Safety First

Batman and all related and recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC
Luder.

^V^

"It is a wise father that knows his own child."

William Shakespeare

^V^

At some point, I had fallen asleep while Father had read to me.

Despite telling me that she was going to check in on us, Mother never entered my
room after dinner. Alone with my father, I tried not to ask too many questions
but I couldn't help it. Through three games of chess, I was surprised to see him
willingly answer each and every one of my inquiries without hesitation. Mother
had once said that he was a very private person but I began to think otherwise.

I had just moved my knight to place his king in check when he finally began to
ask his own questions.

At first they were about my favorites, flavors of ice cream, books, things I
liked to draw. I was more than willing to answer him, being sure not to babble
too much so that we could move on to the next. He asked about my adopted parents
and I felt bad because I didn't know enough about them to answer his questions.

"Do you remember their names?"

I shrugged as I sat on the floor, leaning my back against Caesar's side. We had
left the chess table and moved to a section of my chambers that I often sat for
hours letting my imagination run wild. Grandfather said an imagination was
something that needed to be developed overtime. So just as I had to read and
solve math equations for homework, he encouraged me to have time alone, letting
my creativity get some exercise.

I had shrugged in response, "No. I remember that my mother always smelled like
cookies. She was a baker."

"And your father?"

After a moment of trying to bring up anything remotely related to my former
guardian, I had sighed, "I don't know. I don't really remember anything about
him… Can I ask another question?"

My father had been sitting opposite me, staring into the crackling fire in the
stone fireplace before us. He looked over at me and offered a smile of comfort,
"Of course."

"Well… Mother said your parents died when you were little… Like mine did… Do
you... Do you remember them?"

The smile on his face had vanished and I suddenly felt bad for making him sad.
Before I could try and change the subject, he replied, "I was two years older
than you are right now when I lost my parents so I do have memories of them.
Many of them."

"Good ones?"

"Great ones. My mother… She would always wake me in the morning by kissing my
forehead."

His smile had returned as he began recollecting his parents. I thought for a
moment that it was sad I would never know them.

It wasn't long before my lids grew heavy. He must have noticed as he suggested
that it was probably time for bed. I agreed and got to my feet, Caesar matching
my every move. My father had risen as well and commented that Caesar seemed very
protective of me.

"He's my best friend," I had replied, "Well, Caesar and now you."

After I had changed for bed, I found my father standing beside my desk looking
over the various drawings and assignments. Mother said I was very smart for my
age and I had suddenly wondered if he was proud of me for such accomplishments.
I approached my desk as well, retrieving a hardcover book from under my math
assignments, "Will you stay and read with me?"

Despite my efforts to stay awake in order to spend more time with him, I had to
fight to keep my eyelids open, especially as he read. His voice was deep and
smooth and I kept thinking that someday I would have the same voice, as I
already had his eyes, hair and nose.

Ever since I had returned to live with my mother, she had promised that one day
I would be able to meet him. And then, once our family was whole, we would live
together forever. I had once asked if we would move to America but she did not
know. Father had a great deal of responsibilities there and she was uncertain if
he would be willing to leave them behind.

At first, anyway.

The entire evening, I had tried my best not to think on how he said he wasn't a
detective. Either he was lying, or my grandfather was. Either way, it confused
me. Why would either lie about my father's profession? Even as I was drifting
off to sleep, my thoughts kept going back to his words, denying that he was a
detective, something I had dreamed of also one day becoming.

It was perhaps the very reason why I slept fitfully, waking every few hours to
find my blankets twisted about my legs and my brow sweaty. At one point, I had
nearly jumped out of bed in order to sneak down the hall to my mother's
quarters. But with Caesar slumbering on my legs, I gave up on the thought and
did my best to fall back asleep.

The next time my eyes opened, I looked up to see my mother's face smiling down
at me.

"Good morning, Ibn."

"Morning," I managed before yawning. I sat up quickly and glanced about my room,
"Where's father?"

"Resting."

"Did he not sleep?"

She looked away briefly before saying, "He rarely sleeps."

I thought of another figure in my life that seemed to always be awake and asked,
"Like Grandfather?"

"I suppose… Well, you best get ready, it's nearly time for breakfast."

After pushing my blankets away, Mother stood and let out a low whistle. Caesar
quickly rose to his feet before stepping off of my bed, allowing me to do the
same. I sometimes wondered if he was taught to lie on my lower legs in order to
keep me in bed at night. All I knew is that my feet were never cold.

As Mother approached my wardrobe, I shuffled into the bathroom and proceeded to
wash up and get ready for the day. Generally, I spent every day reading,
writing, and studying lessons with my grandfather in addition to playing with
Caesar and occasionally with Ubu. Mother had once explained that I needed to
learn to defend myself because of my status in the world. I had once asked if I
was a prince and she had replied, "Almost."

