Notes: Thanks to all those who followed and favorited! This chapter will be where the plot really begins. So... enjoy!

Chapter Two

Of Dinners and Uncertainty

The next morning was greeted by a reluctant dawn. The sun hid behind a persistent layer of grey clouds and for some reason, the morning birds have failed to awaken. Bruce opened his eyes cautiously to the dim light filtering into his bedroom; instinct telling him that something was amiss. He had this dreading feeling telling him that he had his guard down for too long. Was he drugged? Poison Ivy? As the fuzziness of sleep gradually resided, he recalled that he didn't even bother with patrol last night.

Stirring farther from sleep, he noticed that a soft cheek was pressed into his neck. And that his face was buried in sweet-smelling black curls. Last night's events came back to him all too fast, and he sighed in understanding. Bruce had subconsciously assumed that last night was nothing but a dream. One of those rare, beautiful dreams he sometimes had. Dreams that he must always wake up from, and then it would hurt just a little bit more to stare into his bleak, empty room.

But as he felt the whisper of breath stir the skin underneath his ear and a small lithe form pressed into his chest, he knew that this time he wasn't just dreaming.

He pulled Dick's small frame tighter into his, the young boy muttered something sleepily in response but didn't wake. When Dick was asleep like this, Bruce could almost pretend that nothing was wrong with the world. He could pretend the pain didn't exist.

Bruce lifted his hand gingerly to push a stray strand of hair behind Dick's ear, the boy sighed softly at the touch and nuzzled his face into Bruce's neck.

In the solace of his room, Bruce allowed himself a little smile.

When the first of the morning birds finally began their song, Dick stirred and opened his eyes sleepily. For a brief moment, Dick's breath hitched in realization that he was not in his bedroom.

"Good morning, Dick." Bruce said in a low voice that could have qualified as nothing but the rustle of leaves in the morning breeze, hadn't the room been so quiet. Dick moved back a little to stare at Bruce with wide baby-blue eyes, the same color of the small flowers that grew on the outskirts of Gotham. But Dick's blue was softer and inexplicably more radiant at the same time. Bruce couldn't help but notice how prettily they were framed by a thick frizz of dark lashes. He quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind and recomposed himself.

"How are you?" This made Dick's cheeks flush a little and he quickly averted his eyes away from Bruce.

"I'm alright now." Dick muttered without looking at the older man. Bruce searched the boy's eyes for a moment longer. Only when the boy's cheeks darkened even more did Bruce move on.

"How about some breakfast? I think Alfred said he wanted to make his special muffins today." Bruce knew how much Dick loved Alfred's muffins, not that anyone would give up a chance to eat them. The initial turmoil in Dick's features softened into a wide grin, the boy was more than willing to be distracted by muffins. The usual, happy and sunny Dick Grayson was back.

"You bet I do." Dick made a move to get dressed, only to realize his room (and his clothes) was in the other side of the manor. Alfred disapproved of seeing him walk around the manor in pajamas. It's distasteful and inappropriate, he would say and Dick was really not in the mood to get an earful of etiquette and manners. For a second, Dick considered the possibility of climbing out of Bruce's window and then climb back into his own bedroom, but that thought was soon interrupted by a knock on the door followed by a polite: "Master Bruce?"

"What is it, Alfred?" Bruce said as he moved his arms away from Dick and sat up. Dick went on to stretch luxuriously as he blinked the last remains of sleep from his eyes.

"Master Bruce, I'm afraid that I can't seem to locate young Master Dick." Alfred said through the door, a slight note of worry tainting his heavy English accent.

"Don't worry, Alfred. Dick is here." Bruce's tone was nonchalant as he walked over to the door and opened it. Alfred stole a quick glance at Dick who was still yawning sleepily on Bruce's bed before returning his attention back to his older charge standing before him.

"I see, thank you sir." Alfred paused for a professional moment, then turned to face Dick and continued. "Master Dick, would you fancy some breakfast? I have prepared muffins by my great-aunt's homemade recipe." Alfred's voice was neutral and as formal as ever, but Dick could see amusement in his eyes.

