ok guys, here is my attempt at some fluffish/humorish kind of writing. Let me know what you all think and if you want to read more. I would be happy to continue the story, but I do a lot of writing and really don't want to post stories people won't enjoy reading. So please, let me know what you think and don't afraid to be honest. Don't be mean, but be honest. Anyways, enjoy!

Bruce sat quietly in the dining room, his place at the head of the table as he read over The Gotham Times. He was very aware of the silence, the lack of his perpetually arguing sons and their loud and often cruel insults to one another. He looked over his paper with his steel blue eyes. Four empty chairs stared back. He checked his watch; it was five after seven.

Since Jason's return to the mansion, the boys were always at the table by seven. It was something Alfred had insisted upon. He warned them immediately that unless something drastic took place, he would not be making five separate meals at different times. If they were going to eat dinner, they were to be sitting at the table at seven o' clock and the meal would be presented at seven fifteen. The meal would be cleared at seven fifty and leftovers placed in the refrigerator. If they missed the evening meal, they could heat it up themselves in the microwave.

Ten more minutes. He thought to himself as brought the ends of his paper together and opened it to the next page. Something told him he really should worry about why his four sons weren't at the table. Damian and Tim had learned the hard way that if they weren't at the table on time, Jason would help himself to either of their plates and after only a day or two of that, not to be out done, Dick followed suit. So knowing that all four boys weren't present was actually beginning to worry him.

With a frustrated sigh, Bruce set his paper down on the table and began his search of the mansion. The first place he checked was the theater room, nothing. He went next to the game room where they kept a pool table, poker table, dart board, and a craps table; again nothing. Next he searched all their bedrooms: four times he was unable to find his sons. He rolled his eyes as he shook his head, the bat cave. Duh.

"Boys?" He called as he walked toward his large computer. He couldn't believe it; they weren't down there either. Where could they be? Better ask Alfred.

He traveled up the stairs quickly and found the old butler in the kitchen. "Alfred, have you seen the boys today?"

Alfred looked up at him and blinked before answering as he gave him a rather confused and concerned look. "Why yes, Master Wayne. The four young masters are in the dining room eating their meal."

Bruce's brow furrowed as he shook his head and rolled his eyes. Of course they were at the table. They probably arrived as soon as he had walked into the theater room. He made his way to the dining room, half fearing that Jason had already taken his meal. The boy was bigger and seemed to require a lot more food than his leaner, shorter brothers.

The moment Bruce entered the dining room he was accosted by thick flakes of glitter and colorful confetti. Dick and Tim shouted "Surprise!", while Jason and Damian merely spoke the word. In the center of the table was a, well it appeared to be a bat? Honestly, Bruce couldn't tell what the two layer gray and black cake was supposed to be shaped as, but there were several candles, far more than the years he had lived, all lit and waiting to be blown out. Large yellow letters spelled out 'Happy Birthday Dad/Bruce/Whatever' and it was apparent that who ever had been in charge of the writing frosting had a lot of difficulty until a very nice cursive took over after the word 'Birthday'. He knew the neat hand writing belonged to Jason.

"Told you being late for dinner would get him to search for us. Pay up, Jason." Tim demanded as he held a hand out expectantly to his older brother.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Jason smirked as he handed over a ten dollar bill.

"Todd, isn't that the ten dollars you took from Drake's wallet earlier this afternoon?" Damian grinned wickedly.

"Shut up shithead!" Jason snapped.

"Jason, language!" Bruce yelled.

"You did what?" Tim demanded as his own bright blue eyes narrowed on the taller, bigger, ravenette.

"The little prick is lying just to pick a fight between us!" Jason denied angrily. "Don't let him play you for a fool, Pretender!"

"Jase, don't call him that!" Dick growled.

"And watch your language!" Bruce added.

"Hey fuck you guys, I ain't getting ganged up on by Bats and Dickhead again!" Jason shook his head. "Bruce control your spawn, he's trying to start shit! Tim, that's not your ten dollar bill, it was mine!"

