Jason was busy muttering to himself and nudging things into piles with his feet when a voice spoke from the hallway.

"Need some help?"

He turned, frowning at the intrusion on his private griping. "What?"

"I said," Dick repeated as he leaned against the door frame and took in the mess, "do you want some help?"

"Really? Because I thought you said 'need'."

"Eh, slip of the tongue," the man shrugged. "But the question stands."

He stared at him for a long moment. "I don't 'need' your help," he answered slowly, "...but I do kind of want it."

"Alfred said he'd have Bruce pull you from patrol if your room wasn't clean, huh?"

"Yeah. Again." His eyes narrowed. "How'd you know?"

"You're not the only person in the world who's ever come under that threat," Dick chuckled. "To be fair, though, Jay, you should count yourself lucky. My room was never allowed to get this bad before I got in trouble." He bent down to pick up a crumpled piece of paper and then balanced it carefully atop the overflowing wastebasket. "Alfred's getting soft."

"It's not that bad."

"...There's a banana peel lying on top of one of your textbooks. Not exactly a fresh banana peel, either, from the look of it. That's pretty bad."

It was hard to argue with that, so Jason gave a frustrated hmph instead. "Well I'm sorry that I'm not a neat freak like you are," he challenged, crossing his arms.

"Whoa, hey, relax," the older male held up both hands in a gesture of peace. "I'm not judging you, I'm just pointing out that the adjective happens to fit in this case. Anyway...I'm willing to help, if you want. I've only got one night this weekend before I have to go back across the river, and it would stink if I didn't get to patrol with you just because your room is in...ah...subpar condition."

"'Subpar condition,'" he smirked. "It's funny, you know, the way you sound so much like them sometimes." For a moment he wondered if he ever did. Would his life here ever gloss over the street kid he'd once been and, in some ways, still was, or was it already too late for him to sound like a blue-blood? He wasn't sure, which was vexing enough by itself, but more disturbingly he wasn't sure which end he would prefer if he were to be given the choice.

"Really?" Dick drew his attention back to the conversation with a question. "Does 'I'll go get some garbage bags' sound like something they'd say?"

"No. They would expect me to do it myself."

"Well, you did make the mess, so I can't really blame them. But like I said, I've been in the same boat before. Besides," a gentle smile arched his lips, "Batboys have to stick together, right?"

Jason couldn't help but let his mouth bend to match Dick's. "...Yeah."

"Cool." The man's eyes suddenly sparkled with mirth. "Hey, Jay?"

"Huh?"

"...I'll go get some garbage bags."

"Okay," he laughed. "Um...thanks."

"You bet, little brother."

They stood together ten minutes later and tried to formulate a plan of action. "I think we need to take a Brazilian point of view on this job," Dick opined eventually.

"Yeah, bringing in some sand and girls in bikinis would definitely improve it."

"Ha! You're not wrong, but holy coronary, would Alfred flip or what?"

"He would, and it wouldn't get me back on patrol any faster, either."

"Nope. Plus, you might have a hard time getting girls in bikinis to come in once they see this place. Even with sand, it would still be bad. Anyway, when I said 'the Brazilian point of view' I was referring to their flag, not to their beaches. Ordem e progresso," he pronounced. "That's what we need in here."

"I don't speak Portuguese," he grimaced. He worked hard at the languages Bruce had set him to learn as part of his Robin duties, but he didn't have Dick's fluid tongue and ear for conjugations. Listening to him speak something other English now just served to throw into stark contrast once again the differences between them.

"Neither do I," the man, oblivious to his inner thoughts, replied unabashedly. "I just happen to know that ordem e progresso means order and progress. It's based off a quote from Auguste Comte, or so I've heard. Even if it isn't, what we need to do is to create order so that we can make progress. So, how about this; I'll go around and throw out anything that's obviously trash, and you focus on putting stuff that isn't trash away. If I find something I'm not sure about, I'll ask. Sound good?"