"You know I do, Al." Dick grinned at Alfred, who smiled back knowingly.

"Then I must insist that you shower and change before coming down, Master Dick." As if in defeat, Dick sighed and slowly made his way to the door, pouting all the way. Alfred definitely knew how to get what he wanted, although Dick still thought using muffins as bait was a little unfair. Bruce ruffled Dick's dark hair on his way out. Dick only huffed a little, but then proceeded to flash him with one of his lopsided smirks.

"I'll see you downstairs, Master Bruce." Alfred retorted. Bruce was going to say something back, but a twinkle in Alfred's eyes made him stumble on his thoughts. It was the same odd twinkle Alfred gave him when Bruce first mentioned taking Dick in as his official ward. He couldn't understand it then, and even more so now. It was a sly, knowing twinkle that made Bruce a little more than uncomfortable. He wasn't used to knowing less than the people around him. Bruce always knew everything of anything. But Alfred's thoughts were always an entirely different story.

"Sure, Alfred." Bruce managed to recover a split second afterward, no one would ever have noticed the delay. At least no one but Alfred.

"Come, Master Dick." Alfred made an ushering gesture at Dick, and the young boy followed obediently. Bruce frowned slightly in frustration. Alfred knew something, something he obviously didn't. There was no hope in forcing it out of the old butler, so the only other thing to do was to push it to the back of his mind and wait.

The day was quite uneventful. Dick went to school, Bruce went to meetings with undoubtedly rich and important people, and Alfred stayed at the Manor to do whatever he usually did.

Gotham city was too quiet. Bruce was beginning to suspect that something major was being planned, or worse, that Arkham's insane were contemplating the city's termination. But then again, Bruce was known to be quite paranoid; or rather, cautious as he preferred to call it himself.

Bruce was skimming over some files in his lavishly designed office when his phone rang. Even before he picked it up, Bruce knew it was Alfred. The only people who had Bruce's private phone number were Alfred, Dick and Fox. Judging by the time, Dick would be at school and Fox would be in a real-estate conference, which left only Alfred.

Alfred very rarely called him during that time of the day. Could there have been news from the commissioner? Or from Dick?

"Master Bruce, I do hope I am not interrupting anything?" Alfred's voice came through the phone's speakers.

"Not at all. What is it?"

"As you are most likely aware, there seems to be no apparent criminal activity around Gotham as of late. At least nothing the local police force couldn't handle without needing the assistance of a certain.. law enforcer. From there, may I be so bold to ask if you could spare some time to join us for dinner tonight? I have taken the liberty to prepare a proper dinner for both Master Dick and yourself."

"Of course, Alfred. I would love to. I think I can even make it back before six." Bruce was a little surprised by this. Alfred didn't call to invite him to dinner every other day. Bruce was quite certain there wasn't anything special that day, and it wasn't like Alfred to act on whims.

"What's the occasion?" Bruce asked in a trained tone. The words didn't betray Bruce's burning curiosity, but still had the intensity to push anyone to an answer. But Alfred knew Bruce all too well.

"My apologies, sir, but I believe that one does not need a specific occasion to enjoy a decent family dinner. Besides, everbody needs a chance to unwind oneself every once in a while." Alfred was unrelenting when he insisted and Bruce saw no reason to argue.

"Alright, I'll be there."

"Very good. Master Dick will be more than pleased to know that you can join dinner for a change. Good day, Master Bruce."

"Thank you, Alfred" Bruce narrowed his eyes in thought as he hung up. It was true that Bruce didn't join his young ward at dinner very often in the past six months, but Dick had always told him that spending time with him as Robin was way more fun anyway. And from what Alfred had been telling him, it seemed that Dick never really bothered to eat what Alfred would call decent dinners. Most of the time, Dick would settle for a couple of sandwiches before returning to whatever he was doing earlier.

