One Night




If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, Grant Donovan doubted that he'd believe it. It was so bizarre and incredible an idea that he still had trouble convincing himself. Was it a trick of the light? A visual hallucination brought on by too much stress on the job?

But he'd seen it quite clearly, too clearly to mistake it. It was already late into the night and the dark, lonely streets of Bludhaven was no place to be at that hour of the night. Only the very foolish and the foolhardy braved the streets. Grant believed that he was neither. He had just finished his case notes at the hospital and was only trudging back to the apartment building where he lived. His pockets were empty as always, he looked haggard and tired and he seriously doubted muggers would even bother with him.

The move to Bludhaven certainly hadn't been his idea. His mentor back in Gotham, Dr Leslie Thompkins certainly had more than a hand in that decision. In fact it was Leslie who had suggested the place and had even found the apartment for him, saying that it belonged to someone she knew.

There wasn't a single sign of life on his street as he'd come in view of his apartment building. Nothing except for several sewer rats scurrying away their loot as he'd walked down the alley. But as the clock had struck two, something - perhaps a feeling had made him look up into the sky and he'd seen a flash of midnight black and robin's blue streak past the rooftops of his apartment building.

It was a man, no doubt about it. The smooth, well-coordinated musculature and athletic strength was evident as the man somersaulted and swung from roof to roof with seeming ease. He'd seen with his own eyes something he'd almost dismissed as plain rumor and gossip. And he'd also seen the window that the man had entered. The very window just one floor above his own.

Like everyone else in town, he'd heard of the urban legend before. Tales of a dark knight haunting the streets of Bludhaven, meting out his own brand of justice. Everyone had a different version of a sighting, some made him a dark, mystery man out of a detective novel, others painted him as a terrifying monster with eyes of a demon while other dismissed him as just another spandex suit. But no one could deny that Nightwing had succeeded in part in bringing some measure of law and order in the streets of Bludhaven. Granted the place was far from safe - an understatement if any there was - but at least it was a start.

After the man had entered into the upper floor window, Grant had stood there transfixed for several moments. The brief moment had replayed itself in his head again and again unitl he was perfectly convinced of what he'd just seen. And yet, it took him some time to assimilate the fact and still more to realize that the apartment above his belonged to Grayson.

As he shut the door to his apartment building, Grant looked up and wondered. Dick Grayson lived just above his apartment. When he'd moved to Bludhaven nearly eight months ago, the man had been one of the first to offer a friendly smile and Grant was glad for that. Dick was always ready for a chat and at the least a friendly wave. In the beginning, Grant was a tad reserved for he knew that nothing could come from this and Dick was certainly the kind of man who could wreak havoc with his heart. But slowly the man won him over for who could resist that charming grin of his, Grant wondered to himself.

In their spare time, they'd played ball together and had even gone for several games where Grant had smiled as Dick had hollered and cheered on his favourite team, the Gotham Knights. They'd shared beer down at Hogan's where he worked part-time and had talked about everything and nothing in particular. And truth to be told, Grant admitted that he had even started looking forward to their evenings together where they would talk over mouthwatering pizza and cool beer; sharing their thoughts on several issues; Grant complaining about the hospital administration while Dick had griped about the corrupted police precinct that he'd recently joined. The man was smart, funny, could make even the dullest anecdote amusing and was quite the closest friend he'd ever had.

But that didn't explain the thrill that went up his spine when Dick flashed a dazzling smile at him. Hadn't explained the reason that Grayson's deep blue eyes had started to haunt his dreams at night. Although there was no doubt that Dick Grayson was just the type of man made to be the stuff of fantasies. A lustrous mane of raven black hair, deep blue eyes with the most sinful lashes and a firm, well sculptured mouth made for soft words and warm kisses.

A flush burnt his cheeks and he shook his head. Obsessing over Dick's lips weren't helping any. As he walked up the stairs, Grant thought of immediately confronting Dick but changed his mind and returned to his own apartment instead. It was obvious that Nightwing wouldn't like his idenity to be known.

Still he found it difficult to reconcile the idea of Dick Grayson and Nightwing being one and the same. The idea that the laidback, humorous man who played ball with the kids on their street, the man who could charm and befuddle old, cranky Mrs Kingsley opposite the hall, could be the reputedly vicious, methodical vigilante who was trying to singlehandedly clean up Bludhaven. A case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, perhaps. He started to question whether he knew the real Mr Dick Grayson at all.

