I changed things up a little bit. Damian became Robin BEFORE Bruce's supposed death, but still at Dick's prompting.
Warning: Language and Suggestive Innuendo . . .
"Would you quit fussing? I'm perfectly fine now," Elle huffed. She was tucked up into bed, and now Dick was shoving a cup of hot tea at her. "I don't want tea," she complained.
"It's not tea," he told her. "It's hot chocolate."
Elle paused, eyeing the mug. "Hot chocolate?"
His mouth quirked. He knew he had her now. "I couldn't find the marshmallow cream, so I used those tiny marshmallows instead."
Elle was reaching for it almost before he stopped talking. "Tiny marshmallows? I love tiny marshmallows," she told him; a small smile quirking up one side of her mouth.
The smile turned into a frown as she looked down into the mug. "There's only, like . . . five marshmallows in here! I can still see the hot chocolate. What? Am I so poor all of a sudden that I can't afford a new bag of tiny marshmallows? Did the tiny marshmallow factory go out of business so that I have to be portioned out only five tiny marshmallows a mug over the next decade or something?"
Dick asked her seriously. "Elle, would you like a few more tiny marshmallows?"
She smiled and shoved the mug back at him. He pushed it back to her. "You start on it. I'll bring you some more marshmallows," he told her; grinning openly now.
"Bring the bag," she called after him as he headed to the kitchen.
Now that she realized how stingy he was with the marshmallows, she wanted to supervise the marshmallow addition herself. She took a sip, reveling in the flood of warmth throughout her system. It was good, so she took another sip and glanced into the mug with a satisfied expression. There was room now for lots and lots of tiny marshmallows, she thought smugly.
Dick walked back in with the bag. She frowned and shook her head when he started to shove his hand into the bag. Dick paused a moment and then tipped the bag up so that the little marshmallows slid directly into her mug. Neither spoke as the marshmallows began filling the top of the cup. Dick's eyebrows rose and he glanced at Elle, but she was sighing happily at the flood of marshmallows. When it reached the top of the mug, one marshmallow rolled off of the pile and onto her blanket-covered lap, Elle called a halt.
"You can have that one," she pronounced, indicating the marshmallow on the bed.
Dick laughed as he twisted the plastic bag shut and set it on the bedside table. Elle looked pleased. He was learning.
He picked up the one tiny marshmallow and held it between his finger and thumb. "Are you sure you wouldn't like this one, too?"
Elle bit her lip as she eyed the confection with obvious yearning. "Oh," she said, regretfully. "I couldn't take yours."
Dick laughed again. After this night, he hadn't expected to find laughter again for a while. He had totally expected Elle to be angry with him once she was warm and with it. She wasn't exactly singing his praises, but how mad could she be if she could tease him like this.
"I'm willing to share," he told her. "But you have to meet me halfway."
Intrigued, Elle took a sip of her hot chocolate before setting the mug down on the bedside table. "Oookay," she agreed hesitantly.
Dick put the little marshmallow between his lips and waited. Elle's eyes sparkled with good humor and more than a little interest. When she leaned forward. Dick scooted backward a few inches on the bed.
Elle paused to contemplate him before pushing the covers down a bit and leaning further towards him. Dick scooted backwards a little more. Grinning now, Elle crawled out of the covers and stalked him. Dick moved back a little more, and Elle leapt forward in an effort to tackle him, but he was near the foot of the bed now and he fell off onto the floor with a yelp and a thump. Elle grinned down at him from where she lay sprawled across the top.
"Do I still get the marshmallow?"
Dick crooked his finger at her.
Elle slithered off of the bed. She wore an extra-large t-shirt and not much else. Hardly the look of a femme fatale, but it more than worked for her. She crawled over Dick supine form, and halted; straddling him on all fours. She pursed her lips as she pondered his Nightwing uniform that he still wore.
"So, how does this thing work," she asked. Her long, dark-brown hair landed in his face as Elle bent her head to look down his Nightwing costumed-covered body underneath her. "This thing doesn't leave a whole lot to the imagination," she remarked. "It doesn't exactly disguise the fact that you are . . . um, happy to be here." She smirked down at him within the tunnel of her hair.
Dick laughed and dragged her hips down so that she was sitting astride him. "Of course," he murmured around the marshmallow. "I'm always happy to be wherever you are."
"I can tell," she told him. "Now, give me that marshmallow. I've earned it!"
She leaned down on top of him and took her time retrieving her sweet reward from him as he educated her thoroughly on the secret ins and outs of his costume.
Later, as they snuggled, tucked back into Elle's bed, she played with Dick's mask.
"You'd do better to have a cowl like Bruce's," she murmured. "But I like this. It's damned sexy."
He didn't even bother pretending that Bruce wasn't Batman. Elle wasn't stupid. Hell, the first time she had met him as Nightwing after dating him as Dick Grayson she had figured it out within minutes.
