A/N: Happy birthday Jayto! I wanted to write something for you, but time was too short… I thought that the next chapter of this story might be appreciated, though? A whole week early! But don't worry, there'll be another one next Friday as well, I'm not gonna skip a week or anything… ;)

And, yeah, the rest of you get to read it too… But only if you send Jayto imaginary presents! Oh, and tell me what they were in a review! ;)

2060

Chapter 6: Of Authority and Fighters

They entered an elevator in the reception-area, and Robin pushed all his apprehension aside to pay attention to where they were going. It seemed Slade's office and living-quarters were on one of the top floors, and now they were to go just one floor down.

Robin watched as Slade pushed the button and he couldn't see any indicators that codes were needed, but, on the other hand, the controls could be thumb-print activated. He didn't really feel that this was quite the time to ask.

As the doors parted there was an open, square area in front of them, with a few doors on each wall to choose from. None of them seemed to be marked, and Slade led him through the first one on the left. Robin looked around in what appeared to be a dressing-room, and almost tripped when Slade suddenly released his arm. The man then started to unbutton his shirt, making the teen somewhat nervous.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm changing. You are familiar with the concept of changing before you go into a gym, aren't you?"

Robin, who saw an opportunity to get out of his ridiculous outfit, relaxed.

"Okay… so where is my stuff?"

"I haven't gotten you any." The man shrugged out of his shirt and then pulled off the wife-beater he had on underneath.

"So I'm to wear this?" Robin snorted and gestured to himself. Slade, for the first time, seemed to notice the teen's attire. The man smirked.

"That will do for now. Nice panties,"

"Just what William said." Robin muttered. "Who dresses me, really? How do you come up with this stuff?"

"Oh, I gave your measurements to my managers. They will try to dress you in what they think I will like. They have even made sure to number the outfits and have drawn lots on the order you will wear them in…"

"Your team of killers and brothel-owners?"

"In part, yes."

"Wonderful. Can't wait for the French maid outfit." Robin snorted.

"Me neither."

Robin muttered under his breath, trying not to stare as Slade kicked his shoes off, and then unbuttoned his pants. The man had very nice, form-fitting underwear on, and Robin decided to look on a tiny smudge on the wall for a while. As he turned back, Slade had dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and, just as Robin, he was barefoot.

"Let's begin. We will spar, but I warn you; I won't hold back."

"You used to?" Robin asked.

"Oh, yes." The man answered smugly.

"You know what the funny thing is?" Robin asked.

"No?"

Robin smirked.

"So did I."

It was true, actually. Robin had always held back when he fought people. With robots and equipment there was no reason to, but, deep down, the teen really didn't want to hurt anyone, not terminally anyway. But now, knowing Slade was immortal and that he could hurt a punching-bag worse than the man, Robin quite looked forward to the fight. He just hoped his pants wouldn't fall down.

The gym was immense and divided in different sections. Slade led him to an empty area with a red circle on the floor, about ten meters wide.

"Put as much as a toe outside the line and you lose." The man told him.

Robin snorted.

"And what happens then?"

"Usually, execution…" Slade smirked. "I'd like to keep you around for a bit longer, though, so if you lose you have to live with the shame."

"Nu-huh." Robin shook his head. "I want real stakes. It's much more fun that way."

"You really don't recognize a break when you're given one, do you?" Slade shook his head, clearly bemused.

"I'm stupid that way. So if I win, I want normal clothes, a blanket and two pillows, and I don't want to stay in the cell so much."

"You can have a blanket and pillows." Slade snorted.

"That afraid to lose?" Robin bit back.

"Not really. Didn't want to risk the French maid outfit, though." The man shrugged. "If you lose, then-"

"I can rebuild the robot?" Robin asked hopefully.

"Not likely. You would love that, and I'm not giving you any tools. If you lose… I think I will demand a kiss."

Robin tensed.

"You can have a handshake?" he suggested.

"I could demand a lot more." Slade pointed out.

"Okay… a kiss… on the cheek?"

