I decided not to post the b-day drabbles in a special collection after all, because of reasons. ;)

B-DAY REQUESTS HAVE BEEN CLOSED FOR NOW! see why at the bottom.

A/N Happy Birthday Smile-Evily (9th of January)!

Today's story is: Freestanding and Light

IMPORTANT MESSAGE TO Armenian Beauty Hayeren: Your private message function is disabled, and I need to contact you. You will get your wish, but I have a follow-up question. Get back to me.

Every Dog Has His Day

Slade was moving through the shadows of the city, noiselessly and invisibly. He was not on a mission, really, he was just taking the city in, listening to the gossip of the underworld, learning its secrets. It was almost meditative, in a way, but that feeling was broken by loud shouts and laughter along with the shrill sound of metal against tarmac over in the next alley.

You didn't get to live long by being too curious, but, for once, Slade decided to investigate.

It was a gang up to no good, he had already guessed as much, and he knew these particular scumbags by the red bandanas around their right arms. They were not mugging a little old lady, however, but seemed highly amused by kicking a restaurant-sized food-can around. This was a mystery to the mercenary until he heard a faint whimper coming from the can itself.

"Having fun, boys?" the man actually blinked in surprise at his own actions. Why hadn't he just left? For all he knew there could be a rat in the head-sized can, and whatever it was, it wasn't really his business.

Funnily enough, that was exactly what the leader of the gang told him. Slade shrugged. He might not want to be known as the defender of rats, but no one should ever try to tell him what to do…

The fight was short and ridiculous. They were just overgrown kids after all, and ran at the first sign of getting their ass kicked. Still, it was all right as a mild warm-up session.

As the alley emptied, another whimper was heard from the can.

"Might as well look…" Slade snorted and opened the jagged lid, which had been pushed down over the opening. Looking back at him was a small, brown puppy. "Not a rat, then… well… get out. Try not to trust nasty people again like an idiot," the man snorted and turned the can over just enough so that the dog slid out of it.

"Aff!"

"You're welcome," the man smirked and turned around. After a few steps, however, he noticed that the yapping sound was following him. He glanced backwards and, yes, the puppy was limping behind him, looking very determined.

"What did I tell you about being an idiot?" Slade said.

The dog cocked its head to the side and took a few more steps, its thin tail wagging a little.

"Yeah, you'll make it just fine… you'll probably get eaten by an alley-cat within the next hour…" Slade snorted and continued on. The dog did as well. After half a block, however, it started whimpering more, and its limp made it fall behind. Slade found himself stopping, drawing a large breath through his nose and closing his eye. He couldn't possibly even consider what he was considering, could he? He was, he discovered a bit later as he picked the pup up. It was so small it easily fit in one of his hands, and it was shivering.

"Guess you're not going to be cat-food after all…" the man muttered and headed for home.

It was a brown puppy. Just… brown. He had bathed it, since it smelled like the inside of the can, and checked it for injuries. Those weren't too bad, he thought; the dog had been very lucky. It seemed to be a Dachshund, or at least it had a lot of Weiner-dog in it. The smooth coat shone after the bath, and the big, brown eyes were looking at him in a somewhat determined way. Its short legs were firmly planted on the floor and the tail was wagging again, as if it was having a great time.

"Aff!"

"Yes, I'm sure," Slade answered vaguely, and went to the small kitchenette, trying to find something that would be safe for the dog to eat. He had already put down a large bowl of water, which had been appreciated.

"Looks like I'm going shopping…" the man muttered and unbuckled his armor. It wouldn't do to saunter into the closest 7-Eleven in his uniform, after all.

"Aff-aff!"

"No, you're staying here," Slade told the puppy firmly, and threw a blanket on the floor. "There. Sleep on that. And STAY!"

He left a very unhappy puppy behind, and found himself hurrying his steps.

"AFF! AFF! AFF!"

"Yes, I'm home. Would you mind being quiet, or are you trying to get the attention of everyone around? What if the Titans heard you, huh?" Slade scoffed, a plastic bag in his hand. "Titans BAD, that the first thing I'm going to teach yo- WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY BLUEPRINTS?"

The puppy tilted his head again and gave him a look as if to say 'how should I know?' as he was standing right in the middle of a large, pile of shredded paper.

"Come here," Slade ordered and squatted down. The dog looked very interested, but also very confused. "Here, dog!" Slade tried again. "What? You only respond to your name or something? I don't know what that is, you stupid mutt… Fine… I'll call you… Max. That should give you something to live up to… so… here, Max!"

Amazingly enough, this time, the dog bounded over happily.

"Great." Slade wanted to roll his eyes, but he only had one, after all. "So… this-" the man said and picked up a stray piece of chewed blue-print- "is BAD. Very BAD. I don't care if I left it on the floor, do NOT do it ag-"

The dog had just grabbed the end of the piece of paper and was tugging at it happily, his tail wagging his whole body.

