This is my first attempt at a fan fiction, please be gentle. I don't own the characters. Dick is living in Bludhaven after returning to being Nightwing, has re-joined the police.
Chapter One – The bad day.
Dick woke to the shrill of his ring tone. Bleary eyed he grabbed for his phone knocking over the glass of water he's put on the night stand the previous night in the process. Hitting accept call the sound of his partner's voice made him sit up quickly. "Grayson, where are you? You're an hour late for your shift!" He groaned, must have slept through my alarm he thought. Glancing over to his alarm clock he noticed it had been unplugged and a note lay under it. 'Grayson, this is for making me late for school yesterday, D!' Damien! That little twerp, how did he get past all the security measures! The sound of Amy Rohrbach barking down the line at him brought him back to the phone call at hand. "I'm waiting outside your apartment building, you have 10 minutes then I'm coming to kick your lazy butt out of bed and down to the precinct." With that the phone went dead before Dick could say anything. He would deal with Damien later, for now he had ten, no wait nine minutes to get himself awake, presentable and down 7 floors. Groaning again he could tell this was going to be a bad day.
Four robberies, one car chase, two domestic violence incidences, a stabbing and a pile of paper work later Dick Grayson was leaving the precinct for the evening. He loved the job, being able to help the people of Bludhaven both as himself and as Nightwing was full time work though. He was shattered, hoping he would be able to catch a few hours' kip before his next patrol of Bludhaven's violence laden streets. Just as he reached the doors bidding Ava the police receptionist good evening it began to pour down, just great he thought, I didn't managed to grab a coat before I left the house. Shattered and now soaking he walked the mile back to his apartment. Thoroughly drenched by the time he reached his door he put his hands in his pockets to find his keys. Panic spread through him as he searched each pocket, oh great he thought, where are they! After searching his pockets he sighed, they weren't there. That meant he'd left them down at the precinct or they'd fallen out of his pocket. A quick call to the precinct confirmed what he had feared; they weren't there as far as anyone could see. He went to get the spare set from the building supervisor. She was a grumpy old age woman whose love for cats couldn't be missed. Not only did her five cats seem to be everywhere she had cat pictures and portraits, ornaments and creepy stuffed cat teddies. She wore jumpers and coats with cats all over them. She was nice but the cat obsession was a little much for Dick. He knew Damien loved cats, he hoped his little brother didn't become too obsessed with them though. After a quick chat with Ms Robertson aka the cat obsessed building supervisor and obtaining the spare set of keys for his apartment he trudged back upstairs, his shoes squeaking as he went.
Gaining access to his flat he gave a sigh of relief; a long hot shower, hot chocolate and a sleep were in order. Then he could go out and play, he gave a grin at the thought. Heading for the shower his mind was solely thinking of the hot water warming his chilled body, washing away the days grime not noticing that the living room window was open. He grabbed a few towels and started to get undressed. Stepping under the hot cascade of water he started to feel better, the power showers torrent easing the aches and pains of the day. Getting out of the shower he felt a world better than he had when he had entered it, he proceeded to dry himself and put on a pair of jogging bottoms and a loose fitting t-shirt he headed to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate.
As he boiled the milk he lamented over the fact he could never get it to taste like Alfred's. That man was a genius in the kitchen! Hot chocolate was an art form to the man. His cookies were to die for! Dick then started wishing he's taken Alfred's offer of sending a batch of cookies his way the other day. Dick stood thinking this as the milk began to boil over landing on his foot, cursing he pulled the pan off the hob and nursed his burnt foot. Nothing a little cold water couldn't cure. Once he'd seen to his foot he went back to finishing his hot chocolate off. Popping the last of the marshmallows on top he made his way through to the living room to find something funny to watch. As he made his way over to switch the light on he was surprised to hear a familiar voice in the room. He was so surprised he dropped the mug of hot chocolate onto his other foot
"Hi Dickiebird, bad day?"