke to Bruce. Don't put him under. I want him awake. Despite the total lack of any visual clues, Bruce was sure that she only wanted him to be awake for her own leisure rather than a real purpose.

 

Regardless, he motioned to catch Alfred's hand lightly. Alfred had received the same command, so this was just for Dick's benefit. "No, Alfred," Bruce said. "I need him awake."

 

"But, sir," Alfred cried, a bit over-exaggerated.

 

"It's fine, Alfred," Dick decided, resigned to Bruce's "will." He eyed Bruce with a semi-glare; not conveying real hatred or anger, but there was definitely frustration between them. "The bullet didn't shatter. I checked with the X-day."

 

Alfred sighed, letting his shoulders drop in a much more convincing manner. "Very well. Miss Brown, would you please bring forth the blood supply." He equipped a surgical mask and went to the storage container featuring all of the surgical tools that he personally kept scrubbed. He set up a tray to carry over several instruments revealed to be two pairs of forceps of different sizes, a pair of dressing scissors, several tissue sutures, a magnifying glass, and a tourniquet.

 

Dick winced at the sight of them. "You sure I can't do this while I'm asleep?" he asked hopefully.

 

No. 

 

"No." 

 

Stephanie deposited two blood packs onto the gurney's pan, then forcefully pushed Dick against the backrest and lowered it for him so that his body was wholly lying down. He groaned at the rough treatment, but Bruce knew he expected it.

 

Alfred's tray made its way into Bruce's hands as the butler went to go grab gloves. "What was Cobblepot doing?" he asked.

 

"Oz was trying to build a security business," Dick began. "The precinct attack's made everyone with money scared. Anyone who wanted a persona, quick response to a break-in or something else would go to him. I found some of his notes in his office; he was looking to grow the business to other places."

 

"That's not illegal, Dick," Bruce pointed out.

 

"I also found some instructions left for one his guys to blow up the courthouse with you in it," Nightwing added quietly.

 

Bruce grunted. The Wayne family and the Cobblepot family had had a long rivalry dating back to the beginnings of Gotham City with lots of cases of killings and extortions, though neither side had ever been charged with the murder of one another. Cobblepot hadn't yet tried to have Bruce Wayne killed before, but he must have sensed the opportunity with him being widely unpopular in the city. The prison population of Blackgate prison suddenly disappearing along with Bruce would only make him bolder.

 

"We'll have to take down his business later. Where else did he-"

 

"Actually, Bruce," he cut off, "the police have already found him. Penguin's men shot up the building; the cops won't have to look too hard to find evidence of a crime. I bet the firm will fold before I get back to walking again." He looked at Alfred, who had just returned to the gurney. "Right?"

 

"Quite possibly," the older man said. "Would you like a local anesthetic or shall we just begin?"

 

Dick gave Bruce a pointed look. He shrugged in return "Whatever you want. I still need you to tell me what happened."

 

"I'll take a painkiller later," Dick said slowly. "Penguin's guys just got lucky, I swear."

 

"Lucky?" Bruce asked. "How?"

 

"They just got a lucky shot." Dick looked away sullenly. "You were right; I never should have gone."

 

"Dick..." Bruce knew he was hiding something.

 

"Master Bruce, would you please not block the light?" Alfred requested.

 

"What else did you find?" Bruce demanded, not budging from his spot.

 

Nightwing didn't answer. He just shut his eyes in anticipation of the operation. Alfred gently put the back of his hand on Bruce's shoulder and pushed him a foot to the right. Bruce grimaced, but gave up. He took a step back, giving Alfred some space. Stephanie stuck a clamped needle into the vein near Dick's bicep, making him grit his teeth just as a pink haze wafted into his face.

 

You can ask him later, Ivy said. After he's mine. Just keep him distracted.

 

Bruce gave a slight smile back in her direction, then dropped it and rounded the gurney to take the blood bag from Stephanie. He let the air out of the drip chamber, then attached the tube to it. She removed the clamp and held up the bag. Bruce then took Nightwing's belt from beside his elbow and placed it gently on the floor.

 

Pamela stepped forward, pretending to be curious. She stopped alongside Bruce, giving him another order in the process. He nodded, moving around to standing behind the patient's head. Stephanie handed the blood bag to Ivy to hold directly above the gurney before she moved to stand by Nightwing's feet.

 

Ivy's lips were red with fresh lipstick.

 

Bruce could see Nightwing heavily inhale the pink haze- almost hyperventilating over it- as Alfred closed in on the wound. The blood loss he had suffered would also assist the pheromones in knocking his senses awry. By breathing it in, he seemed to calm a little bit.

 

"Hey," Bruce said, calling him into focus once more. "Are you ready?"

 

"Mm-hmm," he affirmed, not bothering to open his eyes.

 

Restrain him! Ivy leapt forward. She landed in a straddling position atop the patient's torso, curling up like a leopard about to strike as Alfred stepped away from the medical bay entirely. Bruce took a hold of both of Dick's wrist at the same time that Stephanie pinned both of his ankles. Dick's eyes popped open and- just for a moment- he appeared not to struggle or at all be concerned. Only when Ivy sprang toward his face with hers did he finally come out of his stupor and appear shocked.

 

Ivy firmly pressed her soft lips to the center of his, holding his head steady with one hand. He flailed against his captors, kicking out as Ivy passionately kissed her prey. Nightwing tried to yell as her tongue wrested control of his mouth from him and made it all the better. Bruce and Stephanie kept him from being able to grab her while his injury prevented him from being able to wrestle her off.