A thought suddenly struck Bruce. Dick was alone most of the time, and when he was with Bruce it was usually spent in dark alleys or dusty warehouses.

Bruce sighed. He may be an expert at a dozen foreign languages, another dozen martial arts, criminology and everything else he would ever need to fight crime, but he was at a complete loss when it came to... more personal matters.

Alfred had often reprimanded him for his inability to settle down. Whenever the gossip pages were filled with news over Bruce Wayne's break up yet again, Alfred would sigh wearily, but even Alfred had given up the notion of pointing it out. And during parties, when Bruce had two or more women draped across him, from a distance, Alfred would give him looks.

Bruce had always tried to avoid intimacy. He knew well enough about the danger he could place anyone into. He remembered all too well what nearly happened to Julie Madison. He couldn't afford a social life. He had to do this alone.

In his defense, he wasn't being selfish.

But then it came back to Dick. Had he been selfish then?

Was he neglecting Dick?

Bruce remembered how utterly alone he used to feel in the beginning. All alone in the darkness of reality, crying cries that would never be heard. Calling for mom and dad who would never answer again. Desperate to hear voices that are gone forever.

His mother's tender and loving gaze. His father's deep and gentle encouragements. Never again.

The world had suddenly seemed too bright, too loud, too harsh for someone like him. For someone so lost in a sea of hurt and pain and despair and darkness. The night he saw his parents bleeding on the cold hard ground, the world shifted right before his eyes. He realized that it was all just a lie in the face of a painful truth. A lie to keep the demons away. A lie that failed nonetheless. The demons were there, always had been. Always would be.

The world as he knew it was gone. Ghosts and lost souls haunting, claiming every dark corner. Voices whispering, demanding a second chance they would never get. Eyes watching, waiting for him to fall. The world was cold. The world was loathsome. The world was heartless.

The world did not care.

Everybody suffered and everybody hated.

The world was ugly.

He suffered and he hated.

But Dick… Young, brilliant Dick. Dick with his bright blue eyes. Dick with his sweet smiles. Dick with his warm, generous hugs. Dick with his unwavering trust.

Dick was beautiful in his own, unassuming way.

This world was no place for him.

Dick would get hurt one day. And when it would happen, Bruce would not be there. He would be helpless. Again.

Dick would get hurt, Bruce knew that, but the worst thing was that he also knew, deep down, that when Dick would get hurt, it would be his fault.

Late that afternoon, Dick came home to be greeted by Alfred. School had been boring. He had to pretend to listen to block-headed teachers telling him things he already knew. The school Bruce had placed him in might have been the best all-boys-school in Gotham, but it was still nothing compared to the training sessions he had with Batman. Dick had to force himself to stay awake every passing minute. The only reason why he still attended school was probably for the sake of public formality.

What would people think if they hear that the Prince of Gotham's ward got less than the very best? As if they actually knew what was best for him. As if they knew anything about him. Dick still remembered all the diplomatic business Bruce had to get through to prevent them from making a big deal about his adoption.

It was always they and them judging and making everyone's lives miserable.

Dick was frowning as he walked in.

"Long day at school, Master Dick?" Alfred asked kindly, taking his school bag from him.

"God, Alfred," Dick made an exaggerated sigh, "you can't even begin to guess how many times I almost fell asleep today. I swear, Al, those teachers know as much about their subjects as the kid next door does."

"With all due respect, young sir, we do not have any immediate neighbors." Alfred gave Dick a smug look, and Dick couldn't help but giggle. He felt much better already.

"Sure, Al, you always know best anyway. By the way, what's that I smell?" Dick sniffed at the air as a strong waft of something smelling terribly good drifted in his direction. Dick was suddenly reminded of his mother back in the circus and he wondered why.

Sniffing again, Dick looked over at Alfred. Despite everything, the butler looked very pleased with himself.

"What you are smelling, young sir, is tonight's dinner. I have taken special care to prepare a dish usually enjoyed in travelling circuses. I presume you are familiar with this particular one?" Dick sniffed at the scent again, and damn. Alfred's good.

