Title: US

Author: Moonsetta

Beta-Reader: ChibiFoxAI (I have a beta-reader! Yay! Hug!)

Date: Sunday, December 21, 2014

Summary: IT before and beyond IF they had had actual legit feelings for each other.

Warnings:Love story written by a romance-critic author, M/M, some story points are from the original comic printings-not the modern ones while others are more modern (nothing's New52) printings, full of lovey-dovey mush, unreliable author struggles to get into the mindset of Bruce Wayne or Batman and still feels like she's rushing things.

A/N: OK, here's the update!

RL NEWS: (If you want to hear it.) Near the end of November my parents and I were on our way back from work-We have a sub-cleaning contract for a restaurant that has us working at night-So we were on our way home at around 2:00am and had just reached a bridge when the headlights of the car behind us suddenly vanished and-

Bump. THUMP. CRUNCH!

Yeah, what I mostly remember is the sound of the hits and the jerk from my seat belt as my body attempted to keep going 35mph as plastic, steel and glass shook, bent and shattered. My first car accident was not a pleasant one. Though, I guess there really isn't a pleasant one you can be in but that's beside the point. To make it quick: Yes. I'm hurt. My family is too. So, my injuries have deterred my writing as of late but we're all alive and in no danger of dying. Not to mention with all the doctors, the lawyers, the insurance representatives, the paperwork, etc… and all of these things happening in December -is just not a good combo. I've rarely actually been home lately.

But sob stories aside-I'm a lot better now than I was and my spine and neck should be good as new in a few more weeks of realignments! I get a complimentary massage next week so that's good…I guess?

Well enough of this. Time for the late-update!

P.S. Happy Holidays! Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Have a Great Kwanzaa!

Or if you're like me-Happy Winter Solstice! Tine to feast, dance and present totems for the spirits.

It started on June 20th.

Bruce knew how it had started because he was logical. In fact, it actually made a lot of sense when he thought over it. When it came to his first protégé it was…so simple that it was complicated. His mind admittedly was NOT on the reports he was flipping through quite quickly. He reprimanded himself for that and slowed down, pausing enough to make it appear that he was looking over them with intended purpose. Distantly he heard his family calling out a good night including…

He gulped and pushed away the tablet he had been using.

Admittedly his head was still rolling from the news the day before as well as what had just happened with Nightwing. Perhaps the effect could have been a sign of stress from a more 'average' man-but he was Batman!

-And everything going on was just trouble.

This THING-didn't need to stack itself on top of everything he already had to deal with!

Having to carefully navigate the treaty paperwork from the Beta-6 sector for the JLA was taking enough of his time. Not that the politically filled papers from his own American government weren't full of ridiculous twists and turns but double the paperwork did NOT help.

…and Dick Grayson wasn't helping either!

Bruce mentally slapped himself for thinking so. His family and allies had been very efficient lately. They knew something big was going on with the League and his public life and when they all learned about Mrs. Fields…well-he still wasn't ready for the response to that. It was still varied on how Gotham would respond. Either way, every member of his team had been busy with little but crime fighting as of late. He had no reason to complain given that even the quaintest crime-stopping efficiency rating was up by 14%.

The billionaire reached for his tablet again, tapping the corner of the screen to close the documents before he was scrolling among the pages of data files. It took little time to find it.

-A small .mp3 file that was barely large enough to affect the memory of an ordinary citizen's wristwatch.

He opened the file and listened to the announcement for the 13th time.

"I'm happy to bring my methods to Gotham City Mr. Mayor. Criminals have plagued this city for far too long. Too many of them deserved the hanging rope years ago, if not decades. I'll have Project Penalty ready for application by December 14th. Now are you-"

He closed the file and set the tablet down. The message had ended with a thump that he assumed to be either a quickly closed door or a heavy piece of furniture between his planted bug and the conversation. It wasn't a problem-he could plant more or send one of his teammates to do so tomorrow.