"What do you think?"

"That I'm not that lucky…"

"That's right. Now. Let's start. If any one of us moves outside the red line, an alarm will sound. The fight is also over if one of us gives up."

Robin nodded. He knew his only chance was to get Slade outside the line, possibly by making him lose his balance, because making Slade give up? Well, that just wouldn't happen.

"I want some warm-up-time." Robin told Slade as they moved in position. "I haven't done this in fifty years, you know. Besides, I'm fighting in a thong here! You ever done that? Please say yes, it would make my day."

"We'll have a five minute practice round." The man allowed and attacked.

After the five minutes had passed, Robin had discovered that the pants actually wasn't that bad to move in, once he was sure they wouldn't fall off. They felt glued to him, and even though his old tights allowed for a bit more flexibility, he couldn't really say that they hindered him.

He had also discovered, or rather rediscovered, what pain felt like. Slade, it appeared, was not trying to break his bones or even cause much bruising, instead he went for the nerve centers, where a slight pressure on the right point could make Robin scream out in agony. It seemed Slade had spent a lot of the last fifty years perfecting this technique.

Robin, however, gave as good as he got.

"You're not used to fighting people who actually can fight, are you?" the teen smirked as he landed on his feet after a particularly successful series of kicks. "I bet you only fight terrified employees or weakened slaves."

"You have a point. Should have brought you back years ago." Slade grinned, looking much happier than Robin would have liked.

"Just-" Robin ducked "not fighting people didn't occur to you?"

"It's mainly self defense." Slade claimed, making sure not to back down another step, as Robin had him dangerously close to the line.

"Sure it is… how so?" Robin almost laughed.

"They have a different opinion than I have, so, naturally, I have to defend myself and kill them." Slade said.

"Yes. Naturally." Robin answered dryly. He enjoyed fighting full out, even though he didn't feel as strong as he remembered. After only half an hour his muscles were trembling rather badly, and he found himself on the defense more often than not. Slade, however, only seemed to intensify his efforts, and soon Robin felt like there wasn't a cell in his body that didn't hurt.

"You might want to give up." Slade suggested.

"You might want to drop dead." Robin replied between his teeth. "I'm fighting for my pillow here!"

"Well, you know what I'm fighting for…" Slade leered.

"Yeah, that only makes me want to- fuck!" Robin cried out as Slade's foot made him throw himself backwards, missing crossing the line with only a hairsbreadth to spare.

"Now, now, baby steps…" Slade chuckled.

Robin was too tired, and soon he wasn't able to get out of the way quickly enough. A foot hit him in the stomach, and when he landed, a signal sounded. The teen looked down. Yeah. He couldn't really argue with Slade's win, since he was completely outside the ring.

He muttered and was about to get up, when a hand landed on his chest and pushed him back against the floor. Robin startled as Slade had practically pounced on top of him, straddling his legs and leaning forward, until their faces were only inches apart.

"Time for my prize…" the man leered.

"Not fair. If I had won, I wouldn't be getting my pillow yet!" Robin objected, trying, and failing, to crawl backwards.

"Hmmm… are you saying you want me to do this tonight… in bed?"

Robin rolled his eyes.

"Oh, just get it over with."

"No, no, no, Robin… I won just one kiss, but I warn you; we will keep at it until it is done right, so if you plan to be unresponsive or, say, bite, think again."

"I didn't plan to do anything, I don't know how!" Robin objected, slightly flushed by the admittance.

"Ah, I forgot. My poor little virgin. Don't worry, I'll teach you… about everything." the man added with a little smirk, and then he leaned down.

Robin wet his lips nervously and closed his eyes. If he thought his heart had been racing before, it was nothing to now, and he wasn't even in any real danger. As Slade's lips touched his, Robin forgot how to breathe. He was painfully tense, but, at the same time, he wanted this to be a good kiss, because if it wasn't, he had to do it all over again. The problem, though, was that he wasn't quite certain how to make sure it would be good.