I loved sparring with Ubu, even though my tiny fists and feet were no match for
his massive form. On more than one occasion, he had managed to snatch me by the
ankle and proceeded to hold me upside down. Although he rarely did so, Ubu
couldn't help but smile with me swaying back in forth in front of him giggling.

Mother even attended such matches, schooling me in how to respond to the various
attacks Ubu presented. After defeating me several times in a row, I was forced
to find an alternative approach, and could usually catch him off guard at least
once a month. I wanted to improve myself because Mother often reminded me that
my father was a master of martial arts in addition to escape artistry and
detective reasoning.

Someday, I would be as well.

After entering my bedroom, I donned the clothing that Mother had set out for me:
dark pants and thundercloud gray sweater. As I dressed, I asked, "Will I have to
do my studies today?"

"Some. Not all. Perhaps you can complete them with your father?"

"Really?" I asked, popping my head through the sweater.

"We shall see. But first, we must eat."

I followed her to the dining hall, taking her hand into mine. I loved being near
her, whether we were eating, reading or walking. With little memory of my
adopted mother, it seemed to be all right to devote all of my love to my real
mother. And father.

Upon entering the room, I had expected to see my grandfather and father already
waiting for us but was disappointed to see neither. Before I could ask a
question, Mother gently let go of my hand and touched my shoulder, "It will just
be us this morning."

Grandfather often chose to dine alone, especially when he was upset or deep in
thought. I once went an entire month without seeing him. "But what about Father?
Should we wake him?"

She motioned to my seat and I took it before she answered, "After we eat, we
shall take him something to eat."

"Breakfast in bed," I replied with a smirk.

I ate as quickly as possible, wanting nothing more but to see my father's face
when I brought him a tray of fresh fruit, warm hunayua and ful madames. After
cleaning two plates of food and emptying my glass of tea, I waited impatiently
as my mother ate slower than I had ever seen anyone eat.

She asked if I desired anything more and when I shook my head, she smiled, "Very
well. Why don't you prepare something for your father."

Since my father was much larger than I, it seemed logical to fill an entire
plate of the ful madames, certain to keep the presentation of the fava beans,
garlic and parsley from shifting into the arrangement of sliced baladi bread. I
then carefully transported sliced figs, dates, apricots and a handful of chopped
pie nuts and sesame seeds into a small dish of yogurt. After adding a dash of
honey, I mixed the treat thoroughly before scanning the table for something else
to bring him.

Mother, finally done eating, looked over my handy work, "A genuine feast, Ibn."

"Think he will want more?"

As she scanned the very full plates of food, she leaned forward and kissed the
top of my head, "I don't think he will eat for the rest of the day after all of
this."

After trimming down any excess food to make the meal less threatening, she
called for a servant from the kitchen to help us carry it to her chambers. I was
about to interject that I wanted to carry his meal but my mother would never
have agreed. Instead, I settled on carrying his tea.

I did my best to silence my steps in order to wake father. I knew sometimes
grandfather would very irate if I woke him, especially right after he had just
fallen asleep. But we were surprised to see that he was not only awake, but also
gone completely.

A look of fear washed over my mother's face but before I could have asked where
he was, she instructed me to sit on the bed with the food and wait. When I made
an attempt to question her, her brow rose in such a way that I decided sitting
with my father's breakfast wasn't that bad.

She spoke to the servant quietly before dismissing her. Mother was just about to
leave as well when Ubu's form filled the doorway into the corridor, "My lady,
your father requests your presence in the control room." The control room was
one of my favorite places. Often, grandfather used the telescope to provide
views of the starry skies above. I loved learning about constellations and
hoping to catch a glimpse of a falling star.

I carefully slipped off of the edge of the bed and approached my mother as she
replied, "Whatever for?"

Ubu rarely said anything that he wasn't instructed to. If he hadn't been given a
pre-approved response, than he simply did not respond.

My mother's glare locked on my grandfather's bodyguard, "Where is my beloved?"

"My lady, please."

After ordering Ubu to watch over me, my mother turned to me, barely hiding her
concern with her forced smile, "I want you to wait here for your father, Ibn.
Ubu will watch over you."

"Where is Father?"

"He will be here soon. Just stay here."

And with that, she turned and briskly walked into the hallway, closing the door
behind her. I took my seat on my mother's bed once more and stared at the full
plates of food. Ubu had yet to move once since he had entered the room and when
I looked up at his face, I noticed he was staring straight ahead.

