A/N: I wrote this in celebration (I'll celebrate anything) of my internet coming back after a week. Thank you weather . . .

Another little something to keep us occupied till June 3rd. This is set roughly two years ago, when Wally became Kid Flash (according to the Wiki, correct me if I'm wrong but I don't think it'll matter much in this fic).

Disclaimer: Hehe, forgot the disclaimer when I first posted this . . . shouldn't a team of DC ninja's have swooped in on me by now?

In hindsight, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to come to Batman, of all people, for advice.

But then, he was the only person the Flash could think of on short notice. That, and Green Arrow was apparently in the middle of something and not picking up his comm. Aquaman would probably throw a fish at him for even thinking about calling.

So, that left the Bat. Who currently looked like he wanted to throw something deadlier than a fish at him.

"You came all the way here," Batman said giving the Flash his patented Bat-glare, "in the middle of the night, to ask for what now?"

"Help," Flash said for the second time since he found Bats perched on a roof top, "with kids? Well, one kid. Sidekick . . . or partner . . . whatever. Please, Bats, I'm desperate here, and you've got the longest track record dealing with children. Help me out?" He forced himself not to see how many 'pleases' he could get in before Batman tried to push him off the building.

It had only been a few weeks since Barry Allen's nephew, Wally "Couldn't-leave-anything-well-enough-alone-if-his-life-depended-on-it-therefore-ending-up-with-superspeed" West, had pretty much appointed himself as the Flash's new partner. All of this, of course, Flash told the Justice League so, Bats already knew what, or rather who, this minor spur-of-the-moment panic attack was about.

A few seconds passed while Batman looked at Flash's pleading face like he would like to try that whole pushing Flash off the building thing. Well, the man was rather sensitive about other heroes in his city, and now one was standing there rambling about kids and advice. And twitching a little.

Then, the big, bad Bat sighed, "What is it you want to know exactly? I don't think I'm the best person tell you how to train a speedster."

"Oh, right . . . um," Flash paused, which was weird, for him. He hadn't really narrowed it down to one specific topic. This was not so weird for him.

Batman just waited with concern for the other's mental health evident even with the cowl on.

Flash finally sighed and plopped down on the roof next to the still standing Bat, "I guess I just need to know . . . It's not that hard right?" The senior speedster glanced up at the Dark Knight, who had gone back to watching the streets, "I mean, after you get through the initial 'do's' and 'don'ts' it's pretty easy after that –"

Flash had to stop due to the fact he heard something frighteningly close to laughter coming from Batman's direction.

It ended abruptly with a snort and a single word, "No."

Flash sat rather stunned for a moment, just watching the Bat continue to stare out over city, with a slight smirk he'd never seen before.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Barry stood irritably when the Bat didn't continue.

"I mean," Batman finally said, with an annoying amount of patronizing amusement in his voice, "That training a child crime-fighter is anything but easy."

Not for the first time since Wally had gotten his powers, Flash got a sudden flutter of fear in his chest, "You're freakin' me out more than usual, Bats. Could you, maybe, be more specific?"

To Flash's surprise, Batman finally tore his gaze from the dark streets and studied the other hero instead. It wasn't the Bat-glare anymore but Flash still felt like he was standing behind an x-ray machine.

Thankfully, before Flash actually started squirming under that gaze, Batman turned to face Barry fully and in a tone different from the dismissive one Flash was accustomed to, said, "The truth?"

The speedster had to think about that for a minute, which was more like a millisecond for anyone else, "When have you ever tried to spare my feelings?"

Batman nodded, "Right, here it is. Kids are annoying, and messy, and clingy. They talk too much even when they have nothing to say. If there is one thing I can always count on Robin to do, it's to question everything; sometimes I imagine if I hear the word 'why' one more time I'll rip my own ears out. They're impulsive and run off into danger half-cocked; you'll have to save him countless times before he finally gets it. Oh, and never give him explosives until he's been at it at least a year," he might have gone on but Batman saw the half-panicked look Flash was giving him and said simply, "You said you wanted the truth."

"It's not that I've just never heard you say that much at one time before," Flash replied. Hey, when he panicked, he joked, it was just his way.

The Bat-glare was back firmly in place by the time Batman said, "Are you ready?"

Flash was still thrown that the darker hero had said more than three words in the same sentence, so he didn't catch the Bat's meaning, "Ready for what?"

The speedster could very easily imagine eyes rolling behind that cowl, "For a child."

"I . . .," He stopped, unable to think of a satisfying answer. Therefore, he did what he always did when avoiding a question: blatantly changed the subject, "Hey, where is your partner anyway? I haven't seen him."

Batman replied grudgingly, "I sent Robin to patrol the other side of town. He was starting to irritate me, case in point," he glanced back at Flash, "Stop avoiding the question."

There was no way around it, then. Barry opened his mouth to say, yes, of course he was ready. But the words died in his throat.

He averted his gaze from the much more imposing one and once again stared over the dingy streets. If he was honest, he wasn't ready. He never wanted to bring anyone else in on such dangerous work. Also, the very fact that the Batman, Gotham's Stone Silent Knight, had practically just given him a lecture on the hardships of mentorship only proved the severity of the situation.

So, no, he was absolutely and unequivocally not ready.

Just as he was about to bid goodbye to Batman, run home, maybe hyperventilate a little, and finally tell poor Wally (after he wrapped him in bubble-wrap and locked him inside a security facility for a few years) that the whole thing was off, the Flash simply couldn't mentor him, he heard, "Because it is worth it."

Flash jumped at the Bat's low voice – he actually thought the man had filled his talking quota for the month already – and stared at the other hero, "Pardon?"

Apparently all this chatting was making Batman uncomfortable because he was no longer looking at the speedster, but studying the abandoned building across the street, "It never gets easier, but it's worth it."

Flash had to take a moment to think about exactly how bizarre this whole scene was. Without even trying, he'd gotten the Batman, the man who never said more than a whole sentence at JL meetings, to give him a lecture and a half, thus, making the Flash, the man who couldn't seem to keep an opinion to himself, completely speechless. Weird, just plain weird.

But speechless he was. Although, now, not because he felt like hyperventilating, though the fear was still fluttering about his stomach. Now, above all the Flash now knew two things.

One was that he and the rest of the Justice League had learned a long time ago, that Batman said whatever he said for a good reason. And he'd said quite a bit tonight.

Two, he still wasn't sure if he was ready to mentor Wally. Of course, he hadn't been ready to become the Flash either and that had worked out well enough.

At most he owed Wally a chance.

What felt like the first time since . . . well, Flash met Batman, he genuinely smiled at the dark hero, "Thanks Bats, I owe you one."

"Fantastic. Now, get out of here before you blow my cover with that neon sign you're wearing."

Ah, sweet normalcy.

With that the Flash bolted down the roof-top ladder and paused long enough at the bottom to get his bearings and to see a small figure fly over-head on a wire landing on the same roof he'd just been standing on with the Bat.

Then he heard Robin's rushed, little boy voice, "I finished patrolling the other side of town, Batman. Did I just see the Flash? Is he staying a while? Can I talk to him? Please, please, please, pleeeeaaaase?"

Flash could only chuckle and finally ran home.

A/N: Yeah, if it seems forced, it's because it kind of is. I got this idea, started typing it, got two paragraphs in and almost trashed the whole thing. Then, I got this sudden burst of stubbornness and tried to make it work. It may still be trash, but it was a personal victory.

Plus, Bats trying to give advice is funny to me.

Thanks for reading and let me know if it's any good (ya'll are becoming very good at keeping me in my place :)