Nightwing: Heartache

Part 48: Wayne Gala

February 8, 10:48pm
Wayne Manor

The party was already in the downswing when Willa got there. There were no photographers allowed and the only reporters were Lois and Clark from the Daily Planet. She didn't make a big fuss when she came in, she just slipped into the crowd and thanked people for their donations. She took some selfies and made small talk. She watched as the ultra-rich tried to hide their shock at her appearance and tried even harder to ask nosy questions about her love life without seeming like they were asking nosy questions.

She laughed and each and every one of them off, making vague denials or changing the subject. She turned at the press of a hand on her back. Dick smiled down at her, "hi."

"Hi," she smiled back.

"Glad you could make it," Dick said smoothly, "and thank you for your donation."

"Of course." She slipped away as Dick started chatting to the elderly couple Willa had been with before.

Lois Lane made a beeline for her from across the room, practically scooping Willa into her arms. "There's my girl. How are you?" Lois's belly was swollen.

"I'm good. Look at you!" Willa gestured to Lois's stomach. "Congratulations!"

Lois leaned in and dropped her voice, "it's twins."

"No!"

"It's all Superman's fault over here," Lois jerked her thumb at Clark, who held up his hands helplessly. Lois rolled her eyes but rubbed her stomach affectionately. "So how have you been? I saw you talking to Dick over there."

Willa looked in the direction of Lois's gaze and fought the flush of her face. "Oh. Yeah, well... he invited me."

"Uh-huh."

"We're happy for you kids," Clark slapped Willa on the back good naturedly. She flew forward a little bit, and Clark caught her by the arm. "Oops. Sorry."

Willa coughed, "it's fine."

"We better get going. Lois's feet are killing her," Clark rubbed his wife's back and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Have a good night, Willa. It really is great to see you." He gave her a brief hug.

"And I'll make sure to bury the article about this shindig in the back of the society pages," Lois added, "try to curb some attention from you and Dick."

"Thank you," Willa said earnestly.

Lois squeezed her hand before leaving.

"So how badly did you want to be Lois Lane growing up?"

Willa looked beside her to find Barbara Gordon, gorgeous as ever, in her wheelchair beside her. "I still kind of want to be Lois Lane," Willa joked.

Barbara laughed, "I completely understand. You look beautiful by the way."

Willa looked down at her simple black dress pants, heels, and black bodysuit. "Thank you, so do you." Barbara had on a sleek black full length dress off one shoulder. She wore her red hair up in a bun. Willa cleared her throat, "I... I heard about your accident. I'm so sorry."

Barbara waved her off, "it comes with the territory. The wheelchair sucks, but Joker is finally behind bars permanently, and I help even more people now as Oracle." Her eyes flashed, "but don't count me out of a fight just because I can't move my legs."

Willa smiled, "Barbara, I promise my money is still on you in any fight."

A smile slowly spread across Barbara's face. "You can call me Babs. All my friends do."

*

The party was practically over. Only a few people milled about, finishing their drinks or waiting for their turn to speak to Bruce Wayne. Willa branched off from the ballroom any way, wandering down a couple hallways. She could kill time until everyone was gone, and her social battery was just about out. Her feet hurt and she was tired of small talk.

She kicked her shoes off at the start of a new hallway, so someone looking for her could figure out where she'd gone.

She found a small study. More like a mini library, all four walls covered in bookshelves and expensive trinkets. A sturdy oak desk and plush chair, and a small loveseat by the window. It was a perfect room for reading. Willa could picture Dick and Tim in here growing up, curled up with a book or just staring out the window. She ran her hand over the spines of the books, reading some of the titles.

She stopped, struck by a thought. It couldn't possibly be this cliche... she thought. She remembered Dick explaining the Batcave. How it was built below the manor, unattached by several hundred feet, but connecting elevators got them down there. And to access said elevators, he had said the locks were triggered by a variety of mechanisms, one of which was a book. But it couldn't be...

She tipped the spine of Dracula and a soft click sounded behind the bookshelf.