"Hm, next time I'll wear the mask and nothing else," he growled against her neck. Elle squealed, but arched her neck to give him better access.
Elle giggled. "I can't believe I showed up at Bruce's house with a Nightwing costume for the party. Oh my God! And I forced that horrible Batman atrocity on you . . ." Her giggles disintegrated into full blown laughter now. "Oh no, what must Bruce have thought?"
Dick laughed with her as he leaned back on the pillow. "I've never heard him laugh like that," he said; his grin turning thoughtful. "No, not ever. Elle," he turned onto his side to face her. "You've given me, and Bruce," Dick suddenly remembered Damian dancing in the music room, "Damian . . . All of us! You've given all of us the greatest gift I think we've ever received."
Elle turned on her side to face him, also. "Really? And what gift is that?"
A look of wonder crossed his face as he gazed into her eyes. "Happiness."
"Happiness?" Puzzled, she stared at him. "How can you say that? You act as though none of you were ever happy before."
Dick smiled and touched his finger playfully to the tip of her nose. "Oh, we've all been happy before, but not like this . . ." he assured her. "Not for a very, very long time."
He could tell she didn't believe him.
"It's true, Elle! I've heard Bruce laugh before, but it was always like a chuckle; never a full-bodied laugh like he did on Halloween. He laughed until he couldn't breathe and he had tears sliding down his face! Elle, I've never been able to get him to relax enough to laugh so openly, and Lord knows that I've tried." Dick told her. "No, it took you to do it."
"Dick, I wasn't even in the room!"
"It doesn't matter. You were behind it all," Dick declared confidently.
Elle narrowed her eyes and pursed her beautiful mouth. "What you mean is that I got that ridiculous costume for you and your family went hysterical making fun of you."
"All for a good cause," he assured her. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat to hear Bruce laugh like that some more . . . And Damian! Even Damian was snickering after he threatened to kill me if I wore it outside! And you had him dancing and smiling . . ."
Dick suddenly rolled over on top of her; holding himself above her on one elbow while he cupped her face with the other hand. "If I hadn't been head over heels in love with you already . . . I could fall in love with you all over again just for what you've done for my family," he declared.
"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me," he whispered against her lips.
She kissed him back with utter abandon, knowing all the while that he was full of it. She wasn't the best thing that ever happened to him; he was the best thing that ever happened to her!
The sun was peeking through the blinds when Elle opened her eyes next. She stretched her arms over her head and glanced at the space beside her. Dick Grayson was a bed hog! It didn't seem to matter where she settled in the bed, he would quickly scooch closer until he was cuddling her like a teddy bear.
She slid as carefully out from under his heavy arm as she could to avoid waking him until she lightly thumped onto the floor. Elle slapped a hand over her mouth to contain a squeal! It was freaking cold! Especially on bare skin . . .
She gained her feet and raced to the closet. Her hand hovered over the terrycloth robe that would provide her the most warmth as she eyed the sexy, short, silk robe next to it. The silk wouldn't provide near the same level of warmth . . . In fact, it would almost guarantee that she would be naked again in short order once Dick got a glimpse of it.
She shivered.
Decided, Elle grabbed the terrycloth robe. She could turn up the heat and if Dick didn't wake up before it got toasty warm in the apartment, she could always change. She shoved her feet into her Fozzy Bear Muppet slippers and padded her way to the kitchen, taking what was left of her mug of hot chocolate and sticky mini-marshmallows with her.
Sighing regretfully as she poured the wasted drink out, she put on a pot of water to boil. Mornings were for tea . . .
It was time to talk.
She carried a tray with the tea on it back to her bedroom. She grinned as she reached the threshold at the spectacle before her. Dick was stretched catty-cornered from one end of the bed to the other. One bare foot hung off the end nearest her, and his head, shoulders and one bare arm peeked out of her pink and lilac flowered comforter on the other end. Despite the total femininity of her bed linens, or maybe because of it, Dick seemed to radiate masculinity.
The sides and back of his hair was short, as per regulation for the Bludhaven Police Department, but the top was longer and hung over his forehead; almost, but not quite in his eyes. The pastels of the comforter made his skin seem even duskier. She bit her lip at the attractive picture he presented as the butterflies in her belly began swarming.
Would it always be like this?
She shook off her bemusement and marched forward. It was time to talk.
She sat cross-legged opposite from him on the bed. Dick took a sip of the tea. He was waiting for this . . . The Talk. He was glad she had chosen to wait until morning for it. Emotions and adrenaline would have likely not ended things well. As it was, they were both warm, relaxed, and mellow.
"How long have you been Nightwing," she asked without preliminaries. "I had only heard about you in passing on the news."
"Approximately six years," he answered lightly.
She looked startled. "You were eighteen? What made you decide to fight crime? Was it because of Bruce?"
Dick sighed. "Partly. But the idea was mine. I would have done it with or without Bruce's support . . . Which was one of the reasons he chose to support me." He shrugged. "I was less likely to end up dead, that way."