This was exactly what the cook at Haly's circus made during festivals and events.

It was relatively simple compared to the food Dick had recently been eating at Bruce's parties. It consisted of baked chicken submerged in a thick, saucy gravy.

Dick smiled as warm memories flooded over him. It was his 8th birthday again, celebrated in a warm beach town on the East Coast. Then it was his parent's wedding anniversary, and then the circus' grand opening in Manhattan. It was a big night for all of them. Manhattan was a big city and the first one they had been in for a couple of years.

"Alfred! This is exactly what we had during big events back in the circus! How- How did you ever know?" Alfred just cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I have my ways, Master Dick. More importantly, I'll be happy to inform you that Master Bruce might even be able to join us for dinner tonight."

"That's great, Al." Dick beamed up at him, it was not very often that Bruce ate his dinner (or any of his meals, frankly) at home.

"Indeed. Now, if you'll be so kind as to excuse me, I have dinner to prepare."

"Sure Al." Dick flashed him another grin before the butler dipped his head slightly and went off.

It was just a little before five and there was still plenty of time before dinner. Dick was definitely not in the mood for homework or any school-related work. It had been a slow and lazy day, what Dick needed was some time in the manor's gym.

The gym Bruce had installed for him had everything an acrobat could ever ask for and more. The walls of the gym were covered with bullet-proof mirrors and the floor was matted with shock-absorbing matting. Bruce had told Dick that these mats would still prevent him from getting hurt even if he fell from a three-story building. Apparently, their armor used the same technology as the mats did. Courtesy to Wayne Technology, of course.

Aside from that, the gym also had a total of two trapezes, two pairs of parallel bars, three balance beams, a myriad of other equipment and even a large uneven structure used for parkour practice. Dick knew that Bruce had more than enough money to buy him anything he could ever want (hell, Bruce even had enough money to compensate Batman's existence), but he still felt a little embarrassed whenever he saw this gym.

Dick was relatively new to the world of politics and money, and he was still far from being comfortable around it. As a circus boy, the only pricey gifts Dick got were from his fans, and even then, the most expensive gift he had ever gotten was one of those exquisite flower bouquets.

Dick marveled at the gym again. It was big, and very fancy.

He began stretching out of habit; his pliant body bending and arching gracefully. Standing completely straight on just one hand, he delicately arched his back to lower his feet unto the ground. He stayed like that for a second before he swiftly coiled back to perform a perfect somersault. As he felt his palms touch the matting, braced and somersaulted backwards. Dick smiled as he landed back on both his feet, feeling a familiar thrill flood him. His father had thought him that move when he was six. It had been, and still was, one of his favorites.

There were many other floor exercises Dick could go through, but what he really needed at that moment was to be 20 feet above the ground, hanging from a trapeze.

There, high up in the air, was where he belonged. Looking down at the blur of the crowd, wind rushing beneath his feet as he jumped, hands outstretched for the next bar, constantly in motion. Whenever Dick was flying, he was free, he was alive. He was, Dick Grayson.

Dick looked down at the morbidly empty gym and sighed. The cheering crowd was no longer there and the platform waiting ahead of him was empty. His mom or dad were no longer waiting for him on the other side, ready to catch him.

It suddenly felt terribly wrong to be up there all alone without the rest of his team. It felt wrong to be there without his mom and dad. He missed the circus, he missed performing, he missed being a Flying Grayson. But that didn't really matter much. What he really missed was being with his parents.

Dick closed his eyes and felt the edge of the platform with his toes. With a shuddering intake of breath, he jumped. Swinging and gliding once more; but alone nonetheless. Whenever Dick turned to grab the next trapeze, he expected to see a hand reaching out. But, of course, it wasn't there.

Despite the constant reminder at the back of his mind that something was missing, Dick felt a familiar giddy rush. There was an odd sort of comfort in the way he could almost pretend he was back at Haly's, practicing on his own on a warm summer day. Everything was exactly the same, the rush of wind in his face, the firmness of the bar underneath his hands, the adrenaline pumping in his veins.

