DING-DONG!

Bruce Wane looked up from his newspaper. "Who could that be?" he murmured to himself.

Bruce got up and walked through the house toward the door, arriving at the same time as Alfred.

"Oh! Hello Alfred, I thought you had the night off."

"I do, Master Bruce, but I decided to stay here because of the storm."

"Is it really that bad?" Bruce asked as thunder shook the house. "Hm . . . maybe it is."

DING-DONG!

"Oh, I almost forgot," Alfred said turning to the door.

The elderly butler opened the door, revealing a dark figure. The two men stared at the figure. Lightning flashed!

"Dick," Bruce and Alfred cried out in unison.

"Come in!" Bruce exclaimed. "Why didn't you come right in? You don't have to ring the bell."

Dick entered, hair drooping from the water and clothes completely drenched. Staring at Bruce he replied, "I would have, but the door was locked."

"Did you lose your key?" Bruce asked.

"No. My key doesn't work any more."

"Master Bruce, did you rekey the house two years ago?" Alfred queried, as he shut the door.

"You're right, Alfred. I had completely forgotten about it. Didn't we send him a key?"

"I believe, Master Bruce, that you told Master Dick to come pick it up, because you didn't want to mail it."

"Oh! So it's my fault, I don't have a key? That makes me feel much better." Dick muttered.

Bruce smiled. "It really doesn't matter. I'll give you a key when you leave." He paused for a minute, "Where is your costume, and where did you get those clothes? They look a little small."

"I changed at the half way point, you know the one you set up so that I could change before coming home, and my clothes are too small because I haven't worn normal ones since the last time I visited you."

"Ah, the point . . . I forgot about that. I don't know if you realized this, but you could have not changed and come up from the Bat-cave."

Dick shook his head, exasperated at himself for not thinking of it.

Bruce realized that Dick's clothes were creating a puddle on the floor. "You probably want to change, don't you? You've grown so much since the last time you were here that none of your clothes will fit. Mine are still going to be too big for you, but they'll have to do."

Bruce escorted Dick to the spare room. Dick's eyes widened. Did Bruce get rid of his room?

"After you had been gone for about a year without us hearing from you, we decided that you probably weren't coming back." Bruce said still smiling.

"But . . . huh? . . . Whe . . . whe . . . where's my stuff?" Dick stammered.

Bruce cackled, "You didn't think I was serious, did you? Your stuff is in your old room where you left it, clothes on the floor, bed unmade, shorts on the tv . . . "

Dick was dumbfounded. How could Bruce do that to him? Dick called occasionally, he made sure Bruce knew he was all right. In fact, Dick had called him . . . when was that . . . it was in December. "Bruce, I called you in December, what do you mean you didn't hear from me for a year?"

"That's true, you did call in December, and it's February, so it wasn't a year ago."

"See!" Dick interrupted.

"It was more than a year."

"WHAT!"

"Dick, it wasn't two months ago you called me, it was fourteen."

Dick's face went blank, "Has that much time really passed?"

Changing the subject and offering an explanation of why they were at the spare bedroom, Bruce said, "We're remodeling my room so I've been staying in here." He opened a door, revealing a crammed closet. "Pick what you want, all of it will be baggy but it will have to do."

"If you're just remodeling your room, why do you have all of your clothes in here?" Robin asked.

"I'm remodeling the bathroom and closet. They're quite small."

"With all those clothes it'd be a miracle if a store house held them!"

"Very funny Dick. Some of these clothes are really old."

"Whoa! Hold it, Bruce, your bathroom is HUGE! Why in the world would you need it to be bigger?" Robin asked in bewilderment.

"Choose some clothes and meet me in the kitchen. Alfred should have dinner pretty soon."

Bruce left, leaving Dick to change. He picked through the clothes, trying to find anything but a custom-made suit.

"Crud! Doesn't Wayne ever wear normal clothes?" Boy Wonder thought.

Dick pulled of his clothes, exchanging his too small clothes for too large one. He looked in a full length mirror. The teen looked like a little boy playing dress up in his dad's closet. The shirt dwarfed him, the sleeves hanging down to his finger tips. Dick rolled up the sleeves, making his now showing wrists look like twigs. Robin scanned his image in the mirror again, finding that the pants went down over his feet. He bent over, rolled them up, and stood up again. When he stood up, the pants fell. Dick braved the closet again, emerging a few years later with a belt to hold up his pants.

"Bruce," Dick called out, descending down the stairs, "have you ever thought that you're slightly too big?" Dick entered the kitchen, holding his arms out to show how big the clothes were.

"Have you ever thought that you're slightly too small?" Bruce teased. "You look like a clown."

Dick glared.

"Have some dinner." Bruce said, pointing to a plate piled with food, which was resting on the counter that Bruce was sitting on.

"Where's Alfred?"

"There was a break in the storm, so he went to get you some clothes that fit." the handsome man responded. "By the way, Dick, I've been meaning to ask you: What did you come home for? After this morning I never thought you'd show up."

"You said you wanted to talk to me. I figured it must be quite important for you to call me at four a.m., so I came as soon as I could." Dick knew this last part was a lie, but he didn't want to admit how worried he was. Dick sat up to the counter on a barstool and began eating.

"Well it isn't that important. I'm sorry if I worried you."

Robin was confused, if it wasn't that important why did he call? "I'm here now. What was it that you wanted to say to me?"

Bruce tried to tell Robin. Even though he opened his mouth, Bruce could not get the words out. He hadn't expected Robin to come, leaving him unrepaired to break the news.

The eyes of Bruce wandered around the room, looking for something to say. Resting his eyes on Dick's plate, he finally spoke, "I had the most delicious steak dinner last night."

Dick looked up at him appalled, "Is that all? You called me at four in the morning, had me come all the way out here, just to tell me you had a good meal!"

Bruce chuckled, "No . . . There is something else. I don't know how to say . . . I'm . . ." Bruce couldn't say it. He sat silently for a long time, sobered up, and began, "Do you remember Barbara Gordon?"

Dick wondered if something had happened to her, his stomach began twisting with worry. "Batgirl? Of course I remember her. How is she?" He inquired, hoping for the best.

"Oh she's fine. Better than fine actually," he took another pause, "Dick, something happened. I wanted to tell you in person, before the press found out."

Dick quit eating and stared at Bruce. Was Wayne pulling another prank on him?

Bruce, seeing worry on his young companion's face, went on, "It's nothing bad–in my opinion." It's now or never Bruce thought, "Barbara and I are getting married."

Dick dropped his fork, diverting his full attention to staring at Bruce. Was this another joke? Of course it was, this man was widely known for his bachelorhood. Dick started laughing, "All right Bruce! Come on and stop kidding around. I can't believe you thought that I'd buy that. What's really going on?"

Bruce looked the young man in the eye, "I'm not joking Dick, I'm getting married."

"What?" Robin said still in disbelief. "To whom? You aren't really marrying the commissioner's daughter, are you?"