All of the foster parents I had ever had waited until the government sent them a check for me, and then dropped me off at Wal-Mart. They would wait somewhere in the store, letting me shop for myself, and just paid for whatever I picked out. It wasn't until I had been with the Duncan family that my usual choice of baggy t-shirts, boy jeans, converse, and hoodie had been an issue. Once I was with them, my wardrobe was decided for me. Skirts, dressed, sparkly leggings, and other girly things that had practically forced me to come out, to try and avoid them.

Which turned out brilliantly.

Chris was turning out to be very different. Chris took me right to the mall. And by the mall, I mean the nice stores. Upper level. Thirty dollars for a t-shirt.

He looked around the stores for a moment, pondering something, then turned to me, "What would you consider your style to be?"

I looked down at my clothes, then back up at him. "I like dark colors."

He nodded, "Shorts or jeans?"

"Jeans."

"Button ups or t-shirts?"

"T-shirts."

"Any preferences on shoes or jackets?"

"Converse and boots, hoodies."

He nodded, smiling, "Let's try Cotton On!"

Something I found out very quickly, is that Chris really liked clothes. Whether they were for him, or anyone else. Before we had even left Cotton On, I had three bags filled with clothes. And he still didn't think it was enough. He dragged me to three more stores, before finally letting me collapse onto a bench in the food court.

"Well, this was a lovely little shopping trip, don't you think?" He asked pleasantly as he sipped on a lemonade slushy from a smoothie stand.

"I've never shopped this much in my life." I groaned.

"Really? This must be an amazing day for you." He joked.

I grunted, feeling way more drained than I should just from shopping.

"So, Andy. Just so we're on the same page here, how far have you transitioned?"

I sighed, "I have a binder on, and I try to look like a boy. That's honestly all I could do."

He nodded, "I promise, once you get situated in school, Arnold and I will get you a therapist to talk to. He'll see what stage you're at mentally, and well go from there, ok?"

I nodded, thoughts of going to doctors and surgeons flooding my mind. Getting my body to truly reflect who I was. Not having to wear a binder anymore… being comfortable looking at myself in a mirror. I had never thought I would actually be able to achieve those things, but here Chris comes along, and starts offering them to me. Or the possibility for getting them anyways.

On the way home, Chris told me what he and Arnold do for a living. Arnold owned two restaurants, and a night club. One of the restaurants was a three star (which was good apparently), the other was just starting out, but apparently was a successful sushi restaurant. The nightclub was called The Excel, and he used it to feature a lot of local talent, bands and such.

Chris was an online history tutor on the weekends, and weekdays, he ran a thrift store in town that gave its profit to local soup kitchens. I was starting to view Chris as this all around nice guy. It wasn't exactly a bad thing to be a nice guy. But I would never be able to relate to him. I was about the farthest thing from nice that you could get.

When we got home, Chris flung the door open, and paused. He then broke out into a grin, and called into the kitchen, "I TAKE IT MIDTERMS ARE GOING WELL?"

Cody poked his head out from the kitchen, his hair still up in a messy bun. "Chef Alejandro told me that my curry could compare to some he's had in four star restaurants."

Chris gestured towards the kitchen, "So, what's for dinner?"

"Seeing as I didn't know what Andy liked, I just made a little bit of everything. I figured we would eat family style tonight. After all, we're studying that next week. I'd like to be on top of my game when it happens." He answered, walking back into the kitchen.

"Is Arnold home yet?" Chris asked.

"Yeah. Well, I think I heard the front door open and close about an hour ago. He might of said hello, but I don't remember responding." He called back to Chris.

Chris sighed, "Of course you wouldn't." He turned back to me, smiling. "Why don't you go put all your new clothes away? Cody will call us all down for dinner when it's done."

I nodded, "Ok."

I had about half of it folded/hung up when I heard Cody scream something. I think he was speaking in French. Either way, I saw it as a sign to come downstairs.

Cody had set the table, and everything looked so straight, he must have used a ruler to place everything so precisely. There were two big pots on the table, sitting on dish towels, and three smaller ones between them.

Chris was already there, standing on his tip toes, kissing a much taller man. Must be Arnold. As Chris pulled away, I got my first good look at Arnold. He was much tanner than Chris, which wasn't saying much because Chris was Snow White. Arnold was dressed in a pair or cargo shorts and a navy blue v-neck. He had glasses, and a silver hoop ear ring in his right ear. He nodded towards me, sticking out his hand for me to shake.

I appreciated not getting pulled into a hug. "Andy, I presume."

I nod, "Nice to meet you, Arnold."

The table has only two chairs on one side, two on the other. Arnold and Chris sit down on one side, which left me sitting next to Cody. Before anyone touched their forks, Cody started talking about the food.

"I made a Sheppard's pie, baked ravioli, vegetable fried rice, French onion soup, and I fried up that shrimp, just because it was about to go bad." Cody turned to me as Chris reached for that soup. "What kind of food do you usually eat?"

