Warning: This story is so sweet, fluffily so that you risk a cavity reading this. Why don't we have fluff for a genre?

"What is this?" Damian asked, a frown creasing his brow as he stared down at the red and yellow wrapped box in his hands.

"A present," Dick answered simply, a soft smile etched on his lips.

"What for?" Damian's frown deepened.

"It's your birthday, silly!" Dick chuckled and ruffled Damian's hair fondly before his hand was swatted away.

"I don't need it."

"No, you don't," Dick agreed easily, though his smile never wavered.

"Then why—"

"But you want it." Dick's tone was calm, matter-of-fact.

"I don't." Damian shoved the box roughly towards Dick. "I don't even know what it is."

Dick rolled his eyes. "If you want to know, why don't you just, I don't know, open it?" he suggested sarcastically.

Damian obliged, though his scowl never faded. Dick beamed as he watched his little brother tear through the flimsy paper.

"Oh," was all Damian could say.

It was a watch. The one he had fallen in love with the first time he saw it, shopping with Dick a few days ago.

"I saw you looking at it the other day," Dick said softly by way of explanation. He was looking at Damian expectantly, eager for a response.

"You didn't have to… buy it for me," Damian said, just as softly, looking at anything but Dick's face. He suppressed the urge to fidget. "I could have bought it myself. And I'm not in need of a new watch. Mine is still working perfectly." He was rambling and he knew it, but he didn't know what else to do. For all of his training, he did not know how to accept a birthday present that he wanted, but did not need, graciously.

Dick's hand on his shoulder put a stop to his rambling. "I know," he said, his voice filled with understanding. "But I wanted to."

Damian finally dared to look up. "Why?"

Dick knelt down so he could be on the same eye level with his youngest brother. "Because it's your birthday and I wanted to get something special for you."

"Why?" Damian asked again, the sharp gleam of stubbornness in his steely blue eyes.

"Because you're my baby brother and I love you."

"You're not my brother," Damian replied, though Dick noted that his voice lacked the usual vehemence. If anything, it was tinged with longing.

"Not by blood, yes," Dick agreed before flicking Damian's forehead good-naturedly. "But there's this wonderful thing called adoption that can make people who are not related by blood a family." Although he'd used his best lecture voice his blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

Damian scowled, shoving the older man in annoyance. Dick let go of his impeccable balance to fall on his hide, laughing all the way down. "I know what adoption is!" Damian cried out, eyes blazing as he glared at his guardian.

"Glad to hear it." Dick grinned before fluidly rising to his feet.

"Grayson," Damian started after a moment of hesitation. "I'm sorry if I…" he trailed off, unable to voice the insecure thoughts clogging his mind. I'm sorry if I'm a bother.

"Wrong words, Little D," Dick said in a sing-song voice. "There are three magic words, and though 'sorry' is certainly one of them, it is the wrong one for this occasion." He emphasized his mock-serious chiding by placing his hands on his hips.

Damian frowned. It was hard to say he was sorry without Dick's confusing nonsense about magic words.

"Try again," Dick said firmly, his face stern though not unkind.

"I'm so—"

"Nuh uh."

Damian's frown deepened. He remembered vaguely Dick explaining these so-called magic words early in his career as Robin. The first was 'please.' Then there was 'sorry' and last but not least…

"Thank you…?" It was more a question than a statement, but it seemed Dick deemed it adequate as his face lit up.

"You're welcome."

End.

A/N: I'm alive! (Always wanted to say that for some reasons) Yeah, sorry if this is short. Well, that is why I post two stories at once. Because they both are short. Hopefully I can post something more often now but I promise nothing. I have a job now. An editor/translator in a magazine, if you are wondering. So since my job is to write something, sometimes I just get fed up with writing so... Yeah.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I got the pic from Google. Lol. I wish I were patient enough to draw the cover of my story. But well...

Thanks to: As always, my super wonderful beta, BookJunkie, the mother of my babies. (My babies being my fics). Her input is what makes my stories as good as they are. Every review that I get, every fave and follow is hers as much as mine.

And of course, thanks you for all of you who have faved/followed my stories/myself. And many thanks to you, reviewers. I don't live to get reviews though I do love them. I squeal with delight when someone tells me that my story can make them laugh/smile.

Okay, shutting up now. It won't do to have notes longer than the fic itself.

Bliss out.