Warning: Small Bit of Language . . .


Bruce stepped out of the shower, rubbing the water out of his hair. He had showered last night, but sometimes he just needed the water to wake him up. Last night, he hadn't slept well worrying over the accident that could have so easily taken his son from him. He was calmer now, and he needed to come up with a way to impress onto Kid Flash the importance of remaining focused on the mission and not playing with strange devices in evil scientists' laboratories.

He tucked his towel around his hips as he moved to the mirror to shave and finish up his morning ritual. Afterwards he moved into his closet. It was as large as a small bedroom by itself. To one side hung his business suits, on the short wall straight ahead of him were casual clothing. The last wall contained several tuxes, a shelving unit full of shoes, drawers that contained his small clothes and socks as well as the top drawer being filled to the brim with cufflinks, watches, and tie clips. It was followed by more shelves with undershirts, t-shirts, and both sweats and shorts.

Bruce had just pulled on clothes suitable to work out in when a high-pitched scream ripped the air around him. He was running before it registered that the scream was feminine.

What the hell? There were not supposed to be any females currently in the manor.

The scream had sounded close by, and as Bruce had barreled into the hallway, he glanced at Dick's door. His son had only recently become interested in girls, but was still in the 'appreciate them from afar' stage. He had no girlfriends that Bruce was aware of, but that scream couldn't have come from any place other than Dick's bedroom!

"Bru-u-uce!"

He didn't recognize the voice, but it confirmed his suspicions of the girl's location. He burst through the door. His eyes skimmed the empty bed with its covers hanging off of the mattress and onto the floor. He could hear the girl's panicked gasps coming from the bathroom. He stormed over and shoved the door out of his way.

He had never seen her before, although he was certain she was familiar, he thought. She was staring at him in fear; tears hovering on dark lashes. He glanced around for his son. Whatever he was doing was not simply irresponsible but unforgivable! Sneaking a girl into his room was bad enough, but what had he done to her to make her so frightened? And why was she wearing his son's clothes?

Dick was so grounded for this!

He approached carefully and knelt in front of her, just a few feet away.

"It's going to be all right, miss . . ."

His attempt to soothe the girl was interrupted when she flung herself into his arms.

"Bruce! What's happening to me," she wailed.

Startled, he knelt on the floor with his arms out at his sides while she practically strangled the life out of him. He wondered at her temerity at calling him by his given name, but put that aside in favor of trying to calm her down.

"If you calm yourself, try to relax, I'm certain we can get you help . . ."

"Sir!" Alfred burst into the small room next. "I heard screams . . . Oh, I beg your pardon. Who is this young miss and where, might I ask, is Master Dick?"

"That's a good question, Alfred," Bruce growled.

"It's me," the girl said, easing away from Bruce; wiping her eyes with the back of one hand. "I'm right here!"

"Um, yes, I can see that," Bruce soothed, although he didn't see much of anything. Where was Dick? "I take it you are friends with my son. Can you tell us your name and who your parents are? I can give them a call and . . ."

"Bruce," she glared at him on her knees, her hands planted on her hips. "It's ME! I'm Dick!"

Bruce goggled. Had she hit her head? He glanced back at Alfred worriedly. The butler was staring at the girl in wonder.

"Bruce," she huffed. "Look, my name is Richard John Grayson, and my parents were John and Mary Grayson. They were trapeze artists who died when Tony Zucco put acid on the wires. You took me in because you also lost your parents to a criminal named Joe Chill."

He blinked. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility that she learned all of that from Dick himself, although he hadn't thought the boy would share such intimate details of their lives.

"You don't believe me," the girl whispered. She stood up, swaying slightly. She put her hand on the counter to steady herself and look despairingly in the mirror. "Not that I blame you. I wouldn't believe me either, but it's true, Bruce! I swear to you that it's true. I'm Dick Grayson!"

Obviously worried now, Bruce climbed to his feet as well.

"The boy that you were with," he said cautiously. "Do you know where he went?"

She looked up at him, determination settling over her features. "I can prove it's me," she told him. "Who else but Dick Grayson knows that you are Batman?"

"Dear Lord," Alfred came in and laid a hand across her brow. "She must be feverish."

Bruce was frowning now.

She pulled away. "Alfred, it's me! I am Dick Grayson! I am Batman's partner, Robin! I broke that Chinese vase in the conservatory last week because I broke the rules about tumbling in the house."

"You broke the vase?" Alfred repeated slowly.

She lowered her eyes in shame. "Yes, and in a moment of panic, I hid the pieces behind the potted palm. I'm sorry, Alfred! Sometimes the urge to move just kind of whelms me, and I just do it."

Alfred's eyes widened, and he threw a startled glance at Bruce and then looked back at the young girl. "Dear Lord! Master Dick! What happened to you?"

"I'm not sure," she looked between the two men. "But I think it had something to do with that laser Wally accidentally shot me with while on the mission yesterday."

Bruce's paled. "Dick?!"


Reactions?