But then again, it made sense in some uncanny manner as there were some striking similarities. Dick certainly had the build to carry of the role of a vigilante. Grant smiled to himself, he'd certainly know since he had admired the man's physique often enough to know. Broad-shouldered, well-built and narrow-hipped, he had the body of an athlete. There was also the blue of his costume which reflected the exact colour of his eyes. It was something minor and quite trivial but he thought that it must have meant something.

The role of Nightwing definitely explained some things about Dick that had nagged at him for some time. The way he had of suddenly mysteriously disappearing whenever trouble arose. The last time had been while he was on a run with Dick when they'd seen smoke rising from the end of the block. While sprinting to offer assistance, Grant had suddenly turned back and realized that the man had disappeared.

Now, he knew the truth of how Nightwing had managed to be first at the scene. In the melee of attending to the victims, Grant hadn't managed to even catch a glimpse of the elusive hero although he had managed to overhear several firefighters raving about the man's bravery. Later on as everything had cleared, Dick had reappeared explaining him that he'd gone to call the authorities. Then Grant had noticed the slightly singed hair, the slightest mark of soot at the edge of his ear and he had wondered about it but as busy as he was, he'd dismissed it.

There was also the fact that Dick regularly left the apartment at particular hours of the night. Grant had often wondered whether it was his job at Hogan's but the times when he'd dropped by the bar, Dick wasn't there at all. It had puzzled him for some time but he'd disregarded it. After all, a man with his looks and charm could certainly find a number of things to do in the night. But that didn't account for some of the bruises and cuts that he somehow miraculously acquired while out in the night.

Come to think about it Dick had moved to Bludhaven just about the time sightings of Nightwing had begun.

Did he feel betrayed? That the man that he thought was his best friend had kept such a big secret from him. Surprisingly, Grant found that he understood Dick's need for secrecy. He could just imagine what would happen if the information fell into the wrong hands. If the corrupt police force found out, if Blockbuster found out. No, it was better this way.

For a moment, he wondered if the rest of the residents in the building had guessed. He seriously doubted it as he didn't think anyone paid that much attention to Dick's going-ons - other than him, that is. The pretty building superintendent, Bridget Clancy would certainly have kept an eye on Dick but she was certainly too busy with her coming entry into med school to notice. And with the medical books that she'd borrowed from him, she was certain to be kept that way. Amygdala down in the basement might have seen something but Grant seriously doubted the innocent man would think anything of it. The crusty old-timer, John Law, certainly wouldn't be bothered with anything that didn't concern him.

He opened the door to his apartment and flipped on the light. The first thing that caught his eye was the plain black picture frame on his hall table. It was a picture he'd taken of Dick when they'd gone out for a dinner to celebrate his graduation. Dressed up in a coat and tie, the man looked as if he'd stepped off the pages of GQ. Dick had laughed and said that the photo would scare off any and all intruders but Grant had just smiled.

Running his fingers gently down the photo, he smiled in rememberance wondering whether Dick even realized his attraction. Although Grant knew that it would come to nothing since he seriously doubted that the man would return his ... feelings, whatever they were. The man was obviously totally straight if judging by the women that had come by his apartment. There was no doubt that Clancy was madly in lust with him and that was after a couple of aborted dates - which had Clancy coming over to his apartment to complain and gripe over rocky road and mocha ice-cream. If she only knew that Grant was sitting there all the while seething with jealousy while she'd ranted about Dick's behaviour.

Not to mention the phone calls. From his numerous friends. Babs. Donna. Each time the phone rang and Dick answered only to charm and flirt with the caller, Grant would feel a pang.

The jealousy he had felt then had been nothing compared to the feelings he'd felt when he'd seen the statuesque redhead stroll coquettishly into Dick's apartment one day. Who could have mistaken that marvellously luminous golden skin, that voluptuous figure, that wealth of fiery red hair. Kory Anders. There were interns in the hospital who fell to their knees just at the sound of the supermodel's name.

Though he tried, Grant couldn't help the sensual images that had come to his mind when he'd heard loud thumps coming from the apartment above. He was only glad to have seen her leaving just as abruptly as she had come one day. Just as he was thinking of the delightful accidents that could have happened to Kory recently, there was a knock on the door that startled him. "Grant!"

The deep, masculine voice caused his hands to shake. It was Dick. Just the sound of the man's voice put his thoughts into a turmoil as he wondered what to say, what to do about the information he'd inadvertently received. He'd needed more time to think about it. Putting on a reasonably calm expression, he swung open the door and greeted his neighbour. "Hey! Grayson."

