Thanks go out to Noel, Kim and Tammy for beta'ing this story. Hope you all
enjoy. Charlene
A Different Game: Part 1a:
A pounding sound resonated through the apartment on Parkthorne Avenue in Bludhaven. The sound caused Dick Grayson to stir in his bed. Groggily, he sat up and stared at his alarm clock which read noon. Who would be pounding on his door at noon on a Saturday? Didn't people appreciate sleep? Dick grabbed a pair of jeans and hopped into them as he made his way from his bedroom to his front door.
Dick eyed Tim Drake as he walked past the empty pizza boxes and video tapes littering the floor from the previous night. Dick had managed to spring Tim from Brentwood for the weekend. They were having quality time -- Bat style -- stopping a little crime and chilling with food and movies afterwards. Tim was just sitting up on the sofa as Dick walked past him, his hands rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Dick smiled at his "younger brother" as he headed toward the door.
"Morning," Tim grumbled.
"Afternoon," Dick replied with a chuckle as he opened the door. His face didn't betray his confusion when he saw three uniformed Bludhaven Police Officers and two plain clothed men Dick assumed were detectives. His stomach knotted, had something happened to his partner?
"Richard Grayson?"
"Yes?"
"Bludhaven police," one of the plain clothed detectives said as he showed Dick his badge.
"So am I," Dick replied. "What's this about?"
"This is Detective Jacobs, GCPD. We have a search warrant for your apartment."
"For what? Let me see," Dick said taking the warrant from the first detective as the two detectives and BPD officers pushed past him into the apartment. Tim sat on the sofa, one leg up under him, dressed only in a T- shirt and a pair of shorts. Jacobs ordered Dick to sit beside Tim.
"What's going on?" Tim whispered to Dick.
"I don't know," Dick said as he watched the officers searching through his belongings, through his home.
"Why's a Gotham cop with them?"
"I. Don't. Know," Dick almost growled out. This had not been his ideal way to wake up on a Saturday. He looked back at the search warrant in his hands -- it was a general warrant -- didn't have any specifics of what they were looking for. And, more importantly why they were looking for it, whatever IT was they were looking for, in his apartment. The affidavit wasn't attached - just an order holding the affidavit under seal.
"Detective," a uniformed officer called from Dick's bedroom. Dick and Tim turned on the sofa and watched as the officer emerged with evidence bags filled with their clothes from the night before and approached Detective Jacobs. After a few words passed between the officers, words that Dick and Tim could not hear, the uniformed officer left the apartment with the evidence bag.
Dick stood, "What's this all about?"
"Why don't you two get dressed while we finish up out here." Detective Jacobs stretched his arm toward Dick's bedroom door. "Officer, why don't you stay in there with them."
"Now wait a damn minute," Dick said angrily.
"Get dressed, Grayson." Jacobs barked.
Glaring at Jacobs, Dick placed his hand on Tim's shoulder, gently moving the boy toward the bedroom. They walked past the officer who then turned and followed them into the room.
As he pulled a pair of jeans on, Tim whispered, "What do you think is going on Dick? What are they looking for? Why did they have our clothes in the evidence bag?"
"Tim, I really don't know. I wish I did. It doesn't make any sense to me. If they're looking into... you know... why take our clothes from last night?" Dick said as he pulled a clean Gotham Knights T-shirt on.
"You two, stop whispering," the officer said.
"Look," Dick began angrily, "we'll talk to each other when and how we want. This is still my apartment. You have a search warrant, search. Watch even. But leave us alone. You don't tell us what to do."
Dick and Tim walked out of the room when they had finished changing. The officer followed them shaking his head. Dick walked over to Detective Jacobs and in as calm a voice as he could muster asked, "Can you tell me what this is all about?"
"Mr. Grayson, Bruce Wayne was murdered last night," Jacobs coldly stated.
To be continued
A Different Game: Part 1a:
A pounding sound resonated through the apartment on Parkthorne Avenue in Bludhaven. The sound caused Dick Grayson to stir in his bed. Groggily, he sat up and stared at his alarm clock which read noon. Who would be pounding on his door at noon on a Saturday? Didn't people appreciate sleep? Dick grabbed a pair of jeans and hopped into them as he made his way from his bedroom to his front door.
Dick eyed Tim Drake as he walked past the empty pizza boxes and video tapes littering the floor from the previous night. Dick had managed to spring Tim from Brentwood for the weekend. They were having quality time -- Bat style -- stopping a little crime and chilling with food and movies afterwards. Tim was just sitting up on the sofa as Dick walked past him, his hands rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Dick smiled at his "younger brother" as he headed toward the door.
"Morning," Tim grumbled.
"Afternoon," Dick replied with a chuckle as he opened the door. His face didn't betray his confusion when he saw three uniformed Bludhaven Police Officers and two plain clothed men Dick assumed were detectives. His stomach knotted, had something happened to his partner?
"Richard Grayson?"
"Yes?"
"Bludhaven police," one of the plain clothed detectives said as he showed Dick his badge.
"So am I," Dick replied. "What's this about?"
"This is Detective Jacobs, GCPD. We have a search warrant for your apartment."
"For what? Let me see," Dick said taking the warrant from the first detective as the two detectives and BPD officers pushed past him into the apartment. Tim sat on the sofa, one leg up under him, dressed only in a T- shirt and a pair of shorts. Jacobs ordered Dick to sit beside Tim.
"What's going on?" Tim whispered to Dick.
"I don't know," Dick said as he watched the officers searching through his belongings, through his home.
"Why's a Gotham cop with them?"
"I. Don't. Know," Dick almost growled out. This had not been his ideal way to wake up on a Saturday. He looked back at the search warrant in his hands -- it was a general warrant -- didn't have any specifics of what they were looking for. And, more importantly why they were looking for it, whatever IT was they were looking for, in his apartment. The affidavit wasn't attached - just an order holding the affidavit under seal.
"Detective," a uniformed officer called from Dick's bedroom. Dick and Tim turned on the sofa and watched as the officer emerged with evidence bags filled with their clothes from the night before and approached Detective Jacobs. After a few words passed between the officers, words that Dick and Tim could not hear, the uniformed officer left the apartment with the evidence bag.
Dick stood, "What's this all about?"
"Why don't you two get dressed while we finish up out here." Detective Jacobs stretched his arm toward Dick's bedroom door. "Officer, why don't you stay in there with them."
"Now wait a damn minute," Dick said angrily.
"Get dressed, Grayson." Jacobs barked.
Glaring at Jacobs, Dick placed his hand on Tim's shoulder, gently moving the boy toward the bedroom. They walked past the officer who then turned and followed them into the room.
As he pulled a pair of jeans on, Tim whispered, "What do you think is going on Dick? What are they looking for? Why did they have our clothes in the evidence bag?"
"Tim, I really don't know. I wish I did. It doesn't make any sense to me. If they're looking into... you know... why take our clothes from last night?" Dick said as he pulled a clean Gotham Knights T-shirt on.
"You two, stop whispering," the officer said.
"Look," Dick began angrily, "we'll talk to each other when and how we want. This is still my apartment. You have a search warrant, search. Watch even. But leave us alone. You don't tell us what to do."
Dick and Tim walked out of the room when they had finished changing. The officer followed them shaking his head. Dick walked over to Detective Jacobs and in as calm a voice as he could muster asked, "Can you tell me what this is all about?"
"Mr. Grayson, Bruce Wayne was murdered last night," Jacobs coldly stated.
To be continued