"I'll eat hot dogs, fries, Philly Cheese Steak subs, when I can find them cheap, usually." I answered. "Food stands and trucks are normally where I get food. It doesn't really matter though; I'll eat just about anything."

Arnold had scooped himself both Sheppard's Pie and fried rice when he finally asked me something. "Andy, I'm not trying to single you out, or try to make you feel uncomfortable, but this is a very serious question. Chris and I are both very proud of the children we foster. Keeping that privilege is a very difficult thing to do."

"And we feel like we've done a lot of good with that." Chris said, reaching over and holding Arnold's hand. I took the opportunity to scoop some of the fried rice onto my plate, along with ravioli. "Our worst nightmare would be losing our ability to help the kids that need a home."

Arnold continued. "So, what we're going to ask you, Andy, is to take a drug test."

I paused, mouth full of fried rice. It was really good, to be honest. Best I've ever had. I swallowed, "Uh, sure. I never did drugs."

Arnold raised an eyebrow, "Never? You've been on the streets of Gotham City for three years, and you've never tried any drug?"

"I thought about it, but people that do drugs always end up in jail, or losers. I didn't wanna be like them. Even just pot heads, they start doing dumb shit. Get sloppy, get arrested." I explained.

Chris smiled, "You're a very smart kid, Andy. How is the ravioli?"

I popped one in my mouth, "Spicy."

Cody smirked, "I usually make them with ghost pepper sauce."

"If you ever try and trick me into eating anything hotter than buffalo wing sauce, I'll cut off your man bun." I said.

Cody snickered, "Dude, touch my hair, and I'll throw you off the balcony."

"Ever been curb stomped before?" I asked.

"Nah, why?"

"Just thinking the curb out front could use a splash of color. Red would go nice with the surrounding foliage." I said, finishing off my rice.

Arnold sighed, "I thought Mikey was gone."

At my puzzled expression, Chris explained, "Mikey used to banter with Cody all the time. It got physical a few times. If you two boys get into a fight, I swear, you better take it outside. Every damn thing in this house is expensive. You break anything, I will make you work at the soup kitchens for a month."

Cody shivered, "But… they don't have a spice rack."

I raised an eyebrow, "Really? That's your biggest concern?"

"They don't have sauce pans either." He hissed, "Or a proper rice steamer."

LATER THAT NIGHT:

Turns out that Cody refused to let anyone do the dishes except him. Something about how no one knows how to soak properly. So I had gone up to my room, and settled into a pair of pajamas that Chris had insisted looked 'adorable' on me. Some light blue bottoms with SpongeBob characters on them, and a white sleeveless top with the pineapple house on it.

I had been leafing through the pamphlet of the new school I would be going to, Gotham County High School. It was said to have good sports teams and academic teams. But every school said that about themselves.

There was a knock on my door, and I said "Come in."

Arnold opened the door, holding up a plastic cup with a blue lid. "Fill it up, champ."

I took it to the bathroom, did my business, and tried not to let any of the pee drip down the sides. Arnold squinted at the lid, which was supposed to change color or something if drugs were detected. After a few seconds, he nodded, smiling. "Welcome to the family, Andy."

WITH DICK, IN THE BATCAVE:

"Has your alien whore never heard of birth control?" Damian sassed.

Dick sighed, "Little D, Kori was not a whore. She was on Earth for years, and I was the only guy she ever went to bed with."

Damian rolled his eyes. "Her costume tells quite the different story."

Dick let his forehead hit the table. "Damian, the minute I get this sorted out, I'm taking you to a sexual harassment seminar."

"What's going on?" Tim walked into the cave, and his eyes flicked to the screen. Seeing Dick's picture, next to some boy named Andy Doe, and the DNA test loading, brought him up to speed immediately. "You did not…"

Damian pointed his finger accusingly at Dick. "Grayson has polluted the world with his spawn."

"Who's the mom?" Tim dared to ask.

"Kori." Dick sighed. "Raven finally came clean, after fifteen years."

Tim stood there a moment, blinking, contemplating the situation. He then turned towards the stairs leading up into the manor, "ALFRED! WE NEED YOUR HELP!"

Damian was not one to let the matter go, and, crossing his arms laid into Dick once more. "It wasn't enough for you to just be a disappointment here, was it? You had to spread your genetic inferiority to other planets. How the Tamaranian's will weep in shame over this contamination."

Dick ground his teeth together, "I. Get. It."

A few seconds past, before the butler descended the stairs, "Whatever is the matter, Master Timothy?"

Tim pointed to the screen, "I don't know what to say to Dick. Bruce isn't here. Please do something."

Alfred, to his credit, didn't even hesitate. He walked forward, placing a hand on Dick's shoulder. "Master Richard, do not fret over maybes. Only think of what you know."

Almost as if agreeing with him, the computer beeped. Every pair of eyes in the room flicked to the screen, to see the truth.

Richard Grayson and Andy Doe had no relation.

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