A/N: Dick's about... thirteen?
Alfred turned around to find the entire plate of cookies missing. He sighed.
"Do you really think you can get away with it every time, young man?" He called out to a seemingly empty kitchen, expecting to hear Richard's laughter in reply any second.
Bruce poked his head from behind the kitchen door, "What, I thought you made the cookies to be eaten."
Alfred did a double take. "I- yes- but, you took the cookies? You're eating them?"
Bruce raised his eyebrow, "Was I not allowed to? I'm hardly eight years old any more, Alfred. I can eat as many cookies as I want."
Alfred smiled, shook his head and turned his back on Bruce, muttering softly under his breath, "No, but you were eight years old when you stopped eating them."
A few minutes later, Dick walked in, "Hey Alfie, finished my training and all my homwork's done, and I just came by to – where are my cookies?"
It was a cold December night when Superman visited Batman at the Cave. Alfred entered with refreshments for the Dynamic Duo when he saw the visitor.
"… So I was thinking – Hi, Alfred. How are things?"
"Absolutely fine, Master Clark. How is the Christmas season in Metropolis?"
"It's going brilliantly," he replied as Alfred set down Bruce's plate of high-protein-and-high-energy-thingies and a plate of Christmas cookies for Dick, "Hey, are those Christmas cookies? Ma makes them as well! May I?"
Alfred, thinking that Clark would probably help himself to only one or two, replied, "Of course," as he left to get something else for Clark.
He had baked a whole batch, although that plate was all that remained. He had packed and sent the rest to the various orphanages located around Gotham, Leslie's clinic, and homes of other heroes like Flash, Wonder Woman and Green Lantern. Alfred had kept aside about two dozen cookies for Dick, which would hopefully last until he started baking the next batch.
It was to his dismay that when he came back, Clark had polished off the entire plate of cookies.
"Alfred I gotta tell you, those cookies are amazing! Do you have more?"
"I'm afraid – ah – they were the last of what I had made," Alfred could just picture Dick's face when he found out that his primary source of energy during the holiday season had just been cut off. He couldn't even make more; he didn't have enough ingredients!
"You've got to send me some, if it's not too much trouble, Alfred. Lois would love them too! And I've got to give some to Ma!"
Batman, who was not paying any attention to the conversation until present suddenly looked up and asked, "give what?"
"The cookies!"
"Which cookies?"
"Those cookies, Bruce," Clark rolled his eyes as he gestured to the now empty plate.
"You. Ate. Those. Cookies."
Clark suddenly paled, "… why?"
Suddenly, Dick came bounding down the stairs. He had just cleaned up after patrol – he had taken a shower and was in his pajamas. He said a cheery hello to Superman as he rushed right up to the table where the tray of delights were kept – only to find his plate empty.
"Hey, where are my cookies?"
Clark was too busy avoiding the bat-glare to reply.
It was Boxing Day. Robin was standing on a rooftop on the outskirts of Gotham, with a view overlooking the harbour. He sneaked a glance furtively behind his back, and stayed still, listening for footsteps, or the sound of any grapple gun, or anything that would mean that someone was following him. He ran towards the end of the roof and threw himself off, twisting in mid-air and landing perfectly on the rooftop of the next building. Again, he stood still and repeated the procedure. He continued jumping from roof to roof, until he finally came to the Trigate Bridge, deserted on the post-Christmas holiday.
Once again he checked around for anyone who might sneak up on him. But he didn't find anyone. He was alone.
When he was completely satisfied, he somersaulted onto a platform that was slightly above the normal pedestrian level. In the wee hours of the morning, no one would see him there. After one final check, he took out a package that was wrapped tightly in christmas wrapping. Alfred's Christmas Present, he thought gleefully as he opened it, savouring the smell of freshly baked cookies.
After not getting to even taste Alfie's cookies for about a month, this Christmas present was positively a godsend. First, Bruce took it, then Clark. Then Wally decided to visit. After that the Titans literally camped out in the Manor waiting for Alfred's cookies. And all Dick could do was watch grumpily from behind.
'Can I have one?' Dick asked Speedy, as he wolfed down his ninth – or was it eleventh?
'Dude. You live here. You probably get this all the time! Don't spoil it for me,' Speedy replied, spraying crumbs everywhere.
Dick had to suppress the urge to do a victory dance before starting on the first cookie with a flourish. It was just about to reach his mouth when –
"Are you Robin?"
He sighed, putting down the cookie as he turned to face his interruption, only to see a small child in ragged clothes staring up at him.
"Yes?" he replied irritably, "I'm busy. What's up, kiddo?"
"I… I just wanted to know… Why… Santa didn't bring me anything…"
Robin stopped short. He suddenly felt ashamed of what he felt just seconds ago. He sighed, closing the tin, and somersaulted down. He kneeled so that the kid and him were eye to eye. He could hear a voice, which was a mix of his father's, Bruce's and Alfred's, admonishing him.
"Were you a good girl the whole year?"
"Yes," she whispered, "I was. Especially because Santa didn't bring me nothing last Christmas either." The girl sniffed, with tears in her eyes, " I thought, that you and Batman would – hic- would know…"
Robin suddenly felt a strong, familiar, pain in his chest. He looked at the child in front of him. "What did you want for Christmas?"
"I… I wanted something nice. I don't want to trouble Santa, see? Something that I can share with mami and papa. I don't want to bother Santa."
Dick sighed, " You know why Santa didn't get you anything this time?"
The girls stared at him.
"It's because he told me to give it to you! And believe me, this has enough for your entire family and friends!" He said with a grin, as he handed the tin full of cookies to the girl with one hand, the other crumpling up the wrapping which had 'To Richard, From Alfred' written on it.
It was late morning by the time Dick returned home. Bruce was still asleep, but Alfred was up and preparing breakfast for Dick. He smiled as Dick took an unorthodox route to enter the manor – through the kitchen window (A route he took only when Bats was soundly asleep).
"Master Richard… Did you finally get to enjoy your cookies?"
"They were beautiful, Alfred," Dick smiled, as he pulled the plate full of food towards him, "simply beautiful."
A/N: One-shot. No sequel.