Night had fallen over Gotham City, and with it a blanket of darkness from which emerged those who would take advantage of its protection to break society’s laws. On most nights, the thought that Batman was also out there in the darkness was enough to give many of those pause, but for tonight at least a free pass had been issued in the form of a front page photo in one of the city’s more irresponsible papers, a photo showing the Caped Crusader on a case in far-off London. As feared at the Dark Knight was, not even he could be in two places at once.

One thing that those who would take advantage of his absence failed to realize, however, was that while Batman was Gotham’s foremost champion he was in no way the only one. Second only to the Masked Manhunter was the young man who fought by his side under the guise of Robin. With the senior half of the Dynamic Duo absent, the Teen Wonder was more than anxious to demonstrate to such the error of their folly.

In the few hours since he had begun his patrol, the red, green and yellow garbed adventurer had prevented a half dozen muggings, an equal number of break-ins, and uncounted instances of just showing the flag – letting people on both sides of society know he was out there.

Gotham’s Finest was also on the job; even if in many cases all they were left to do was collect a string of would be perpetrators bound in batcuffs. The word spread quickly around the city in an almost ripple effect. For every crime Robin actually stopped, others still in the planning stages were abandoned. Still, as in most situations, there were always those who didn’t get the word – or were simply too stupid or arrogant to pay attention to it.

With dawn still a few hours away, the seventeen year old crime fighter found himself atop a low rooftop, watching a quartet of leather-jacketed street hoods in the alley below. Looking like something out of an old Fifties motorcycle gang movie, two of the group had just used a small sledgehammer to break the lock on the back door of a curio shop. A store this small, dating back to when this was a much nicer neighborhood, seemed a poor choice of target, especially since there was a much more attractive one, in the form of a pawn shop, just around the corner. Still, whatever the reason for their choice, it was a crime to be prevented.

Attaching a line to a batarang from his utility belt, Robin sent it flying across the alley, where it wrapped around a protruding steel pipe. He gave it a hard tug to be sure it was secure, then leapt down from his perch with the same ease that he once exhibited as the youngest member of the Flying Graysons.

As he dropped, he simultaneously drew two capsules from his belt and sent them hurling ahead of him. His booted feet slammed into the backs of the two closest hoods just as the flash- bang and smoke capsule exploded. The force of his hundred and seventy-five pound body sent his targets crashing to the ground, while the confusion generated by his diversion gave him time to pivot once he was on the ground and face the other two.

Despite the spots in front of his eyes, the hood with the sledgehammer lunged at the Teen Wonder with murderous intent. A carefully aimed karate blow disarmed the assailant, followed by a side kick that sent him slamming into the brick-covered wall.

By the time the thug hit the ground, Robin had turned to face the remaining member of the quartet. Learning from his friend’s example, this one approached more guardedly; giving his eyes an added few moments to clear, assuming a stance that demonstrated he had at least a rudimentary knowledge of the martial arts. In the end, it did him little good as, under a quick succession of well placed blows, he joined his confederate down on the ground.

Only then did Robin realize he’d made a potentially serious mistake. Out of the corner of his mask, he spied three more similarly garbed teenagers at the mouth of the alley. Evidently they had been left out on the avenue on lookout and had been attracted by the noise of the flash bang. Unskilled fighters that they probably were, their number, combined with the first two he had only knocked to the ground, could prove a problem.

A swift kick that impacted against the side of the head of the first gang member to come within reach gave the Teen Wonder just enough of an opportunity to exercise the better part of valor. Grabbing hold of his still attached line, he pulled himself upward and, thanks to his well toned leg muscles, was actually able to run up the side of the wall, putting himself out of reach.

Unfortunately, a random element suddenly intervened that forced him to suddenly abandon whatever plan he might have come up with in the next few moments. The back door of the curio shop opened and Robin heard a woman’s voice call out. Tilting his head in the direction of the voice, Robin saw a middle-aged woman, presumably the owner of the shop, stepping out into the alleyway – directly in between the two pairs of still standing hoodlums.

Robin shouted a warning for the woman to get back inside, even as he formulated a renewed plan of attack. Before she could react to his outcry, however, the two closest hoods saw their opportunity and, each taking hold of one of her arms, dragged her out into the alley.