"Did you always know that Bruce was . . . Batman?" Elle whispered the last part, making Dick chuckle.
"I knew within six weeks or so of moving into the manor."
Elle blinked. "But didn't you move into the manor after your parents died?"
Dick nodded. "It was a few months before my ninth birthday."
"How was that," she asked. "Oh, I mean, growing up with Batman for a father."
"I'm not sure I have anything to compare it to," Dick answered.
"But didn't it interfere with other things? Like after school events and the like?"
Dick tilted his head as he considered her. "I didn't do a lot of after school events," he said, evenly. "Elle, I was fighting crime even before I was Nightwing. You realize that, right?" At her look of confusion, he clarified. "I was Robin before I became Nightwing."
"Robin? But I met Robin!"
Dick grinned. "You met Damian's Robin," he told her. "Robin's been around a lot longer than Damian, though."
Elle set her cup down. "I don't understand."
"I was the first Robin," he said.
"The first . . . Robin," she repeated slowly. "Exactly how many Robins have there been?"
"A few. How did you not know this?"
"Pfft," Elle threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. Dick was going on the assumption that she knew something of Gotham City's history. "How would I know this? I'm from Chicago! I only heard about Batman in relation to the news reports about the Justice League. I didn't even know what city he was based out of until after moving to Bludhaven!"
She sighed. "So, you were the first Robin. When did that happen?"
Dick chuckled, looking a little chagrined. "Oh, um, around nine."
Elle blinked. "Nine . . . what?"
"Nine years old." He smiled hesitantly, as if he were expecting some kind of reaction.
Elle's mouth dropped open. "Nine years . . ." Then she smiled. "You mean, you started training at nine."
Dick cleared his throat. "Actually, I was still eight when I began training. I went out into the field with Batman a few months after I turned nine."
Her eyes widened. "Th-that's preposterous! Who in the right mind would take a nine year old out to fight crime?"
Dick didn't say anything.
Elle stared at him for several long minutes.
He was expecting a reaction; he got it.
Elle scrambled off of the bed and shot off into the living room.
Startled, Dick ran after her. He hadn't been sure what to expect, but running from him wasn't it. He entered the living room off of the short hallway to discover Elle fumbling around for her phone. She had grabbed at it so hard and fast, it had went skittering across the hardwood floor. She lunged for it, but Dick grabbed her around the waist before she could make contact with the floor.
"Elle, wait! Stop! What are you doing?"
"I'm going to call him up and give him a piece of my mind, that's what I'm going to do," she yelped.
"Who? Who are you going to call up?" Dick had to struggle to hang onto her.
"Bruce," she hollered. "How dare he put you in the field at such a young age? What was that man thinking?"
She froze suddenly. Dick nearly dropped her as she caught him off guard.
"Damian is Robin? How long has he been Robin?" She squirmed around until she was facing him.
"Actually, Damian being Robin was my idea . . ." He began. His voice tapered off at the look in her eye.
"You're crazy," she yelled at him. "You are all crazy! Bruce made you crazy! Where's that phone?! I'm going to let him have it!"
She started struggling against him again. Dick lifted Elle off of her feet and one of her heels promptly connected with his shin.
"Ow!" He yelped. "Elle, cut it out! Calm down and let's talk this out."
She struggled a bit more, but as she was no closer to escaping him than she had been earlier, Elle settled down slowly. She huffed as she glared at him.
"You were just a child! You've had no childhood!"
Dick gave her a small smile. "Elle, I haven't been a child since my parents died. Their death wasn't an accident, sweetheart. They were murdered and I was a witness. I never gave Bruce a choice when it came to the creation of Robin," he said, a little sadly. "I wanted justice and would have went searching for it alone, if he had not helped me. I very likely would have only found my own death had it not been for Bruce. As it was, Batman and Robin caught the man responsible for my parents' death." He sighed. "I've been doing this ever since."
Her eyes grew damp. "B-but Damian . . ."
"Damian's mother is the head of a terrorist organization called the League of Shadows. He's not defenseless, and his childhood was even shorter than mine or Bruce's."
"You trained him?" Elle's voice was small.
He felt the tension draining from Elle's form. He loosened his hold a bit, but kept his arms around her. "Bruce trained him. I helped. It was his mother, however, that had turned him into an assassin before we even knew he existed."
"A . . . A-an assassin?"
"Um . . . Yeah, we're still working on that bit," he admitted. He sighed. "Are you regretting going out for coffee with me now?"
Elle had an odd, dazed look on her face when she finally deigned to answer his question. "Can I think about that for a little bit before answering that question," she said, weakly.
Dick gulped, and released her. She wandered back into the bedroom as he slumped onto the sofa. He just hoped her silence wouldn't last as long as last time.
REACTIONS? OPINIONS? COMMENTS?
You have to know what Elle is thinking right now . . . Bruce has got the worst taste in women! ;D