The Game

Chapter 3

"Master Dick! What a wonderful surprise!" Alfred's clear, gray eyes widened and a warm smile graced his dignified face. The grandfatherly butler moved to the side of the immense front door as a gesture for the young man to enter. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Dick grinned as he shrugged out of his heavy jacket. "Home cooking, Alfred."

"Ah." A twinkle in the older one's eyes betrayed that the little game currently being played by his charges was well-known to him. "I take it your new diet is not agreeing with you?"

"He stocked my refrigerator with tofu, Alfred!" Dick shuddered at the image of the near-gelatinous brick quivering in its container when he had finally been brave enough to touch it. "Tofu.He even replaced my hotdogs with some kind of alternative veggie dogs! I don't even want to know what an alternative veggie is, Alfred. I mean, do you know what kind of an insult that is to a circus brat? I grew up eating some of the best dogs in the country!"

"Oh, indeed, Master Dick." The tone revealed that the butler was highly amused at the boy's ranting. "I believe Master Bruce realized the insult as well."

Dick could only scoff and cross his arms over his chest. Alfred's smile grew as he gestured towards the kitchen. "I guess you could say that he took aimatyour belt instead of below it?"

The boy shook his head at the bad joke. "He threw out your cookies, you know." He said, dark eyebrow arched as the butler's expression was scrutinized at the revelation.

"I'm afraid you're wrong there, lad." Alfred gently contradicted. "He didn't throw them out."

A small gasp escaped. "He ate them?"

"Every last one, I believe."

Dick silently wallowed in his misery until they reached the small table in the breakfast nook of the spacious kitchen. He settled into one of the heavy oak chairs and propped his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his palms.

"I have to get him good, Alfred."

"I would expect nothing less, lad."

"Hm."

Dick bit his lip and narrowed his bright eyes, falling into a deep concentration while deciding just what he could do next. The rich aroma of freshly baked cookies that wafted under his nose barely registered with him.

"He made me eat broccoli, Alfred."

A soft chuckle escaped the butler as he placed a small porcelain plate on the round table. A glass filled to the brim with cold milk soon joined it.

"The nerve, Master Dick."

"Mmphf." The boy mumbled, shoving a warm peanut butter cookie whole into his mouth. Alfred shook his head in disapproval, watching the handsome face contort as the boy struggled to chew it all. "Did you know he used to put his broccoli on my plate when you weren't looking?"

"You don't say?"

Dick downed half the glass of the refreshing, crisp milk with a single gulp. "Uh-huh."

"Well, then…." More of the thick liquid was poured into the tall glass. "It's a good thing I always put a double helping on his plate to begin with."

A bright grin greeted the revelation. "Alfred, is there anything you don't know?"

"Quite a lot, lad." The man replied with a wry smile. "For instance, I don't know how Master Bruce is going to survive his date tonight with Councilman Roger's daughter. He has been brooding over just how to get out of it for almost two weeks now."

Dick shrugged, stuffing another whole cookie into his mouth. It earned him a sharp look of displeasure. "Why doesn't he just cancel?"

"Unfortunately, Master Dick, it's one of the times that Bruce Wayne must make a necessary appearance." Alfred explained. "The councilman is the one thing preventing Wayne Enterprises from being able to create quite a few jobs in the market district. It was mentioned more than once to Master Bruce that this date could persuade the man to change his mind."

"Ah, blackmail?" The striking young man questioned. "I think I like this guy's style."

"You'd be the only one, Master Dick."

A quiet sigh escaped the boy. "Who knows? Maybe she's nice, and he'll actually enjoy himself."

Alfred let a brief chuckle escape at the thought of his employer enjoying himself. It was a rarity in the man's darkening life.

"I hear, Master Dick, that she is as bad as her father." The butler suddenly pulled out a chair and settled across from the raven-haired boy. "It's going to put Bruce in quite a spot tonight. Quite a vulnerable spot."

A sudden realization sparked in the bright eyes of the aerialist phenom. He grinned as he jumped to his feet.

"I don't suppose I could get some of these cookies to go, Alfred?"

The kind butler gestured to the counter where a near overflowing container was already packed and waiting for him.

XXXXX

The background din of piano music and the ear-piercing voice of his date began to throb in Bruce's temple. He had already finished two glasses of wine, and they hadn't even finished their salads yet. His mind was far from the jabbering brunette across from him, delving instead into a more solemn world. As he leaned farther back into the dark maroon booth, offering his date his patented billionaire playboy smile, he began to map the route Batman would be following once Bruce Wayne was free.

"Bruce!"

The sudden booming voice startled the man, jarring him from his darker thoughts. His clear eyes widened in surprise as a familiar, striking young man slid into the booth and settled very close to him.

"I had no idea you'd be here!" Dick exclaimed, his dazzling smile and his sparkling eyes betraying that he was up to something. "And this must be….?"

"Heather." The young woman replied, her dark eyes darting from her date to the very handsome younger man now beside him. "Heather—"

"Rogers! Of course!" Dick ignored the look of utter surprise that was shot his way and offered Bruce's date his best grin. "Bruce has told me so much about you."

The girl drew back, an excited look in her eyes. "He has?"

"I have?"

Dick nodded, ignoring the jab just under his rib. He had felt it before—many times. It was a simple gesture, but one which spoke volumes, asking just what do you think you're doing?

"Yes. He's mentioned you quite frequently to me." Dick continued, his bright eyes and friendly smile laying on all of his infectious charm. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"And you are?"

"Oh, I see he hasn't mentioned me yet?" Dick asked, conjuring the best look of mock offense he could manage. "I'm his—"

"Ward." Bruce curtly interrupted, now realizing that the boy was up to something and more than afraid of just what the next word out of his mouth might be. "Dick is my ward. I've raised him since he was nine. Heather Rogers, this is Dick Grayson."