Bruce allowed himself to lean back and think well-remember. Ever since a rotten deal on the Gotham Docks had led to a scrape between the Babylon and Enigma gangs one event had just followed another. A single member of the Babylon had had ties to the Black Market. Normally it wasn't something Batman would have perused personally. Cases like those he tended to leave be if they weren't causing much harm. He didn't exactly prioritize a black clad teenager getting their hands on the new Disney title prerelease as more important than say-a factory in New York covering up an ARM group poisoning aspirin at local convenience stores that was causing numerous deaths among the population. The trail had been thin-but he was used to that. The Babylon in question was a 33 year old illegal alien with a relatively unknown past pre-immigration into the USA. What Bruce had gotten Oracle to uncover was a long stream of very bad decisions that had made him desperate but wanted by a few bad bosses in the underground. One of which was a 28 year old business man named Millis Tumner. Who himself was a public businessman from surprisingly, Greenland.

What Batman had missed in all that though and he was still kind of punching himself for-was that he had tracked the Black Market Boss to New York. He hadn't bothered to tell anyone. Trails that lead to big black market CEO's tended to dry up or are covered up fast. While he had had Oracle's help with the Babylon he hadn't mentioned that he would be tracking Tumner. So when he had found his way to the basement of the Balan Factory of New York City he was shocked to already find two black coated agents cuffing the ARM men together. A single female was stringing them together with extra chains while the male was talking to a very scrunched up faced Nightwing.

New York. Stupid!

Of course it would have to be his partner, not one of the dozens of free lancers in New York City, not a different member of the Outsiders, not one of the Justice Society- who Bruce was beginning to suspect wanted to officially get the 'Nightwing was part of our group' badge. Maybe he would have just turned and left it alone but his vantage point allowed him to pick up the conversation between his protégé and the agents.

Now they hadn't been on the wrong trail-they were right on it actually. The acrobat was picking out the clues to the Black Market tie-in from the papers that were spread out on a nearby table beside him and the male agent who was also simultaneously scrutinizing the chemical tube containing one of the poisons that had been injected into the aspirin. It wasn't their faults that they were behind because they didn't have the information he did to the Babylon gang. Truthfully, he could have done it better than delivering the info to the agents' car via Batarang. He COULD have dropped in, brought the information he had to his partner and they could have put it together well-together. It wasn't until he was the receiving end of a rooftop glare and sneer that Bruce realized that he probably should have done that instead.

Eh…he didn't like Dick being angry with him.

Bruce again, was intelligent. More than smart enough to know that among their world of gods, aliens, killer robots and personified forces-they were unique as humans who had to face the same situations and consequences. Still, a lot of that power came from the 'strength in numbers' and 'buddy' systems they frequently used. Which they used-because they worked! Getting angry on Nightwing's part had been foolish. Then again it had been foolish on Batman's part to get involved with a case that was clearly already going to be solved and he was still unsure why he had done it. He had no desire to knock his partner down a peg or two. The man was clearly untouchable already with his connections. If Bruce had really ever hurt him-the Titans, The Outsiders, The League just-many people would let him know. He made a half attempt of an explanation to his own mind that maybe it was just nostalgia. They had, once upon a time, solved these cases together and they readily still could. Dick didn't need him to though.

That was the stereotypical argument there-the apprentice wanted to prove themselves to be good enough and instill pride but the mentor wanted to keep the success of that protégé with him because they were already proud.

It was one heck of a cycle, one side constantly bending in pain to appease the other to achieve some form of circular balance.

In that moment though where Nightwing had been upset Batman-well Bruce-had made an erratic decision and lied.

"I was simply stopping by to see you."

"Then why didn't you call?"

"I wanted to see you in person."

"…why?"

"This weekend."

"What about it?"

"Patrol. You and me. Like it used to be. No one else will be back until Sunday evening."

"…Boss, are you OK?"

It wouldn't have been too farfetched at that moment to assume he'd been on to something. Maybe it hadn't happened mere hours ago-perhaps it had been then that it had first bled through the wall?

"I'll be on my own in Gotham. I could use your help."

