Robin was allowed to patrol the night following the Justice League meeting, and his presence proved highly useful when they interrupted the robbery of an assayer's office. The men inside were more formidable fighters than Batman had anticipated, and three of them managed to hold him up long enough for the fourth to get to the back door with a cart containing eight gold bars. Fortunately that was where he had stationed his partner, thinking to keep him out of the main fray. The acrobat was perched on a small overhang above the exit, and dropped easily onto the thief as he stopped to wrestle with his ill-gotten prize. Knocking the man out with a new technique he'd learned the week before, he was just securing the last zip tie when his mentor appeared, glanced about, and gave him a short nod of approval.
"He couldn't get the cart through the door," the boy grinned. "It's too wide for the frame."
"Did you use the nerve pinch I showed you?"
"Yup. He went straight down."
Bending to check the criminal, he verified what the boy had said. "Good," he said, straightening. His voice was gruff, but he was swelling with pride. His first real takedown on his own, he mused. On every patrol before now they had fought back-to-back, or at least in places where he could see the child at all times. Tonight, though, they'd split up, and he'd handled the situation expertly when given the opportunity. "We'll stay until the police arrive, then return to the cave," he announced. "It's getting late."
"The police?" He couldn't manage to mask his excitement entirely; so far they'd always left before the authorities got to the crime scene. He'd asked why one night, and had been told that there was no reason to let the entire world know about Robin until it was absolutely necessary. Secretly, though, he suspected that Batman was waiting until he reached a particular level of proficiency, and the fact that they were staying to turn in someone he'd nabbed suggested to him that he was correct.
There was a cold wind blowing at ground level that had been blocked by the building when he'd been crouched up above, and he shivered suddenly in it. Seeing the involuntary motion, Batman gestured him over, holding his cape open for him to huddle beneath. He pressed himself against the man's side, absorbing heat as the loose fabric was wrapped around his shoulders. "Thanks," he yawned, relaxing as he warmed. He was nearly asleep, his head tucked neatly beneath his mentor's elbow, when the police arrived.
"Commissioner," he heard rumble overhead. He tried to turn to see the person Batman was speaking to, but the arm across his back held him in place. Getting the sense that he was being restrained for a reason, he didn't struggle, instead going still and listening to the conversation. "A heist at this level doesn't seem like the kind of thing that would attract you."
"Normally it wouldn't," a new voice that Robin vaguely recognized from television answered. "I happened to be out on a ride along tonight when the call came in. Pure coincidence. So," he went on, "another four men on their way to jail courtesy of Batman."
"No. Three."
"…I'm sorry?"
"Only the three inside are mine. The one out here, who was about to escape with the gold, is courtesy of my partner."
"…Your what?"
"My partner," he repeated. "Robin. Meet Commissioner Gordon."
The pressure over his shoulders lifted, and the acrobat turned. "Hello," he greeted gaily. "I'm Robin. It's nice to meet you, Commissioner Gordon
"I…hello," the clearly shocked public servant replied. "…Batman, surely this is a joke? I mean, I'd heard rumors, but really…" His wide eyes never left the small masked face peeking up at him from the edges of the cape. "…This is extreme, even for you."
"Extreme?" was breathed in a borderline lethal tone.
"Well…he's a child. How old are you, Robin, eight?"
"Nine," the boy answered promptly.
"Nine," Gordon shook his head. "Nine, Batman."
"I'm aware of his age."
"Then how can you allow-"
"He captured a man who might have gotten away with three million dollars worth of bullion tonight. He did so completely unassisted, utilizing his training, the terrain, and the element of surprise. If he can do that at nine, Commissioner, what will he be capable of at nineteen? At twenty-nine? I think it would be in your interest to make sure that such a person is on your side."
"…The heir apparent, then?" he asked unhappily, forced to acknowledge the truth of the other man's words.
"As you see."
"It's madness," he muttered. The years had taught him that it wasn't worth trying to argue with him, though, so he didn't bother. "All right…Robin…ah…good job."
