Title: Catching A Falling Bird
Characters: Batman, Birds of Prey, supporting Bat-cast, etc
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1179
Continuity: Comic
Disclaimer: Belongs to DC / WB, and licensees
Notes: Warning this is an AU that breaks canon at the point just before Arrow's resurrection. Canary is not dating Midnite.
Part One
Part Two



Dinah Lance did not take advice to go shopping lightly. On the advice of Oracle, she had also used a temporary color to go red, while paying close attention to thoughts of who Batman would send to escort her into the upper echelon of Gotham. She found just the right dress, shoes, and handbag for a charity dinner, again prompted by Oracle on the setting of this foray.

Her doorbell rang at precisely six thirty, and she was ready for anything but the man at the door. Standing in her hallway, wearing a tux that was cut to show off the finest Gotham men had to offer, was Bruce Wayne, billionaire bachelor. She smiled at him, her eyes lit with recognition and warmth.

"Hello." She moved to one side, to let him enter.

"You must be Miss Drake." Oracle had positively been laughing herself to death over Dinah's chosen secret identity, complaining that it was no more secret than Oliver Queen's. Batman had just been thankful she had played off her own name, rather than the deceased archer.

"Laurel, please. And you are the infamous Bruce Wayne."

Bruce took a moment, savoring the vision in the doorway. He had seen perfection before, having been something of a connoisseur of women all his public life, but Dinah was in that jaw dropping range that defied even his jaded sensibilities to ignore it. A blue sapphire gown draped off one shoulder and falling in clinging curves around her form, set off the deep red of her hair. She had opted for heels tonight, but walked with such grace that their height seemed only to accent her already natural sensuality. A dark blue choker with a sapphire the size of his thumbnail matched the bracelet and earrings she wore. She lifted a matching stole and graciously accepted his quick offer to help wrap it over her shoulders. He noted that she had the lightest dressing possible on her bullet wound, under the draped side of the dress, and he could only see its imprint because he knew to look. She was doing a fair job of remembering to use her other arm more, as well, so no one was likely to notice the weakness in that arm.

"I do appreciate our mutual friend setting this up for us," he said. "I was lacking a date to tonight's event anyway." He gave her a coy grin, one that implied he just could not have gone alone.

"Our friend surprised me with this little blind date," she answered him, accepting the arm he offered her to leave on. "I may be called away, in fact, as I'm on call."

"Oh, he explained that," Bruce immediately said, hiding a smile at her smooth cover act for why she would abandon him. He took her downstairs to the waiting Bentley, appreciating the way she looked it over knowingly. Alfred glanced into the mirror, and stared a second longer than his dates usually received.

"It certainly will not be for lack of appreciation for the company I am in," Dinah said with a musical laugh. Bruce joined it, finding that he was enjoying this night already, in direct violation of his knowing this was a mission like any other.

They made quiet small talk on the drive, as Bruce dropped the normal society gossip expected of him. She did not seem to be out of her league, matching tidbit for tidbit, and he wondered how much was her knowledge, and how much Oracle was piping to her ear through the dazzling sapphire earrings.

On arrival, she was stared at nearly as much as he was, her picture taken repeatedly as she managed the role of a drape with unconscious ease. Bruce had to wonder where she had learned such refinement, as it did not fit his memory of the saucy woman in any setting he had ever known her in. It would be interesting to see how she carried off gathering the information she was seeking at the party, and he could only hope that she would not do anything that required him to make a quick change.

`~`~`~`~`

The night proved to be full of surprises from that point on. Bruce was at first sure that Oracle was behind Laurel's perfect recall of society facts and trivia, then less convinced as she greeted people by name with such sincerity that they were left wondering when they had met the stunning redhead. Then he noted the choker a little more closely as he leaned past her to speak to an associate and saw it was a very good camera rig, with the 'sapphire' actually a camera lens. He used a witty comment for excuse to laugh; Oracle took good care of this particular vigilante.

Laurel smiled a lot, and managed to look as vapid as most of his dates through the evening. Laurel had spotted her target, a prominent banker with ties back to Van Allen early on, but had done very little to let Bruce know it. That was why he flipped almost completely into Batman mode when she tensed against his arm, her gaze directed at the banker and another man talking. Bruce moved his eyes to the woman's face casually, to see she was bleach white almost.

"Excuse me, Bruce, I think I need the powder room." She smiled enchantingly at him, rising to go. He waited half a minute, made his own excuses to the others and headed to a secluded point where he could observe both the restrooms and the men in question.

"O," he said very low.

"I caught that. She's not speaking to me; she seems to be reacting poorly to whatever you two ate." Oracle sounded sympathetic. "I'm running a match on what the camera pulled."

Bruce studied the man closely, but could not pull out any reason he should have stood out enough to make the Canary react that way.

"Hmm. His name is Jeremy Tilkin, con man from forever ago. Been in and out of prison since he was thirteen until he…." Oracle trailed off.

"Until?" the man growled low.

"Until his last arrest was handled by Officer Lance in such a way as to be called 'bungled' and he evaded custody for the length of his statutes of limitations allowed." Oracle's voice was disbelieving.

"Known associates?" Bruce pressed, seeing his date heading back to their table.

"Linked to both men suspected in the Van Allen case," Oracle said softly.

"We've got our lead then." Bruce returned to the table then, making a show of relief. "That food sure never sticks with us." He smiled affably at the red head.

"Hmm, no…" She was distracted, her attention wandering from him. "Bruce, it's been good tonight, but I have to go; they paged me in the powder room."

"Oh." He stood up to walk her out, planning to exit at the same time. "Do be careful, Laurel." He kissed her as expected, on the cheek, and she smiled coyly for him and the press before she was gone.

`~`~`~`~`