CHAPTER ONE:
"A FAVOUR"
Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne Manor butler, was lost in his housekeeping duties. He was a man who could multi-task many times over and still have capacity for even more. Daily, he would dust the Wayne Manor, every room, every article of furniture, picture, and still have time to help Bruce with whatever he asked for in the Bat Cave. And because he kept up on his duties, there was very little to dust.
In the main hallway, he whisked his feather duster over a console table that welcomed the Manor's residents and guests that fell just off the vestibule. On it were pictures of Master Wayne and family, aside a common telephone and a phone directory with helpful public numbers. Private numbers, however, everyone had in their cell phones.
As he hovered over the telephone, it rang. He let it ring twice, as it was customary, then picked it up. "Hello? Wayne Manor, this is Alfred Pennyworth speaking. How may I be of assistance?" He always spoke polite and catering.
"Pennyworth?" came a young man's voice on the other end. "Oh, yes…the manservant, I-I mean, the Wayne butler. I mean, is either term politically correct these days?"
"Indeed, sir; I am the Wayne Manor butler, and I am comfortable with the term, as you put it," Alfred replied. "Whom may I say is calling? Do you have a name? Do you wish to speak to someone within the household?"
There was a small pause before the man spoke again. "Oh, my name is Paul Hudson. I'm an old buddy of Dick Grayson's. We used to be partners in the Bludhaven Police Department. Is he here? I couldn't get him at his apartment, or on his cell. It keeps going to voicemail."
"Yes, Master Dick is present. And regard to his cell, I'm afraid he damaged it recently and has yet to replace it."
"Dropped it, did he? He was always losing or breaking things in Bludhaven. I remember once he lost all his clothes when he tangled with a weird chick that took him for a ride. Swindled, I mean — in poker. She was a card counter, he later learned. But he's always been kind of a naive but trustworthy guy."
"Indeed, Mr. Hudson; I would trust him with my life if the case call for it. If you would wait a moment, I'll see where I can find him."
"Sure, and thanks."
"Not a problem, sir," Alfred said, and gently put down the receiver on the console table, and left.
Alfred was unsure where Master Dick was at the moment. He had engaged in his duties, and the last time he had seen the young master was at breakfast, but that was over an hour ago.
Then he recalled that Master Dick had agreed to help Master Damian with some homework. Damian was very smart and knowledgable—that came from tutoring for years under his mother in snowy mountains of Switzerland—however, most of the time, the youngest master would become the educator to the teacher.
Master Dick once quipped, "They sure don't make things like they used to when I was a kid. Everything has changed. And this 'new math' is a killer."
Alfred made his way to the Library, and almost immediately he heard, not the sounds of lecturing, but that of playfulness. In the Library? This is a room for reflection and solitude, not for playing.
He opened the double doors, and the first thing he observed, apart from Master Bruce sitting, as a proper gentleman should within such a room as the Library, reading a book, were all four young masters engaged in a game of Twister on the floor. Richard, Jason, Timothy, and Damian, were all "playing" the game. Well, Damian was sitting on a two-seater couch holding what appeared to be a large turn wheel with shapes and colours.
Alfred looked stone-faced, and Bruce shrugged when they met glances. It didn't need to be said, they were having fun, and that was the main thing, even if it was in the Library of all places. With all the crime fighting the "boys" had done over the past couple of weeks, this was some well deserved relaxation.
But Alfred felt the game lacked grace, because it never failed that the players always found themselves in weird and compromising positions reserved for "other" activities. Normally no one wanted to play with Dick Grayson because he was so abnormally flexible because of his acrobatic prowess, but somehow he had persuaded everyone to play now. The furniture was pushed back to accommodate the large playing field of colour shapes on the plastic mat.
Damian swung the wheel for Tim's turn. Tim moved easily. Tim's pelvis was currently up in the air, his butt couldn't touch the rest of the playing field unless it called for it, or he'd loose. Jason was on top of him facing Tim, their bodies compromisingly pressed together; the second elder master's feat of agility was slightly more simplified with both hands on the mat at his side, with his right knee down.
Tim said something to the tone of, "I hope you didn't have another viagra smoothie," to Jason, chuckling. And Jason replied, "Well, if I did, you'd be hard pressed and flat to the floor," indicating a certain "bigness" of his organ. Dick Grayson cradled Jason's head with his lower region, his arms and legs over-stretched and down on the mat. "Hey Dickiebird, whatever you do, don't pass gas," Jason then said. "I'll be in the full brunt of the windstorm."