"Thanks!" came back, along with a happy smile. Looking closely in the dark, the Commissioner would have sworn the boy was rising up and down on his toes, almost hopping in place, as if he couldn't stand still from the excitement. He hadn't believed the scuttlebutt about an eye-poppingly dressed youth following the somber Batman about until he'd just seen it, and even still he questioned his vision. How does he manage stakeouts? he found himself wondering as the duo turned and began to walk away without another word. And where did he even get a child? What parent would hand their baby over to such a figure? Unless…well, I suppose it isn't impossible that he has biological offspring. Still, though, it's insane. Sooner or later that boy's going to get hurt, or worse, and my guess is that when it happens we're going to have corpses instead of criminals to process. He had him wrapped up in his cape to keep him out of the wind, for Christ's sake. We've found him with hypothermia victims he wasn't that generous with. No…that little one is more son than partner. Apparently vigilantism is now a family business, at least in Gotham. Groaning at the thought, he called over the nearest patrolman and requested a lift back to headquarters. I'll finish the ride along tomorrow, he excused himself. Right now, I need a stiff drink.
Robin held his question until they were ensconced in the Batmobile and on their way home. "…Did you mean what you said?" he queried.
"Mm?"
"About when I'm older. Do you think…I mean, you sounded like you think I'll be really good then, when I'm grown up. Did you mean that?"
"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't believe it. Assuming you still want to do this when you get to those ages, of course. You may not."
"Of course I will!" he exclaimed a little indignantly.
"Good." Because you're going to be fantastic.
Buzzing as he was over being introduced to the Commissioner, it was difficult to convince him to go to bed once they were home. First, of course, Alfred had to be told, and then the request to go out and share the news with Gobblehead had to be turned down. Finally Bruce just picked him up bodily, threw him over his shoulder, and marched up the stairs, grinning at the delighted giggles the action caused. "Go to sleep, kiddo," he ordered as he dropped him onto the bed and headed for the door.
"Bruce?"
"Hmm?"
"…Why'd you really wait until tonight to let the police know about Robin?" Even though he thought he already knew the answer, he wanted to hear it from the man himself.
"I already told you, chum, it was safer to wait."
"You said there was no reason to tell until it was 'absolutely necessary,'" Dick quoted, sitting up and giving him a serious look. "But…it wasn't necessary tonight. So how come you didn't keep waiting?"
"Would you have preferred that I waited?" he asked, stepping back into the room and sitting on the edge of the mattress.
"No," the boy shook his head. "It's just…well, I know the JLA already knew about me before last night, or at least Superman and Flash did. And a few weeks ago you told Leslie, and now you've told the Commissioner. They're all our allies, though, right?"
"Yes."
"So shouldn't you have told them all at once, more or less?"
Bruce sighed. Damn it, why does it seem like you just see through everything I try to hide from you? How do you read me like that? I'm lucky you haven't managed to guess what I got you for Christmas just by looking at me. "Dick…look, I've had you read a fair number of criminal profiles, right?"
"Yeah. The Joker, and Two-Face, and lots of others," he nodded.
"So you know the kind of things they've done."
"Uh-huh. They're not very nice."
"No. They aren't. Other than that, can you think of anything else that links together all of the files I've given you to study?"
He traced the stitching of his quilt as he concentrated, a bevy of possibilities flying through his mind and being just as quickly discarded. "…You've caught all of them at least once. They've all gone to jail because of Batman."
"Right. So," he shifted, a bit uncomfortably. I don't want what I'm about to say to scare him, but he did ask. And he does need to know, so that he can be on his guard. "What do you think their first thought will be when they find out that Batman has a partner? A young partner, at that?"
"…Easy target," he realized. He met Bruce's eyes. "They'll think I'm an easy target, a good way to get to you. They could use me as bait to lure you into a trap."
