Author's Note: *glomps every reader and reviewer with love* Hey, all! Do you know what this update means?

That's right! It's the one shot announcing that the sequel to Forgotten Bonds has finally begun its release! Woo! I'm so happy to be able to begin it, I can't even tell you.

Just some updates about Forgotten Bonds in general. There's a completed PDF up on GoodReads now for your downloading happiness. ^^ Apparently, it's not completely free of errors, but after literally going over 603 pages 10 times, I think I'm done, folks. XD Also, if any of you are inclined and able, I would greatly appreciate any ratings and reviews on GoodReads as well, so that it can gain interest there.

I truly am thankful for all my readers. They make writing that much more fun. Writing for me is something I do for myself, really. But to see it bless and uplift the lives of so many others, I can't help but think of every unknown, yet somehow known face as I write each word. In some ways, I still write for myself – because I enjoy it, because I myself wish to read it – but I always have my lovely readers in my mind as well when I write.

Okay, so, apparently, I ran away with this one shot and made it far too long for a single update. I couldn't quite finish it in time, so this means ya'll get two updates. XD Literally, the total amount of story this little cutie takes is over 11k long. So, I'll update next week as well.

Now, I'm telling you, this one shot – this update and the next – is all fluff. Seriously. Fluff, fluff, fluff. You're gonna melt. It's only meant for a fun, silly thing. (Thought of it during the writing of FB) And well, honestly, we never get Slade and Robin fluff very often, so I guess that can be my excuse… LOL. Ahh, but seriously… IT'S SUPER FLUFFY. Haha! And on top of it all, I have no idea where this can go on my timeline. The previous interlude completely set the timeline, so there's no substantial date. Just imagine this sometime in between the end of the previous novel and sequel. *tries shoving it in between*

*scratches head*

Yeah, that's works. XD

On with the story!

The Baby Robin – Part One

Some unknown date, 2009. Monday, 5:23 pm.

The air just spelled trouble. Slade knew it. It was like that ancient saying some old men would say about oncoming storms – they could feel it in their bones. That was how Slade felt. He could feel it. Something wasn't right and that 'something' no doubt had something to do with his adopted fifteen year old son – who just happened to be Robin, the Boy Wonder, leader to the Teen Titans.

The tale of how that came about was not one Slade was willing to go through again. No indeed. It had been a long hard one and the only thing he wanted to think about was the present – no matter how much he felt worried about something.

Slade was still trying to adjust to the lifestyle change, but there was no doubt that Slade was pleased with the change. It was definitely a different pace of life, but he had all the time in the world for such a pace. Watching after a child that desperately needed him was probably the most fulfilling thing Slade had ever done.

He didn't regret it.

Slade tapped the edge of the table impatiently with his fingers. That uneasy feeling was rising in his chest again. This parenting thing was giving Slade grey hair. No doubt he would find grey in the midst of his all white hair. All he ever did was worry about that boy. It was the most annoying thing ever. But being a father, it was just one of those things. It certainly didn't help that Dick was a magnet for trouble, being the target by so many villains.

It was enough to make any self respecting man go comatose.

Slade was also trying his best to ignore Wintergreen's sneaky, sly suggestions of him becoming a cape. Oh, the old man never outright said anything any more, but it was those cunning moments where he'd just slip it into the conversation – like how someone slipped poison into a drink. It was a ludicrous idea and Slade was just not going to stoop to that all time low.

Just. No.

"Slade, would you calm down already?" chided Wintergreen, looking extremely amused. "Richard will be home in time for dinner. It's not even time, yet."

Slade rapped his fingers harder on the table surface and glared at the old man.

"I am calm," snapped Slade.

"Mmm…"

"Oh, shut up, Will."

There was an aged chuckle.

"You aren't calm. What's wrong with you, anyhow?" asked Wintergreen, taking a drink from his third cup of juice – a sign that he, too, was experiencing a slight nervous feeling about Dick. "There's nothing wrong."

