This is more in the vein of the Golden Age - Silver Age comics where Dick and Bruce get along really well. I'm not very good with angst!

Disclaimer: DC owns these guys, not I.


The Penguin Cooks Up Some Trouble

Dick Grayson sighed and slouched down lower in his seat. He was really regretting ever having expressed his interest in birds. If he hadn't, he could be at home with Alfred, eating popcorn and watching old movies (because God forbid Bruce ever let him go out unsupervised with non-superhero teens); instead he was here, in a tuxedo, sitting next to Bruce at the annual Gotham City Audubon Society Auction.

To be fair, it hadn't been a completely horrible night. The food had been pretty (not quite at Alfred standards, but, then, what was?) and the keynote address on the fighting techniques of ostriches had been awesome. However, the auction was interminable. There must have been hundreds of items and it didn't help that the auctioneer was allowing people to bid in increments of $1,000 rather than five or even ten thousand.

And it wasn't much better out in the lobby. Sure, he could get all the free Zesti Cola he wanted from the open bar, but, invariably, there was some society lady there who recognized him and had to come over and pinch his cheek and "oooh" and "ahhh" over how big he was getting. And yeah, he was getting big. He was thirteen (as of last month) and in seventh grade. He was way too old to be petted like a puppy by a bunch of over-perfumed women. But Bruce and Alfred would be very disappointed if he said anything rude like that, so he just decided to grin and bear it, slipping a smile and a "yes, ma'am" in when appropriate.

But Dick had never been so bored in his life. This was a thousand times worse than that big cat charity auction Bruce had taken him to a few months ago. At least there he had been able to tease Bruce about Selina. He had seen his efforts well rewarded; Bruce was sporting a pretty healthy blush by the end of the evening. But this – this was torture.

Dick tugged on Bruce's jacket. "Bruce, can we go now?"

"Go? We haven't even bought anything! Besides, it's only been an hour or so."

"An hour or so!" Dick had to struggle to keep his voice down. He pushed back his jacket sleeve and shoved his wristwatch in Bruce's face. "It's been at least three hours!"

Bruce snatched Dick's wrist and pulled it away from his face. "Well, we're not leaving. Just day dream or something."

Dick sighed, miffed that Bruce was ignoring his pain.

Sensing Dick was a tad peeved, Bruce leaned down and whispered, "Think up a route for patrol tonight."

"Really?" Dick whispered, super excited.

"Yes." Bruce nodded vigorously, turning back to the auction. "Go ahead."

Dick eagerly wiggled into a comfortable position and began to think. Bruce had to admit it was rather amusing. You could practically see him going over the streets in his head.

Granted Bruce would never alter his patrol route to suite the whims of a thirteen-year-old, especially one as adventurous as Dick, but the kid didn't need to know that. Let him dream.

But the auction continued to move at a snail's pace, much to Dick's chagrin. After he had created three different patrol routes in his mind, he decided to switch to day dreaming, thinking about his (much older) ex-babysitter Barbara Gordon, on whom his newly manufactured hormones had a bit of a crush. All of a sudden, he noticed that Bruce was jerking his arm around.

"Are you buying something?" Dick hissed.

Bruce gave him a look. "Of course. This is an auction, you know."

"But..." Dick was cut off by the auctioneer announcing the item was "Sold! To Mr. Wayne for $200,000!"

Dick's mouth hung open in shock. "That's insane!"

"It's for a good cause."

"So can we go now? I mean, you bought something."

"Not yet. There's only ten items left," Bruce wiggled the auction booklet in his hand, "then I have to pay. Then we can leave."

Dick groaned. "Ten items! That could take an hour. This auctioneer is soooo slow."

Bruce had to agree on that. "Why don't you go get some cola?"

Dick pondered whether it would be better to stay with Bruce and be bored or be accosted by middle-aged women while sipping a Zesti. He decided on the soft drink, especially when he remembered something else.

"Can I have some money?" he asked Bruce, fixing the billionaire with his best "pretty-please" look.

Bruce looked unconvinced. "Why do you need money? The soda's free."

"For the bake sale. Some ladies are selling treats out there, and I really want some chocolate cake."

"Fine." Bruce reached into his tux jacket and took out his wallet. "How much do you need?" he asked, reaching in and fanning out a few bills.

"This will work!" Dick slipped his smaller fingers in between Bruce's and grabbed whatever bill was closest. He then pocketed the cash, deftly leaped over Bruce's legs, and scurried out to the lobby.

Bruce frowned slightly as he looked at the bills he had left. Dick had gotten away with a fifty! "I better get some change," he thought.

A little over an hour later, Bruce emerged from the auditorium holding a box. Finally, the auction was over. He glanced around the lobby and finally saw his ward sitting on a recessed bench, slumped against the wall.

Bruce walked over to Dick, stood in front of the boy, and held out his hand. Dick reached out and gave him a high five.

"Where's my change?" Bruce asked.

"What change?"

