A/N: Happy b-day Pri-TheBishounenPuppeteer (June 12)!

This story is freestanding, somewhat crackish, and Bruce hates me for it… so it's all good…;)

The Pretenders

"Stop looking at my ward!" Bruce hissed to the other man, having more or less dragged him away from the lively party currently in session at Wayne Manor.

"I'm not the only one doing the looking, he gives as good as he gets," Slade smirked.

"You are a criminal and-"

"Tsk-tsk, acquitted, remember? Thanks to you and your little league. Good job, by the way."

"Still, I don't want you anywhere near Richard!"

"You were the one who didn't tell him that I am Deathstroke," the man shrugged.

"Only because we need you to be completely undercover for this mission," Bruce growled, "You are supposed to be an old friend of the Wayne family, and Richard has to treat you like that."

"He's very welcome to treat me friendly," Slade nodded appreciatively. "In fact… I shall encourage it any way I can…" the man added and left a fuming Bruce, to instead saunter over to the Boy Wonder who blushed, looking like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't. Which he had. Because you should never, ever, flirt with a mercenary under your caretaker's roof, at least that rule was pretty clear to the Bat.

"Hello, Richard."

"Oh, hi!" Robin grinned up at the man, hoping he didn't look like an idiot. "Um… so… Bruce didn't say, but I've never met you, have I?"

"I visited very briefly after you first came here… but we barely saw each other, no… after all, you had just lost your parents. My condolences, I should add."

"Thank you. And sorry, I don't remember you, but it was mostly a blur back then… so you are friends with Bruce?" The conversation was mostly an excuse to just ogle the man. Robin liked these parties, because he had a thing for men in tuxes, and with so many of them surrounding him, dressed to the teeth, the poor teen couldn't help but salivate a bit. Tonight Mr. Wilson stood out among them, however, and not only because of that eye patch, which made him look extremely interesting. No, Wilson was like a wolf in a group of Yorkies… he demanded respect in a way Robin had never experienced before. So yeah, he would mindlessly chat with him as long as he possibly could, thank you very much.

"My parents and his were close, but we moved away about a year before… you know."

"Yes… so you…. played together as kids?"

"I am a bit older than he is and I seem to remember thinking that Bruce was a childish brat," Slade grinned.

"Funny, he still is," the teen grinned back. "So… not kept in touch much, then?"

"Oh, now and then. My parents traveled the world and I continued in their footsteps," the man told him. "It's too easy to forget old family ties then… but sooner or later you have to return to your roots."

"Well, I hope you feel welcomed. And travelling… I wouldn't mind doing more of that myself."

"What's stopping you?"

"Um… well… school, and… well, I have a lot of responsibilities."

"You are young, to hell with those," Slade shrugged. "They will be there waiting for you when you get older, trust me."

"Yeah… maybe a trip or two wouldn't be so bad…" the teen smiled almost dreamingly. "So… if you could be anywhere in the world right now," he asked the man, "where would that be?"

"In the ballroom, dancing with you."

Slade felt quite pleased at the blush his words created. He rather enjoyed changing the color on people's faces, be it to pink, white, green, or, on occasion, blue or purple.

"Um… okay?" the young man finally answered to the mercenary's delight. The man, with a glance and a smirk over his shoulder at a black-eyed Bruce, escorted young Mr. Grayson to the ballroom where the live orchestra was just beginning to play a classic waltz.

They were soon the centre of the dance floor, moving perfectly together, and then Robin looked up at him, his blue eyes glittering mischievously.

"So, care to tell me about your JL mission?" the teen asked, quietly enough so no one else but Slade could hear him.

"Clever boy."

"Clever; yes. Boy; no," the hero smirked.

"So you know who I am, and you're still dancing with me?" Slade asked, wondering what was going on in the stunning young man's mind.

"Oh, yes… and not only to piss off Bruce," Robin grinned.

"But that's part of it?"

"A little bit, yes. Do you mind?"

"Pissing Bruce off happens to be a very dear hobby of mine, which I seldom get to practice, so I don't mind at all," the mercenary promised.

"Good. It's just… he drives me mad sometimes. Not only does he fully expect that I've never heard about one of the world's most sought after mercenaries, just because I haven't met you on a case, but he also apparently thinks I couldn't act like you are a friend to the family, for some reason… he still treats me like a child sometimes, and I need him to stop."