"I guess I shouldn't have had that second helping of coffee then," Dick joked.
"Oh crap," Tim's face cringed up. "Cramp! I didn't stretch before playing! My side, my side…" And he lost his balance, collapsing to the floor. He slipped out from underneath Jason, holding his side. "Ow! Ow! Stitch in my side."
"You okay, Tim?" Dick asked.
Tim got to his feet. "Yeah," he said dejected. "Up to you now, Jason; Dick has never lost in Twister." Tim noticed Alfred, but the butler put a hand to his mouth to silence any acknowledgement. Obviously, he didn't wish to disturb the game, and the others' fun at the moment. Damian also got the silent message. Jason and Dick hadn't noticed yet.
"Well, there's always a first time," Jason said cunningly.
Dick said: "Confucius Twister Master say: Never twist confidence into victory unless you truly wish to lose."
"So lame," Damian said, then spun the wheel. "Jason: Left elbow to the Yellow circle."
Jason smiled, now with Tim out of the game, it was easier for him manoeuvre about, and that last turn of the wheel gave him an easy move. The spot was on his left side. Now he was better balanced on the mat.
Dick loomed over Jason in a better position, but the master of the game hadn't won yet.
Damian swung the wheel again, but as the arrow came to a slow stop, Alfred finally spoke up. "Master Dick, telephone call for you. It is a Mr. Paul Hudson."
"Really?" Dick said excited. "Wow, I haven't spoke to him in years, not since were on the Bludhaven PD together."
"Do you concede, Dickiebird?" Jason taunted.
"Nope, never in your wildest dreams." Dick looked at Damian. "What did does it say, D?"
Damian said, "Blue Square; right next to your other hand."
Dick's brow rose. "Oh boy, Jason, I apologize in advance for this."
"Huh?" Jason looked down as Dick's hand reached over Jason's butt and interposed both his arms itches from Jason's crotch. And as if on purpose, Dick pressed inward, touching the gap, and nudged Jason. The push tilted Jason off-balance, and he collapsed to the mat. "Damn it!" He slammed a fist down. "I almost had you this time! You cheated. You're not supposed to touch another player."
"It's within the rules, Jason," Damian said, putting down the spin-wheel. "Grayson won, fare and square — Again."
Dick sat down. "Sorry Jay, that's how cookie crumbles. It's a game of chance and luck. It only takes one spin of the wheel to give you the luck of the Irish or crush your dreams of victory with it taking you to where you body can't go. I stay in shape, something you need to work more on, Captain Thunder thighs."
Jason's eyes widened in disbelief. "Wait? What did you just call me? My thighs are not big!"
Damian laughed. "I'll have to remember that one! With all the nicknames you call me, there's one for you now."
"Stuff it, short-stack," Jason said, pointing a finger at him. And he also told Tim off, too. "I'm in great shape! I had one women tell me I have the body of Greek God!"
Damian snorted. "Zeus or Hephaestus? If she said Zeus, I don't see it."
"Hey, you little snot! I don't have a deformity. I died, if that's a disadvantage, I've learned to live with it."
Damian stood on his feet. "Mental arrogance—that's a major deformity in your case," he said confrontationally. "You could play Grayson a thousand times and still have no chance of defeating him in this game. Both you and Grayson come from a family of acrobats, but Grayson has honed his skills to a much higher level than you."
Bruce slammed his book shut, everyone looked at him. "Damian, that was cruel. You know full well the different paths both Dick and Jason took. No one wanted what happened to Jason. Apologize to him now!"
—Tt — Damian looked away, said, "Yeah, well, I was out of line with that comment; Sorry, Todd."
Bruce looked at Jason, cocked his head for a reply. "Fine. Apology accepted," Jason said, albeit reluctantly.
"You're grown adults, some of you, but you all still act like children," Alfred said. Then he smiled. "But I wouldn't have it any other way." My kids, he mused. He then said, "Master Dick, telephone call in the main hallway."
"Oh, right, thanks Alfred." Dick left.
x x x
Dick Grayson headed for the main hallway. He had kept up with a few friends he had made in Bludhaven after he moved back to Gotham City, but he had lost contact with Sgt. Paul Hudson, and with his phone dead, all his contacts had been lost. He was glad his friend at called him. He reached for the telephone and picked up the receiver. "Hey Paul, long time no see. Sorry for the wait — what's up?"