"You feel it, too," snapped Slade again. "Something is most certainly wrong, I can just feel it. Dick has gotten into some kind of trouble."

"I'm sure it's no more than normal."

Well, that certainly wasn't comforting.

Slade was about to comment, when the kitchen door blessedly opened; causing to Slade look up and expectantly see his fifteen year old son grinning in the doorway. He was wrong, however. The group of Teen Titans slowly walked into the kitchen, each looking extremely nervous. Well, now, Slade was beginning to feel even more anxious. The way those kids were avoiding his eye just spelled trouble. Not only that, Dick was nowhere to be found.

Starfire was holding a little boy in her arms. He had a head full of raven black hair. His clothes were baggy and he had his head on the girl's shoulder. Slade narrowed his eye. There was something familiar about that boy, but he wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Where's Dick?" demanded Slade immediately, standing up and putting his hands on his hips. The teens in the room began to look nervous. As well they better – where's my son? The little boy turned to look at Slade, bright crystal blue eyes shining brightly. His young, round face lit up at the sight of Slade – like a light bulb switching on. He wiggled in Starfire's arms, his own arms outstretched towards Slade.

"Daddy!"

Slade's eyebrow bolted into his hair line as the little boy was set down. The instant his little feet touched the floor, he shot after Slade and collided into him, his arms wrapping around Slade's legs; his head barely higher than Slade's hips. Slade glared up at the Titans.

"Why is this child calling me Daddy?" demanded Slade, pointing his finger down at him. The boy looked up at Slade and giggled.

"Because you're my Daddy, silly Daddy!"

The boy continued to snuggle him happily as if he were a giant teddy bear. Well, Slade had about enough of that. It was once thing to let Dick cling to him, but a whole other thing to let this strange child attach himself to his legs. One precocious son was enough, thank you very much. Slade reached down and tried to detangle the boy from his legs, but he was met with fierce opposition to this.

"Daddy! I am hugging you," cried the boy indignantly. "And you better enjoy it!"

Slade, for the life of him, couldn't get what this boy was going on about; but the more he stared into those bright blue eyes, the more he realized that this little boy was truly his son. Those eyes were more than enough to prove that. But his son was a fifteen year old adolescent. He was not this little ankle biter. Sighing slightly, Slade lifted the boy up into his arms and set the child onto his hip; supporting him with one arm. The little boy rested his head onto Slade's shoulder and sighed contently.

Slade glared at the Titans.

"Someone want to explain why my fifteen year old son is now—" Slade stopped and looked over at the boy. "How old are you?"

"Why can't Daddy remember my age?"

Slade smirked.

"Aging defect."

The little boy giggled, his eyes blinking intelligently. He lifted both his hands and worked his fingers. Both hands managed to hold up three fingers each, until he popped up a fourth. He smiled as Slade as he displayed his fingers. Slade managed to interpret the boy's primitive numbering system.

"Seven. So, again, why is my fifteen year old son now a seven year old?" asked Slade with a frightening glint set on the Teen Titans, while a gentle hand patted his little boy on the bottom as the child began to snuggle into his chest with yet another happy, contented sigh. The action seemed automatic, something he'd always known, even though years had passed.

The Titans gave each other nervous looks. For a moment, it was as if they were trying to decide which one was going to relate the bad news – which one they were going to throw to the very angry, very protective father lion.

And it would seem that the alien girl took the challenge. Starfire took a step forward, clasping her hands together nervously.

"We were fighting against the Mad Mod. I believe he was trying to steal Robin's youth, but instead gave him what youth he had left."

"Yeah!" piped in Beast Boy, forgetting himself. "He's a really old man now. Well, he was old before, but now he's ancient."

There was a childish giggle in Slade's arms as the little boy squirmed slightly. Slade tightened his hold, so he wouldn't slip out of his arms. Dick didn't seem to want to leave them, however. His little body appeared as if he had way too much energy to burn.

