When the dark haired man appeared on the warp pad without warning, many heros jumped. The automatic voice didn't announce him, and his name didn't blink on the monitor. Nobody knew him. The man simply smiled, endearingly, as he stepped down from the pad onto the metal flooring. The area around his eyes, which held white hue, were covered by black material, making an eight shape around them. His hair, being on the long side, grazed the tips of his ears. His chest had the outline of a bird, blue in color, while the rest of his costume was black, form fitting. Despite his toned body, a bit of baby fat held firm to his stomach. "Excuse me? Could you tell me where Batman is?" He asked, thumbing his hip, in an unconscious effort to easy his undetected nervousness.

The heroes on monitor duty glanced at one another. What should they do? He obvious wasn't registered in the computer; his name didn't show up. But, if he was there to attack, he would have done so already, wouldn't he? Besides, nobody told them there was a newbie. "Why?", asked one of the new additions to the League. "Well, never mind. I can find him myself." With that, the man strode down the hall. After all, he didn't want to trouble anyone, and he really wasn't in the mood to explain anything right now.

He realized as he walked, everything looked the same, like an endless tunnel. Well, it did, at least, until he stumbled upon the cafeteria. Peaking in, he saw heroes he recognized and some he didn't, which for some reason troubled him. It smelled so good. He hadn't eaten all day. If Batman found out, he be banned for a month from patrol, on account that he wasn't taking care of himself. That was their deal. As long as he took care of himself, Bruce would allow him to go on patrol with his alter-ego, Batman. Even at nineteen-years-old, Bruce wanted to baby him…or protect him…even though it secretly warmed the younger's heart that his adoptive father wanted to watch over him, it frustrated the younger man at times.

Maybe if he snatched some chicken from one of the forgotten treys of food? No. With his luck, someone would notice him, or, worse, Batman would walk in. As he continued contemplating whether to stand in line or find a vending machine, he heard the intercom summon a few select members to the warp pad. He forced himself away from the mouthwatering scent of a warm meal. He came to an elevator. So many freaking buttons. Were there this many floors? He tangled his fingers in his hair, ruffling the strands as his hand slid to his neck, rubbing. The doors opened, startling him. There was a man in a gold and blueish-black costume with a triangular floating gold pod above his head, which had a red dot on its black screen. The man greeted him with a small, "Hey", as the dark haired man stepped in. "You new? I haven't seen you around here before." The blonde man queried.

"No, I…" The younger man looked away, at the buttons. Did Batman want to torture him with social interactions? "I'm not part of the JLA. My…A friend of mine is. He asked me to bring him some files." The man, once leaning on the wall, stood up. "Who's your friend? I can take the files to him."

"No, no. It's fine. He said he wanted me to bring them anyway." He gave a relieved sigh as the doors opened. The man followed as he stepped out. "Do you know where he is?"

"No. But, I can find him. Wait, why didn't I think of that before?" The dark haired man pulled out a rectangle communicator, which he began typing furiously into. The device was oddly familiar to the blonde man. "I'm Booster Gold, if you're curious." The younger man didn't seem to hear him. "Hey, did you hear me?"

"Yeah, Booster Gold. I heard you. Sorry. I need to go now. Nice meeting you." Booster blinked as the man disappeared down the hall. As he did so, Booster couldn't help but notice the younger man's plump bottom half, swishing side to side. Hmm, interesting.

His thumbs, racing across the screen, typed out:

I'm lost.

All he got in reply was:

As long as you're in the Watchtower, you're not lost.

The man tilted his head back as he rolled his eyes up.

Where are you?

Conference room A12, Level 15

He sighed, as he looked at a marker saying he was on level fifteen.

Ok. I'm on level 15. Taking a lap around. I'll get there eventually.

As he approached the conference room A12, the workers walking down the hall became frightened as he examined the keypad to open the door. One tapped him on the shoulder, saying, "You don't want to go in there."

"Why?"

"The Batman's in there. He's been in a bad mood all day." The woman spoke in a whisper, obviously afraid of being heard by the Dark Knight. "I think I'll be ok. Thanks anyway." He went back to staring at the keypad, eyes blurring from lack of sleep. He sighed, irritated, as he once again pulled out his communicator.

I can't open the door.

You can hack into my computer systems without trying. You can open the door.

I didn't sleep well last night.

Did you eat?

…Just open the door…Please?

The door slide open, reveling some very well-known superheroes' faces. He searched the faces until he found Batman. As he walked over to him, ignoring the stares, he handed him a flash drive, with a slightly annoyed expression. "Next time, tell me where you are so I don't have to run around the whole tower looking for you." The others in the room held their breath as they waited for Batman to speak. He simply kept his blank expression as he spoke. "Next time, ask me sooner, brat." The last word was barely heard by the younger man himself. He bristled slightly at the endearment. Batman turned to the members at the table, plugging in the files in a nearby port. "Batman, who is this man?" asked Wonder Woman. "This," The knight, said a matter-of-factly, "Is Nightwing. He's my partner."

