Siren's Song

Author's Note: Dedicated to my soundboard and DC guru, Miss Frogg.

Siren's Song
Chapter 2


“Here you go, sir.”

Bruce looked up at Alfred, then down at the file he was holding. “What’s this? I thought we already had everything on the Siren.”

“We do, sir. This is the file on Will Wyatt, Master Dick’s friend. I thought I’d save you the trouble.”

Bruce looked as if he was about to protest, but seeing the knowing gleam in his friend’s eyes, sighed and took the file.

“He’s a good man, Mr. Wyatt,” Alfred said almost absently as Bruce began flipping through the pages, though they both knew there was a purpose behind his words. “He has a reputation of being honest and hardworking, which is why the city of Bludhaven hired him as their contractor for the downtown renovations.”

“Still trying to lure people to that hellhole?” Bruce quipped, and Alfred nodded.

“Respectable people, yes sir, so it would seem.”

“And Mr. Wyatt is going to have a hand in that?”

“Several, I believe. He’s an intelligent man with an engineering degree from MIT, but he prefers working with his hands. As you can see from the pictures, he can often be found alongside the men he hires and is adept at everything from construction to electrical wiring. The men he works with all have nothing but the highest of praise for him. He is, as they say, quite a catch.”

Bruce stared at the photos in the file of the handsome young man, laughing and smiling with those around him, or gazing with an expert eye at a set of blueprints, always giving the appearance of being at ease and in control of everything around him. Alfred was right. Anyone would be lucky to have Will, but why did that lucky bastard have to be Dick?

He knew why, even if he didn’t like to admit it.

He’d been the one to chase Dick off before they’d even had a chance--because he was afraid of giving them a chance--because he was afraid of what he might lose if. . .

The truth was, quite simply, because he was afraid.

“As long as Dick’s happy,” Bruce said softly as he closed the file.

“That’s what’s important,” Alfred nodded with sad eyes as he looked at his charge. Bruce, sensing the sorrowful gaze, glanced up at him and smiled.

“He’s better off, Alfred. He and I both know this.”

“You might know it, sir,” Alfred said, placing a gentle hand on the strong shoulder, “but I am not so convinced, and neither is Master Dick.”

Alfred gave the shoulder a comforting squeeze, then left Bruce to his thoughts.

Bruce opened the file again and looked into a pair of sparkling green eyes. In his mind, he pictured those eyes watching Dick, those skilled fingers touching Dick, the lean body pressed against—

Snarling, Bruce threw the file across the Batcave and buried his face in his hands.

There was no point in feeling jealousy, or regret. He’d made his decision and he wasn’t going to change his mind. He’d offered Dick everything he could spare. It wasn’t his fault if Dick wanted more.

No, it was just his fault that he was the stubborn asshole who refused to give more.

Bruce sighed and moved to pick up the scattered pieces of Will Wyatt’s file, making a mental note to burn it later. He had his own lover haunting him. He didn’t need his lover’s lover lurking over his shoulder as well.



Officer Richard Grayson stood outside his apartment door, body tensed at the sound of movement from inside. Slowly, he reached for the handle and turned it. The door swung open easily, even though he’d remembered locking it before he left.

He walked inside and paused, sniffing the air. The apartment was filled with the scent of. . . garlic?

Not only had he been positive he’d locked the door, but he was dead certain there wasn’t a single clove of garlic in the place. There weren’t even any dried crushed flakes in a bottle. The apartment had been garlic free, so that meant the intruder either had a really bizarre hygiene problem, or. . .

Dick walked into the apartment’s tiny kitchen, grabbed his lover, and pushed him against the wall. Latching onto Will’s mouth, he kissed him, unleashing the pent-up desire which had been building since he’d first stepped foot into Wayne Manor that morning.

He let Will’s lips chase away the memory of the awkward greeting from Bruce, the pale attempt at conversation, the hinted accusations that built into a full argument, ending with Dick storming out of the Manor in a fury. Yep, just another typical day for the Wayne household.