Letting go of his line, Robin dropped to the ground where he was immediately set upon by the first two hoods he had felled. The senior members of the gang, both were older and bigger than the Teen Wonder. Their attack was furious, but in the end long practiced fighting skills proved true, as he freed himself from their grasp and then counterattacked with a quick combination of blows that once more sent both to the ground. This time, he doubted that they would they would be getting up as quickly.

Not waiting to make sure, Robin spun around to face the final two, hoping that they hadn’t harmed the woman in the time it had taken him to dispatch their fellows. He was stunned to discover one of them tossed into an open garbage can like yesterday’s trash and the other being slammed into the side wall by the curio shop owner. His surprise then turned first to astonishment, then to admiration as the woman pivoted in a perfectly choreographed move and executed an impressive set of combat moves that even Batman couldn’t have found fault with. The final member of the gang never knew what hit him.

“Wow!” Robin exclaimed, perhaps a bit too loudly, as he watched the last attacker fall.

At the sound of his voice, the woman whirled around, her body coming to rest in a battle stance, ready to meet a new challenge. It was only when she recognized the source of the voice that she finally began to relax,

“Are you all right?” the woman asked as she stepped closer to Robin, becoming more illuminated as she stepped directly under the overhead alley light.

“I think that was supposed to be my line,” Robin said with a smile as he closed the distance between the two of them.

“I’m fine,” she simply replied.

Now that he had the chance, Robin got a much better look at the woman and saw that some, but not all, of his initial impressions about her were true. She looked to be in her early fifties, with just a touch of grey in her dark hair. In excellent shape for her age; Robin considered that she might be a retired cop or perhaps even ex-military. Certainly, the moves she’d just demonstrated hadn’t come from a lifetime selling bric-a-brac.

Excusing himself for a few moments, Robin quickly cuffed all of the hoodlums together, putting the last open cuff around a heavy steel fence. Then he contacted the police dispatcher and advised them that he had another pick-up. Told that they would be there in a few minutes, he passed that information along to the woman, who had been examining the broken lock on her back door.

“Do me a favor, would you?” she asked as she decided that the lock was a lost cause and would have to be replaced, “When the police arrive, leave my name out of the report. It would be more trouble than it’s worth if they started asking me a lot of unwanted questions.”

Without waiting for an answer, the woman then went back into the store.

Robin wondered what those unwanted questions might have been, but saw no reason not to honor the strange request. Whatever her reason for wanting to avoid questions from the police, it was her own business.

The “paddy wagon” arrived a few minutes later and as the gang members were herded inside, none seemed inclined to contest Robin’s version of events. He really hadn’t thought any of them would. It was one thing to be taken down by one of those “costume freaks”, as they sometimes referred to Batman and himself, it was another all together to have been done in by some old lady. That was hardly the kind of story that was going to enhance their street cred.

Once the police had collected their new charges, Robin found himself again alone in the alley. He decided to make sure that the woman was indeed as fine as she had said before taking off. Knocking first on the no longer locked door, Robin opened it and stepped inside, calling out to announce his presence as he did so.

The store owner responded from down the hall, saying that she was in the office and that he should come on back.

Robin did so and, as he walked down the passageway, he glanced right and left at the collection of photographs that lined the walls. Most were taken a long time ago, but still recognizable as the neighborhood around them. One in particular caught his notice, as it was the front of the store on the day it opened, the cars parked in front dating the picture as having been taken in the mid-1950s. Obviously the shop was older than Robin had originally thought. He wondered if it was a family business, opened by the woman’s parents, or perhaps even her grandparents, or if it was something she took over somewhere along the way.

“The police are all gone,” he said as he reached the office, “and I just wanted to make sure that you were okay before I took off.”

“That was very nice of you,” the woman said as she got up from behind the desk, “but I’m fine, really. The day hasn’t come yet that I can’t handle a few young punks like that.”

As she had gotten up, Robin noticed an open bottle of whiskey on the desk, along with a full shot glass. The woman followed his gaze and once she was fully erect picked up the glass and drained it in one swallow, offering Robin a shot as she refilled her own. It was an offer he declined.

