Welp, here goes:
The Third Child:
"No really. I think it would be good for you. And seriously, he's perfectly qualified. He can take down all the big baddies, and he doesn't like to kill…yet. And man, can he brood with the best of them. I mean, my god, he's perfect. Although, you might want to skip the Robin phase and go straight on to the Nightwing costume. Living without parents for so long probably gave him a little attitude problem. Only a little one, I swear. Please, I promise you won't regret it."
It was, he decided, a very good thing that the Flash wore a mask and thus could not learn do that abominable stare. Furthermore, where had she picked it up was beyond him. It was impossible to beat. And so, against his better judgment, he found himself agreeing.
"Fine, I'll give him a trial run." Then, puppy eyes or not, he fixed her with one of his you-will-tell-me-what-I-need-to-know glares, "but one screw up, just one, and he's out."
Her only response was to smile. Typical.
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So this was the new kid, huh? Rather scrawny and small to be a superhero. And he looked a bit young…
"Age?"
"13"
Interesting. Apparently, he was well-versed in the art of monosyllabic answers as well. Wherever had she found him? Wait a minute. 13? And she wanted him to go right to the more adult Nightwing costume? Then again, hmmm. The Robin color scheme did seem too bright for his complexion, and as a connossieur of bright colors and costumes, she would know. But, would Nightwing fit? Not just physically, but could a 'tween actually be that foreboding? Perhaps it was time to track down Selena Kyle; she always did have more fashion sense…in everything but her own costume, of course.
"Well, what do you think?"
"I have to admit. You've outdone yourself this time, Ms. Kyle."
"Oh Bruce, no need to stand on formality. After all, what's a couple of names between…friends."
He diplomatically detangled her hands before they could cause an international incident. "Ah but this is strictly business, and I never mix business with pleasure. So,"
Her pouting lip disappeared, and a more adult frown took its place. "Well, Bruce, I would like to think that this was a favor between acquaintances, but if you must know," she leaned in close to his ear, "I have heard of an exquisite series of paintings being put on display at the Gotham Art Museum next week. If you could just look the other way, I'd call us even."
He glared at her, almost positive she was joking. She couldn't be serious? She was smiling-yes, she was joking. Great.
Even better, the new protégé was smirking as well. Did no one respect the Dark Knight anymore? Clearly his glare had no effect.
The plane ride back was just as quiet as the plane ride there.
He supposed she was right: They did suit each other. Both were anti-social recluses. Alfred would have his work cut out for him trying to make the two attend the necessary amount of social functions necessary to keep Bruce Wayne alive and out of suspicion.
Bruce flicked his eyes over to the kid. Damn, he was quiet. No self-respecting teenager should ever be that quiet. Dick could barely sit still, and Tim, even less so. Usually, they had so much electronics set up, and plugged in within five minutes of sitting down that they were almost as unreachable as Superman in his Fortress. But, all this kid was doing was staring at the window. Bruce's eyes widened; if the kid was brooding again…what could he possibly be brooding about. Nothing in his short life could warrant that much…well, there were some things, he allowed. Wait, the kid's eyes weren't in that scowling, leave-me-alone-with-my-pain position he used to see in front of a mirror, but were actually wider than usual. In fact, if Bruce didn't know any better, he would say the kid looked almost panicked. Of what, flying?
His eyes moved forward again, and he closed his eyes. If the poor kid was afraid of flying, there was no way he would make it on the job. Slowly he began to visualize himself in costume; wasn't that hard, really, he spent so much time in it already. He reflexively reached for a compartment on his utility belt, and slipped out a brown-backed card face down. On the other side was a picture of a girl dressed very oddly and in a pose that looked almost impossible to hold in real life. Silently, he called her name, a summoning she couldn't refuse.
"Karmen."
And suddenly she was there, oddly dressed and cheerful as always. "Yes?"
"How did you expect for this situation to work out if he's afraid of flying?"
She cocked her head to the left, "He's not afraid of flying. Maybe it's the airplane? Maybe you should ask him, and learn a bit more about him before yelling at me. Maybe," now she was almost gone, her voice a whisper camouflaged by the airplane's engines, "you should try to remember his name."
And suddenly, the meeting was over, and his eyes were open, and, most disorientating of all, he was standing. In the aisle. Next to…the kid. He really didn't know his name. Must be getting old, Bruce, never happened before. He was so deeply in thought that he almost missed the kid's eyes flickering to his reflection in the window. Almost.
He took the next few seconds of silence as an invitation and sat down in the aisle seat. Usually he met his wards on some traumatic or adrenaline pumping adventure, so having Karmen almost literally dump the kid on him, while he was dressed as Batman, no less, made for a change of pace.
But, he never knew how to start conversations, only finish them. So, he just started.
"Planes are actually very safe. They don't really malfunction and, even if they did, there are so many safety precautions in place that it would be okay."
"How do they work?"
"What?"
"How do they work?" The kid turned to glare, er, look at him. That was one menacing look. But back on track, he really didn't know that much about planes, only the basics. That would have to do.
Surprisingly enough, Bruce Wayne's allegedly small cache of information on aerodynamics and the inner workings of airplanes lasted the rest of the flight. Like most other information, Bruce Wayne knew a lot more than he let on, or perhaps even more than he thought he knew.
And his partner was, as Karmen had suspected, only afraid of planes. Not flight. Why, Bruce wondered, did it seem like he had never flown on a plane before? But beneath his tough exterior, he was a good listener and willing to learn. At least, better than Dick in his late teenage years. Except, dammit, he still couldn't remember the kid's name.
End Chapter 1
So how was it?
I feel like I'm forgetting something. Ooh, right, the Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Batman, (they belong to DC) and "the kid" belongs to somebody else, I will not say, as that will ruin who he is.
There were some slight clues, but maybe next chapter.
Also some parts may be slightly off, my bad. I apologize. Please notify me so I can fix ASAP.