Here's another ficlet, even though it's short. The next one won't be, I promise. By the way, I realized that I haven't been giving Dick's ages. In the first chapter, he is eight. Second chapter, nine. This chapter, he is ten years old. Also, forgive any errors. I'm still fighting a fever and losing. Huzzah.
Disclaimer: I don't own Batman.
Needed for Play
"Can I borrow your cape?"
Bruce looked up from the police files on his desk to find Dick standing in the library doorway.
"Why?" Bruce asked slowly.
"Me n' Wally are making a fort."
A what? "A what?"
"A fort," Dick repeated. There was something adamant in his expression, as if he were planning on using the cape even if Bruce refused. Young Richard Grayson was one for being stubborn while he wasn't playing vigilante.
"Why not use your own cape?" Bruce asked as a last resort, his attention wandering back to his work.
"My cape's half as big as yours. We're making a really big fort," Dick explained, some unnecessary pleading decorating his tone. Being the ward of a billionaire, Dick was not unaccustomed to getting what he wanted. He'd start with logic, then grow stubborn, and then begin to whine. Bruce preferred to give in before the whining started; Dick was ten years old, he deserved to get what he wanted every once in a while, not to mention that Bruce was still getting used to being a reasonable caretaker.
After giving the boy a long, contemplative look, the billionaire finally sighed.
"Put it back in its case when you're done," Bruce said as Dick grinned, "And please try not to get crumbs all over it."
Aww. Please review?