Slade lips massaged his in a way that made them tingle, just like in the dream, and Robin tried to copy the movements a little. The man seemed to want him to open his mouth, and, after hesitating for a moment, Robin slowly parted his lips a bit more. The feeling of the tip of the man's tongue caressing his bottom lip, almost made Robin snap his teeth shut from the surprise, but he caught himself in time and tried to relax, focusing on getting some air. He continued to mimic the man's move, but didn't dare to use his tongue. Slade did, however, although not overly aggressively, but, soon enough, Robin felt it slide into his mouth a bit. Not wanting it down his throat, Robin moved his own tongue now, and, just lightly, the tips touched, making the teen gasp with surprise, as the intensifying tingle he had felt now turned into a flash, which went straight to his groin. Thankfully, Slade ended the kiss then and drew back, chuckling slightly. Robin knew the man was making fun of his expression, he felt how flushed he was, and he probably looked a bit dazed as well.

"It appears that you enjoyed that." the man smirked.

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm a teenager, a lecture on mold would turn me on."

"So you're turned on, are you?" The man grinned even wider now. As he wasn't pinning Robin to the floor anymore, the teen shuffled out from under him and stood up, snorting.

"Go see a whore, Slade, you obviously need it."

"I don't think you want to throw the first stone here…" Slade said, and Robin turned away to hide his blush. He started walking, half limping, towards the exit.

"Where do you think you're going?" Slade asked, making Robin stop.

"What? We're done, right?"

"My dear pet… we haven't even started yet. We have the gym left, don't we?"

"Come on, Slade, I'm beat!"

"Yes, you are… but you begged to come here, and I'm going to make sure you get the full experience…" Slade smiled evilly.

"Ten more."

Sweat was streaming down Robin's face as he glared up at the man standing above him. He was trying to bench press rather more than he usually did, and he literally felt the pressure.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"Five more for talking back." his spotter said evenly.

"Come on! I-"

"Five more. You're up to twenty in total. Let's see how steep this learning-curve is to climb, shall we?"

"Fuck you."

"Twenty more."

"WHAT?!"

"That was an open insult, you pay more for those. And five more for questioning me. Any more objections?"

Robin glared, but stayed silent. He fantasized about just dropping the weight, breaking his own neck, just to get out of Slade's little punishment and annoy him, but, Robin figured, he could probably annoy him more in the long run, by staying alive.

"Good boy." Slade smirked down on him.

Robin tried to ignore how much his arms, chest and back hurt, and, not to forget, how close Slade's crotch was to his face. He, to his own surprise, actually managed to complete the session, although he was pretty sure parts of his arms had died in the process.

Slade then changed places with him, and, Robin found, having his own crotch close to Slade's face wasn't at all that daunting, the thought of it was actually-

"Stop daydreaming and put on more weights, twenty kilos on either side." Slade told him. Robin tried not to whimper as he hoisted the weights in place and secured them. His body would never forgive him for this.

They moved on, mostly working side by side, although Slade was in charge of the settings on the machines Robin used, and told him how many repetitions he should do. The teen kept his mouth shut and his mind focused on the task ahead, as he was convinced that back talking at this point would kill him.

Finally, after an hour and a half, Slade seemed to be done. After a thorough stretching-program, which Robin was very grateful for, because he knew that the pain he felt during it was nothing to the pain he would feel in the morning without it, the man headed for the door, and Robin hobbled along behind him.

"Can we just go eat now?" Robin asked, not caring if he sounded pitiful. His stomach was screaming at him that he should have eaten an hour ago, and he had completely emptied the little resources he had.

"Now, now, Robin, we have just worked out. What happens after that? Come on, boy, think… I know you can figure it out…" Slade chuckled and pulled his t-shirt over his head, throwing it in a clothes-bin in the corner.

Robin blinked. The man didn't mean…?

"Oh… I'll… wait my turn." Robin decided and turned around as the man pulled down his pants.

"Oh, no, I'm not letting you out of my sight. Strip." Slade ordered. "Here's a towel if you're feeling bashful."