"You are stubborn, huh? And brave despite being much too small to be picking a fight with someone my size… hmmm… you remind me of someone…" Slade found himself with a smirk on his face, practically a grin, instead of a frown, and gave up the scolding. The pup was just a baby, after all… he would learn.

"Aff!"

"And dogs should go 'woof', you know that right?"

"Aff!"

"Just checking."

That night he took the blanket he had put on the floor before into his rather sparse bedroom and put it in a corner. He put the puppy on the blanket and got into his own bed. Soon all hell broke loose.

"AAAAAOOOUUUUUUUUUUU!"

"No! Bad Max! Quiet! Just go to sleep!" Slade growled. A scratching noise made him look down to where the puppy desperately tried to climb up on the bed.

"AAAooooouuuoouuu!"

"No, no dogs in the bed, you have your blanket," Slade said firmly. He had never owned a dog, but, thinking back, he realized that he had always wanted one as a child. He had even read dog-books in the hope that his mother would get the hint, but no. He remembered about being firm, however, and that was an idea he didn't have a problem with.

After one hour of being firm with the puppy it finally went to sleep. Curled up on Slade's stomach.

There were many aspects of having a dog that didn't really fit in to the man's life-style. Like walkies. Mercenaries didn't take walkies, but if mercenaries didn't, mercenaries slipped on little stinky piles in the mornings.

Mercenaries even had to endure getting yelled at by a little old lady in the park for not having a leash. The next day, he had.

Having a dog Max's size was not very manly, Slade had to admit, although it got the women, and some men, to flock to him like starving pigeons. That might be good for flirting, but not horribly good for someone who wanted to stay inconspicuous.

He couldn't be a full-time dog–owner, however, or Max would have to live on the cheaper brands of dog-food. Unfortunately the pup had chewed through the blueprints he needed for his next mission, which meant he had to get new ones, at City Hall… and these were not the kind he could simply walk in and ask to see.

It all went well, of course, until a certain little bird happen to spot him as he was just opening the door to his lair, which was the worst possible moment, really.

"Slade!"

The teen came flying, and the mercenary had no choice but to drop the roll of prints and defend himself. He was not the only one with that idea, though…

"GRRRRrrrrrrr-aff!"

Great, my dog, can't even growl properly… Slade thought to himself.

"What the… oh, that's a terrifying guard-dog you have there…" Robin grinned before bursting out in a short laugh.

"AFF-AFF-AFF!" Max barked excitedly.

"Awww… that's so cute…" Robin smiled, and Slade didn't even think he was teasing him. Much.

"Max, inside!" Slade ordered and tried to, gently, push the puppy aside with his foot.

"His name is Max? Aw, you're so cute Max! Who's a cute puppy?"

Upon hearing this, Max started wagging his tail.

"Traitor," Slade muttered under his breath.

"Well… gonna put the dog away so we can do this?" Robin asked next. "And don't worry, I'll take care of him while you are in prison…"

"We'll see about that," the man snorted and picked the dog up, placing him in an empty crate which would keep him for now.

They fought, both of them staying away from the crate where the yapping and howling had turned rather deafening as the pup tied to jump out of it. Suddenly Max obviously called on all the power his short legs could muster and managed to get his front paws over the edge. Seeing his Master in apparent danger, his back legs scrambled until he landed on the ground with an triumphant "Aff!". Then Max attacked.

"Ow!" the bite on his ankle didn't even really hurt, just leaving a mark in his boots, not his skin, but Robin looked down at a very crucial moment and didn't manage to block the swipe of Slade's bo-staff.

The blow landed on the side of his head and the teen crumpled to the ground, where he stayed still. Max thought this was a great new game, much better than 'guess what the newspapers are for', and yipped happily while he was licking the teen's face.

"So you like him again?" Slade snorted. "I can't believe I finally managed to get him to stay down, and I needed the help of a puppy to do it…"

Max wagged his tail and looked very proud of himself, while Slade pondered the next move.

"Soo… once you catch a bird… what do you do with it?"

Robin woke up with a horrible headache and expected clues to his equally horribly fate as he forced his eyes open. He didn't expect to see his own bedroom. He groaned as he sat up and spotted a jar of aspirin and a glass of water on the bedside table. There was also a note.

"Max decided not to eat you. This time. /S"

Robin blinked and swallowed a few pills before deciding to go back to sleep. He was most likely in a coma, after all, and would soon wake up hanging from chains in a dark, blood splattered room. At least he hoped so, because this was simply too weird.

A few weeks passed by as weeks tend to do, and Slade crossed paths with the Titans a few times, if only briefly. At one time, as he fought Robin face to face, the teen grinned at him.

"So, how's Max?" he asked under his breath.

Slade blinked, because it was clear that the teen kept his voice down so his team wouldn't hear. He hadn't told his friends? He had pictured them sitting around laughing at 'big bad Slade and his Weiner-dog' several times, after all. He had even had a nightmare about it.