Jason squinted at him, considering the proposal. So far as he could remember there wasn't anything he was hiding that would be found during a routine cleaning, except... "Stay away from the bed," he ordered, "and that plan will work."

Dick's eyebrow rose. "Something you don't want me to know about going on in that area?"

"If there is, I'd have to be pretty stupid to tell you, wouldn't I?"

"Point taken. Besides, you're entitled to your privacy, so long as whatever you're hiding isn't going to hurt you or anyone else. I'll stay away from the bed."

"Okay. Good."

They began, Jason trailing behind his brother and putting away what he left behind. The silence between them was an amicable one, broken only when the occasional short conversation about one item or another was necessary.

"You want to keep this biology paper, Jay?"

"What grade did I get?"

"...Looks like a C."

"Chuck it."

"You're sure? You won't need it to study for finals or anything?"

He sighed. "...Yeah, okay, leave it there. I'll stick it in my science binder."

A minute later there was a low whistle. "Boy, did you get lucky."

He turned. "What?"

"This," Dick held up a thin book, "was hidden under a stack of scrap paper. I almost threw it out without realizing. Bruce would have been ticked."

"Oh." Jason colored slightly. "Yeah, he probably wouldn't have appreciated it if something he lent me got tossed. Then again, you're the one holding the garbage bag, so..."

"Hey!"

"I'm kidding! Jeez. Besides, he would have forgiven you."

"...He would have forgiven you, too, little brother," the man frowned. "He might not have been so gracious about it, but...he would have forgiven you."

"Yeah, well..." He trailed off, not entirely believing the assertion but unwilling to say as much and risk the words being true. "It doesn't matter anyway, because you found it."

"Right. And now I'm going to leave it," he paused to make sure that the teen was watching, "right here. Keep it safe, huh?"

"All right, all right. I wasn't trying to lose it before, it just...got buried."

Shortly after that it was an enthusiastic 'aw!' that caused him to look up. "What is it now?"

"This guy," Dick held up a stuffed tiger, "is cute."

Jason swallowed. The small animal had been with him for as long as he could remember, and had been one of the few things he had counted as his own upon his arrival at the manor. He knew it was odd for a fifteen-year-old to be so attached to a toy, but he couldn't let the thing go. Keeping it hidden was, he had thought, the best way to avoid ridicule. How did I forget that he was there? he fretted, his hands closing automatically into fists.

If it had had to be found by someone, though, he supposed that Dick was the least likely of anyone to think less of him for it. Hadn't the man just cooed when he'd unearthed it, after all? He relaxed at that idea and turned the angry snarl that had been about to exit his mouth into a tease. "I didn't know you were an eight-year-old girl."

"Heh. I've got a pretty good disguise, don't I? But seriously, he's cute." Dick handed the creature over with a smile. "And if anybody makes fun of you for keeping him, just tell them that your scary policeman brother still has his first stuffie, too. That should shut them up."

He blinked, shocked. "...Wait, you do?"

"Yup. I don't keep her on my pillow or anything, but I could never get rid of Ellie. She's my pal."

"Yeah..." He glanced down at the tiger, then moved to place him safely on a bookshelf until he could be re-hidden. "I guess I get that."

"Sure you do, Jay. And that's awesome."

What was really awesome, Jason decided twenty minutes later, was how fast his chore had gone once he'd had help. His room wasn't perfect – there was still a small pile of miscellany on his desk and a stack of clean clothes beside his closet – but it was a hundred times better than it had been. Dick vacuumed while he made the bed, and both were so involved in their respective tasks that neither heard the footsteps coming down the hall.

Just as the vacuum was switched off, the door opened. "Master Jason," Alfred's strict voice began, "I hope you've made some progress...oh, my..." Stepping inside, he stood for a moment with a stunned look on his face. "Well. You've certainly been working, I see. Master Dick," he raised an eyebrow, "I trust you didn't do it all for him?"