Oh, dear…

"Fix it," said Slade, his voice low and dangerous as he emphasized each word. The Titans got that same extremely nervous expression across their face. Slade turned his attention onto the eldest of the group. For a moment, Cyborg looked alarmed at the gaze, but then he swallowed once.

"We tried, sir," said Cyborg, trying to give him a smile – but Slade was a rock in his stern expression. Cyborg gulped slightly. "Something's wrong and we can't seem to give Robin's youth back to Mad Mod."

Slade's eyebrow twitched.

"This is permanent?" growled Slade, tightening his hold around the little body in his arms.

"Not necessarily," said Raven. "We're going to restore Robin back to his original form, it'll just take some time."

"What do I do in the meantime?" demanded Slade.

There was a collective number of stares that Slade received at that. The stares darted between the child, then to Slade. It was becoming all too apparent that he was required to entertain this child until a cure was possible.

The panic that Slade felt was greater than anything he had ever felt before. What was he supposed to do with a younger version of his son? He didn't have the supplies or means to deal with a little child. What on earth was he going to do? Sure, he'd been a father before to younger children – in fact, Dick turning fifteen had been new territory for Slade, considering Grant's death at fourteen.

But that still didn't mean he had any knowledge on how to take care of a younger child. He barely remembered being a father recently – what on earth was he going to do now?!

"Slade, calm down, there's no need to worry. He's your son, after all," said Wintergreen, causing the group to look over at him. Little Dick happily wiggled in Slade's arm and waved at Wintergreen.

"Hiya, Poppy!" giggled the child.

It took all of Slade's self control not to snort into deep laughter. The reaction that name created from the old man was enough to change Slade's mind about the whole matter. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Wintergreen's bowled over expression was enough to make this moment worth it. Oh, yes, indeed.

Slade adjusted the child on his hip and looked over at the Titans.

"Very well, then. The lot of you better figure this out and figure it out quickly," said Slade, his firm tone announcing his extreme displeasure if they contemplated otherwise. "Fix my son."

The group of teen nodded their agreement. As they left, Starfire stayed behind briefly. She gave Slade a gentle smile before stepping closer to him. Dick's face lit up in a bright smile as Starfire lifted a hand to his face, stroking his cheek gently.

"Thankies for bring me home to Daddy, Starry," said little Dick, wiggling happily. Starfire's eyes glimmered with a delightful sparkle.

"Do not worry miniature Dick, we will return you back to normal."

The little head tilted to the side, bright blue eyes blinking.

"Aren't I normal now?"

The smile on Starfire's face grew bigger.

"Of course, little one." Then, she pulled away and smiled up at Slade. "Do not worry, Slade, we will return him to you. You may count on us."

Slade was temporarily overwhelmed by the strength inside this girl's eyes. He hadn't ever experienced such a look in a young woman before – not even his Adeline had such a strength in her eyes. There was no denying the fact that Adeline was strong and powerful in her own right; but this peace, this innate power from within was something she did not have. There was this undying confidence in the unknown, that against everything that dictated otherwise, there was still hope.

Slade wasn't sure what to make of it as he watched the girl give the pair of them a happy wave – which was just as enthusiastically returned by young Dick. Feeling slightly heartened by the girl somewhat, a new found courage flooded Slade's soul.

He had handled villains, assassins, crooked politicians, heroes in tights, a fifteen year old son – surely a little seven year boy was nothing in comparison to those.

Oh, how wrong Slade was.

In the four days that would follow, Slade would discover a few things about his son that was now pint size. The first thing was that no matter how childish or young Dick seemed, he truly was a smart, intelligent kid. The second thing Slade would discover was that this boy was far more sensitive than any human he'd known. It wasn't just a soft heart, but a sensory of others as if he knew what they were thinking or what they needed.

The third thing he would discover was the fact that there was an endless amount of love inside that little heart.

But, of course, it was only day one at the moment and Slade didn't know any of those discoveries. Instead, his mind was filled with thoughts on how he was supposed to keep this seven year boy entertained when his home wasn't equipped in dealing with one so young. Thus, he instantly sought out Wintergreen with his eye. The old man chuckled lightly as Slade looked at him.

