Disclaimer: I do not own Barbara Gordon/Oracle, Dinah Lance/Black Canary, Dick Grayson/Nightwing, Tim Drake/Robin, Bruce Wayne/Batman, Ra's al Ghul, and Alfred all belong to DC and Time Warner. This story takes place after BoP #21, so Babs and Dinah know each other. And without further ado...

The Ol' Switcheroo
by Smitty

She sat with her back to the building, sipping her sangria sparingly. The light Spanish breeze ruffled the dark tendrils of hair framing her face, and glanced over her shoulders.

"Well?" she asked, turning back to her companion. "Do you find my arrangements satisfactory?"

"I find everything quite in order," he said, smoothly. "Quite a pleasure doing business with you, Senorita Dupin."

"Likewise, of course," she replied, coolly, pushing her drink aside. "I trust you have--"

"Right here." He removed a flat plastic case from his inner jacket pocket and pushed it to the center of the table.

She slid the case in front of her, taking care not to brush the man's hand. She popped it open and saw the disk inside. Unmarked; no indication as to its contents. She opened the laptop perched in front of her and quickly inserted the disk, scanning its contents.

"Excellent," she murmured, scanning the code running across the screen. "You've been most helpful, Senor Vachierra. Now," she continued, shutting the portable computer and pulling it into her lap, "if you'll excuse me."

"Of course." Ever the gentleman, Vachierra stood and inclined his head at the young woman who had just made him a rather rich man. "Oh," he exclaimed, surprised when she didn't stand, "I'm sorry, Senorita Dupin, I did not realize you..."

'Senorita Dupin' smiled up at him from her wheelchair. "It was an accident," she said, lightly. "Please don't worry about it." And with that, she was gone.

Dinah Laurel Lance swung around in her desk chair, her injured leg hooked over the arm. Not a single call, and for that, she was thankful. She didn't even know what half these gadgets did, and that was just fine with her, thank you very much. She'd found Oracle's collection of MP3s, which made for good background music, and had spent a half hour happily bouncing around Amazon.com, having decided that it was never too early to start her Christmas shopping. And now, she was bored.

"Dinah, it's Oracle."

Dinah perked up. "I'm here, Oracle."

"Dinah, are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm sitting right here, just like you told me to do. No one's called or--"

"Dinah, if you're sitting there trying to figure out why I can't hear you, either push the microphone button on the transmission unit, or put on the headset."

Right. The headset. Dinah quickly scanned the worktable and located the headset. She fit it on her head and spoke into the attached microphone.


"Ah-ha. See, I told you, technology is not difficult."

"Yeah, and the moon is made of green cheese."


"I don't want to know," Dinah interrupted. "So, did you get it?"

"Yep. Reverse the transfer."

"Ok, that's what you showed me, when I--"


"Kidding, kidding. Yes, I remember this one." Dinah quickly used Oracle's equipment to freeze and reverse the transfer, moving $200,000 from the accounts of Vachierra's employers, rather than to them. "You know, this really does come in handy--"

"Don't even think about it," Oracle told her, mildly. "You need my program, and you need the link to the other guy's account."

Dinah sighed loudly enough for Oracle to hear her opinion on the matter.

"Anyway," Oracle continued, "my plane leaves in an hour, so I'm going off-line to get something to eat and check in. I'll talk to you when I get to Monaco. Hold down the fort."

"Ciao, baby."

"Oh, and Dinah?"


"I'm going to be transferring the disk to the computer sitting all the way over on the left, so make sure you press ok to accept the transfer when I find a connection, and for crying out loud, don't take the disk out of the computer, ok?"

"No problemo, Boss-Lady," Dinah said, cheerfully.

Continue To Chapter One

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