The time that had passed since he'd seen Nightwing swing into the apartment had obviously been put to good use. Hair still slightly damp from the shower, smelling of an intriguing combination of clean soap and that fascinatingly male scent of his and flashing that warm smile, Dick Grayson was certainly a sight for sore eyes at two in the morning. The tight, well-worn 501s that he wore and that grungy Gotham Knights T-shirt that he loved would have looked good on any other man. On him, they were sinful.

The thought that the man could possibly have just returned from bashing in the heads of crooks unnerved him. Since he still didn't know how to react to that, Grant hoped that the man didn't intend to stay for long. "Certainly a late hour to come by," he commented in a suitably breezy tone.

"Grant, can I come in?" The unusually serious tone and that inscrutable look in Dick's eyes gave him pause. Had the man seen him standing on the street? Thoughts of slamming the door and hiding in the closet did occur to him but he figured that a man like Nightwing would have no difficulty bashing his way through.

"Sure, what's up man? How are things?" Grant winced a little. Even to him, the false cheer sounded just like that. False.

Dick's lips curved a little. "Nervous about something, Donovan?"

The man looked far too pleased about something. For a moment, Grant wondered just how far Nightwing would go to keep his identity a secret. The powerful, muscular arms that he'd enjoyed admiring could easily snap a man's neck in two. Running his hands gingerly over his own neck, Grant smiled in return. "Nope, what makes you say that?"

Folding his arms, Dick tilted his head to look at him. "You're blocking the door for one thing." There was also the fact that Grant made a terrible liar but Dick didn't feel like telling him that yet.

Chuckling weakly, Grant stood aside and waved him in. "You kidder, you."

The sound of Dick closing the door sent a chill down his spine. Nightwing was supposed to be a hero, wasn't he? But what if the rumours were wrong and Nightwing was indeed some kinda insane killer. After all, how much did anyone know of Nightwing? Could he be a Bludhaven serial killer? Had he been mistaken? Perhaps it wasn't Nightwing! Perhaps it was..

"Grant." The friendly hand on his shoulder caused him to jump almost a mile and he turned to Dick with a shaky smile. For a brief moment, Dick's handsome features suddenly took on a sinister, predatory cast and his heart skipped a beat.

"Yeah?" Taking a step back, Grant gestured towards the fridge. "Hey, you want a beer?" It would be better - and a little safer - to stay several feet away from the man. They were about the same size with Dick probably an inch or two taller and Grant had an athletic build that was the result of regular visits to the gym at but he didn't dare risk a confrontation. There was no doubt that a crimefighter like Nightwing would know some moves that would put his amateur martial art skills to shame.

Standing where he was, Dick watched quietly as the doc hurried towards the fridge to retrieve the beer. A quick smile crossed his features. It was nice to see the unflappable doctor sweat for once. "Surprised to see you still up at this hour. Thought everyone would be fast asleep."

Digging in the fridge, he brought two cans out and tossed one towards Dick who snatched it out of the air effortlessly. The ease in which he did it didn't surprise him as much as it used to. "Well, there was a last-minute thing. And tomorrow is my off day anyway." Talk about his work and a quick sip of the beer calmed him down a bit. It was stupid to dwell on the fact that Nightwing could be a villain. He'd seen himself at the fire what the man had done. Then again, perhaps Dick hadn't seen him standing down at the street and this was just a normal visit. Although the man had never paid a visit this late into the night.

"We need to talk."

The finality of that statement rang clearly in the air. Slowly, Grant put down his beer on the kitchen counter and looked back at Dick. The man stood close to the window, facing him while the breeze played with his black hair, tossing it about. He looked heartbreakingly handsome, so gentle and earnest that Grant found it hard to believe that such a man could - if the rumours were to be believed - had taken the notorious Blackgate Prison all by himself. "What about?"

The nervousness earlier had faded away, Dick noticed. "I think you should already know."

The questions were all ready to fall out of his tongue, it seemed. But he found that he couldn't quite put it into words. "No, I don't, Dick. What do you mean?"

Casually leaning a hip onto the window sill, Dick turned and flashed him a grin. That tone of voice was just what he imagined the good doctor would use on his agitated patients. "Anything in particular you want to know?"

It was obvious that the man intended to play with him. Two could play at the game. "Anything in particular you want to tell me, Mr Grayson?"

Dick's smile grew wider. "Well, ask me and I shall answer."

"Perhaps I don't want to know the answer," Grant admitted quietly.

Leaving his perch at the window, Dick moved slowly forward to stand in front of him. When Grant didn't make a move to escape, he smiled. "There are very few people in this world whom I fully trust. I trust you, Dr. Grant Sebastian Donovan."