"Getting back at him by flirting with me might not be considered very mature, though," Slade pointed out.

"No… but fun," Robin smiled innocently. "May I call you Slade, by the way?"

"Of course."

"Good… Slade… I like that name."

"You're welcome to say it as often as you'd like. Or moan it. Or scream it."

"Heh, I want to annoy Bruce, not kill him," Robin chuckled.

"Ah. Pity… You know you are probably the sole heir, don't you?"

"Hmmm…."

"Yes. Think about that," the man smirked.

Bruce tried very hard to be his hospitable, happy-go-lucky self as he conversed with the guests, but seeing Slade dancing with Robin, the hand around the teen's waist a bit too far down as well… it didn't make him happy. Neither did seeing them talking and laughing together with some other guests, or Slade brining his ward some refreshments, or the two of them walking out onto the balcony together.

"Excuse me for a moment," Bruce said to the Mayor, right in the middle of one of his pompous declarations, and hurried after them.

When he found them, it was all innocent enough; Slade was leaning against a pillar, while Robin was admiring the view. There was an appropriate amount of space between them, but who knew for how long?

"Hi Bruce, what are you doing out here?" Robin asked brightly.

"Getting a bit hot? We were," Slade leered, running his eye over the teen's backside.

"Richard, I need you inside."

"But Slade was just telling me about his trip to Russ-"

"NOW!" Bruce took a deep breath. He knew the young man could hardly be ordered around anymore. "People are asking for you. We are the hosts after all."

"Fine, I just needed some fresh air. Coming, Slade?"

"I think Mr. Wilson has taken up enough of your time tonight. You should mingle a bit. He will, after all, stay at the house, so you'll see him tomorrow."

"Yes, you will," Slade smirked.

"Looking forward to it," Robin grinned back.

Robin did as Bruce had asked for the rest of the evening and browsed the room, rarely even seeing Slade. His stomach felt a bit flutter-y as he thought of the man. When they had been introduced earlier that day Robin had recognized him immediately, but not shown any sign of it. Contrary to what Batman apparently thought, the teen knew quite a bit about the mercenary. He had first come across him when doing profiling exercises using the vast amount of personal records on file in the Batcave, and he had taken an interest for some reason. He had never expected to actually meet the man, though, and yes, it was a bit like suddenly bumping into a celebrity.

He knew Batman knew who the man was and that there had to be a good reason for him being here. There wasn't a good reason, however, to not tell Robin the truth. The JL-thing had been a guess, though, but Slade had confirmed it. Bruce was too unhappy with the man being there for this to be all his own idea, after all.

Robin had decided to confront his mentor but hadn't quite managed before the party, and then Slade had given him a look. Or maybe the teen had given the man a look first, but he was pretty sure it was the other way around. And then Bruce had given Slade a look. And then sweet, sweet revenge could begin.

It was only flirting, after all. Robin liked to flirt. And he loved flirting with Slade. The man was just... the hero couldn't quite find the right word… charismatic? Facinating? It was like they responded just perfectly to each other, even though the man's criminal record… well… he had one. Still, he should probably tell Bruce he knew soon, Robin supposed, but it could wait to the next day, after all.

Robin had breakfast in the kitchen with Alfred as he didn't want to eat alone and the house owner and their guest seemed to have disappeared on business. He wasn't really that interested in what that business involved, it was League-stuff and he knew he wouldn't be allowed to help. He only cared about the 'let's not tell Robin'-part.

"Do you know when Bruce and our 'friend' will be back?" Robin asked the old man.

"Ah, so you know, Master Richard?" Alfred said, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Ah, damn… yeah, don't tell Bruce?"

"Don't curse in the house."

"Oops. Sorry. Please?"

"I won't. I happen to think you made a very handsome couple last night," the butler smiled.

"Aaaaal…" Robin groaned, still not quite mature enough to be able to handle being teased about his crushes. "Wait? You knew?"

"Of course, I would have remembered the Wilson's after all, had they existed."

"That's another thing… why introduce him as Slade Wilson, why not make another name up?"

"I heard Bruce suggested 'Horace Thimbledon'," Alfred divulged.

"That explains it then. Besides, 'Deathstroke' is what he's known as, after all, only a handful of people know his real name…" Robin reasoned as he slowly chewed on a piece of toast. "Well, I'm off to class, see you tonight?"

