Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Batman. They are owned by 20th Century Fox.

Alfred silently waltzed into the room, his gloved hands carrying a pan of freshly made chocolate chip cookies. "Ma'am?" he said leaning slightly at the waist beside Barbara as she text messaged on her cell phone.

"Oh, thank you," she smiled and took a couple with a napkin. Alfred then walked over to Bruce whom sat in the great chair nearby reading a newspaper. It had been nearly a year since Dick had left, but it had been a quiet, still, dreadful year without the Boy Wonder. Though the Joker was gone Gotham was no less a hazard to live in. There seemed to be something amiss having not heard his cackle that lingered in their minds but Bruce put it out by looking over at the redhead whom was typing away with fury on the keypad.

"How can you do that and drive at the same time?" he asked lowering his newspaper just enough to look over the lip.

"I got more than just good looks," she replied looking back at him with a cock eyebrow whilst at the same time she typed, "I also got skillz hahahaha," on her cellphone.

"That would be a great feat if you had better spelling. Maybe you should pay more attention in English," Bruce chuckled lightly.

"Oh I do," Barbara replied nibbling on a still hot cookie, "I just find it boring hearing about Macbeth. I'm a computer whiz not a tea toddler."

Hearing that Alfred walked by, "Madam, tea toddler or not, it is considered a sophistication to have perfect grammar and diction rather than trying to be "cool." He said that leaving the room, but before he did his looked over his shoulder at Barbara whose cheeks were bulging from the soft dough and moist chips, closed his eyes and extended his tongue piercing his lips to the outside.

The reason for her to be here was for a special occasion. Dick was expected to arrive soon and Barbara, after receiving a letter from him at his "vacation spot" she was counting down the days to his comeback. Though, secretly she wished to have him in his Robin outfit and they both had taken out a nest of gangsters as a sort of welcome back party, however, looking at Bruce, the Big Guy, there was the lingering doubt that Dick would ever be allowed to go out into action again. Her green eyes kept glancing at the watch of her phone, there was no expect time for his return, just a day, and it was approaching seven at night. Barbara had to return to her dorms soon to cram for a midterm, however, she kept pushing back the time just enough in the hopes that Robin would return.

Alfred stepped into the room, "Sir, Mister Grayson has returned." Stepping aside in came Robin, slightly taller but still with the same hair do, the sharp eye seemingly always in a scowl, the lifted up chin.

"You're back!" she smiled, her face beaming with joy as she embraced him tightly. "It's good to see you again. How was your…ahem…vacation," she asked releasing her hold slowly.

"It was alright," Dick half smiled and dropped his backpack to his side, "The place was nice and all, but boy as those preppy boys smug."

"Tell me all about it," Barbara said wanting to delay as much as possible her return back to the city.

"There will be a time for that later, Barbara," Bruce said trying to put up a smile of his own, "You have classes to worry about."

Frowning at both him and her reason why for leaving Barbara looked back at Robin, "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Sure thing," he smiled and nodded.

Reluctantly Barbara departed taking her cookies with her leaving the two, the father and son alone in that large room. Grayson slowly walked over to the side of Bruce's chair, he wanted to ask, "When can I go back out," but it was too soon, too much expectation that he knew would be impossible just now thus he decided to bleed it out a little.

"How was your vacation?" Bruce asked, his voice suddenly dropped to match his alter ego.

"It was alright, if you don't mind the mosquitos," Dick held up his half smile and shrugged his shoulders, "And when I mean mosquitos I mean preppies."

"Those "preppies" are members of my alma-Mata," Bruce said as a matter of factly.

"Well, you have to admit, they're pretty stuck up," Dick smiled fully.

There was a moment of silence between them before Bruce lowered his head slightly and smiled a little, but all of this was putting off what was important. "You know the reason why I had you leave, right?" Bruce said.

"Yeah."

"Gotham has not missed the Joker. Well, except Harley but she's in Arkham for now. Because of this I allowed you to come back sooner, but the since you're here we might as well not beat around the bush. "Why should I let you go out again?" Bruce asked calmly. He meant it to hear Dick speak. Knowing that the boy had will and spunk there was the compromise that having killed the Joker, even accidently, it may have tarnished his ability to function in a combat zone. Sitting in his chair in front of the roaring fire, watching the yellow flames lick the stone chimney as the fuel logs snapped and sparked off to his right, just at the edge of the fire in his eye Dick stood still looking back at him.

"I know what I did, but having to stay here or staying away from Barb and Gotham will not change anything." Dick paused for a moment, the Big Guy was unmoved by this first strike, his eyes set, face blank, no smile, seemingly a statue illuminated by the glow of the fire. "When you lost your parents did you just sit and cry? I know I did, at least for a while then I felt the need for revenge."

"Dick, you already avenged the death of your parents…"

"I know, and so did you," the boy interrupted slamming his fist into an open palm, "You avenged your parents and the parents of so many others. How come you get to do all the fun and I can't, huh? You can stop and stay the "billionaire" that everyone sees at fund raisers and parties, but you won't. It's engrained in you. The need to protect the helpless. It's the same with me. If you are going to hold it over my head because of an accident then I'll go out on my own then."

Bruce still seemed unmoved. The stonewall stood against the crashing waves he sat and pondered as Dick felt the cold chill of defeat crawl up his spine. He walked out of the room leaving Bruce to decide. Retiring to his room Dick threw himself onto his bed, his head sank into a pillow, "God what a day."

Through his year away he had limited contact with Barbara. Bruce wanted to minimalize any risk of exposure, to minimalize a link that Robin was Dick Grayson by having him send letters or text messages that could be uncovered about his "accident" thus when they did send letters it was carefully worded with approvals going through Bruce. This middle man was troublesome but during the whole time no one could connect the dots.

His cellphone vibrated on the night stand next to him. Looking at the screen, "Barb?" he thought, "At this hour?"

"What did he say?" she asked in the message.

"Nothing yet."

"Well, hopefully he'll let the bats out of his belfry. Let me know when he does, okay?"

"Sure thing," Dick tapped on his key pad.

"Well, I'm off to bed. Good luck."

"Thanks" he replied then his head collapsed into his pillow and the clock somewhere ticked to midnight.