All that glitters

[_nightwing_]

Sirens cut through the Blüdhaven night, pulling Nightwing from his vision with a jarring sensation

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[jla_futures]

The glittering, multi-faceted ball remains in place, turning slowly. As it does so, another flash of light reflects off one of its many facets, and before he can look away, he's drawn in once more ...

[oracle_watching]

"Honey, come on!" Babs says coaxingly. "Your dad and I just want to take some pictures before he shows up."

[mary_grayson]

The Manor likely hasn't witnessed a scene like this in living memory. Mary Grayson remains stubbornly in the en suite bathroom of her - formerly Uncle Jason's - room. "I'm not ready!" the teenager protests, dropping her makeup bag on the floor.

And she's also nervous as all get out.

[oracle_watching]

"I'm sure you look beautiful, Peanut. If you don't, I promise to fix whatever's wrong before he gets here. Okay?"

[oracle_watching]

"You look beautiful, Mary," her mother says reassuringly. She flicks a sharp look at Dick and Bruce. "Don't you think she looks beautiful, gentlemen?"

[gothamflatfoot]

"How could she not be beautiful? She's related to her mother."

Jim Gordon emerges, a cup of coffee in hand, looking every inch relaxed and slightly amused.

[anotherknight]

His gaze travels to Barbara and then to Selina for a brief moment before returning to Mary. The vultures are waiting in the rafters to pick his corpse because he knows his life is over if he doesn't speak up.

"You look beautiful, Mary," he echoes.

[mary_grayson]

She knows what it takes to bring something like that from the older man. Some of it's peer pressure, she could say, but he's not a man given to following the crowd. Not a man given to compliments of any sort, even while she trained the way her father and mother did before her.

Impulsively-- and it may surprise him-- she slips off her heels for a moment and pads down the stairs to wrap her arms around him in a hug. He'll get it if he wants it or not.

"Thanks," she whispers.

[jla_extras]

He checks the bow-tie for the third time and absently inspects the flowers. "You're gunna do fine. No problem. No worries. Just concentrate on Mary. Same Mary you see every day. Just Mary. You're gunna do fine."

The eighteen year old stops mid-mantra and flops his head forward, forehead to front door.

"I am so screwed."

[_alfred_]

The door opens, and he is treated to the sight of an English butler, comporting himself with great dignity despite his advancing years. "Welcome to Wayne Manor," he says, only a slight wheeze audible on the Ws.

[jla_extras]

His head snaps up. A better impression of a deer caught in the headlights there never was.

Come on, Maxwell. Don't stand on the front porch and make a fool out of yourself. Tongue. Words. Open the mouth.

"Thank you, sir," he finally manages. "I hope I'm not late."

[_alfred_]

"You come most carefully upon your hour," he intones, opening the door wide and giving a shallow nod of his head. "Miss Mary will be grateful to see you."

[anotherknight]

That chat will have to come much later. Much later.

"You needn't worry about transportation. Alfred will drive us."

[mary_grayson]

"What?" This is clearly news to her.

[jla_extras]

"Us?"

[anotherknight]

His expression takes a turn for the serious. "I do own the school, Isaac. Don't you think I should be there to protect my interest?"

[_nightwing_]

...and just like that, the dream - vision? - keeping his gaze held to the spinning ball is shattered, this time by the shouting of someone down below.

This time, he turns away from the object. He doesn't want to see anymore - as pleasant as that was, what came before remains strong. Stronger, perhaps.

[jla_futures]

With that, the four notes that preceded its arrival chime softly once again, and the faceted ball disappears into the darkness.

[_nightwing_]

It's a moment or two before he allows himself to think it's truly gone. He pauses on the rooftop, trying to process it. Rain begins to spot down around him. And then Barbara's request for him to come home - and fast - surfaces once more. That instantly overrides his need to stay here and think about it alone. How long has he even been out here, staring at that thing?

He's not sure he wants to know. Company sounds good right about now, though.

With a flick of his wrist, the grapple line snakes outward, seeking a new target. Another second to regain his bearings, and Nightwing resumes his journey homeward.