"All right, Slade. I'll go to a store and see what I can pick up for Richard," said Wintergreen, amusement tugging at his aged lips. "He'll need some supplies if he's stuck like this for awhile."

The old man stood up from the dinner table. He gave Dick a pat on the head before taking a wallet out of a drawer. As Wintergreen walked to the kitchen door, Dick wiggled excitedly inside Slade's arms and called out to the old man.

"Poppy!"

The edges of Slade's lip twitched in amusement as the old man turned around to look at the small boy. Dick lifted his hands in the air happily.

"Would you get me some crayons and paper, please?" asked Dick, his little voice completely polite, yet the childlike happiness was forever throughout his tone. Wintergreen gave him a very gentle smile and nodded.

"Of course, Richard."

The owner of that name beamed brighter than the sun at noonday. He waved goodbye as the old man left the room. Thus, Slade was left with a seven year old – and once again, he had no idea how to entertain until Wintergreen's return. Especially when the young lad looked up at him with expectant eyes.

Well, that wasn't planned properly.

"Let's play, Daddy!" said Dick, wiggling happily in his arms. Mm, oh, yes. Keep the little munchkin away from all sugar. He had enough energy and then some pouring through those tiny veins of his.

"Play what?" asked Slade, his tone flat. The little boy shrugged his shoulders, his shirt slipping off slightly there.

"Dunno. Something fun!"

"Something… fun…" repeated Slade, thoroughly unsure what to do. He wasn't sure where Wintergreen put the board games – although he wasn't sure if Dick had the attention span for a board game – and he knew without a doubt there wasn't any literature in his library that would interest such a young child. For a moment, Slade felt like a deer in headlights.

"Yeah! Don't you know how to have fun, Daddy?"

Not with a seven year old child, no…

At the confused look that must've crossed Slade's face, the little boy giggled heartily.

"Okay, Daddy, I'll teach you, then." He wiggled in Slade's arms. "Lemme down!"

Slade complied with the request. Dick placed his small hands onto nonexistent hips, looking up at him. Slade was overcome with the knowledge that this child was tiny. He knew that Dick was small for his age at fifteen, but for the love of all that was holy, this child was a literal ankle biter.

"Let's draw!"

It was with that request – or rather command – that Slade from himself at the kitchen table with an energetic seven year old who just would not shut up. The dinner that had been waiting for teenager Dick's return was pushed to one end of the table, while the other half was covered in paper and pens. Dick was swinging his legs happily as he attacked the paper with a concentration that Slade thought impossible with such a young child.

The boy chattered aimlessly about anything that popped in his head. He spoke about nature, about magical stories, about everything and anything. Slade had to admit, the child was intelligent. He spoke with strong words. He did slur some of them at times, but it appeared as if he knew what he was talking about. The boy that would have a high school degree at fourteen years old was clearly showing at that moment – even through the childish drawings.

The boy was a genius.

He was still a child, one that was happy to be scribbling next to his father at the kitchen table, but there was no doubt that the boy had a brain. Sometimes Slade would've thought him younger, but he spoke with intelligence that counterbalanced his energetic and happy self.

"Look at what I drew, Daddy," said Dick, his eyes brightly glimmering happily as he held up his drawing. It was primitive, the scribbles of a child. But at the same time, Slade was impressed. The child had some skill showing up in his young drawing. The boy pointed to one of the people on the page who had a sword and shield.

"This is the hero." His finger moved along the page to point at a large creature that looked vaguely like a dragon to Slade. "He's gonna conquer the dragon!"

"Oh? And just how will he do that?" asked Slade, trying hard not to smile at the word 'conquer' from the lips of a seven year old.

"He's gonna convince it to be his friend and fight against the evil sorcerer, and everything!" said Dick, smiling happily.

"Very nice, Dick," said Slade, his control failing him as there was a twitching lift to his mouth. He was rewarded with a brighter beam of a smile before the child went back to his drawing.

