Batman

"My Three Sons: Batman Style"

Summary: Bruce tackles raising three sons: Dick, Jason, and Tim.

Author's Note(s): For the purpose of this story: 1) Jason Todd did not die. He, like his older brother Dick, outgrew the Robin persona and created his own: Talon. His costume is black, except for three red slashes across his chest. 2) Dick is eighteen, Jason is fifteen, and Tim is twelve. 3) Barbara didn't become Oracle, was never shot, and chose to make herself into a new crime fighter called Kestrel. 4) Cassie Cain lives with Babs and Commisioner Gordon rather than Bruce. She's Batgirl. 5) The two girls are the same age as Dick and Tim.

Warning: This story will contain the corporal punishment of teenagers—even an eighteen year old—and adolescents. If this bothers you, DO NOT READ OR REVIEW THIS STORY. YOU HAVE BEEN PROPERLY WARNED!!!

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just wrote this story for the fun of it.

Chapter 9: Too Old (III)

Tim bit his lip, staring up as his father. "Uh, well…"

Bruce raised an eyebrow at his youngest. "Well, son?" he asked, fists on his hips.

"I just wanted to tell you goodnight," Tim said, quickly. "So…Goodnight!" He turned and started for his bedroom.

"Hold it," Bruce said, grabbing a hold of the seat of his pajamas. "Not so fast, young man."

He knelt down on one knee so that he and the boy would be more or less on the same level. "Tim?" he asked, knowingly. "What's wrong?"

Tim looked around, as if making sure the coast was clear.

Bruce grinned. "C'mere," he said, standing up and hefting the boy over his shoulder. "We'll go to my room and talk."

"C'mon, Dad," Tim protested, "put me down."

"Nope," Bruce told him, heading into his room.

"I mean it, Dad," Tim said, trying to sound intimidating, "put…me…down!"

Bruce smirked. "If you say so," he said, and promptly tossed the twelve year old onto his bed.

"Dad," Tim groaned, as he bounced once and then landed on his back, "aren't I too old for this?"

Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes. "What is it with you boys tonight?" he asked, sitting down on the bed. "Suddenly you all three think your so old for some reason! Trust me, your not too old until…"

"We're your age?" Tim asked, smirking.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "No," he said, feigning a punch to the boy's gut. "When your Alfred's age…maybe, and I mean maybe, you'll be too old but definitely not before."

Tim grinned. "I'm gonna tell him you said that," he said, "and then you'll be in trouble."

"Little brat," Bruce growled, pulling him toward him by the leg, "are you trying to get yourself a spanking?" He started tickling the boy mercilessly.

Tim wriggled and squirmed, laughing. "Dad, stop!" he squealed. "I'm gonna wet myself!"

"Well," Bruce said, smirking, "seeing as how your on my bed at the moment I certainly don't want that to happen so…I guess I'll go easy on you. This time."

Tim smiled. "Your crazy," he told him, "but I still like you."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Only like?" he asked him, curiously.

Tim blushed. "Okay," he admitted, "maybe more than like."

"Uh huh," Bruce said, smiling. "That's good, because I more than like you, too."

He reached out and ruffled the twelve year olds hair, causing him to groan. "Ah, Dad," he moaned, "not the hair!"

Bruce just chuckled. "All right, son," he said, turning serious, "you don't usually stay up to tell me goodnight unless you want to talk so…spill. What's up?"

Tim sighed. "Well," he said, hesitantly, "there's this jerk at school and…"

"He's been bothering you," Bruce guessed, knowingly. He'd dealt with a few school yard bullies himself when he'd been Tim's age.

"Well, not jut me," Tim said, "he picks on everybody—well, except Cassie."

Bruce grinned. "He's smart," he said. "I wouldn't pick on Cassie, either."

"Yeah, me either," Tim agreed, "but that's kinda my problem. Everybody knows that Cassie's dad was an assassin and that she can kick some serious butt, so she can stand up to him, but me…"

"But you, what?" Bruce asked him.

"I can't stand up to him, Dad," Tim said, "otherwise people might put two and two together."

"Why do you say that?" Bruce asked.

"Well," Tim said, "wouldn't it look strange if I suddenly kicked the guys butt?"

"Why should it?" Bruce asked, smirking. "If anyone asks, just tell them your father has been teaching you karate."

"You mean," Tim asked, hopefully, "you wouldn't be mad at me if I got into a fight?"

So that's it! Bruce realized. "I don't want you to start anything, son," he told him, gently, "but if this boy starts hassling you I want you to defend yourself. Okay?"

Tim grinned. "Thanks, Dad," he said, smiling—which promptly turned into a huge yawn.

Bruce grinned. "I think its time someone was in bed," he said, getting up.

"Okay," Tim said, and started to get up.

"Why don't you just stay in here tonight, son?" Bruce suggested, heading into the bathroom to pull on his own night wear.

"Uh," Tim said, blushing, "I'm kinda old to be sleeping…"

Bruce came back out dressed only in his boxers—his usual night attire—and gave the boy a pointed look.

Tim smiled. "All right," he said, "but just for tonight." He crawled over and climbed under the covers.

Bruce chuckled, going around to the other side of the bed. "Don't worry, son," he told Tim as he pulled the covers over both of them, "I won't tell if you don't."

"Okay," Tim said, sleepily. "Night, Dad." He closed his eyes and was soon breathing evenly.

Bruce chuckled. Yeah, WAY too old!

Not!

"Sweet dreams, kiddo," he said, placing a fatherly kiss onto the top of his head.

With that, he turned out the light and rolled over. He too was soon fast asleep.

TBC…