Robin turned around to take the offered protection, but momentarily froze as Slade had had time to undress completely.

"It's not polite to stare." the man smirked.

"What at, it's only about average!" Robin shot back. For a Clydesdale… he thought to himself.

"I'm sure it is." Slade chuckled and walked into an adjoining room where the showers must be. "I'll count to ten, and if you haven't joined me by then…" Slade let the sentence hang in the air, but Robin had become quite good at filling in the blanks. As soon as the man had disappeared, Robin hurriedly pulled his clothes off, his shirt making a wet sound as it hit the side of the bin; it was completely soaked in sweat. He then tied the towel around his hips and followed.

As soon as he entered the room, however, he stopped again.

"There's only one shower!" he exclaimed.

"Yes? This is my private gym, and even though I sometimes bring guests, this is my personal dressing-room. Why would there be more than one?"

"But… how…?" Robin firmly kept his eyes on Slade's face. The man was already under a spray of water, and Robin felt his skin begging for the refreshing feeling he knew came with that.

"I'm sure you are familiar with the concept of sharing? Good boys like you always are. It's big enough."

For a moment Robin thought Slade was talking about something else, but he realized quickly that the man actually meant the shower itself, and he had to agree there. It was a big stall, large enough for two men of Slade's size to shower together comfortably. Robin quickly put that image out of his head. Perhaps he would revisit it later, in private. There were also several nozzles, spraying water from both sides. He still didn't quite agree with Slade's idea of generosity, though.

"Yes, but- oh, screw it." Robin knew he was going to lose, so why argue? He unwrapped his towel, and, giving the man a defiant look, he stepped in under the spray.

It felt heavenly. Slade was actually giving him room, and they were mainly back-to-back, which made Robin relax just a little. There was a dispenser of soap, and, stepping just slightly out of the spray, Robin used it generously, lathering his stupid, soft hair, and his body alike. The water was just the right temperature, which surprised Robin. He had expected it to be either ice cold or scalding, but apparently, they agreed on something. Robin wasn't sure he liked that.

He tried to think of mundane things, but, as nothing around him actually was mundane anymore, his mind has a will of its own.

It's rather big, isn't it…? I wonder how big it get's hard? Damn, I can't let him fuck me with that thing, I'll need stitches! I probably have to rethink this… although… it must feel positively AMAZING to be filled like- oh god, stop! Baseball! I wonder if that still exists… Ha! I bet Bruce's baseball cards are absolutely worthless now… and he got sooo upset when I drew a moustache on Babe Ruth… damn, I miss his yelling…

"Almost done?"

Robin looked up, startled, as Slade interrupted his thoughts.

"Y-yeah."

"Then let's go."

Robin immediately wrapped the towel around his hips, but was soon met with a bit of a puzzle.

"What will I wear? I don't want to put on those sweaty things again." he said, gesturing towards the hamper.

"Here." Slade said, handing him a white shirt from a pile of carefully folded clothes. "This will have to do for now."

The man continued to dry off and dress, and Robin realized that he had gotten the man's clean shirt as Slade didn't have one. Robin hurriedly put it on and found that it almost reached his knees. He folded the arms up so he wouldn't look completely ridiculous, but, walking up to a mirror, he found that it hadn't helped. He sighed and pulled his fingers through his damp hair. He was tired, he was hungry and the thought of Bruce didn't exactly lift his spirits either.

"You don't have an extra pair of pants do you?" he asked Slade tiredly.

"No. Sorry. I didn't exactly plan to take you here, but, then again, I didn't expect to come home to that scene either."

"Forgiven me yet?" Robin tried to joke, but the weariness shone through.

"I'll tell you once I find out if the memory-chip is salvageable."

"Err… where was that, exactly?"

"The chest-area."

Robin thought back to that very part of the bot, which had mainly been a melted pile of metal and plastic.

"I think I'm still in trouble."

"You probably are."

"Can we eat before you go to find out?" Robin asked hopefully.

Slade gave him a look.

"Why do I have a terrible feeling about this?"