Such a unique child. Interesting how Dick had chosen to have the hero befriend the dragon instead of slaying it.

An hour passed. Slade was impressed. The child stuck to the art for the entire time, his concentration never wavering – except for a brief time when his stomach grumbled; thus, requiring Slade to warm up the dinner than had been waiting.

Dick currently had a mouth full of mashed potatoes, swinging his thin legs with his pants bunched up at his thighs. His large shirt – apparently one of the changeling's clothing – was slipping down his shoulders, revealing the fact once more than Dick was a very young and small child. He grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled it back up, only to have it slide back down again.

With a light shrug on those slightly exposed, thin shoulders, Dick continued to eat his dinner, effectively avoiding anything that was green on his plate. Slade silently pointed to them with a raised eyebrow as the child ate. Dick pouted at him, but with that silent look set onto him, he let out a sigh that sounded far too old for him and proceeded to eat his vegetables.

Slade could only smirk at the child.

It wasn't long after that Wintergreen came back home, much to the child's delight. The old man seemed to have bought quite a few things for the child. Dinner was shoved to a countertop as the bags were collapsed onto the table. Dick's eyes were shining brightly as he looked up at Wintergreen.

"Whoa! Didja really get all this for me?" asked Dick, his young, high voice filled with awe.

"I most certainly did," said Wintergreen with a soft smile. "I bought you some clothes as well."

"Wow, thank you, Poppy! My clothes are too big right now."

There was a chuckle as Slade began to investigate some of the bags. Wintergreen pulled out a coloring book for Dick – who seemed over the moon about that. The old man hadn't bought much, it seemed, in the way of clothes. He bought just enough to get the child along for a short time. If this was a long time condition, then obviously other arrangements would have to be made for the child.

Slade continued to through the other bags, coming to one from a toy store. He looked inside this bag. Almost a second later, he shut the bag with an infuriated snap; glaring at Wintergreen as the fire of indignation flooded through his chest.

"No! No, you are not doing this to me. This is unacceptable. This is contraband!" shouted Slade in complete outrage, pointing at the bag with pure disgust and disdain.

The old man merely turned around, raising his eyebrow at him. His voice rang out with a knowing, innocent flare.

"I haven't any idea what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," hissed Slade.

Wintergreen snorted. Dick held still, blinking up at the two of them with interested eyes. His head glanced to each as they spoke.

"It's a toy, for heaven's sake, Slade."

"It's hereby illegal in my house."

"You can't ban toys."

"Watch me."

"Slade," began Wintergreen, giving him a stern look. "You can't deny the child simple toys. That's just not healthy for him."

"He can have all the toys in the world except this one!"

"You're being irrational."

"What'd ya get me, Poppy?" asked Dick, coming up to the old man and wrapping his arms around his legs. Those bright innocent eyes were too much to deny. No matter how much Slade wanted to literally kill what was inside that bag, he found he couldn't stop the old man from pulling out its contents into the open and into Dick's hands.

Slade closed his eyes in complete pain. It was more painful than he could ever imagine in his entire life. No, nothing could be this agonizingly painful as this moment.

"Batman!" cried Dick excitedly, nearly bouncing up and down; his baggy clothes flopping dangerously. He clasped the boxed action figure with intense excitement. His eyes danced happily as he looked up at Slade. "He's amazing! Do you like Batman, too, Daddy?"

Death sounds so inviting…

"Uh… I…"

Slade was blessedly saved – from having to either puke in his throat or disappointing this bright eyed child – by the old man. However, this was quite debatable when Slade realized how he had been saved.

"I also found something else that might interest you, Richard," said Wintergreen, a mischievous smile tugging at his aged lips. He pulled out another action figure. If Slade thought he was going homicidal over the first toy, he was going suicidal with the second.

"Whoa, isn't that Deathstroke?" asked Dick, taking the box of the second action figure into his hands. "So cool!"

