Author's Note: Here's a cutesy little flash fic that I wrote when I was at home sick the other day. This is part of the Spark in the Dark universe. Happy reading!

Bruce pushed the bedroom door open slowly, wanting to surprise the room's occupant with his early arrival home. "Dicky?" he queried. "You awake, chum?"

"...Bruce?" a weary whisper came from near the corner.

"Hey, kiddo," he stepped inside and zeroed in on the ten-year-old. "What are you doing over here? Alfred said he put you to bed just a little bit ago." Putting down the bag he'd brought upstairs, he lowered himself beside the quilt-wrapped lump on the window seat. Oh, baby, you look so pathetic, he moaned, taking in red-rimmed, pain-dark eyes. I hate it when you're sick...

"I'm cold," the child whined, "but my head is so hot that it feels like my brain is gonna leak out of my ears." Pouting, he pressed his cheek back against the glass. "I don't wanna be sick."

"I know," the billionaire soothed. "Alfred and I don't want you to be sick, either. Has your medicine kicked in yet?"

"Nooo..."

"Well, it should soon. Until it does, though, I have a few things that might help you feel better."

"...I don't think I'd be much good at casework right now."

"It's not casework," Bruce chuckled, pleased. "But one of the things I brought is mysterious."

Dick shifted, curiosity breaking through his obvious discomfort. "What is it?"

"Well, you remember the movie channel we found when we were in Bruges? The one that was showing nothing but old crime films?"

"Uh-huh."

"I found a collection of those," he held the set up. "Most of them are in English, but a few are in French, so you can practice listening if you want. I was surprised when I saw it; I've never heard of half of these."

"Can we watch them together?"

"You bet. That's why I got them."

"But later, right? When I'm not all blech?"

"Whenever you're ready. I won't watch them without you, I promise."

"Yay..."

"There's more."

"There's more?"

"Mm-hmm." I swear, I will never get used to you thinking two or three presents is too many, he mused. To be fair, the boy had gotten much more comfortable with things being purchased for him in the twenty months since he had arrived, but startled exclamations like the one that had just been voiced still caught Bruce off guard from time to time. "The next thing is to help with your being cold." Bending again, he pulled out a larger box.

"...A new blanket?"

"An electric blanket."

"One of the ones that you plug in and it gets warm?"

"Exactly."

"Ooooh, can I try it? Please?"

"Alfred said your fever is mild enough that you can use it for a little while," he nodded, standing. A minute later Dick had cast off his quilt and was cocooned in fleece.

"...Nothing's happening."

"Give it a minute. I just plugged it in."

"Wait...there it goes." He leaned his head against the window again, smiling beatifically. "This is perfect. How come we didn't already have one of these?"

"Because Alfred hates them. He says one burned him when he was a kid."

"Oh. But...he doesn't mind this one?"

"He wasn't happy about it, but he knew it would make you feel better so he didn't object. He did insist on a rule, though. He said that even though electric blankets are much safer than they used to be, you shouldn't use it without permission, and you should never turn it up past what we set it to for you. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. Then I guess I can give you your third present; slippers."

"Um...I have slippers." He wrinkled his nose apologetically and stuck his feet out. "See?"

"Yes, but those are boring slippers. They don't suit you. These," he lifted the last and, he thought, best gift from the bag, "are much more Dick Grayson, don't you think?"

"...Are those elephant slippers!?" For a moment the last vestiges of illness exhaustion fled from his expression. "No way!"

"They're not just elephants," Bruce informed him, chucking his old foot coverings towards the closet and snugged the new ones into place, "they're noisy elephants." Smirking in anticipation of the giggle he was about to be graced with, he squeezed a spot in the plush gray fabric. A raucous trumpeting began, drawing the delighted sound he had hoped for. There's my happy boy, his smile spread. Warm, safe, and by my side; exactly how he should be.

Still chortling, Dick wriggled around and came up under his guardian's arm. When his slippers had quieted, he spoke. "...Bruce?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you really leave work early and go shopping just to make me feel better?"

"I did, chum. I was going to come pick you up instead, but Alfred was already on the way. Besides," he squeezed him, "I thought you could use a few pick-me-ups. Did they work?"

"Yes," a content sigh was given up. "I feel better. Just sleepy."

There's the medicine working. Good, it's about time it kicked in and gave you some relief. "Yeah? Why don't we get you back in bed, then, okay?"

"Will you carry me? Please? I'm sore everywhere..."

The billionaire had learned long ago that he stood no chance against a plea like that, so he didn't even try to withstand it. "You bet, kiddo," he agreed, sweeping him up and heading for the bed. "Oops," he winced as the plug for the blanket pulled out of the wall and trailed along behind them. "That's okay, we needed to turn it off anyway so you can sleep." Laying his load down, he took the electric throw away and swiftly replaced it with the usual covers. "There. Warm enough?"

"...Uh-huh...Bruce?"

"Yeah, chum?"

"You're the best guardian ever..."

He hovered over the motionless figure for a long moment, his eyes hot. Oh, kiddo...I'm not, but...thank you. "...Sleep tight, Dicky," he pressed a soft kiss to his temple. "I..." Damn it! "...I'll check on you in a little bit."

A tiny smile curved across the child's lips. "Love you too, daddy..."