"You're just paranoid. Food. Let's go." Robin walked towards the door and looked back impatiently.

Slade, dressed in a fresh par of slacks and another wife beater, shook his head at his pet and gestured for him to go ahead.

Robin hurried to the elevator, and pushed the button. He had to find out if it would show up or not, but it did, and Robin added that to the very short list of advantages. He toyed with the thought of trying to give Slade the slip by closing the doors before the man could reach them, but, he figured, he would have almost no chance at getting away, and he didn't need more on his plate right now.

Slade looked slightly surprised when Robin waited for him, holding the doors open. As soon as the man stepped in, Robin pressed the correct button, making sure this also worked for him. It did. Another small burst of hope shot through Robin's chest, and he clung to it.

As they got out from the elevator, Robin turned right, towards the office, but Slade stopped him.

"We're going to my rooms. They won't be ready in there yet." he said.

"Oh, okay." was all Robin said and changed directions. Slade looked at him strangely again, before turning to the man at the desk in front of them.

"William, I am retiring for the evening. Report the clean-up and security-team's progress to me first thing in the morning, and make sure there is an evaluation from the tech-support about the bot on my desk as well."

"Yes Sir." the assistant nodded quickly, still not looking quite himself.

"You're not pissed at Will, are you?" Robin asked. "It's not his fault, you know."

"I'm very well aware of who to blame, don't worry." The man smirked, but the teen only shrugged in reply. "Who knew taking you to the gym would work so well?" the man added teasingly.

"Hmm? Worked well for what?" Robin asked, looking up. His eyes felt very heavy by now, and only his hunger, and the fact that he was standing up, was keeping him awake.

"Getting you to behave. You're quiet and obedient… rather the perfect pet."

"I'm just tired. I'll be back to my old self tomorrow." Robin mumbled.

"I thought it might be too good to last." Slade sighed. "Or…" he added with a smirk "I'll just have to find new ways to wear you out."

The teen just mumbled something in reply.

Walking into Slade's apartment, Robin's nose told him of wonderful things in the kitchen, and he headed that way, finding pots of hot food, ready to be served. He grabbed a plate and started filling it with rice and a rich stew which smelled heavenly.

"Now there's that naughty pet again. Not waiting for your Master, Robin?"

"Hungry." Robin snorted and grabbed a fork. He started shuffling in food in his mouth where he stood.

"At least sit down." Slade pointed to the small breakfast table. "One would think I have been starving you, for god's sake."

Robin, starting to feel a little bit more alert now, swallowed a big mouthful and gave Slade a calculating look.

"Why does your punishments suck?"

"Pardon? I thought you were in quite a lot of pain there for a while."

"Yeah, sure, but come on! If I had destroyed something that valuable back when I was your apprentice, at least one of my arms would be broken by now!"

"Are you complaining that you're not hurt enough?" Slade asked with a chuckle as he sat down opposite Robin with his own plate.

"No, I'm just wondering what has made you change…" Robin asked curiously.

"It's not me who has changed, but you, or rather, your status." Slade started to explain. "You see, Robin, back then, I hoped to make you my apprentice, a student and a tool at the same time. To do that, I had to make sure to change you, to break your connections to your old life… Now… well all those connections are irreparably broken already, and, as I don't need an apprentice anymore, your place is just as a pet. You don't beat up pets, Robin. A swat on the nose now and then, perhaps, but you don't break their legs for being bad."

Robin stared down on his plate, toying with the rest of his food. He was in two minds about Slade's view of him. It could be an asset to be just a pet; he would be seen as unthreatening, and, in time, he might be trusted to behave and slip under the radar, provided he could actually play the part well enough. That was the problem. Robin knew he had difficulties with acting meek for longer than five minutes in a row. He would blow his cover, even if he somehow could make it seem believable in the first place, which he doubted. All in all, though, being a pet was an option. On the other hand, Robin's ego wanted to be something more, someone who might be important enough to actually punish. A more dangerous path, perhaps, but much more appealing.

"So that's all I am, then?" he mumbled.