Flash, who had his feet up on the table, lowered them to the floor. "Your partner as in…?" There was a soft sound of weak gagging from Nightwing, who looked ridiculously sick at the moment. From Batman's slight sift of facial muscles, he agreed. "God, no." Nightwing said, quickly as he composed himself, pushing images he never wanted to see out of his mind. "I was Robin."

"Robin? The boy wonder? That Robin?" Flash questioned loudly. "I thought he was a myth." "Nope." The younger man noticed a large window, which pictured Earth in all her beauty. He studied it, listening to the quiet of the room. "How old are you, Nightwing?" asked…Black Canary, was it? He turned, glancing over to his mentor, looking for his approval to answer. "I'm Nineteen." The shocked faces turned to anger. "You let him fight crime? Let alone, in Gotham city?" Green Lantern looked absolutely livid as did the others around the table. "I don't let him. He comes with me, whether I want him to or not." Nightwing rolled his eyes, letting out a mocking, "Ha." Even though, it was quiet the members still heard him. Batman only looked at him. The others looked terrified that he was sassing the Dark Knight, the Caped Crusader, the Batman. "Please, if you had your way, I'd be sitting at home wearing bubble wrap 24/7."

The members became petrified when they saw a grin on Batman's face, an actual, genuine grin. What the heck was going on?"Thank you, Nightwing." The batman chuckled. And he said Thank you. Holy crap. The world is ending, isn't? The younger man huffed. "You're welcome." He walked to the door, which was closed. Yes, Nightwing was nineteen. Yes, he acted mature, most of the time. Yes, he was trying to be an adult. Yes, he could hack the friggin' government, if he wanted to. But this door- my God. He stood at exit, staring it down. He looked at the keypad. Why was it different from the one on the outside?

"Are you alright, Nightwing?" Asked Superman, clearly confused about what just happened and why the youngest man in the room was staring the door, not attempting to open it or move. Batman flicked through the files on his screen, then sent them to the others. He raised his head, as waited for Nightwing to speak. "No, yeah. 'M fine. Just wondering why these doors are so stupid." His forehead was pressed into the doorframe. "0259030." Batman stated. Nightwing raised his hand, punching in the numbers. In his bent state, the fabric of his clothing pulled over the back of his body, promoting his more enticing body parts. The Dark Knight watched the expressions of the people around the table. Martian Manhunter radiated fatherly concern for the young man, as did Green Arrow, Aquaman, and Green Lantern. Hawkman and Superman shared a glance then held the same aura as the other men. Wonder Woman, Black Canary, and Hawkwoman moved to comment on the young man's tiredness but said nothing.

Flash was far more interested than he should have been. His eyes stared at Nightwing's backside. Batman sent a glare in his direction. When Wally noticed, he nearly fell out of his seat, as he darted his eyes to the floor. Much better, thought Batman, proudly. "I'm gonna go home now. That ok?" Batman was suddenly reminded of the frail little eight-year-old boy he took in all those years ago. "Of course," He answered, softly, "Get some sleep."

"Kay," He gave a kitten's yawn. "Bye." The young hero glided through the door, almost tripping over his feet. Batman pressed his the temple of his forehead. He stood, soundlessly without explanation, taking the flash drive out of the socket. Since the files were downloaded to the hard drive, they didn't need it anymore. He caught up to Nightwing. "You comin' home with me?" A bit of his Romanian accent peaked through. "I can't let you go home like this…Didn't Agent A feed you?"

"No, it's his day off, remember? He made some stuff for me to warm up, but I didn't get around to it." Their steps became synced. "No patrol?"

"We'll see."

Three of the newer heroes stopped Batman to stuck up to him. The Knight shooed Nightwing, telling him to meet him at the elevator. "Well, well. Look who's here." There wasn't any malice in the voice. What was that guy's name? Buster Gold? Gold Booster? No, wait. It was Booster Gold. Yeah, that's it. "I was worried that you got lost." Nightwing approach the doors, glancing behind himself, waiting for Bruce. "It's a big place. Maybe, I could show you around next time?"

Nightwing offered a weak laugh. "Maybe."

"You know," he leaned closer to the younger man. "I didn't catch your name before."

"Oh, uh. It's Nightwing."

"Nightwing." He tested the taste of the name, rolling it in his mouth. "Hm. Doesn't seem to fit you." Tilting his head, the dark hair asked, "Why not?"

"Nightwing sounds like something, I dunno, a name Batman would use, and you're so cute."

What.

"What."

"I think you're cute."

"I, um, thanks, but –." A dark protective shadow fell over Nightwing. "Run." The dark haired man whispered huskily, eyes warning the blonde man. "Run as fast as you can. Don't look back. Go while you have the chance." Fortunately for Booster Gold (and Nightwing), the elevator came. As he dashed into the moving room, Nightwing pulled Batman in. "Stay away from my son, Booster Gold. I don't tolerate cradle robbers." The knight ground out, his voice like gravel.

Thus, the story of how the Justice League met Nightwing ends. Though, nobody really understands how Booster Gold and The Flash became rivals.