Dick couldn't help being happy whenever he was doing what he was born to do. To fly.

"I remember the first time I saw you up there." A deep voice startled Dick the moment he had his feet safely on the platform again. He turned to see Bruce standing in the corner of the gym. He was just standing there, almost completely motionless. Despite the ornate suit Bruce was wearing, he looked as intimidating as he would be in cape and cowl.

How long had he been there? From this far away Dick couldn't make out Bruce's expression, but he could still feel the intensity of those deep midnight-blue eyes on him.

His voice was hard, but Dick thought he could hear just the slightest trace of a smile there. Dick grinned back.

"Well, the Graysons are known to fly, you know." Dick climbed off the platform and jumped when he was about five feet off the ground. He landed elegantly on both his hands and proceeded to do a couple of flips. Dick stopped right in front of Bruce, still grinning. He did enjoy showing off to Bruce. Besides, he was used to an entire tent full of cheering people. Although on second thought, having the Batman himself watch him was not an entirely unappealing idea.

"So I've heard." The corners of Bruce's mouths turned up slightly into an almost-smile as he petted the boy's damp hair. It was a rare occasion to see Bruce like this, but it would be a lie to say Dick didn't like the way Bruce's big hand felt in his hair. It made him feel… safe.

Too bad it was gone only a moment later. Dick felt his guardian's eyes watching him again and he looked up to return an equally blue gaze. Deep midnight-blue locked with radiant baby-blue. His guardian still had that unusual light-hearted vibe about him, and it would be a terrible shame not to play along.

"You're home early." Dick asked with a smirk, looking up sideways at Bruce playfully. "What's up? Did you miss me?" Bruce's expression was unreadable as he eyed Dick silently for barely longer than a heartbeat.

"Come, Alfred would be serving dinner soon. He would like to see you showered." Bruce's deep blue eyes softened just the tiniest bit as he held out a hand. Still smiling, Dick took Bruce's hand happily into his own and walked back alongside his guardian.

When Dick felt fuzzy warmth spread through him that caused his heart to flutter and his cheeks to flush, he really did wonder why.

Alfred sounded the dinner bell at precisely 7 o'clock, just as Dick had started to get really hungry. Dinner was simple, unlike some of the 'proper dinners' Alfred occasionally made, but it reminded Dick of all the happier memories he had of the circus. It was laid out exactly as it used to be; the main course, the rolls that served as a side-dish, the colorful fruit salad, and even the orange soda Dick had always loved. Alfred was meticulous in his perfection.

"Is everything as wished, young Master?" Alfred inquired as he saw Dick looking around with a wide-eyed expression.

"Alfred, this is… This is exactly how everything used to be! I know you have your ways, Al, but… they must be one heck of a method to find things out!" Dick was rewarded with a smug look.

"Indeed they are, sir. Besides, I strongly believe that you do deserve a meal that you associate with some of your happier memories." Alfred's eyes were warm as he gestured for Dick to sit down. Dick was still eyeing at how Alfred had perfectly replicated the meal when he saw movement from the corner of his eye.

"Good evening, Master Bruce. Good to see that you had managed to make it for dinner. As you can see sir, I have prepared something rather special tonight."

"It does smell very good, Alfred. What is it exactly?"

Dick looked up at the rumble of Bruce's deep voice, only to be startled to see that Bruce was looking directly back at him. His mind suddenly went blank with the intensity of Bruce's gaze.

Dick just stared back, too flustered to do anything else. With every moment that passed as Dick gazed into Bruce's dark eyes, his heart thumped faster and faster.

Dick snapped back when he heard Alfred clear his throat politely and began speaking again from the other side of the table.

"Before you, sir, is a meal prepared and enjoyed only in a travelling circus. The cook under the employment of Haly's Circus prepares this very meal specially for festivals and the occasional events of wedding or anniversary." Alfred shot Dick a tiny smile before continuing. "I have reason to believe that Master Dick is especially fond of this dish."