And then came the regret, the guilt that maybe. . . just maybe. . . if he’d been a little more patient, stuck around a little longer, maybe they would have gotten beyond all this and he and Bruce could have--

Snarling, Dick pushed the thought from his head and concentrated on Will. Even if the young man whose tongue was sliding across his wasn’t the one he wanted to be kissing, he was a more than suitable substitute.

“Rough day?” Will gasped as Dick ripped open his shirt, sending buttons flying everywhere--an ominous ‘plop’ warning them they’d better be careful while eating dinner later on.

“Something like that,” he muttered, swiping his tongue across a peaked nipple before taking it between this teeth. He nibbled and tugged on the tiny nub until Will was moaning freely, clutching at Dick, at the countertop, at the refrigerator--anything to keep him standing.

There was a pounding against the wall not caused by them, followed by some incoherent yelling, also not caused by them. Dick broke away and looped a finger into Will’s jeans.

“Bedroom. Now,” he ordered, leaving no room for argument as he led his lover out of the kitchen, not that Will was making any protests.

Dick yanked the denim down the lean legs and pushed Will onto the bed, pulling down his pants before crawling in after him.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he growled hungrily as he gazed at the hard cock ready for him, and Will responded with a wolfish grin.

“I thought I’d save us a few seconds. Besides, you always say going commando makes my ass look so much more accessible.”

“So long as I’m the only one with access to it,” he said, reaching for tube on the nightstand.

“The only one I know of,” Will said, raising his legs as Dick’s lubricant coated finger pressed into his hole. He moaned as the finger moved quickly inside of him, his own body matching Dick’s impatience as he pushed against it. “Damnit, Dick, stop teasing!”

An eyebrow arched over a dilated blue eye. “Are you sure you’re ready for me?”

“You have to ask?”

A low chuckle issued from Dick’s throat as he removed his finger and added more lube to his hand, rubbing it over his cock. He bit his lip at the shock that ran through his body and quickly readied himself at his lover’s entrance. With one smooth stroke, he pushed himself inside, freezing as Will buried a strangled shout in one of the pillows.

Fearing he’d hurt him, Dick moved to pull out, but the green eyes turned to meet his, and he saw the hunger there matching his own. Grinning widely, he kissed Will and began moving inside of him, pounding away the anger and frustration that had tormented him throughout the day. He came hard and fast, spilling himself deep inside the willing body, but didn’t withdraw. He wrapped one hand around Will’s erection and stroked it until he felt Will clenching around him and the hot seed splattered all over his hand.

“I love being inside you when you come,” he said, leaning over for another kiss s he slowly withdrew. “I love the way you feel, the way your body caresses me, holds me, loves me.”

“My body can’t help it. It likes having you in me,” Will smiled.

Dick grinned, grabbing a handful of tissues to clean them off, then
wrapped himself around his lover.

“Let’s not move, okay?” he said as Will’s arms encompassed him.

“Not ever?”

“No,” he murmured, kissing his lover’s chest. “It’s nice here. It’s safe here. As long as we stay right here, the rest of the world can go to hell.”

“It’ll probably smell like hell soon. I left the stove on and our dinner will be burning pretty soon.”

“Let it burn. We can order takeout.”

“And let my culinary efforts go to waste?” Will protested and Dick gave him a sly look.

“You were making pasta.”

Will shrugged, eyes dancing with amusement. “Hey, it’s culinary, and it’s an effort. Don’t knock it.”

“Does this mean we’re getting up now?”

“You can stay,” he said, kissing the top of the black hair as he eased himself out of Dick’s arms. “I’ll go and, just this once, bring you dinner in bed.”

“My hero,” he sighed, snuggling into the mattress.

Will grabbed a clean pair of Dick’s boxer-briefs and pulled them on. “Fuck,” he grumbled as he moved stiffly towards the kitchen.

“What?”

“Nothing, but you’re going to have to go a little easy on my ass the rest of the week, or I’m never going to be able to walk normally again.”