"I was waiting here humming the Jeopardy theme song waiting to answer the skill testing question: Was I forgotten? I was just about to hang up. I tried your cell, it goes directly to voicemail. Pennyworth, your butler, said you broke it again? Something to do with a def-defying chase after some crooks or you left it somewhere with your clothes in a back alleyway. Or, you just accidentally stepped on it like that time in the locker room at BPD HQ one time?"
Dick laughed. "None of the above," he said. "Nothing as heroic or absentminded as that; I just dropped it, and it broke, and died." He had accidentally dropped it from a very high distance when swinging after a criminal; he had failed to secure it properly in his Nightwing costume. But he couldn't tell Paul that. "These things just happen. As for Alfred, he'd never forget about a friend of mine. He has a memory like an elephant. So, how's things in Bludhaven?"
Paul Hudson told Dick that he was no longer with the Bludhaven PD and now owned a very successful nightclub called The Awakening. He said it was his dream to own a nightclub. He had bought the building for pennies on the dollar and now five years later it was the talk of the town. Dick was shocked. He knew Paul loved music and spoke often that that he always wanted to open a nightclub, that it was always a dream to do so, but he didn't have the capital. But then said he found a partner who went in with him and within a year it began earning a major profit.
"I need a favour, Dick; a big one, actually," Paul began, "I didn't know who else to turn to. I know you have police experience, but I don't know what you're doing now. Two of my workers called in sick from suspected food poisoning and I have a VIP coming to the club tonight—in fact, he's an associate to my silent partner. He's come to check up on things from time to time, a bit of an eccentric guy, but he doesn't make any trouble, and since my partner owns forty-nine percent of the club, and he has many other businesses and associates connected to him, I need to keep-up-appearances for him to continue investing. He's been thinking of selling, despite the club being highly successful. I'm kind of maxed out on my credit, at the moment, and I wish I could buy the remaining percentage from him, but I can't right now. Anyway, that's my problem," he finished.
"So, what's the favour?" Dick asked.
"I need you, and if you have a qualified friend, to Bounce for me tonight. I know it may be short notice and that's why I'm going to pay you each five-thousands-a-head for the night, plus a bonus at the end of the night."
Dick was stunned and speechless. "Five thousand dollars a head for one night just to be Bouncers? Really?"
"I'm desperate, Dick. I could really use your help tonight. What to you say? Will you do it? I know you don't need the money, not with Daddy War-bucks—sorry, that was bad joke—I know how much Bruce Wayne does for Gotham and its many charities. I really need this favour, buddy. Please say yes?"
Dick thought he sensed a little resentment from his friend. Paul always had to struggle to get what he wanted unlike Dick being adopted by Bruce Wayne after the death of his family and becoming his ward, money was ever at his finger-tips. Maybe he just imagined it? He immediately put it out of his mind.
"Money's no issue, Paul, you know that," Dick said. "You saved my butt more than once on the street when we partners in the BPD, I owe you more than just a favour. I owe you my life. If it wasn't for you, while I was distracted by that other low-life crook, I would never have seen his partner in my blindspot pointing a gun at me. You took him out. That is why you're always be one of my best friends. I'll be happy to help out."
Paul sounded utterly relieved. "Thank you, Dick. Thank you, thank you!"
Jason had just walked into the main hallway, and Dick waved him over, and smiled. "And I have a perfect complement. I'll bring him to the club. He has more than enough experience to deal with anything that comes up."
Jason cocked his head confused. He pointed at himself, and then mouthed, "Me?" And Dick nodded.
Paul thanked Dick again, and the call ended.
"Okay, what's all this about going to a club? Have you set up a double date for us? Is my girl cute?"
"No date tonight, but we will be getting paid for services rendered. And no, I didn't hire you out to be a gigolo, Captain Thunder Thighs." Jason cursed him for starting that, and Dick laughed. "We're going to be Bouncers for a nightclub my friend owns, and he's going to pay us five-thousand-dollars-a-head, plus a bonus at the end of the night."
Jason's eyes widened. "Really? I'd rather be enjoying the limelight instead of watching others having all the fun, but hey, I'll take it. Some pocket cash is always good."
"Good, we'll take my Sedan—the Daddy Car, as you call it; Mar'i, my daughter, loves it by the way—to Bludhaven. We'll need to pack a few things, just in case."
And Jason knew what "just in case" meant, and they both set off to pack.
To Be Continued...