"Give the kid some credit, Alfie," came a good-natured reply. "We worked together. He'd have been here all weekend if he'd had to do it all by himself. Now everyone can be satisfied."

"Hmm...Master Jason?"

"Yeah?"

"If I open your closet or your dresser, will I find a jumble of items that have been shoved out of sight instead of put away properly?"

"Check, if you want," he grumbled.

Alfred did exactly that, his eyebrow rising higher with each door and drawer. "...That all checks out just fine. I must say, young sirs, that I'm rather impressed. That was very quick, and the situation in here is much improved."

"So can I go out on patrol?"

"Would you care to ask politely? Cleaning your room does not give you leave to let your attitude get out of shape."

He sighed. "...May I please go out on patrol tonight, Alfred?"

"Thank you. To answer your question, I am not aware of any reason why you should not be allowed to do so. Especially," his mouth twitched upward, "since your brother will no doubt lend you the same level of aid in that task as he seems to have done in this one." With that he headed for the hall. "...Dinner in twenty minutes, if you please, sirs," he reversed in the doorway to remind them. "You'll want to wash up thoroughly beforehand, considering what you've just been doing." Then he departed, sending them a tiny smile on his way out.

"Excellent!" Dick exclaimed when they were alone. "Now tonight will be awesome."

"You say that like it wouldn't have been if he'd grounded me. Which I know isn't true," Jason went on before a protest could be lodged, "because patrol is...well...it's almost always awesome, so long as you don't piss Batman off."

"Sure," the man nodded. "It still would have been awesome. But it wouldn't have been nearly as awesome. That's what I was trying to say."

He took in his earnest expression from the corner of his eye. "...Really?"

"Absolutely, little brother," Dick grinned. A beat passed before he spoke again. "I'm going to go put this away," he patted the machine he'd been leaning against, "and take a quick shower. Unless you need me for something else?"

There was that word again; 'need.' For some reason, though, its use now didn't irk Jason the way it had earlier. "Um...no," he shook his head. "I'm good."

"Cool."

"Wait, Dick?"

"What's up?"

"Ah...that quote from earlier..."

"...'Quote from earlier'? What quote?"

"The one you said the whole order and progress thing was from."

"Oh, yeah! Sure. What about it?"

"Do...do you know the whole thing?" Jason wasn't entirely sure why he was curious about something a dead guy had said, but he asked anyway. 'Order and progress' had worked wonders on his room, after all, so maybe it would be worth remembering for some other time.

"...Gosh, let me think. It's..." He closed his eyes tightly, thinking. "It's his motto of positivism...ack, I know this...'love as a principle,'" he began, "'and order as the basis'...what's the last part? Progress...'progress as the goal!' That's it. Sorry, I hadn't thought about it in a while."

"It's okay." Love as a principle and order as the basis; progress as the goal, he repeated to himself. "That's a very...you...thing. That quote."

Dick laughed. "It kind of is, right? Anyway...I'll see you in a few, Jay. Make sure you wash up, or Alfred will have another hissy."

"Yeah, yeah," he rolled his eyes. "I know." The door shut, leaving him by himself, and he flopped back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. "Order and progress..." The love bit was kind of sappy, but he could get behind the rest of the idea. Then again, he reflected, maybe it was love that had caused his brother to come in and propose order and progress to begin with. If that was the case, then... "Crap. It's sappy, but it's not necessarily wrong."

Sitting up again, he stared around his now-clean personal space. Today, he realized, had marked not only the fastest he'd ever straightened his room but also the most fun he'd had doing it. It still hadn't been a barrel of laughs, yet it hadn't been its usual drudgery, either. In another few weeks he'd have to do it all again, but at least now he knew the secret to making it less miserable.

If Dick was around next time, he mused as he swung his legs off of the bed and headed for the bathroom to wash up, maybe he would ask for help instead of waiting for it to come to him.