Dick beamed up at Alfred, then Bruce.

"Bruce, you won't believe that this looks and smells exactly the way I remember it."

"Sure I will, Dick." Bruce's voice was effortlessly calm as he took a seat across from Dick. "I am quite aware of what Alfred is capable of making." Taking the hint, Alfred bowed slightly.

"Bon appétit, Masters." With that, Alfred left, probably only to wait in an unseen corner. Somehow Alfred always knew exactly where and when he was expected to reappear.

For a brief moment Dick wondered if Alfred would have made a good crime fighter with his skills as a butler. He imagined Alfred jumping from roof to roof in a suit alongside Batman and Robin, apologizing in his British accent every time he took a thug down. Dick couldn't suppress a grin at the thought of that.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Dick had already filled his plate and was pushing a spoonful of chicken and gravy in his mouth.

"Oh nothing." He said hurriedly. "Just another one of my crazy ideas."

"Mind telling me about them? I always found your ideas very amusing, Dick." Bruce sounded as if he was in an extraordinarily good mood, and Dick couldn't help but smile.

"Well, have you ever noticed how Alfred always knows about everything going on in the manor, and how he can always tell exactly when he's needed?" Dick lowered his voice a little, almost whispering what he said next. "Don't you think he could put those skills to use out there?" Dick motioned with his thumb to the general direction of the batcave.

"I suppose he can, Dick, if he isn't always so insistent about caring for the manor's well-being so consistently." Bruce was obviously not serious, and Dick was honestly very surprised to hear Bruce crack a joke. To top that, Bruce even smiled with it. One thing he had learned about Bruce in the past six months was that the billionaire never joked, unless he's playing the spoiled playboy façade, but that didn't actually count.

"Or making one heck of a dinner for us." Dick added and took a massive bite off of a roll; Bruce smiled a little more at that.

"How's school, Dick?" The sudden change in topic put Dick off guard and he didn't get the chance to think about what he was going to say, so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Great. My classmates are always very nice. I think most of them like me quite much."

"That's good to hear. Your teachers also tell me you're catching up very well." Dick remembered how bored he was that afternoon at school. Those dusty men and women who called themselves teachers barely qualified for their title. There was an actual chance that they could be quite smart, but that fact was drowned out by one thing: They. Were. Boring. The only teacher Dick thought who was worthy of his respect was the man right in front of him. The Batman himself.

"I do have the best mentor anyone can ask for. How do you think I got an A for Civil Studies and Spanish?" Dick grinned, and on second thought added, "And for gymnastics?"

"Dick, I couldn't have possibly helped you anymore in gymnastics than I do now. I just hope you didn't show off too much."

"No Bruce, that's not what I meant." Dick could barely suppress a giggle when he saw Bruce blink once. "If it weren't for you, how else did I manage enough self-control not to earn myself an A+?"

The rest of dinner continued in the same manner. Bruce asked Dick questions from one side of the table, and Dick chattered happily from the other end. Occasionally, Bruce would even throw in a joke. Dick would just say something witty back and giggle some more at seeing his otherwise gloomy guardian in such a good mood. All in all, dinner was spent in light-hearted ease.

It was a rare occasion where they could both sit down together and relax over an excellent dinner. Alfred is a genius, Dick thought as he watched the immaculately dressed butler take away plates to make way for dessert. He's probably the only man alive who knows how to give Bruce such a good mood.

Dick was just telling Bruce exactly why he should be allowed to watch late-night movies on the weekends (provided they didn't have to go on patrol, obviously). He really didn't want to miss watching a rerun of The Sound of Music that Friday night. Bruce was effortlessly striking every single one of Dick's arguments down.

Bruce's persistent smirk made Dick all the more determined to convince Bruce, even when he decided quite some time ago that Bruce was, as always, right and that going to bed was probably a much better idea.

Dick was heatedly thinking up a new defense argument when Bruce shifted in his seat. Dick looked up to see that the smirk had disappeared and his eyes took on uncanny glint. The next thing Bruce said threw Dick off-balance.