"Or worse," the billionaire explained. "Several of them wouldn't hesitate to just kill you, specifically because they would want to see what happened to Batman in that instance. I've never worked with anyone before, and most of them know that. The fact that you're a child will automatically intimate certain things, certain assumptions, and they will exploit those as much as they can." He took a deep breath. "I don't want Robin's existence to become common knowledge to people like them until it has to, because I want to make sure that you are as ready as you possibly can be to face them when they do go after you. There's been talk on the streets, though, and unfortunately rumors about Batman tend to spread fast in the underworld. The word is getting out, and before long it's bound to reach one or more of the criminals you've studied. That can't be avoided."
"But that doesn't explain why you told the Commissioner about Robin," the child pointed out.
"I had two reasons for that. The first goes back to what I was just saying; you're becoming a known figure, slowly but surely, and there's nothing that can be done to stop it from happening. Telling the police about Robin's existence, and his ties to Batman, may ensure that they offer you the help you need in a bad situation, especially if I'm not able to intercede for some reason. If Gotham's criminals are familiar with you, we need to make sure that Gotham's police are as well."
"…That makes sense."
"Good. The second reason is a bit more personal. I know you've been wondering why we always leave before the police arrive. Batman does that a lot of the time anyway, you should know; it hasn't just been since he's had Robin at his side. I also know that you've been wanting to meet the Commissioner since I first mentioned him and explained the importance of his role to our night work; remember, his willingness to mostly leave us to our operations is part of the reason we're able to function at the level we do. Commissioners in other cities have proven far less welcoming to people like us in the past, sometimes turning into outright enemies. Batman and Robin are lucky that Jim Gordon is Gotham's Commissioner, and that he has been as amenable as he is to our existence. Having his support, or at least not having him working against us, makes our jobs much, much easier."
"You told me that already," he nodded.
"And you remembered," Bruce smiled. Of course you remembered. "Anyway, I knew you really wanted to meet him as Robin. I was going to wait a little longer, but…you did very well tonight. I guess even Batman thought you deserved a little reward for that."
"Thanks," Dick glowed. "But why'd you keep me from turning around and saying hi at first, then?"
"Oh, that." He winked. "Dramatic effect."
"You like keeping him on his toes? Why?"
"You know why."
"…Because it's fun?" he grinned.
"Exactly." Getting up slowly, he returned to the door. "Now, go to sleep. Maybe tomorrow we can go ice skating."
"Yeah!" The activity had quickly become one of his favorites, and Bruce couldn't object to seeing him have so much fun when he was doing something so close to training. "I'll go right to sleep, I promise!"
"Good." The billionaire watched as he snuggled down into the blankets and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. "Sleep tight, kiddo."
"Night, Bruce."
Walking down the hall to his own room, he pondered the events of the evening. I miscalculated the strength of the thieves, and it could have turned out badly as a result. He turned it around, though, and took out the one that was getting away while I was still occupied inside. What was said to the Commissioner tonight was no exaggeration; he's only going to become more skilled, and more impressive, as time goes by. The secret is making sure he gets the time he needs to develop before the wrong person gets their hands on him.
He grimaced at that, suddenly glad that Flash was coming along on the bust the next weekend. A second pair of experienced eyes won't hurt anything, especially on Robin's first big case. Climbing into bed, he lay back and tried to banish the worry that had been clawing in the back of his head since he'd first proposed the upcoming mission. He latched onto the sight that had greeted him as he'd stepped out of the assayer's a couple hours before; Robin, bent determinedly over an unconscious and bound figure that was easily three times his weight, concentrating on his task but not to the extent that he didn't know Batman was approaching. He's ready, he assured himself. Between tonight and the little stunt he pulled with Kid Flash, he's shown he can adapt and do what needs to be done. And we still have another week to practice. I think we'll focus on evasion, just in case… Finally, with a set plan and the fresh memory of his son's first real criminal apprehension to comfort him, he managed to fall asleep, a proud little smile gracing his lips.