"Yeah, that's what he says when he takes your money. 'It's mine now'!" Damian laughed maniacally as he tried to mimic Jason. "Once a criminal always a criminal, right Todd?"

"Look you little fucker, I'm gonna-"

"ENOUGH." Bruce didn't quite shout, but his raised voice immediately silenced the boys as they each took a seat. Jason crossed his arms over his chest angrily, Tim glared hatefully at both Jason and Damian while Dick looked to Bruce. "Thank you boys, for this birthday surprise." Bruce smiled. He walked over to the cake thing and once he had the attention of all four he was able to blow them all out, though he did notice the Damian seemed a little eager to help if it became necessary.

"So how many candles are there?" Bruce asked but he had already done a quick count and sixty-seven just seemed a little mean.

"Well, it was all Jason's idea." Tim informed him.

"What?" Jason demanded with a look of incredulity.

"Come on, Jaybird, you can admit it. It's not like Bruce will kick you out being crippled and all." Dick grinned.

"Trying to blame me because you think I won't get into trouble with B just shows what a coward you really are, Dickie." Jason rolled his teal eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Be careful, Grayson, if you hurt Todd's feelings he might run away again." Damian smirked.

"Alright, boys, why don't we all just sit down and eat the meal Alfred no doubt spent a lot of time preparing and then we'll move on to the cake?"

Knowing Bruce's silence was not an invitation to pick up their argument where it had left off, the four black haired, blue eyed boys looked to their untouched plates. One of Bruce's many favorite meals had been prepared; an onion filled meatloaf, mashed potatoes with hot brown gravy and steamed green beans and asparagus. They had been waiting for him to sit down before they dug into the home cooked meal.

"This looks amazing!" Dick smiled.

"A turd would look amazing to you Golden Boy." Jason snickered.

"Really, Jason? A turd?" Dick sneered in disgust.

Bruce was just about to take a bite when the word 'turd' got thrown across the table, twice. He set his fork down and pinned Jason with one of his most threatening bat-glares. "Are we really going to bring that kind of toilet humor to the dinner table?"

"Oh, uh...no. Sorry, Bruce." Jason grimaced. Even he could admit that was kind of a gross thing to say while trying to eat.

Turning to Dick, Bruce used the glare on his oldest. "And are we really going to repeat that kind of wording at the dinner table, Dick?"

"No, I am sorry. It won't happen again." Dick promised as he immediately looked down, a little embarrassed at his behavior.

"Can we eat now, or do Todd and Grayson wish to frighten off our appetites further?" Damian asked pompously.

"Just shut up and eat, Demon Brat." Tim snapped.

"All of you just shut up and eat." Bruce growled, appearing rather angry. He couldn't let his sons know that he was secretly amused by their constant bickering, that it showcased their wide array of personalities and reminded him of why he loved each of them. If they knew that, they'd eat him alive.

The four young men quickly quieted down as they started to eat. Bruce felt like the silence was a little unnerving and yet he wasn't about to coax them into their arguments again. He really did enjoy Alfred's cooking and it was very nice having his sons surrounding him as well. He took a bite of his mashed potatoes as a shiver went up his spine. His blue eyes immediately narrowed on Damian as he saw the boy launch a spoonful of potatoes at Tim.

Tim's pale blue eyes widened in surprise as the glop landed directly on his left eye and cheek bone. He blinked a few times as Jason chuckled openly, while Dick tried to hide his smile. Damian on the other hand grinned widely, challenging him to return the attack. At first, Bruce was sure that Tim would simply wipe away the potatoes and ignore his youngest brother, until of course a second spoon full landed on his chin.

"Jason!" Bruce shouted.

"Damian started it." Jason shrugged. "Tiny Tim over there looked like he still wasn't sure what happened. I just wanted to make it clear."