“Back in my day, losers like that wouldn’t have lasted a week in this neighborhood,” she said as she drained the second glass in similar fashion. “The people who lived here wouldn’t have stood for it.”

If she was an example of what those people were like, Robin had no doubt that was true. She picked up the bottle and looked about to pour herself a third drink, but then seemed to think better of it and instead put the cover back on the bottle.

Not wanting to stare, Robin let his eyes wander around the room, the walls of which were also covered with old photographs. Unlike those in the outer hall, these were of people, both individuals and small groups, rather than neighborhood scenes. But, as with the others, the backgrounds and style of dress dated them as well.

One picture on the center of the far wall, looking almost as if positioned in a place of honor, caught the Teen Wonder’s attention. Unsure of what he was looking at, he took a few steps closer to get a better look. The woman saw his interest and watched with a small measure of amusement as he did so.

His eyes opened wide as he realized that the grouping of young men and women, sitting around a large round table, were all wearing costumes. And not just any costumes, but ones that were legendary, and for the most part had not been seen in his lifetime.

“Holy generations,” he exclaimed, unable to contain himself, “that’s the Justice Society!”

“Is it now?” the woman smiled as she stepped closer to both Robin and the photograph.

Wonder and admiration filled his eyes as ran his gaze across the figures in the old black and white photograph. Most were instantly recognizable, while others remained unknown to him, having disappeared long before even Batman had first put on the cowl. There, at the center of the table, sat the original Green Lantern and Flash, along with Hourman and the Sandman, heroes right out of the history books. Slowly, almost reverently, Robin ran a gloved finger across the bottom of the photograph, remembering what he knew about each of those original “mystery men and women”.

When he reached a dark haired woman in black, who looked barely out of her teens, he suddenly stopped. The costume was only vaguely familiar and it took a very long minute before he associated it with a name. Yet, even before the name came to him, the realization that the woman in the photograph and the one standing behind him were one and the same hit him like a thunderbolt.

“This is you,” he said excitedly as he turned back to face the curio shop owner. “You were the Black Rose.”

“These days I’m more likely to answer to Maggie McGuire,” she said.

“But this had to have been taken – “ Robin started to say, turning his head to indicate the photograph.

“A long time ago,” Maggie said with a smile.

“But that would make you __”

“Old enough to collect social security,” she quipped, adding, “barely.”

“But how __”

“I’ll explain,” she said, “if you promise not to say but again.”

Robin promised and sat on the edge of the desk as he gave her his full attention.

Maggie seemed to blank out for a few seconds, but Robin knew she was really looking back at an event of years past. She had only been a sometimes member of the JSA, she said, in the last few months of their original incarnation. Her participation was discouraged after they discovered that she was barely of age, and later forgotten in most histories of the period. A masked adventurer like Robin himself, she never had any special abilities other than the combat skills taught to her by her father and uncles, all of whom had been in what would later evolve into Special Forces after the Second World War.

Still, she had been lucky enough to have been with the team during what was perhaps their most important adventure. The one in which the Society, as well as some of their spouses, had been exposed to a unique form of chronal energy – radiation which had retarded the aging process to such an extent that while her birth certificate might make her sixty-two, she still had the vitality of a woman half that.

“Incredible,” Robin said, having experienced enough strange things in his own short career to have no doubt her story was true. “I guess you probably didn’t need my help at all tonight.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Maggie grinned, her eyes again taking on that long ago look for a brief moment, “but it was fun, I can tell you that. It brought back some old memories of when I was still in the game.”

“Well, I’m glad I was able to help, even if you didn’t need it,” Robin said, “but I really should finish out my patrol, even if the sun is going to be up soon.”

“I just had a great idea,” Maggie said, her face suddenly coming alive with excitement. “Why don’t I go with you on patrol, just for old times’ sake?”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Robin said.

“Nonsense, it’ll be fun,” she insisted. “You already saw how well I can handle myself. Just give me a few minutes to change.”

As Maggie disappeared up the staircase leading to the small apartment over the store, Robin knew this was a really bad idea. What he should do, he told himself, was take off before she came back down. But curiosity got the better of him, and he justified his waiting by the thought that once she came down here in her old costume, the former crime fighter would realize what a silly idea this was and give it up. If she didn’t, he would find a way to talk her out of it.

