Title: Brothers and Birds of Prey

Rating: K/PG for now, might go to T/PG-13 if continued

Word Count: 2,440

Disclaimer: If I wrote it, it wouldn't be published because it would be locked in endless revision.

Author's Note: So this is in part max2013's fault. There were two reviews with "holy Batman" in them, and that got me thinking of crossover possibilities. Then I had a really lousy night/day. I couldn't write anything on my existing stories, and I had been watching the Animated Series since I needed a break before marathoning the 70s and 90s Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys shows again. So I decided to indulge myself some with this "test" to see if I could make the idea viable.

I'm still on the fence about it, and I will go back to All the Broken Pieces now, but I needed something different today. It has been a while since I read the comics, but I took Barbara needing to replace her Birds of Prey team and mixed it with the case that originally drew Dick to Blüdhaven. It's only mildly canon-compliant.

Also... Should warn that I am not only a Frank/Nancy shipper but also a Dick/Babs shipper, and if even hints of that bother people... turn away now because I can't seem to stop writing them in. Not very good at overt, either, but I didn't last a chapter without some friendship fluff/banter sneaking in.

Cases and Strange Offers

"I don't like this," Joe admitted, leaning back in his seat. Normally, he liked traveling first class, but right now, he was too on edge to enjoy it. They were being dragged back across the country, but instead of going home as had been the plan, they were about to get dumped into another mission. They were just lucky that neither of them had gotten hurt on their last case. "Dealing with corrupt cops is almost more dangerous than with criminals themselves. At least with them you know you're dealing with the bad guys. With corrupt cops, how can you ever be sure?"

Frank closed the file. Joe didn't know why it was still open—it wasn't that thick and Frank had already read it over more than once, but that was what his brother did—he prepared. "At least we know going in that more than half of the force is corrupt. It would be worse if we didn't."

"I guess. I'm not sure why they're sending us in there, though," Joe said, voicing something that had been bothering him since the beginning of their briefing. "I know it's not that far from home, practically right in our backyard, but Blüdhaven is like Gotham. Off-limits because of vigilante activity."

Frank looked over at his brother, smiling but saying nothing, holding it long enough to make Joe crazy. After a few minutes, Joe reached over and hit him in the arm. Frank didn't even bother to make a show of rubbing at his arm, but he didn't stop smirking.

"What is so damn funny?"

"You." Frank laughed. Joe hit him again. "All right. All right. When you think about it, we're not that different from vigilantes. True, we don't do our investigating in flashy costumes or have codenames, no elaborate personas or anything, but we're not law enforcement. Not officially. Even if we were licensed with Dad's agency, even when we're working for the Network, it's all unofficial and we do break laws to get what we need to solve our cases. Breaking and entering, trespassing, hacking... we do all of that."

Joe laughed. "You know, you're right—we do. I wonder what I'd be if I was a superhero. Something cool—maybe like the Flash?"

"If the Flash has a big mouth and an overexaggerated reputation with the ladies, sure," Frank said, dodging another swipe from Joe's fist. "You should probably try and sleep. We will be going right back to work as soon as we land."

"I liked your logic when you were likening us to superheroes—"

"Technically I linked us to vigilantes—"

"But not when you're getting all responsible on me. Come on, Frank. Enjoy yourself a little. We didn't even celebrate solving that last case."

Frank grimaced. He shook his head as he shifted in the chair. "With the way that went down, I don't think celebrating is the right word. We should be so fortunate that the Network has an interest in Blüdhaven because I don't think anyone would want to hire us after that last fiasco."

Joe sighed. "I suppose you have a point."

His brother turned back to the file, looking it over with a frown.

"Haven't you read that enough by now? You should have it memorized by now."

"Did you miss the body count on page one?" Frank asked, shaking his head. "Sixty. An entire mob family wiped out and dumped in the river. I'd really like to avoid becoming one of them. I really want you to avoid being one of them."

"You're not going to start on me having the more dangerous role again, are you? Because I'm telling you, Frank, even if you're just going in as an IT geek, it's you. You're the one going in with a bunch of dirty cops. Me? I know I'm going in with the mob, and I know who I can trust. You don't."