Dick studied his boyfriend’s backside dressed deliciously in his own clothing, and decided to take Will’s words as a challenge. He slid out of bed and at the noise, Will glanced behind him. Eyes widening dramatically, he shook his head.

“Oh no, you don’t!” he protested and took off running, Dick laughing and following only a step behind.



Batman and Robin gazed out over the rooftops of Gotham, eyes peeled for any signs of the Siren. Research on Gotham’s newest villain had turned up information that made their already difficult job, well, just that much more unpleasant. She had struck in all the major cities: Rome, London, Paris, Madrid, Star City, Los Angeles, Metropolis, each time leaving with a veritable treasure trove of jewels and not a clue as to where she was going to appear next.

And that seemed to be all she wanted--anything that was bright and shiny, anything that sparkled and glittered, anything that was multifaceted and weighed one carat or more. Money didn’t interest her. Death, destruction--not her cup of tea. Just. . . jewels. It was almost a relief to have a villain around with such a simple, straightforward goal.

Not that they wouldn’t do everything in their power to stop her, but she was practically a pleasure to have in Gotham--if only it weren’t for her habit of using innocents to carry out her dirty work.

All of the Siren’s heists had been perpetrated by men, and the occasional woman, who were apparently hypnotized and then induced to steal for her. The victims of these crimes swore they were never aware of their actions until it was all over, and even then, the only thing they remembered was hearing the most beautiful sound. Everything after that--specifically the crimes they committed--was a blank.

“So, do you think she’s a true siren?”

Batman’s eyes flickered towards Robin, then returned to surveying the city.

Robin was sitting with his legs hanging over the edge of the roof and trying to remain diligent while resisting his increasing urge to yawn. Feeling a bit antsy after the long hours of doing nothing but stopping the occasional mugger while they waited to see if the Siren would make an appearance, he needed to do something, anything, even if it was make conversation with unwilling ears.

“Isn’t that what the sirens did?” he continued. “Lure sailors to their destruction through their songs, forcing them to wreck their ships on the rocks around their island? But I thought the sirens’ island was supposed to be located off the coast of Italy, so I wonder what she’s doing loose on this side of the world. I wonder if there are more of them. After all, they’re ‘sirens’--plural. Are her sisters wandering around somewhere?”

“She isn’t real,” Batman said darkly, a note of exasperation in his voice.

“Then how is she doing it? How is she controlling men with her voice?” Robin quickly turned to Batman with a calculating look in his eyes. “And why weren’t you affected?”

“Perhaps my will is stronger than hers.”

“Yeah, right,” he snorted. “She probably just didn’t want you. She probably heard what a pain in the—”

Robin felt a chill run down his spine and immediately snapped his jaw shut.

“Smart move,” rumbled the voice behind him, and Robin glared at him, then sighed, kicking his feet against the edge of the building.

“Why is it all the loonies have to come here?” he grumbled.

“Well, they do say like attracts like.”

Both Bat and Bird turned around at the new voice, annoyed at being caught unawares. Ready to attack, the duo hesitated when they saw who was standing there.

“How do you do that?” Robin asked, irritated that everyone in the world could walk without making a sound--everyone except him.

“What are you doing here?” Batman demanded of the young man who looked like a polished version of Robin Hood, complete with a longbow in one hand and a full quiver of arrows on his back.

Though, he doubted Robin Hood’s skin ever had that golden glow, or that infamous thief of Sherwood Forest was an expert at the martial arts.

“And they actually let you walk around in those things?” Robin asked, eyeing the green tights with a distinct look of horror, then glanced down at himself and flushed. “Never mind.”

“Actually, it’s the bow and arrows that draw the most attention, security being what it is these days. Still, the tights do garner a few looks,” the Green Arrow added with a shudder, “and the stares I get regarding those are far more uncomfortable than the ones the bow receives.”

“I can imagine,” Batman said, a wry note in his voice. “Why are you here, Connor?”