Truthfully no-it wasn't unusual for Batman to ask for help. The most important times in his career involved a partner, an ally or a team. So it hadn't been too weird. Even if they had returned to Gotham together and left the fight on the rooftop Dick was still clearly a bit angry. All of which could have been avoided with a phone call. OK, so sometimes Batman was really damn stupid. Because he had lied…in a way. So maybe he had slipped some things here and there to ensure everyone would be gone before they arrived in Gotham. He knew Alfred had seen through him in an instant (even if they had solely just been on the phone) and that was the only reason he hadn't used his butler-stubborn powers when Bruce had made a suggestion about London. An offer to finish patrolling New York had bought Batman enough time for the contingency plans, sending missions to the others via commlink while Nightwing was battering down a drunken man in a polar bear suit in an alleyway below.

A year later, he would finally ask Alfred how he had managed to see what was occurring before even Batman could. And of course the Bat Butler would just smile and wave nonchalantly before he returned to a novel ironically titled, Diving Hearts.

Bruce readjusted in his seat and turned slightly to glance up at the ceiling. He couldn't hear anything that his family was doing upstairs through the stone but he imagined he could.

The weekend had been very easy, both of the original Dynamic Duo slipping back into familiar stances and techniques and the air between them had been light, even if that little bit of tension from New York was still there. Everything had turned itself on its head mere hours ago though. Truthfully, Batman had wanted to begin analyzing how everyone would take the announcement of Mrs. Fields about her Penalty Project but with everyone gone…Eh? There wasn't much on the project but the .mp3 file he had from that bug in the Mayor's office though, so he wouldn't have had much to present to his team anyways. He and Nightwing had already made a stop on Sunday evening to scope out and to poke around the Mayor's filing cabinets and computer files. They found nothing of Bat-Interest, though perhaps Bruce Wayne could later take advantage of the fact that the Mayor had a strange similar fondness for blueberry turnovers.

That was until a few hours ago when they had gotten a call to return home given everyone else had been lured to the manor by a Pennyworth Promised Dinner when they had all arrived in Gotham in the mid to late evening.

Batman and Nightwing had a last half an hour patrol together-not unusual.

Until they had run into a weapon stash being transported by some very recognizable minions of Oswald Cobblepot. Batman had said nothing after the edge of a particle beam had hit and obliterated his cowl's internal armor because apparently two days of nostalgia drowning had left him off balance. At least-that's what he had deemed it at first.

The billionaire lowered his gaze from the cave ceiling, eyeing the air in front of him like there wasn't a giant computer screen in front of him or numerous files on the desk beneath his hands. Gloves still on, he raised his right hand to his forehead. The red shade had long faded away but he could still feel the pressure beneath his skin and feel IT too. That was the only name he had for it at the moment even if intellectually he knew very well what it was. Again, he was not stupid so he very well KNEW how these stories went.

IT happened to a lot of people and it had happened between coworkers too. That wasn't unusual. Denial would not get him anywhere-so he hadn't tried. He was experienced enough to know that it wouldn't help anything. Anger wasn't on the forefront of his mind either. IT wasn't making him upset at all. He was happy dammit!

And he didn't know what the hell to do with that!

This revelation should have spun his head and at this point, as a fast learner, perhaps he should have been bringing up every point of why this was bad but nothing had gotten rid of IT. This feeling wasn't going to go.

Damn it!

He needed a plan. Mrs. Fields Penalty Project wouldn't even hit the political lines until December (estimated Bat-guess) and he didn't expect that there would be much on it before the beginning of the month. Even then, it had to pass numerous production reports and committees. Such ideas normally didn't get very far but if she did have political sway with the Mayor…

Damn! It was just too early to tell and his thoughts were drifting back to-IT.

OK…this was happening. He got that.

With that Bruce leaned forward and let his right hand fall back onto the desk, his eyes now on the reports in the folders below. All he saw were random letters and numbers though. They weren't helping either. There was no equation for this: The Penalty Project, the Beta-6 sector negotiations, his normal nocturnal activities, Wayne Enterprises and now…this.

One thing at a time and the problem that was closest at the moment was his partner and this-thing! He had to handle IT first. He just wished he could see Dick's reaction ahead of time.

Plan. Long plan. This would take time. It would need to take a long time.

The billionaire straightened up and reached for the tablet in front of him again, tapping quickly to bring up a blank document and the digital keyboard.

Step 1: Initiate act that indicates trust. (June 27th)

Step 2: Keep trust.

Step 3: Personal one-on-one time.