"That's it!" Tim shouted as he stood, knocking his chair backward so that it tumbled to the floor with a loud clatter. He picked up two handfuls of his potatoes and flung them at t

Before Bruce had a chance to say another word, food was flung with excessive force from all four sons at one another. His steely blue eyes widened in surprise as Damian flung himself across the table to tackle Tim, too bad Jason had other plans for the thirteen-year-old. Jason slammed the boy back down into the table with a hearty laugh. This abruptly ended when Dick shoved a large handful of the bat cake into Jason's hair. At once, the food fight broke into a fight between Dick and Jason who were shoving, punching, biting and kicking at each other while Damian pounced onto Jason's back. Tim however grabbed hold of Damian's shirt collar and started strangling him while the younger boy's legs wrapped tightly around Jason's torso as he and Dick continued trading blows.

Standing silently, Bruce then walked to the doorway and shook his head. "Boys." Nothing. "Boys!" He said a little more aggressively but to no avail. "BOYS!" Finally he had their attention and so he spoke very calmly and with a smile. "Wait until Alfred sees what you have done to his dining room."

There was no mistaking the fear that crept over each boy's face as they instantly stilled. Dick was the first to run into the kitchen to grab cleaning supplies, followed quickly by Tim and Damian. Jason hobbled over to the table and started gathering what he could of the food and plopping it all back on to the plates they had originally been on. Once the other three returned the four boys cleaned as quickly and thoroughly as they could.

Bruce smirked. "Good luck with that, boys and thank you again for the birthday meal."


Sitting in his study Bruce looked over several emails from some business contacts. He was at his desk, trying to concentrate on stocks, data reports and things of extreme importance to Wayne Enterprises but his thoughts were distracting. He kept looking over at the individual pictures of his boys, well three anyhow. For a long time, Jason's had been to hurtful to see and so he had placed the picture in a drawer. When Jason returned, he just wasn't the same kid he had known before and it seemed insulting to the current Jason that he place the old photo on his desk. He wished he had another, but Jason was very good at avoiding cameras and he'd yet to get a decent one.

His boys were so different and yet so very much the same from their pictures. A four teen year-old Dick's easy smile looked up at him cheerily. The bright and positive outlook had kept Bruce's head straight for years, even when it had driven him to the point of madness. Most people believed that Dick looked up to Bruce and while that might be true, one thing most people didn't know was that Bruce looked up to Dick in many ways. Despite the boy sharing such a terrible past that was so close to his own, he had never lost sight of compassion, love and just finding a way to be happy. It was something Bruce often wished he had been able to find.

Tim's photo was next, it wasn't a professional photo like Dick's was. Tim's was of a fifteen-year old version of himself taken about a year or so ago during a chess match between him and Alfred. Bruce had been reading when he looked up and found the look on his face so endearing he had subtly taken the shot. Tim's pale blue eyes were focused in concentration, his mouth firmly shut and his shoulder hunched over. Even though his eyes were mostly comprised of his focused determination, the one thing that had caught Bruce's attention was the hint of uncertainty. To Bruce, this picture was the essence of Timothy Drake. Focused, determined, strong and yet secretly unsure of himself. Everyday his third oldest grew more self-assured but Bruce always worried about Tim and whether the boy really knew just how much he and the others cared about him.

Damian's picture was one he had taken when the boy first arrived. It had been take by Oracle when the boy was petting a cat. His face was gentle, serene and he seemed like he was a real ten year old who had never witness the violent death of another man. There was protective innocence in his dark blue eyes as he lovingly stroked his cat's ears. He need to get an updated picture of all four of his boy, but this one he would always have a hard time putting away or replacing. His son, flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood was a boy who teetered on the fence that separated good from evil. More so than Jason, Bruce feared that his youngest was doing things for the wrong reason. Perhaps Jason had been right about what he was teaching Damian. The boy didn't fight crime to protect people, he fought crime because it's what his father did.

A knock pulled him from his thoughts. "Come in." Bruce called, his eyes quickly returning to the computer screen. Standing in the doorway were all four of his boys. "Did you get that mess cleaned up?"

"Yeah, but we would each like a one on one talk with you." Dick smiled. "Mostly because we are all four highly competitive and had to make sure that our gifts weren't one-upped by each other."

Bruce laughed and shook his head. "Alright. Who is going first?"

"We decided to go from youngest to oldest." Tim answered. "So the Dem-er Damian is up first."