The young man shrugged, glancing across the skyline. “I heard an old friend of Star City’s decided to pay a visit to Gotham, so I thought I’d stop by and see if I could lend a hand.”

“You’re referring to the Siren.”

“As she was nicknamed by the media,” Connor nodded. “No one knows what her true name is, or what her origins are. She just appeared one day with her hordes of brainwashed thieves and began helping herself to the world’s riches.”

“You and your father weren’t able to stop her?”

“Dad did detain her for a bit,” he said, green eyes meeting steely blue with a hint of mirth, “and from what dad remembers, she has a lovely voice and they spent a wonderful night together, but that’s all he knows. After that, she was gone.”

Batman’s lips twitched in the closest he got to a smile as he returned the archer’s gaze. “Trust Ollie to get seduced by his target.”

“He claims it was worth it, though never in Dinah’s presence,” Connor said, voice filled with warmth for the father who, even if Connor didn’t always approve, could do no wrong--no matter who he happened to be doing, “She was somewhat. . . less than pleased about the situation.”

“I can imagine,” he said, inwardly flinching as he imagined her reaction to Ollie’s infidelity--even if it wasn’t entirely consensual.

“Still,” Connor continued, “I’ll be happier once I see the Siren behind bars. Or locked in a soundproof room. Whatever keeps her out of trouble.”

“I think that’ll make us all happy,” Robin agreed, then shrugged as he looked at the buildings around them. “We just have to find her first.”

“I don’t think she’ll be making an appearance tonight,” Batman said, noticing the lightening of the eastern sky, and Connor nodded.

“She tends to work at night when there’s no one around. I wish I’d gotten here sooner, but it looks like the hunt is over for now. Shall I meet up with you here tomorrow?”

“Where are you going to stay?” Robin asked, and the young man smiled at him.

“I have an old friend who lives nearby. If you need me,” he said, returning to the Batman, “you know how to contact me.”

Batman gave a sharp nod and the three parted ways, each one vaulting off the roof, the two caped figures soaring through the air while the other swung his way to the ground.



“Will? Would you get that?” Dick called from the bathroom, face still partially covered in shaving cream.

“Yeah, just a sec,” Will answered, finishing the paragraph he was reading in the paper before making his way to the door. He opened it and with one look, his jaw dropped.

Standing in the hallway was every gay man’s wet dream--tall, beautiful, blond hair, green eyes, fully kissable lips, and a body designed for licking chocolate off of. And then the wet dream smiled, and Will felt his legs turn to jello.

“Hi. I’m not sure I have the right place. I was looking for Richard Grayson?”

“You’re. . . you. . . no. . . yes. . .” As the smile grew, the green eyes twinkling with amusement, Will turned a bright red and gave himself a mental slap.

Stop making a fool of yourself, and start wondering what the wet dream is doing looking for your boyfriend, he yelled inside his head, quickly getting all his mental and vocal facilities into working order.

“Sorry,” he said, returning the wet dream’s smile. “You caught me before I’ve had my coffee. You are in the right place. Dick’s just finishing getting ready for work. Would you like to come in?”

“Yes, thank you,” the wet dream replied, and Will stepped aside, allowing him entry into the apartment and giving himself a chance to get a quick glance at the wet dream’s back.

Just as delectable as his front. Damnit.

“Um. . . Dick? You’ve got company,” he called as he closed the door, while their guest set his large duffel bag on the floor against the wall.

“On my way,” Dick said as he emerged from the bedroom fully dressed and ready for work. Upon seeing who his company was, his face split into a huge grin. “Connor!”

Will watched as Dick and the wet dream threw themselves into each other’s arms in an enthusiastic embrace. He quickly took a mental snapshot of the scene, knowing that he would probably never see anything in his life more beautiful than the two men before him. Also, in the eventuality that he and Dick broke up, this image would definitely live on as one of his fondest fantasies.

“Connor, what are you doing here?” Dick asked, pulling away to take a quick look at his friend, checking for any damage he should know about.