"Say Dick, would you tell me more about your friends?" His tone told Dick nothing and Dick wondered whether Bruce genuinely wanted to know or if he had just found another way to win the argument. Dick searched eyes that felt as if they were boring holes into his skull, but found nothing, again.

"My friends? Do you mean the ones at school?"

"Yes."

"Well… Everyone's really nice and kind. They asked a lot of questions at first, which was honestly a little more than annoying, but that quickly passed. Most of them tell me they really like spending time with me and sometimes-"

"I meant a little more specific." Bruce interrupted with the exact same lusterless tone and expression. "Is there anyone in particular you spend more time with?"

"Uh, well… there's a boy from gymnastics I always end up having to help. And another one that I always end up getting paired up with in class projects. There's one more that always gets seated next to me." Dick paused to recall the hours he spent at school. "I also know an older boy who comes by every lunch break to eat lunch together with me. I'm not quite sure from which class he is, but he told me he goes to another school that's right beside ours." Bruce narrowed his eyes a little, and by then Dick was flipping all kinds of questions in his head. The look Bruce had meant danger. It's the same one Dick recognized from when they're following a lead as Batman and Robin. What exactly was Bruce getting at?

"The building beside yours is a Highschool. How much older is he?"

"Geez, Bruce. I can't tell just by looking at him. He's very nice to me, so don't worry." Just then Alfred came with a bowl of ice cream. Dessert looked absolutely delicious and Dick couldn't stop himself from digging into it immediately. After swallowing and realizing that Bruce was still waiting, still staring, Dick continued uncertainly. "Around 4 to 5 years? He probably looks older than he really is."

"Why is that?"

"He told me he's the captain of the football team, which is not as impressive as he thinks it sounds." Dick sniggered a little despite the heat Bruce's eyes were giving off. "He's quite big, not nearly as big as you are, but it still makes him look a whole lot older than he is." At that, Bruce narrowed his eyes even more, not even attempting to hide the dark suspicion boiling in them.

"The primary and Highschool buildings are quite a distance away. Did you ever ask him why he bothers?" This was not Bruce, this was the Batman talking, as direct and efficient as any living man could ever be. And efficient it definitely was.

"Yeah, once, a couple of weeks ago." Dick said in between mouthfuls of creamy vanilla ice cream. It was hard not to feel a little suffocated when Bruce was looking at him like that. He just hoped vanilla ice cream was enough of a distraction to keep a straight face. "It was raining quite hard and there was wind too, but he still came. I thought that was kind of silly of him, so I asked him why he wouldn't have preferred to eat lunch with his other friends that day."

"What did he say?"

"His answer was just as silly. He told me that a little rain would never keep him from coming to see me. Really, Bruce, the only thing he does when we eat is talk about how well he did on his last game. He couldn't possibly be some kind of criminal. He probably just likes me." Bruce's eyebrows puckered into a kind of frown and he looked down in thought. Seeing his chance, Dick seized it.

"What's with the sudden questions, Bruce?" The brooding figure quickly snapped up and Bruce almost instantly returned to his earlier easy mood.

"I was just wondering how you're doing socially, Dick. It's not always easy to fit into a completely different lifestyle in such a short time."

"I guess so. I don't really mind change that much. I'm quite used to it. Living with a travelling circus did mean you had to move from city to city every other week." He wasn't looking at Bruce when he said that; he was much too busy licking the last remains of the creamy substance from his spoon. After a pause he added, "Don't worry about me, Bruce".

He shot the older man a reassuring smile as he spoke. Bruce didn't say anything. His midnight-blue eyes burned with something Dick couldn't quite put his finger on.

Notes: So, what did you guys think of a Dick P.O.V? Love it? Hate it?
Please shout out all your burning comments and/or questions in the comment section :)
Knowing what you guys would love to hear will help a lot with making the third chapter.

P.s. Julie Madison was Bruce's love interest in a Batman limited series called Dark Moon Rising.