"Don't tell me you ate fifty-dollars' worth of baked goods!" Bruce groaned a little at the mere thought of it. Alfred would have his head.

Dick grinned slyly at Bruce's worried expression. 'Not yet!" he announced, gesturing at two boxes sitting next to him on the bench. "The ladies are letting me take home an entire blueberry pie and a lava cake!" Dick looked especially eager for the lava cake. Bruce guessed that Dick had purchased the blueberry pie to placate him. He could hear Dick now, claiming "But there's fruit in it!" when he wanted to eat some for breakfast (or worse, make Bruce eat some for breakfast).

"So what did you eat?"

"Ummm, let's see. A piece of carrot cake," Dick paused to give Bruce a "see, it's almost healthy" look before continuing, "and some bunt cake and a fruit tart and some brownies."

"How many brownies?"

"Teeeee-"

"Dick." Bruce used his most serious "don't you lie to me" voice.

"Twenty..." Bruce gave Dick the look again. "Five."

"Twenty five?" Bruce asked.

"Give or take a few."

Bruce shook his head. "You are going to have a stomach ache, chum."

"Nah. I'm a growing boy. And I need brownies."

Before Bruce could reply, a woman came over. "Oh, Mr. Wayne, thank you very much for your generous donation to the Junior Audubon Society."

"My donation?"

She smiled and gestured at the empty table. "The bake sale."

"Oh, yes, of course." Bruce gave her a dazzling smile. "You're very welcome."

"The children will appreciate it, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce's ears pricked up at the word "children."

"Exactly what is the Junior Audubon Society, Ms...?"

"Higgins, Sandra Higgins." The two shook hands. "The Junior Audubon Society is for children ages 13 to 18."

"Perfect! I need to sign Dick up." He indicated his drowsy-looking ward. "Dick just turned thirteen a few weeks ago, in March."

Sandra Higgins clapped her hands. "Wonderful! I'll sign him up right away, Mr. Wayne." She smiled radiantly at Dick. "Now don't you worry, Dick, I'll make sure you're a member by May 15. That way you'll be eligible for our bird-watching summer camp. It's great! I know you won't want to miss it."

Dick smiled politely. "Wonderful. Thank you, Ms. Higgins. I appreciate it."

With a final delighted smile, Ms. Higgins left them.

Dick lazily looked up at Bruce. "Touché, my good man."

Bruce offered a hand to help his overstuffed ward stand up. "That'll teach you to spend fifty dollars on brownies."

"And cake and pie!" Dick protested, gathering up his boxes.

"And cake and pie," Bruce amended, herding Dick towards the door.

Alfred was already waiting for them at the curb. With a flourish he opened the door, and Dick and Bruce darted inside. As Alfred drove away, he asked, "So what did you purchase this evening, sirs?"

"Yeah, Bruce, what did you get?" Dick asked, leaning towards his guardian.

Bruce smiled and handed the box to Dick. "Open it."

Gingerly, Dick took the box and set it on his lap. He carefully opened the lid and peeked inside. A mass of tissue paper greeted him. After peeling back a few protective layers, Dick saw a golden bird. He reached inside and drew it out.

"Wow," was all he could say. "It's incredible."

And so it was. In his hands Dick held a solid gold robin, slightly larger than life size. The bird had diamonds for eyes and its red breast was a mass of inlaid rubies. Its carved golden wings were spotted with dozens of other precious gemstones.

"You like it?" Bruce asked.

Dick nodded, momentarily transfixed by the gleaming gold and jewels. "Yeah, it's amazing. So beautiful." Dick titled the robin so that the glow of the streetlamps reflected off its ruby-encrusted breast. The rubies flashed deep red in the light. "These rubies are gorgeous."

Bruce nodded in agreement. "And you know what else?" He held up the auction booklet. "Rumor has it P.T. Barnum used to own that thing."

For the second time that night, Dick's mouth dropped open in shock. "The P.T. Barnum? Of Barnum and Bailey's Circus?"

"The one and only, kid."

"Wow." Dick held the robin in his hands, staring at it, and feeling a thrill. He was touching something P.T. Barnum had touched!

After a few minutes, Bruce casually commented, "Well, I'm glad you like it. You know, since it's yours and all."

"Mine?" Dick's voice broke a little in surprise and he blushed a little. Stupid puberty.

"Of course," Bruce said. "I can't think of anyone more suited to own a circus-robin than you. Can you?"

Dick just grinned and shook his head no. Quickly replacing the robin it its protective box, he launched himself across the backseat and hugged Bruce tight. "Thanks, Bruce. I really love it."

"I know," Bruce said, embracing Dick back. "As soon as I saw it in the program, I knew you had to have it. I can't think of anyone more worthy."

But the Penguin could. And no one had noticed him that night, lurking in the shadows of the Audubon auction, keeping careful note of who bought what. Soon he'd be doing some shopping of his own.


The auction was somewhat inspired by the BTAS episode "Time Out of Joint."