“I was passing through town and thought I’d stop by, see how you were.”

“Just passing through?” Dick asked, arching an eyebrow, and Connor grinned.

“All right. I’m here on business, but that doesn’t mean I’m any less eager to see you.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said with a triumphant smile. “So, how long are you here for? Where are you staying?”

“I don’t know yet how long I’ll be here, and as for where I’m staying. . .” he gave a little shrug and Dick’s face immediately grew stern.

“Problem solved--you're staying here with me.”

Connor shook his head. “I am not going to impose on you like that.”

“It’s not an imposition, I swear. Right, Will?” Dick asked, glancing at his boyfriend, then realized what he’d forgotten. “Oh, shit. I should probably introduce you two. Will, this is an old friend of mine, Connor Hawke. Connor, Will Wyatt.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Connor said as they shook hands.

“You, too,” Will said somewhat breathlessly. Connor’s handshake was gentle, yet firm, with odd calluses on his fingers. The instant their skin touched, Will felt a strange buzzing spring throughout his veins, as if every cell was just now coming to life.

Connor’s eyes widened, unconsciously tightening his grasp when Will would have pulled away.

Dick, preoccupied with gathering everything he would need for the day, didn’t notice that his friend and his lover held onto each other’s hands a little longer than was necessary. “Will,” he began, and the two remembered where they were, quickly dropping their arms to their sides, “would you show Connor around? I know the apartment’s not much,” he sent an apologetic smile in Connor’s direction, “but it does its job.”

“Considering I was raised in a monastery, this place feels like a luxury condo to me,” Connor chuckled, and Will glanced sharply at him.

“You’re a monk?”

“I was,” he nodded.

“A Buddhist monk, no less,” Dick added as he paused by the front door. “He’s one of the most spiritual people I’ve ever met. But don’t let him fool you--he's also one of the toughest men I know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Will said with a wry grin as Connor lowered his eyes modestly at the praise. Dick took this opportunity to grab onto Will and pulled him in for a quick kiss.

“I’ll see you after work.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“Don’t forget to wear a hardhat.”

“Stay away from stray bullets.”

The two smiled, kissed again, and then Dick was gone. After the door shut, Will turned to look at Connor, who was watching him with shadows in his green eyes. The two stared at each other, the tension growing until it filled the room with the density of a San Francisco fog.

“I will never do anything to hurt Dick,” Connor said softly.

“Neither will I.”

“So. . .”

“So,” Will echoed, not knowing what more there was to be said, and shrugged. “Is there anything I can get you? Are you tired? Would you like something to eat?”

“I am fine, thank you.”

“Well, if you need anything,” he said, picking up his jacket, “help yourself. Bathroom’s down the hall. Towels are in the closet. Food and drink are in the kitchen.”

“Where will you be?”

“I have to go to work. I’d stay, but I’ve got a row of Victorian houses we’re restoring I need to check in on,” Will said as he started to babble, feeling as if he needed to find an excuse--several excuses--as to why he would leave Connor on his own, “and then we’re almost finished putting up the framework for this new bank, and I’ve got to look in on the finishing touches for the annex to the City Hall—”

“Can I come with you?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, and Connor smiled.

“Thank you.”

Will held open the door for Connor then shut it behind them, taking out his key to lock it. He had no idea what he was doing, or why he would be taking this man with him. He couldn’t understand why a complete stranger would be rousing such strong feelings in him. He just prayed Connor wouldn’t be staying long in Bludhaven, or he might end up doing something he’d regret.

Or something he would really, really enjoy, he amended, watching Connor walk down the hall, and then regret.

Connor, meanwhile, had closed his eyes and was praying for something he’d never had to pray for before--that he have the patience not to throw Will onto the nearest flat surface and bury himself so deep he never saw daylight again.

Accidentally catching each other’s eyes, the two men exchanged nervous smiles and prepared themselves for one of the most trying days of their lives.

[Completed April 5, 2004]