Frank snorted. "You're not going to convince me that being undercover in the mob will ever be safer than playing a cop, little brother. We never should have agreed to this."

That, Joe thought, he could actually agree with.

Admit it, Drew, this is completely crazy, Nancy told herself as she settled in the back of a Gotham city cab. She should never have come. Anyone would tell her she was nuts for doing it. All she'd gotten was a bouquet of flowers and a cryptic invitation, and she should have dismissed it or assumed it was a trap. She wasn't thinking that it wasn't, but she had to admit that she could have found a better way to spring it besides walking right into it.

Still, something about it compelled her. She had to know more, and she was going to find out just what this Oracle person wanted with her.

She just wished she'd been able to get a hold of Frank or Joe before she'd left River Heights. Not only was Gotham closer to their hometown, making it more likely that they would have heard rumors from there in the first place, but they also had local connections—and the ultra-secret Network as a resource.

She should have had plenty of information on Oracle by now, but since she hadn't heard from the Hardys or any of her other contacts, she had nothing but a failed internet search to go on. She was, effectively, going in blind.

She'd left word with her family and friends just in case, though she was hoping that particular backup plan wouldn't be necessary. Oracle claimed to have an interesting employment opportunity for her, and Nancy was curious. It was far from the first job offer she'd ever had—the FBI, CIA, and a few other agencies had offered her work. She was still trying to decide between the offers while she worked on her degrees.

The cab stopped in front of the hotel. "This is it, lady."

Nancy nodded. She took out her wallet and handed him enough bills to cover the trip. She would get more information once she checked into the hotel, she was sure of it, so arriving here was a relief. As soon as she knew what this Oracle was up to, she'd feel a lot better about the whole thing.

She grabbed her bag and left the car, climbing up the steps. The doorman let her in, and she crossed the lobby to the front desk.

"I have a reservation under Drew," Nancy told the clerk. He gave her a tight nod as he looked it up on the computer. She was almost convinced it would have been lost, but he stopped, touching the screen.

"One single, two nights. You're in room five-ten," he told her, activating a set of door keys and handing them to her.

"Don't you want identification or a credit card?"

The clerk shook his head. "Room's been paid for. Enjoy your stay."

She wasn't sure that would happen, but she accepted her key and made her way toward her room. If this was a test set up by Oracle, Nancy was almost guaranteed to have failed it by now. She took out her phone and hit the button to put another call into the Hardys. Maybe Joe was busy flirting or in some kind of trouble.

She had to settle for Frank's voicemail. Again. "Frank, it's Nancy. I'm... in the area, kind of. I was hoping to talk to you. Or Joe. Call me back when you get this. Please. I'm starting to get worried about both of you."

She ended the call as the elevator reached the fifth floor. She stepped out and waited.

"All right, Oracle. I'm here."

Selina would have words for this one—curiosity killed the cat.

Barbara shook her head, fighting amusement even as she kept watch on the video screens. She didn't know what to think of this one yet. She'd had far too many of her invitees ignore the card, and many of them weren't ones she'd really wanted to recruit in the first place. Black Canary leaving the team, followed by Huntress and Lady Blackhawk had made Barbara's situation a little desperate.

Nancy Drew had a reputation. She was known for her investigative work, having solved cases all around the world. While she had worked with several different law enforcement agencies in the past, she didn't belong to any of them. She was still freelance, leaving her in a position where she could take up Barbara's offer if she chose.

Not that Barbara had really made one—yet. That was why Miss Drew was a little too curious for her own good. She'd come without knowing who had sent her the card or why, and though Barbara had seen her attempt to make contact with people who might have been able to tell her more about Oracle, she hadn't managed it, and Barbara kept the internet free of any trace of herself, leaving nothing more for Drew to find, since their paths had never come close to crossing before.

The question was... Was Drew's willingness to come all this way and look into that offer an asset or a sign of recklessness?

That Barbara couldn't answer, not without further observation. She needed to know how Drew would handle taking orders from someone she never saw—how she took orders, period—and how the other woman worked under pressure.