“Ready or not, here I come,” Maggie announced from the staircase just before she bounded back into the office.

Whatever thoughts Robin had carefully cultivated about why Maggie should abandon the idea of going on patrol promptly vanished from his head the moment she stepped back into the room. He opened his mouth, but the words simply weren’t there.

Maggie now wore a low cut, skin tight black body suit, with a matching leather belt and jacket. A stylized black rose adored the silver buckle of her belt and a mask not much bigger than Robin’s covered her face. Lightweight boots with steel tips replaced the comfortable shoes she had earlier been wearing, and small leather compartments along the back of her belt seemed almost a predecessor of the Dynamic Duo’s utility belts.

All the Teen Wonder could think of at that moment was that there were teenage girls in his school that wouldn’t have looked as good in that outfit. It was impossible to believe that this woman was old enough to be a grandmother.

“Shall we get going? The night’s no longer young,” Maggie said, heading for the back door and giving Robin no chance to suggest otherwise.

With no longer any alternative but to take Maggie along on patrol, because in actuality she was now leading him, Robin tried to keep their early morning excursion as uneventful as possible. Following the mental map he carried in his head, he steered her into one of the most tranquil parts of town, one where almost nothing ever happened.

Unfortunately, the very fact that it was a quiet area where almost nothing ever happened proved to be the very reason certain mob leaders had picked it as a neutral site to facilitate an exchange of cash and high-powered weaponry. It was only by chance that Robin and the Black Rose came across them, but once they did, it was impossible not to get involved.

“If anything happens to her, Bruce is going to kill me,” Robin thought as he again hurled a batarang through the air and leapt into battle.

As it turned out, she wasn’t the one he had to worry about.

“Careful, that ankle is still sore,” Maggie said as she led the Teen Wonder into the back room of the curio shop.

“I’m fine, really,” Robin said as he tried to put some weight back on his twisted ankle, only to again discover the fallacy in his words, punctuated by a low groan.

“You heard what the paramedics said,” Maggie said as she guided him onto the couch. “They said it was only a sprain, but that you had to stay off it for at least a few hours. Now, since you declined their offer to take you to the hospital, and I obviously can’t drive you home, you’re going to have to stay here. At least until you can make arrangements for someone to come and pick you up.”

“I still can’t believe I tripped over that exposed water pipe,” Robin said as he dropped down onto the large sofa.

“Shit happens, kid,” Maggie grinned, “to the best of us. I remember one time, Green Lantern, the original one, not the space cop you have running around now, got himself knocked cold by a falling tree branch. Can you imagine that, having the most powerful weapon in the universe at your disposal, and a rotted piece of wood takes you out of the fight.”

There was more to that story, Robin knew, but if the former part time Justice Society member didn’t know that the original GL’s ring was powerless against wood, he wasn’t about to share that information – even at this late date. His mind quickly shifted to the here and now, and who he could call to pick him up.

Batman wasn’t due back from London for two more days, and Alfred had gone with Bruce to England to visit some relatives. There was always Jim Gordon, but he knew the Police Commissioner sometimes had misgivings about Batman having a teenage partner, and he didn’t want to give him any ammunition that could be used in an argument against the fact. He then thought for a brief moment of that new Batgirl, but had no idea of who she really was or even how to contact her. Finally, he considered one of his fellow Teen Titans, but, as he remembered, Kid Flash had communications duty this week, and if Wally learned that the former acrobat had tripped over his own two feet he’d never let him live it down.

“Think of anyone I can call?” Maggie said as she dropped her mask onto the table.

“Not at the moment,” Robin replied, thinking that a few hours crashing on Maggie’s couch was hardly the worst of options.

“Well then, looks like you’re stuck here for a bit,” the older woman said.

“Guess so,” the Teen Wonder said with a grin of acceptance.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Maggie asked.

“Excuse me?” Robin asked.

“I asked if you would like a cup of tea,” Maggie repeated. “I was going to make myself one and it would be no bother to make two.”

“A cup of tea sounds fine,” he replied.

“Fine, I’ll be back in a jiffy,” Maggie smiled. “While you’re waiting, why don’t you make yourself a bit more comfortable? I imagine that costume can be a bit much at times.”