"Of course. Have I made you wear my symbol? Have I been giving you any lessons?"

"But being a pet is so… useless! There must be something I can do! I know I can put that bot together again, Slade, just let me try!"

"I doubt your usefulness, my boy. This is an alien world to you; you would have to catch up with fifty years of technological development-"

"I can do that, no problem." Robin growled. "Just try me. Try to keep me as a pet, though, and I'll give you hell." Robin's last threat was somewhat spoiled by a sudden yawn.

"You are too adorable." the man chuckled.

"Drop dead."

"Awwww…." Slade teased him, and Robin could feel the corners of his mouth twitch. Damn. Robin shoved some more food in his mouth to try and hide it.

They finished their meal in silence, and then Robin sneakily cut in front of Slade to the bathroom, locking the door in the man's face. Slade obviously didn't want to kick his own door in, so Robin got to use the facilities in peace, taking his time. He grinned at himself in the mirror when he noticed how used he had gotten to the Denta-Tabs already, they made him want to find out more about the other good things he was sure was out there now. He would probably have to wade through a swamp of pain and misery to find them, though… or ask Slade. Which was probably more or less the same thing.

The man gave him a glare as he exited the bathroom, and Robin smiled sweetly back. Slade's steps seemed just a tad hurried as he walked inside, and Robin chuckled at the notion of Slade needing to pee. He was heading for the comfy chair when he turned back and glanced at the door. Yes, he was in enough trouble, but if he was to trust Slade, which he wasn't, he didn't need to fear any real punishment, so why not? Besides, it would be locked.

To Robin's enormous surprise, it wasn't.

The teen, still clad in Slade's shirt, and only the shirt, padded down the hall to the reception. William, in the same kind of white shirt as the day before, looked up and startled when he saw Robin without Slade.

"Go back to the room, Robin!" The man almost barked, making the teen startle. William looked like a very gentle person, but maybe looks were deceiving.

"I'm just taking a stroll. Be back soon." Robin waved, and headed for the elevators. There was a buzzing sound and an alarm beeped, before Robin could even get close to the doors.

"All the doors on this floor are now locked, and only I or Slade can open them." William informed him calmly. "Go back."

"Can't. Door's locked." Robin grinned, and instead went to sit on William's desk. "I was just going to take a tour."

"Sure you were." the man muttered, and then his eyes went wide and he shot up from the chair he was sitting in. "Where's Slade?! What have you done with him?"

"Done?" Robin asked incredulously. "Wow, thanks for the confidence, but he's just in the bathroom."

At that moment, the door down the hall opened.

"Robin. Come back here." The voice had a slightly tired 'or else' kind of tone, and the teen thought it was for the best to oblige.

"Coming!" he called out. "Just saying goodnight to William!"

"He's not, Sir, I had to put the place in lock-down!" the assistant called back frantically.

"Oh, you're so whipped…" Robin muttered as he walked back to Slade.

The man, wearing only boxers with his wife-beater now, was glaring at him again. Robin, however, was becoming quite used to that by now and glared back.

"I wasn't going to run away dressed in just your shirt." he snorted.

He didn't even see the back of Slade's hand until it connected with his cheek, snapping his head to the side and making him fall to the ground from the force of the impact. Robin's head was ringing as he struggled into a sitting position.

"What…?" he asked, and looked rather dazed as he stared up at Slade.

"That, my pet, was a swat on the nose." the man said and turned away, leaving Robin behind as he walked to the bedroom.

A/N: Slade can joke around, but I think Robin just tested him a bit too much… poor bird… Slade's not a nice person no matter how cuddly (?!) he appears, I guess…

Well I hoped you liked this extra b-day posting, next chapter will be out next Friday…

Oh, and different spellings in the UK and the US drives me crazy… take mold/mould for example… I have the US spelling-thingy activated, but it still likes mould better… it says "mold" is a cast/shape… Well The Darkest Half pointed it out, and I looked it up on Wikipedia as well… but it keeps irritating me! ;)