"Hmm. She's cute, but then I always did have a thing for redheads."

Barbara snorted, rolling her eyes as she turned around. "What are you doing here, Dick?"

"Testing your security," he told her with a grin. Barbara shook her head, wishing it was easier to resist that smile. The Grayson charm worked on everyone from morose superheroes to hardened criminals. "Actually... I heard about Canary and the others. I was—"

"Worried?"

"—going to offer my services, should you need them," he finished. "I know I'm not your usual choice for legwork, but if you were to need anything—"

"Isn't Nightwing a little busy in Blüdhaven these days?" Barbara asked, folding her arms over her chest. "And Dick Grayson has his hands full being a rookie cop. You're already spread pretty thin."

"My offer stands," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and giving them a squeeze. "I'm your friend, Babs. Don't forget that."

"I haven't." She covered his hand with hers. "I appreciate the offer, but I know you have other things you need to do. I'll let you know if I run into anything I can't handle—just don't forget that I can and do take care of myself."

"I'd never do that," he assured her. He gave her another smile before turning toward the window. "Let me know how it goes with the new recruits. I can help vet them if you want."

"I'll manage. You're on shift in less than an hour, Officer Grayson. You'd better head down to Blüdhaven—you know how bad rush hour traffic can be."

He gave her a salute before jumping out the window. She bumped the armrest of her wheelchair and tried to pretend she didn't care that he could still do that and she couldn't.

Frank winced when he took a sip of stale coffee, not able to remember how long it had been since he left to go get it. The stuff was disgusting in the first place—the sort of coffee that horror stories were made of—but when he forgot about it, he made it ten times worse, at least.

He fiddled with his lanyard. He still hadn't heard anything from Joe, and while he knew they couldn't make direct contact without raising anyone's suspicions, they'd put measures in place for that. Joe not using them worried him. It wouldn't be that hard to believe that his brother was already in trouble. Joe was a magnet for that sort of thing.

"Knock knock."

Frank leaned back in his chair, trying not to reveal his surprise. This cop was only a patrolman, so why was he down here in the IT division? "Need something, Officer?"

"You're new."

"That a crime?" Frank asked, hoping his tone seemed light enough to make it a joke. Last thing he needed was to blow his cover this early—he'd only been on the job for a couple days.

"No, but I'm used to the other one—grumpy, fat, hates anything that doesn't operate on binary code? You know what happened to him?"

Frank shook his head. He figured the Network had arranged something to take him out of the picture, though it could have been the work of someone else as well. "They didn't say. I didn't ask."

The other man nodded, though he didn't seem too pleased by that answer. Or maybe he had wanted the antisocial tech to be there. He smiled, holding out a hand to Frank. "I'm Dick Grayson."

Frank frowned. This guy was billionaire Bruce Wayne's ward? What was he doing as a beat cop in one of the most corrupt cities in the country? That made no sense. Frank decided to look into later, not wanting to alert the guy just yet. He offered up the cover identity the Network had given him. "Daniel Weston. Did you need something?"

"Yeah. Had a guy we picked up earlier drop this," the officer said, holding up a flash drive. "They told me to see if there was anything on it."

Frank eyed it. Something about this whole thing felt off, and he wasn't sure if it was just that the rich kid was slumming or not. He didn't know what to think of this Officer Grayson, but he knew something was wrong. He made no move to touch the drive. "If this is some kind of rookie hazing and I find a bunch of videos of Justin Beiber on this thing—"

"I'm a rookie, too. Why would I haze you?" Grayson asked. He shook his head. "If you'd rather not look at it, that's fine. I could do it myself or I've got a friend who does tech work—"

"Give it to me, and I'll get it looked at. It is my job, after all."

Grayson nodded. "You're right. I'm just used to the last guy. He didn't think so."

"Yes, well, I get the feeling he didn't like you."

Grayson frowned. "What's not to like?"

"You sound like my brother," Frank muttered, holding out his hand for the drive. "Come back in half-an-hour. I'll have something for you then."

"Half-an-hour?"

"Something wrong with that?"

"No," Grayson said in a tone that wasn't very convincing. "Not at all."