Slade was truly overcome with the urge to both strangle the old man and bash his head against a wall. Both seemed quite satisfying actions at the moment, but both weren't conducive at all. Instead, he whirled on the old man with his best glare, snarling at him.

"What possessed you to buy those two exact toys for the boy?"

Wintergreen only gave Slade a serene, yet pleased look.

"I thought it would be highly amusing."

If Slade had heat vision, a number of articles – and perhaps one annoying old man – would have been melted into oblivion.

Somehow, the old man was escaping to get a cup of coffee, however.

But the desire was slightly tapered by the pure joy that had overcome little Dick. He simply looked beyond happy. In a matter of moments, he had already taken the action figures out of their boxes and was currently admiring them with reverence. However, after a few more moments, a serious look came upon the child's face as he looked up at Slade. It was downright adorable to see it on such a young face. His thin eyebrows were furrowed, his lips were pouted in a contemplative look, and a frown lifted his expression.

"Daddy?" said Dick finally, that serious expression still ever there. "I don't think I like the name Deathstroke."

Wintergreen choked on his coffee.

Slade blinked.

"He needs a new name," continued the child, innocently unaware of the reactions he was causing. "Oh! And I'm gonna make him a good guy, cause he's too cool to be a bad guy. He's gonna be called… The Orange Man! Since he's all orange and stuff."

One clean bullet to the head is all it would take… Unfortunately, I'd still come back.

The choking noises that were coming from Wintergreen's direction were suspiciously turning into small laughter. Then, it was no longer hidden. The old man was completely laughing heartily, his shoulders shaking where he stood at the countertop, his weight supported by his hands.

Somehow, Dick suddenly looked offended by this.

"What's so funny?" demanded Dick, his bright blue eyes glancing between the two men. Wintergreen could only continue his chuckling, his sounds of mirth becoming louder by the moment. "Hey!" the little boy cried indignantly, "I can make him a good guy if I want to!"

This only seemed to tickle the old man's funny bone even more. Slade hadn't seen him laugh this much in years. He would, too, but the irony of the whole situation was just too much for him. This was just some strange twist of karma laughing at him – and in the form of an old man that he couldn't even get back at.

"There's nothing wrong with making him a good guy!"

No matter how much little Dick protested the fact, the old man couldn't be calmed. He remained hunched over the countertop, his shoulders shaking, as he continued to snicker, chuckle, and laugh at the whole thing. Slade's eyebrow twitched. This was getting annoying. Finally, Dick turned to Slade, his bright blue eyes seeking for his approval.

"Daddy, can't I make him a good guy? I can, can't I? Why does Poppy think it's so funny?"

Slade ignored the current guffawing, completely taken in by those pleading, innocent eyes. There's was nothing more that he wanted to do at that moment than burn those two action figures, but the way that seven year old child was looking at him as if the very world depended on his answer was a bit disconcerting, to say in the very least.

"You may do whatever you wish with your toys, Dick," said Slade, his tone careful as he watched the little boy. "Will just thinks… that you're adorable."

"Oh…"

Dick's thin eyebrows furrowed slightly as he considered the whole thing seriously. Then, he once again obtained that indignant expression across his young features.

"How is wanting Deathstroke to be a good guy adorable?"

Well, Slade was shot at that moment. He, too, was gone from the world. There was no stopping his own chuckles. Of course, this only caused that dear seven year old to become even more up in arms over the whole thing. It was more than obvious that the little boy couldn't understand why these two men were snickering and chuckling over what he was saying.

Oh, the irony.

ooOOOOOoo

Author's Notes: Oh, the irony. OH, THE IRONY. I couldn't resist. I couldn't resist the 'Poppy' and I couldn't resist the 'contraband'. LOOOOOLOL, I laugh so hard at this. Especially when I got the idea – I just doubled over my countertop laughing just like Will did. Can you imagine this actually happening? It needs to. This is just too funny. XD *giggles*

Thanks for reading, folks! Continuation update will be on Friday! Until next week! Reviews = love and ideas! ^.^