Next chapter! Kinda fluff, but with a bunch if Scarlet/ Bruce interraction here. Please review!

"Your room is right next to Dick's..." Bruce opened the door, waiting for her reaction. He'd had to do a lot of googling, but he'd finally ordered everything he thought she'd like.

The room was painted bright pink, with a four-poster bed that had a pink canopy. There was a little makeup desk, with a mirror and drawers filled with little trinkets and makeup.

He had a play kitchen in one corner, as well, and a toybox filled to overflowing with stuffed animals and baby-alive dolls.

Scarlet stared, eyes widened. "I... wow. Thank you, Mr. Wayne." she managed to get out quietly. She really didn't like pink, and the room was... well, almost entirely pink. But her mother had taught her to always say thank you regardless of the gift...

Bruce beamed, reaching down to ruffle her hair. "I'm glad you like it, Scarlet. I'll leave you to get settled. Call me if you need anything, alright?"

She nodded, still looking, around, eyes wide. How could things even GET this pink? Luckily, Bruce mistook her expression of shock for one of wonderment and smiled soightly, leaving her alone, proud of himself. Maybe raising a little girl wouldn't be that hard at all.

Scarlet stared, blinking. The pink pratically burned through her eyelids, but focusing on it wouldn't make it go away. She sighed. She'd live with it, she figured. Mr. Wayne had tried really hard to make the room something she wouod like, and she appreciated that.

She sighed, walking over to the bed and clawing her way up onto the pink comforter, struggling with the weight of her back pack. She still made it up, quietly taking off her backpack and opening it, looking around inside.

She had a few outfits- Dick had told her to pack the things that meant the most to her, so she'd only packed the trinkets they'd oicked up from around the world. Dick had noticed she'd failed to pack any clothing and had grabbed a few clothes last minute to stuff in.

There were pictures- John Grayson had loved pictures. He'd gotten an old poloroid, and she'd gotten all the photos she could. Pictures of her and Dick in Russia. She didn't remember much if it- she'd only been three or four at the time. It was a picture of them in the snow, smiling next to the snowman...

Her eyes stung skightly, knowing her father woukd never use that poloroid again, and that her mother would never again laugh at the funny faces he insisted they make...

"Scarlet?" she looked up from the picture to see Dick in the doorway, walking in to see her. He looked slightly anxious. "Did you thank Mr. Wayne for the room?"

" 'Course I did, Dickie." she saidm looking confused. She lowered her voice quietly. "But it's REALLY pink." she whispered.

"I know. But he's done a lot for us, Scarlet..."

"I know, Dickie. Is he nice?" Bruceseemed nice, But Dick had been living here longer than her.

Dick nodded. "He's nice. He isn't around much, though. But when he is, he's nice."

Scarlet looked around the room again, looking uncertain. "It's so... big."

Dick grinned. "Wait until you see the dining room. And the halls... This place is great. And there's a man who worlds here- Alfred- he's nice, too."

"Really?" Scarlet asked, eyes bright with excitement. The orphanage had been awful- the lady was always yelling and the okder girls were always pulling hair and stealing things.

Just then, a bell rang.

Dick grinned. "Dinner bell! C'mon, you won't believe how big this place is!"

He grabbed her by the arm, running down the hall towards the spiral staircase. He didn't slow his pace, and Scarlet was nearly yanked off her feet several times, but she didn't mind. At the speed they were going, her feet barely touched the ground- ir was almost like flying.

Both children flew into the dining room, bright-eyed and bushy tailed...

"Wow." Scarlet just stared. It was like a fairy tail- a long table covered in a white cloth with candles and beautiful oak chairs...

Alfred smiled at the amazement on Scarlet's face.

"Hello, Master Dick, Mistress Scarlet. Welcome to dinner." he said.

Scarlet studied him, looking confused. "What's a mistress?" she asked, not understanding why he'd called her that.

Dick shrugged. "He's a fancy guy, Scarlet."

Scarlet still looked confused. "How come you're a Master and I'm a Mistress?". It was clear the five year old wasn't understanding. Suddenly she looked up at Alfred. "Can I be a Master, too?"

Alfred looked surprised. "I- of course, Master Scarlet. May I ask why, though?"

Scarlet shrugged. "Because Dick is one." she said, still feeling the need to copy her brother as she sat down to dinner.

They ate dinner quietly, and Bruce didn't join them.

Dick led her into the living room, turning the TV on. They sat and watched until it was time for bed, before it grew late.

Scarlet yawned, noticing the heavy oak door to a room shut. She quietly slipped off the couch, padding across the carpet and quietly reaching for the knob. The heavy door swung open, revealing Bruce sitting at a large, dark-wood desk.

He looked up, surprised, before noticing Scarlet standing in the doorway in bunny footsie pajamas. He smiled at the cute sight, standing.

"What can I do for you, Scarlet?"

She blinked sleepily at him- it was clear she was ready for bed. "A-are you gonna tuck us in?" she asked quietly.

Dick had noticed what she was doing, then, and quietly came over, taking Scarlet's hand. "Bruce is busy, Scarlet- I'll tuck you in." he said simply.

"No, it's alright, Dick. I don't mind." Bruce said calmly. Dick looked hesitant but nodded, leading Scarlet upstairs. Bruce had never tucked him in since he'd been here, and he wasn't sure what to expect.

Bruce straightened some papers on his desk- he'd been going through the paper trail left by Tony Zucco. But that could wait.

He headed upstairs, digging back in his mind. He remembered his mother tucking him in, all those years ago...

He peered into Scarlet's room, seeing the five year old sitting cross-legged onto her bed, head drooping forward, struggling to keep her eyes open. It was incredibly adorable.

"Ready for bed?" He asked quietly, walking in.

Scarlet nodded, fumbling to crawl under the covers. Bruce helped her, pulling the covers up to her neck and tucking them in just below her chin. A lock of raven hair fell into her face, and he quietly brushed it away.

Her eyes were already closed, her face looking so innocent...

"Goodnight, Scarlet."

" 'Night, Tati..." she mumbled, almost inaudibly.

Bruce just stared. She'd called him her father... He felt like a theif, then. He wasn't her father, he would never be John Grayson. And he knew that. But at the same time, it struck a chord within him. She was HIS now, he had to look out for her and take care of her, do his best to raise her as well as Dick.

Scarlet didn't know what she was saying, of course, she was pratically asleep... He wasn't her father. But he'd do his best to be whatever it was that these children needed.

Please review!