For a moment, Grant found himself with nothing to say. "I-uhh.."

"Cat got your tongue, Grant?" Dick teased him, his blue eyes twinkling as he playfully pushed forward until his shoes nudged Grant's.

"I think we shouldn't.. I-" His breath caught in his throat as Dick crept slowly closer. There was a devilish look in those familiar blue eyes that he'd never seen before. The man's lips were so close that they were almost touching. So full. So firm. So soft.

"No!" Grant shoved him away.

"What the-" Cursing softly, Dick pressed forward doggedly and would have pulled Grant back into his embrace if the man hadn't held him away with one arm.

"Stay away from me." Trying to catch his breath, Grant took a step back and found himself hindered by the edge of the kitchen counter. "What the hell do you think you're trying to do, Grayson?"

Dick's blue eyes smoldered - and for once, Grant could have sworn that there was passion and desire in those depths. "What I've been wanting to do for some time now, Donovan."

"What do you mean?" For a minute, he wondered whether he'd stepped into some alternate dimension. How had everything gotten so skewed? From a step away from being slashed by the vigilante Nightwing to being mauled by Dick Grayson. Not that he particularly minded the mauling part.

"I'll do better than that." The man smiled. "I'll show you what I mean."

"What in the world has gotten into you?"

Seeing the confusion in Grant's eyes, Dick backed away, letting the matter rest for the moment. He'd let his emotions get control of him again. "Alright, let's get everything out in the open, Grant. Let's have no more secrets between us. I saw you standing at the street corner tonight."

"You saw me." Grant looked at him warily, wondering what the man was up to. Good God, he was Nightwing. If there was any more doubt ins his mind, the look in Dick's eyes - not to mention the rich robin blue of it - convinced him.

Dick's confident smile returned. "Of course."

There seemed to be little purpose in hiding anything anymore. "You let me see you as Nightwing. And you didn't kill me."

"Nah, didn't want to dirty my costume." he grinned playfully. "You know how hard it is to remove blood stains?"

The casual, almost flippant remark made Grant smile as it was meant to. "Yeah, right, Grayson," he retorted.

Slowly, Dick moved forward again and rested his hands on the kitchen coutner behind Grant, closing him in. Startled, he tried to edge away but the man stopped him with a look. "Don't."

"What do you want from me?" Grant said quietly. "I can assure you that you have my word that I'll never tell."

"It's not that. I know I can trust you." Meeting his serious gaze with his own, Dick managed to look almost sheepish. "Look, Grant, I have never been very good at talking about my feelings. My tongue gets all tangled up and I-"

"And that's how you managed to romance Clancy, Kory and who knows how many others," he stated dryly. God, did he just sound like a jealous suitor?

"You noticed." The man smiled and the flash of his smile caused Grant's heart to skip a beat.

"I'd be blind not to."

"Well, words come easier to me when it's them. But not to you," Dick said sincerely. "After you saw me as Nightwing, I could have made up a story, some excuse for me doing that, perhaps lied to you. But I found that I didn't want to. I don't know if have said this before but in the time that I have known you, you have come to mean more to me than anyone I have ever known."

Before Grant could answer, Dick hastily continued, "Who knows why I let you see me. Perhaps I was tired. Perhaps I was careless." Glancing down at his feet, Dick paused for a moment before looking back at Grant, his eyes aglow. "Or perhaps part of me wanted you to see me. Wanted you to know who I really am. And damn all the consequences."

What he just said paralyzed Grant and he found that he didn't know what to say. Perhaps he was still at work in the hospital and suffering from some mass delusion. This simply could not be happening.

"Dammit, Donovan, have you got nothing to say?" Dick growled softly, exasperated by his silence. There was an impetuousness that he had never seen before as the man leaned forward and pulled Grant into his arms. "I think I'm in love with you."

"Am I drunk?" Grant whispered. Amazing how those muscular arms that could wreak such havoc could also feel so good wrapped around him.

The man looked so dazed for a moment that Dick chuckled. "Why?"

Closing his eyes, Grant shook his head. "This has to be a bloody dream! You can't be standing here telling me you love me."

"It's not a dream." Dick leaned closer till their noses touched, their lips less than an inch apart. "And you don't smell drunk to me."

"Then you must be drunk," he decided.

"Do I look drunk to you?" Actually, Dick looked like heaven but Grant found that he couldn't manage to say that.

He was so close, the man of his dreams, but Grant found that he had to warn him. "Grayson, you're not gay."

"You tell me," Dick replied.



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