Reclining onto the bed, I tried to figure out what was happening. So Father
wasn't in his chambers? He could have easily gone to tour the compound, no doubt
needing time to himself. Mother said he had lived alone with his manservant; of
course having a new family would be a lot to take in at once. Or maybe he was
upset about something else. He had never been close to my grandfather. Maybe he
was already preparing to leave, to take my mother and I back to America with
him.

Or maybe a new case was breaking in his golden city, something that only the
world's greatest detective could handle.

But he wasn't a detective…

"Ubu?" I suddenly sat up.

"Yes, sire?"

"Is my father a detective?"

Ubu paused before replying, "Yes, sire."

"He said he wasn't."

Another pause. No doubt wanting to avoid having to respond on his own. "He has
many responsibilities. Many professions, sire."

"So… he's not always a detective?"

His answer came quickly, "Correct, sire."

Somewhat content with his answer, I found my eyes dropping to my father's
breakfast, which was quickly growing cold. Just as I was about to ask Ubu where
he thought my father had gone, I heard my grandfather's bodyguard grunt. Caesar,
who had been lying near the edge of the bed lifted his massive head and growled
lowly.

In the fraction of a second that it took me to look up at Ubu, he had slumped
forwards, landing face first on the cold, stone floor. Standing above him was my
father, arms flexed at his sides. As he knelt beside the still form, he glanced
up at me briefly before pressing his fingers to Ubu's throat.

"Father, what… why did you…?" I couldn't finish. I couldn't even move.

He rose to his feet and quickly approached me, "Ibn, I'm sorry you had to see
that… but I can't do what I have to with Ubu standing by."

Unable to process his words, I finally managed to ask, "Where did you go? Mother
and I… we…"

Instead of answering my question, he returned to his explanation, "It's all
right… I want you to know that… I didn't come here on my own. Your grandfather
took me against my will. I have… family and friends that are worried about me
and I have to leave in order to find them. Do you understand?"

I shook my head slowly, "But I want to be your family."

He sighed before kneeling in front of me, his crystal blue eyes frighteningly
similar to the ones I stared at in my bathroom mirror. Gently, he set both of
his hands on my shoulders, "You are… Ibn. And that's why I want you to come with
me."

That morning I woke with a smile on my face, excited about spending the first
full day alongside my father. Less than three hours later, I was fighting back
tears, trying to understand what the stranger before me was saying.

"I... I… what about Mother? And Grandfather?"

There was a brief moment when he hesitated and looked towards the door. When he
glanced back at me, one of his hands reached up and wiped away a tear from my
cheek, "We will find your mother. And she will go with us."

Fighting back a sniffle, I asked, "And Caesar?"

Despite the serious look I had seen on his face since he had struck down Ubu,
the corner of his lip twitched slightly, "And Caesar."

Not a moment later, we stepped over Ubu's stilled body and made our way through
the corridors back to my bedroom. Father paused and gestured me to do the same
every so often. The second time, I followed his gaze upwards to the security
cameras that were attached to the walls. Despite the books I read and the dreams
I remembered, I had never felt like a detective until that very moment.

Sneaking through the halls on a secret mission, under the guidance of the
world's greatest.

Upon arriving at my quarters, my father instructed me to gather a few belongings
and to wait for him. When he moved towards the door, I asked where he was going.
He was in the middle of his reply of "I need to find your mother," when a loud
blaring sound echoed outside of my chamber door. Something I had heard only
twice in my three years there.

My father suddenly became tense at the presence of the alarm going off. Instead
of continuing out the door in search of Mother, he returned to my side, "Ibn, I
need you to trust me."

"I do," I replied without hesitation.

"Either my friends have found their way here or your grandfather is doing
everything he can to find me."

I didn't know what to say so I simply nodded.

He continued as he set his hand over mine, "We're going to have to leave sooner
than I thought. We're going to have to leave right now."

Caesar, who had followed us from my mother's chambers, suddenly stepped forward.
I looked at him briefly before looking up at my father, "Okay."

Not a moment later, I found myself in the hold of my father's strong arms, being
carried out into the corridor. Caesar was quick to follow, his long strides
easily keeping up with us. We were headed in the opposite direction of the rest
of the living quarters. At the intersection I was forbidden to travel beyond, a
pair of guards called out from behind us. I tried to crane my head back to see
them but Father swiftly turned and darted down the left hand hallway.

I had a general idea of what was at the end of the hall. The guards training
area, storage areas as well as exterior access through the airplane station. I
had no doubt that Father would be able to get us out safely but I suddenly
questioned whether or not he knew how to fly a plane.

Perhaps a question I should have asked him the night before.

^V^

Chapter 8: Gypsy Charm