Warning: this is a rather light story, somewhat in character.
Disclaimer: don't own
Summary: Dick finds a safe house in Buldhaven which belongs to a certain mercenary. He decides to stay and ends with a new benefactor for Nightwing.
Five drabbles, 1-3 are gen and 4-5 are light/humor/smut
This was a very good security system for an seemingly abandoned warehouse, mused the hero clad in black and blue.
The smell of the small port in Buldhaven was nothing like the clean ocean air on Jump City's beaches, yet the warehouse was familiar.
An old warehouse among others were only the owners knew which belonged to whom, if there were even ones.
It was a good place to hide, especially if you had enough money to pay another to put his or her name under the contract.
Truthfully the vigilante only had a notion without any proof, if it turned out that he been wrong, then he had broken into someone's property like any criminal.
Yet he hadn't his badge with him, right now he was a civilian dressed in a skintight suit with weapons he probably shouldn't have.
So did it matter?
It should, but it didn't and was sure that he was right.
Nightwing entered the building and heard gears clicking into each other.
A normal warehouse with machines that did whatever machines did in this factory, neither an abandoned empty hall which was perfect for homeless or others to spent the night here, nor huge security signs which suggested that something worth stealing was here.
Undisturbed the self-declared hero continued on his path.
He knew the way, everything was established like the one in Jump City...
A door with a small keyboard caught his eyes, he lifted the small cover with nine numbers on it and found one with the whole alphabet on it.
N, a password he wouldn't forget, it was his own last name after all.
He remembered how scared he had been as Slade had taught it him during his apprenticeship.
As he had told him that he knew who he was without outright telling him.
Now he was only wryly amused.
The hallway went downwards and he looked around the empty safehouse with a nostalgia he shouldn't feel.
It was almost welcoming, unlike the cave with the costume of a dead child he never really knew nor a new one that admired him for some reason.
Careful not to linger on such thoughts he entered apprentice/his old room next to the master bedroom and laid down for a moment to rest.
Something moved, sleepily he looked at the shadow of a man who pulled a blanket over his form.
He awoke in an empty warehouse.
Damn chemicals, cursed Nightwing mentally as he run across the rooftops
Cuts and bruises were fine, not pleasant but he could deal with them on his own.
Clean it, bandage it so it couldn't move and it will grow correctly back together, deal with the pain preferably without drugs.
Toxins, those were nasty, you needed a whole lab just to make sure nothing would kill you while you slept.
He didn't have a lab in his own home and didn't want to ask Batman for help.
Dick wasn't his protege anymore, he couldn't run to him every other day to help him out.
It kind of undermined the whole 'being his own man and not needing help' point he attempted to proof.
The Justice League offered 'free' help, sponsored by a certain Wayne, was always an option, yet his feet had carried him here.
It was still the same password, so he entered the rooms with the unspoken permission.
Everything he needed was in the small lab and so he run the tests he needed with the expensive equipment.
"You didn't change the password", pointed Dick softly out as he saw the owner of the building entering the lab.
He sat on the patient stretcher and waited for an reaction as well as for the results of a test.
It wasn't an excuse to enter the home of someone else, but did he need one?
"Nor am I going to", answered Slade as he looked around.
"Please make a list of everything he took so I can restock it, dinner will be ready in half an hour.
With that the mercenary left and Dick was left alone in the room.
He was starved, after the patrol he had, once again, slept in the safehouse which had nearly everything he needed.
Around 2pm his stomach had awoken him and he had decided that he wanted fresh fruit salad.
It was nearly November, yet he had somehow spent very little this month for his own living expenses, and he had enough to buy everything for the treat.
In the end he had an huge bowl, a pineapple alone could feed one man, so he was pleasantly surprised when he heard steps behind him.
"That's a lot of food for one person", pointed an older voice out.
Wintergreen, Slade's butler/father figure, stood behind him
The welcoming smile had a certain edge to it, apparently there were boundaries he shouldn't cross.
"Figured so I wouldn't have to cook again for dinner, or breakfast tomorrow", explained Dick and saw the sharp smile softening on his face.
"Or enough for three", said the other mildly and set the table.
The invitation to stay here was apparently an exclusive one for the hero.