"Oh—I didn't realize you had a….well, it's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Dick leaned back a little, making himself comfortable. "So, Bruce, this wouldn't be the same Heather Rogers that you're taking up to the lake house this weekend, would it?"

"Oh,Brucie!" The shrill shriek reverberated deep in the shocked man's ears. Of course, Bruce had planned no such weekend, but the young woman took no notice of how her date had nearly spluttered his Chardonnay across the pristine table cloth. "How romantic! When were you planning on telling me?"

"I, uh…."

"Uh-oh." Dick drew his flashing eyes to the man, relishing the look of sheer torture that crossed his face. "Did I ruin the surprise?"

"Oh, I can't believe this, Brucie!"

But the intense mental and physical training that the older one had subjected himself to year after year did not go wasted. He buried his shock and soon enough began plotting his way out of the conundrum his clever ward had just created for him.

"Well, I'll understand if you can't go." He smoothly replied. "I haven't given you much notice. We can always—"

"Heather, you can't disappoint him like that!" Dick argued, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. "Lucius has rescheduled all of his meetings for Friday, and any….problems that might arise, I can certainly handle. Don't break his heart—tell him you'll go."

"Of course I'll go! I didn't realize we were getting so serious this fast, Bruce." Dick bit his tongue hard to stop a rising fit of laughter when he heard his guardian's pained groan. "Oh, my father will be very happy when he hears this!"

Dick ignored the now much harder jab in his side. "Your father is Councilman Rogers?"

"Yes. Do you know him, too?"

"Oh, no. I don't meet many of Bruce's friends since I moved."

"You don't live at the manor?"

Dick shook his head. "Not anymore." He reached over and downed the rest of Bruce's wine before grabbing the roll off of its small, cream-colored plate and tearing it in half. "Now it's kind of empty and lonely and needing a woman's touch, right Bruce?"

"Well—"

"Oh, Brucie, that placeismuch too gloomy! I know the perfect decorator. I'll have to call her in the morning."

"Uh—"

"I agree." Dick interrupted on cue. "It's very gloomy, right, Daddy Wayne?"

Bruce just blinked in disbelief at the never-before uttered moniker. "What—"

"Daddy Wayne?"

"Oh, yeah—that's what we used to call him back at the children's home." Dick explained. This time, he was not able to curb his choked laughter when he glanced at the incredulous look that filled his guardian's clear eyes. "Because he wanted so many of us—you know, like Daddy Warbucks fromAnnie? Anyway, I think I was on sale or something—"

"Dick."

The boy could hear the warning clearly enough in the edgy voice.That's not true and youknowit. Heather was completely oblivious to the subtext of her conversation with the charming young man.

"Well, maybe noton sale, but I was the lucky one he picked." Dick shoved the torn roll in his mouth in a move that would have made Alfred cringe in horror. "Anyway, he's always talking about wanting a ton of children to fill up the manor. You want children, don't you, Heather?"

"Oh, absolutely! And I know my father will be thrilled at having so many grandchildren!"

Bruce shook his head in utter defeat. He had taken all he could. Here this incredulous boy had practically redecorated the home that had been in his family for generations, married him off to this banshee and filled the manor with screaming brats in a record time of five minutes, when all Bruce had wanted was to end this date and slip into the more comfortable skin of the Bat. Not only that, but his entire weekend was now, without a doubt, completely ruined. He had to hand it to the kid. Dick had certainly won this round.

"Wait until I tell—Oh, there's Marianne!" Even Dick cringed at the shriek that time. "I have to go tell her about our romantic getaway! I'll be right back, darling."

Dick grinned, watching as she slid out of the booth. "Wow, Brucie and darling." He mused, turning to face his mentor. "She must really like you."

Bruce just crossed his arms over his chest and gave the younger one a glare that would have sent chills down the spine of Victor Fries. Dick, however, was far too thrilled with his victory and remained undaunted.

"Iwillget you back for this."

The raven-haired hero could only chuckle as he slid out of the booth, grabbing the other half of Bruce's roll along the way. Before he left, he leaned down, lips close to Bruce's ear, and whispered words for him only. "You shouldn't have eaten my cookies."

Bruce waited until the now whistling boy was long gone from the restaurant before he finally allowed an impressed smile to cross his lips.

XXXXX

Bludhaven had not been kind to her guardian that night. Five fights, two attempted robberies, and one grazed bullet wound—and that was just in the first hour of Nightwing's patrol. The boy was exhausted. He was sore. He was bleeding. And he was hungry.

But the entire night, there was a smile on his face that no criminal could obliterate.

He had finally gotten the best of Bruce.

That smile was still as bright almost six hours later when the boy finally made it back to his apartment. The city was quiet now, lulled into an uneasy peace as it waited for the murky dawn. As he gingerly slid into his apartment, a sudden luscious aroma brushed against him, wafting into his nose. One so strong, one that made his stomach grumble so loudly, that he thought he had dreamed it. But a quick glance into his kitchen told his pleased senses that it was very real.

There, sitting on his small second-hand table, were two very large, overflowing chilidogs, each topped with everything that Dick adored on this relished meal. The boy drew back when he realized there was still steam emanating from the delicious and unexpected offering. His clear eyes darted up and around the apartment, but the open window revealed he had just missed the cowled delivery boy. He shook his head, reaching out with his gloved hand for the note that was slipped under the plate.

Thought you might be hungry for something other than tofu.

Nice move tonight. I think that earned youtwopoints. That leaves the ball in my court.

By the way, Dick, I only ever wanted one child.

—'Daddy' Wayne

Dick didn't realize just how bright his smile was.

"I guess it wasn't just because I was on sale after all." He mused, reaching for one of the enormous dogs. He didn't even bother to take off his gloves.