Nine: Snow Goose

Dick's lungs burned with every ice-cold breath he took as he ran up the slippery, snow-covered stairs. Normally, he'd take two at a time, but his foot had slid dangerously to the right when he started his assent. Sure, he had great balance and probably could have made it to the top without breaking his neck, but his common sense (which, for some reason, sounded a lot like Bruce when he was telling him not to be reckless during training) told him that he shouldn't chance it. He just needed to get to the top and fast while he had the chance. It wouldn't be long before they realized that he wasn't in his hiding spot anymore, and then –

A snowball exploded on the railing next to Dick and sent powder flying through the air. He didn't slow down but chanced a glance behind him in time to see Jason throw another snowball. Dick dodged left, which took him out of the Jason's snowball's trajectory...and right into Tim's.

"Good shot, Timbers," Jason said as Dick tried to brush some of the snow out of his ear. Tim really did have pretty good aim.

"I told you he'd go left," Tim replied in what would almost be considered a self-satisfied kind of way had it been from anyone else. Tim just made it sound like a known fact.

At least Bruce had decided to stay inside. Training would suck if he knew that Dick was becoming predictable enough that a six-year-old knew how he was going to move.

Scrambling up the last few steps, Dick slid behind the large concrete column for some protection against the new onslaught coming from below. A few of the snowballs hit column or the banister just above his head, and one wild throw managed to actually make it over and plop right on top of his head, sending ice slush right down his ears and neck. Maybe he should have listened to Alfred when he told him to wear a hat, even if it was as ridiculous as the one Alfred made Tim wear. At least he was warm.

Couching down low, Dick packed a snowball and peeked around his cover.

Jason had taken position at the bottom of the stairs, standing on the other side of the column that matched the one Dick was hiding behind at the top. He hadn't bothered to zip up his jacket yet after he took it off to get the snow that Dick had dumped down it and started this whole thing. Alfred wouldn't be happy.

Tim was no where to be seen, but Dick didn't think for a minute that he'd give up. Not after Dick had turned on him during the first battle.

Hey, all's fair in love and snowball wars.

Standing up, Dick threw his snowball at Jason, who easily ducked down behind the column. It knocked some of the snow off the top and onto Jason, but did little else.

Well, that and exposed Dick to Tim's on assault from behind one of the nearby bushes that lined the staircase. It happened so fast that all Dick saw was Tim pop up like a Jack-n-the-Box and then white slush hitting him right in the face.

Crouching down, Dick shook the ice-cold from his face and shoulders as he heard Jason cheering Tim on again.

Okay, so betraying Tim, maybe not Dick's best strategy.

Still, couldn't let them know that.

"You guys give up yet?" he yelled out.

His only answer was a barrage of snowballs hitting the column.

A deep chuckle drew Dick's attention away from the onslaught. Bruce stood a few feet away, seeming perfectly comfortable in the freezing weather even though he didn't have on a coat or gloves or anything like Alfred had made all three of them wear before letting them out of the house. On top of that, his black turtleneck and pants made him stand out from the cold white that covered the entirety of terrace, which made Dick wonder how exactly he'd missed his approach. He'd like to chalk it up to him being Batman and hoped Bruce did too.

"Shouldn't they be asking you that?" he asked, sounding far too amused.

"I've got it under control," Dick replied.

Which, of course, is when another bombardment of snowballs come flying at him.

Dick said, "Well, maybe I could use a little help."

Bruce, however, raised an eyebrow. "After the way you turned on Tim?"

Dick felt his face to heat up, but before he could reply, another snowball arched high in the air and hit Bruce square in the chest. Dick's eyes widen, and he quickly stood up to see where it had come from. Tim had manged to make his way back to the bottom and was staring up in horror at Jason, who was halfway up the staircase. He smirked and tossed another snowball from hand to hand and then asked, "What you going to do about it, Old Man?"

Dick's attention shot back over to Bruce. After a moment, Bruce returned the stare.

A smile that could almost be described as malicious spread across Dick's face. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Alfred stood at the opened French doors with a small smile as the sounds of childish shrieks and shouts of encouragements filled the otherwise silent room. Just below them was a deep laughter that this house had only started to hear more of in the past six months than it had in years, which caused Alfred's smile to grow. It was a sound that warmed him far beyond anything that the comfortable fire in the hearth could do.

From his vantage point, he could see that Master Bruce had captured both Master Jason and Master Tim and had lifted them both off the ground. They both squirmed uselessly as they tried to get the arm that held them to release them but to no avail, as Master Bruce walked over to one of the deeper snowdrifts that had gathered towards the bottom of the slight hill that lead down from the manor. Master Jason was yelling to let him go, but at the same time, gripped tightly onto Master Bruce when he realized what he planned to do to him. As Master Bruce began to throw the boy, Master Jason held on to him. Combined with Master Timothy throwing his weight back towards Master Bruce resulted in him overbalancing himself. He twisted as he fell so that he didn't fall on either one of the boys, who laughing and encouraging each other for revenge.

Not one to be left out, Master Dick fell down besides them and started to toss snow over himself and onto the others.

Alfred's smile grew.

"Ennyurth."

Master Damian sat on the floor in front of the gated fireplace. There were a multitude of drawn upon paper around him, but the boy's latest creation had been at least temporarily abandoned so that he maybe address Alfred.

He was the only one of the four children who had refused to go outside. Not at first, of course. He had been just as curious as any other young child the first time they see snow. Even with the multitude of layers that he dressed him, however, Master Damian had not wanted to leave the manor when he realized the freezing temperature outside. Instead, he had chosen to spend the day with his father inside and by the fire, coloring his pictures and occasionally watching the other boys play in the snow.

He barely paid Alfred any mind earlier when he came in with the hot chocolate – which was not so hot any longer – for the boys, but Alfred was worth his attention now.

Crossing his arms, Master Damian said, "Cold."

Alfred glanced back out the open door and then closed it.

"Quite right, Master Damian," he said as he walked over to the boy and picked him up. "I'm afraid your father and brothers will be occupied for a while long yet, but never worry. You can help me finish preparing dinner until they return."

AN: Just something short.