"Of course, Master Richard," Alfred smiled "Now pay attention, no daydreaming of a certain man!"

"Aaaaal!" Robin groaned again.

The following week was hell for Bruce. Not only did he have to work closely with Slade, someone with absolutely no respect for him and who also were intelligent enough to actually make some very good, and stinging, points in their discussions, he also had to keep an eye on his ward.

Whenever he didn't have either of them under surveillance he got uneasy, and it seemed they both tended to disappear a lot at the same time. He saw them in the study, playing chess, in the upper gallery discussing art, helping Alfred carry the shopping inside, jogging around the grounds and, one time, he found them playing tennis in the back yard. The court had been kept up but unused since he was a boy, and he had no idea Robin even knew how to hold a tennis racket. Much less Slade. He was grateful that he hadn't caught them in any more compromising positions, but judging by how they acted that surely only was a matter of time… and the mission would last for at least another week! Bruce wondered if he perhaps should send the boy overseas to study for a while.

One evening Robin unexpectedly walked in on Slade in the library where the teen had planned to do some homework. Suddenly things were a bit... awkward. All the times they had spent together had been planned, setups even, and now he suddenly felt like he was walking into the room half naked.

"Hello, Robin," the man nodded to him, looking up from browsing one of the shelves.

"Um… hi," the teen mumbled, feeling a slight thrill as the man used his secret name. "Um… listen… thanks for helping me annoy Bruce for the last couple of days."

"My pleasure. Have you told him yet? Weren't you going to today?" Slade asked and came closer, absolutely invading Robin's personal space, not that the teen minded.

"No… haven't seen him yet, actually," Robin, who had declared being tired of trying to get the man to confess, said. "Maybe-"

"What are you two doing!" the Dark Knight's voice rang through the air.

"Talking Bruce! We're fucking talking! What's wrong with you?" Robin snapped.

"Maybe he's afraid we're talking about fucking?" Slade asked innocently, but so quietly so only the teen could hear.

As Bruce realized that he couldn't forbid the young man to talk to the mercenary without supplying a very good reason, he switched tactics.

"Alfred wanted you to help him with something in the kitchen," the man tried.

"That's strange, Al usually forbids me to help him in the kitchen," Robin grinned. "Seriously, you can't come up with a better excuse?"

"For what?" the man asked.

Robin gave Slade a glance and a wink. All thoughts of ending the silliness disappeared as, even now, Bruce wouldn't come clean. So be it, then.

"Bruce, I know he's older, but-"

"WHAT?"

Robin pressed closer to Slade, seeking 'shelter' in his arms. "Bruce, we… we love each other and there's nothing you can do about it!"

"Wh… wh…. wh…." the dark knight stuttered, while the mercenary embraced the teen and kissed his hair.

"Slade has told me so many wonderful things about his family, his life, and how you used to play as children… it's like he's my dream-man!" Robin cooed. "He's so gentle, and loving, and he works to help people all over the world, and-"

"HE'S A MERCENARY! HE'S DEATHSTROKE THE TERMINATOR! NOW GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM!" Bruce finally snapped.

"Oh, I know that," the teen grinned.

"Y… huh?" Bruce just breathed, the air in his lungs having being wasted screaming.

"I knew. All along. So we decided to play a little trick on you," Robin said and stepped away from the man's arms. Slade just chuckled and seemed to enjoy the show.

"So… you … the dancing…? Everything…? Tennis? It was just…?"

"To freak you out, yes," Slade smirked. "Ant it looks like it worked."

"I hate you. Both, probably," the Dark Knight growled.

"You should have told me the truth," Robin shrugged.

"It was need-to-know."

"And I needed to know!"

"Fine. I apologize. The next time I let a killer pose as a family friend I'll let you know."

"And that's all I ask," Robin grinned. "Now, I have a ton of homework to so, so…?"

"Yes… of course…" Bruce mumbled, and slunk out the door, hypothetical tail between his legs.

"That was a nice show, Robin," Slade chuckled.

"Yeah. Serves him right too."

"Yes, he probably feels rather foolish, thinking that we were… up to something," the man nodded.

"Yes, he won't dare do that again…" the teen smirked. "So... wanna come up to my room?"

The End

A/N: Smitten Robin is always fun to write. I love, as you know, smitten innocent Robin, but smitten smart Robin is more IC… ;) And more devious as well… ;)