MOVIE NIGHT

CHAPTER 1

WAYNE MANOR

DICK GRAYSON, AGE 9

"I guess I don't really understand, Alfie," Dick Grayson opened the cavernous refrigerator in the Wayne Manor kitchen and began rummaging for the milk carton. "I mean, in the circus we really didn't have movie nights. We were too busy practicing or performing or setting up or taking down."

The elderly butler was busily making popcorn the old fashioned way, in a heavy cast iron pan on the stove. Dick could hear the pop-popping sounds under the firmly closed lid. Alfred had warned him not to lift the lid or the popcorn kernels would shoot out all over the kitchen. When Dick had suggested that microwave popcorn was a lot faster and easier, Alfred had adopted the look of disdain his face got whenever he was faced with something unpleasant. "No, Master Dick, we do not use mixes or instant anything in this house. The day that I let standards drop is the day that I shall retire."

"Is this it?" Dick pulled out the carton of whole milk and showed it to Alfred. "I didn't think that Bruce drank whole milk."

"Indeed he does not, young sir," Alfred said, pouring a generous helping into the blender. "I believe he normally drinks soy milk," Alfred said with a shudder. "He claims that it is healthier. Nevertheless, a strawberry shake cannot be made properly except with whole milk. Do you have the ice cream?"

"Here it is," Dick found the gallon of strawberry ice cream and watched as the old butler sliced the strawberries and added them to the blender, then instructed his young assistant in adding the ice cream. "And of course, one also adds just a dab of Ovaltine, for flavor."

Alfred moved over to the pan on the stove and gave it a vigorous shake while Dick was entrusted with the blender. Bruce wandered into the kitchen, smiling and looking relaxed for a change. "Well, I got the movies I wanted. It's a double feature."

Alfred poured out the popcorn into a bowl, adding butter and salt. Handing the bowl to Dick, he said, "Well, young master Robin, carry this into the den. We will follow you there shortly." Dick left the room, carrying the bowl carefully. Alfred turned to Bruce and frowned a bit. "Are you certain, sir, that you want to see that movie? I mean..."

Bruce simply nodded. "It's all right, Alfred. That movie had tremendous meaning for me, especially since I saw it on the day my parents were killed. I want Dick to understand the motivations and ethics of what we do."

"You have been discussing the reasoning behind your role as Batman ever since you began training the boy. How is this any different?" Alfred began spooning strawberry shake into the tall glasses, slapping Bruce's hand when he tried to filch some whipped cream.

"I just want him to get beyond the darkness of what we do to the sheer joy of it. I can't think of any better way to illustrate it," Bruce picked up his own shake, while Alfred held two in his hands. Together they went into the den, which was already set up for the evening.

The den was fitted with three identical black leather easy chairs facing a large screen television set. "I've got the remote, Bruce," Dick said, studying the controls. "The VCR's on."

"Okay, here goes," Bruce slid in the first movie. "This is one of my old favorites, the Mark of Zorro. It's about a masked hero who defended the defenseless in Old California. He rode a black horse and wore a mask."

Dick grinned and pulled himself up in the chair. "Kinda like us, huh?"

Bruce sat in the middle chair as Alfred handed the boy his strawberry shake. "Precisely as you and Master Bruce do, young sir," he said and sat in his own chair to watch the movie.

"What's the second movie?" Dick asked as the credits rolled.

"Robin Hood, with Errol Flynn," Bruce replied. "He wore a mask, too."

"Yeah, but he and the Sheriff of Nottingham didn't get along, did they?" Dick said. "At least you and Commissioner Gordon help each other."

"It wasn't always like that," Bruce replied. "At first, the Gotham police were hunting me just as hard as the Sheriff's men...Okay, it's starting..."

HOURS LATER

"Y'know, Bruce, we've been talking about my uniform a lot," a sleepy Dick Grayson said to his guardian as he climbed the stairs to bed. "I kind of like the Robin Hood look. You know, like the tunic with an undershirt and a cape. I'm already going to be called Robin, so why not have a red tunic with green sleeves? And a yellow cape, like my circus outfit."

"That sounds very colorful, Dick," Bruce said thoughtfully. "I wouldn't lose track of you, that's for sure. That could add some strategy, too. Like a robin, do you think you could bob around the criminals? Keep moving and keep them distracted. Then, when they aren't looking..."

"You can punch 'em!" Dick said enthusiastically. "Just like Robin Hood and his men always got the drop on the Sheriff's men!"

"That's right," Bruce said, grinning.

"Are you gonna teach me how to use a sword? Both Zorro and Robin Hood could use a sword." Dick yawned widely as Bruce tucked him in.

"We'll start your fencing lessons tomorrow, chum. I promise," Bruce said. "Good night, Robin," he said softly and turned out the lights.