"Just fine."

"Oh, good, I was afraid I fell on him…" Robin said, and sounded sincere. They were still fighting full out, but none of them seemed to notice that. "Umm… thank you for not… errmm… letting Max eat me…" Robin muttered next.

"Well, I got to say I'm a bit curious about the taste myself," Slade smirked, and then almost froze. He couldn't believe he had just said something like that… not to an eighteen-year old… and a hero to boot! The result, however, was fascinating; Robin blushed to the tips of his ears.

"Well…" the teen cleared his throat and ducked a punch as he tried to get one in himself. "Sometime… maybe I'll let you have a lick?"

The fight ended soon thereafter with Slade simply jumping on top of a bus, leaving Robin behind. He saw the young man gesture for his team not to pursue him and shook his head as he chuckled a little. This was getting more and more interesting by the minute…

He had had to move, of course, after Robin had stumbled onto his hide-out like that, but the small apartment by the park fit Max so much better. He had even secured a work-area in the basement which kept the pup away from the blueprints and electronics.

The location was also ideal for the multiple 'walkies' of the day, and Slade found that he actually enjoyed getting out more during the light hours even if it, like now, including bending over to pick up Max's leavings with a small black plastic bag.

Suddenly the tiny dog got excited over something and ran off. Slade, who really didn't have to hold the leash very hard under normal circumstances, felt it slip through his fingers.

"Max! Stop! Come back!" but the pup was already off through the undergrowth and out of sight. Slade could hear his 'affs', however, and set off in hot pursuit. He could picture anything, from Max being run over to him getting chewed up by a crazy Pit-bull.

"Max!" Slade tried in vain to call the little hell-hound back, and then heard a yell and the sound of someone falling to the ground.

"Max!" Slade called out again as he came crashing out from the bushes, only to see a young man, who had obviously been out jogging, picking himself up from the gravel, with an excited puppy dancing around his feet.

"Max?" the young man said, and then looked up.

The world froze for a moment as the enemies stared at each other, both, immediately; knowing who they were looking at, even though none of them wore masks.

"Aff! Aff! Aff!" Max barked and started to pull on Robin's shoe-laces.

"This is very strange…" Slade said slowly, while Robin blushed. He could see the teen was checking him out, but of course he didn't mind.

"How… so?" Robin asked, trying to act casual, like bumping into your nemesis and letting his dog eat your shoes was something that happened to him every day.

"Well… Dachshunds are bread to hunt badgers, not birds…"

"Funny."

"I thought so."

"AFF!"

"And so did Max," Slade continued.

"Two against one again then… not fair…" Robin said, laughing a bit nervously.

"We're not much for playing fair, Max and I…" the man leered, and the young man's reaction reminded Slade that he didn't have a mask on. Still, it was fun to see that blush again. Wondering how far he could push it, he took a few steps closer.

"So… I wanted to ask you something…" he purred, seeing the teen swallow.

"Yeah?"

"It's just a suggestion… you can say no…"

"I won't- I mean… alright?"

"Could you doggy-sit for a week?"

Robin blinked.

"Wha-what?"

"I have to go out of town for a few days, and, besides… we need to make sure Max likes you."

"We-we do?"

"Of course… and if he does… well, we're two against one again."

"I… I…. okay?"

Slade had never seen Robin so far off his game before and couldn't help but wonder what the teen might look like while being… well… 'played' with some more. In private.

"Good. I'll drop him off at the Tower tonight at eight. Meet me outside. And don't worry… he won't chew on your things… unlike me. Come now, Max… time to go home," Slade said and picked a protesting puppy up. Max had had too much fun with Robin's shoes to be willing to leave just yet, but he didn't have a choice.

They left a gaping teen behind. Robin just stood there for quite some time before shaking his head.

"I still must be in that coma…"

The End

A/N: hope you enjoyed it! Why "Max"? Because in Swedish the breed is called "Tax" and so Max-the-Tax… pretty common name for those types of dogs here… ;) This MIGHT get a sequel on the 18'th, but that's up to that day's b-day child, so we'll see!

B-DAY REQUESTS HAVE BEEN CLOSED FOR NOW!

Yes, I know I just posted the first one, but I got a LOT more b-day requests than I thought, some weeks are almost fully "booked", and barely a week is "empty", and, unless I end up doing only one-page-stories, I won't have a chance to write them all, so I'm closing all requests for now UNLESS your birthday is in DECEMBER and you therefore didn't get a b-day drabble last year, because of the x-mas drabbles… then give me the date, but JUST the date… I'll contact you for your wish some time in November…

The autumn is a bit emptier so I might open up for requests again at a later date… I'm sorry, but I really didn't expect to get this many and I'm going to try to start writing an original story this year, so… at least there will be plenty of Sladin this year, and if you already sent your date in, you'll get a story, no worries!