Step 4: Confess. (October 1st)

Step 5: Cooling period.

Step 6: Calm discussion. (October 8th-Morning)

Step 7: Initiate intimacy.

Step 8: Cooling 2? /Receive intimacy?

Step 9: Profit. (Pre-December 14th)

Step 10: Effect & Consequence

It was a start and if he saved it as Grayson well-it was his tablet!

"Master Bruce, are you coming to dinner?"

"Shortly, Alfred."

Step 1. Estimated Time of Initiation: 1 Week

"Is Alfred mad at you again?" Dick Grayson asked as he followed his mentor out of Wayne Manor's den where they had left Tim and Damian fighting over pizza.

Bruce nearly stopped in his tracks but picked up the pace towards his study a mere millisecond later.

"Hmm."

Behind him his eldest protégé sighed under his breath in sad acceptance that he wasn't going to give in to be a great conversationalist for the evening but as Bruce turned to open his study door he caught a smirk on the acrobat's face that said 'I knew it.' The billionaire gave the younger man no invitation to gloat though and motioned him towards the inside of his study. Dick raised an eyebrow but stepped through and immediately headed for the couch on the far side of the room. Of course, he could already guess that the meeting in question was about Millis Tumner, the PREVIOUS Black Market Boss that had been covering an ARM poisoning operation in an aspirin factory in New York City. The man had apparently been making sporadic trips between Gotham, Augusta, New York, Trenton, Metropolis and strangely Niagara Falls in some pattern only Batman had been able to see.

This night Dick was a bad guesser. At least about their enemies, the guess that Alfred had been slowly torturing his employer for the past few months with meals had been obvious. So thereby it wasn't really a full point for him but-it was what it was.

As expected, while the acrobat settled himself on the couch of faded cloth, Bruce headed for his desk. Dick expected the older man to sit in his chair and begin pulling out files and papers of all sorts but he didn't even sit down! The billionaire simply opened a drawer, removed something (which he curled his hand around so the younger man couldn't see it) and then looked across the room to lock his dark blue eyes with his protégé's admittedly lighter ones.

"Uh, Bruce?"

"How did you know?"

"Uh…know what?" the acrobat tensed in the possibility of humiliation.

"Alfred."

"Oh," Dick breathed and sighed in relief.

Thanks goodness, he wasn't going to get shocked by a taser or something! He had been scared for a minute there!

"Starch, you're walking stiffer than usual."

Bruce kind of pouted which made the younger man smile mockingly at him. So Alfred had decided on a crossfire attack with laundry torture as well!

Suddenly, the billionaire set his mouth into a straight line that warned Dick that it was time for a 'serious' talk.

"Great!" the acrobat mumbled under his breath.

Bruce obviously chose to ignore the breathed-line in favor of crossing the room, his hand still curled around the object he had fished out of the drawer of his desk. Dick went to speak but snapped his jaw shut when Bruce began speaking instead.

"You did a great job with the Millis operation last week."

"Uh, thanks?"

The older man cleared his throat, "Yes that was a compliment."

"…"

"…"

"Not that I don't appreciate every single one you give me Bruce but…what?"

"Um, due to some recent…interventions-"

"Alfred's been giving you plain, lumpy oatmeal for breakfast again-hasn't he?"

Bruce's shoulders dropped with the released breath of defeat which caused Dick to grin in the fervor of being right for the first time in a long time that also double-acted as a psychological playful jab at his mentor. Now, if only he could get one of those back from his guardian instead of a brick wall of silence (that he'd been receiving for months) or a full blown mental heart punch.

"Anyways, it's not a secret that we've had…our disagreements over the years."

The acrobat frowned. He wasn't even going to supply a response to THAT one! That argument/issue was much too old.

"Either way…" Bruce trailed off and looked down to his curled up hand.

OH! Dick knew that look! That was the I-need-to-say-something-important-but-my-personality-makes-it-impossible look that the older man used on him near all of the time these days.

Aggravated more by Batman at the moment than actually Bruce Wayne, Dick got to his feet and stood before his mentor for a long five seconds. The elder unsurprisingly didn't say anything more for those five seconds, which the acrobat decided was the extent of his patience for the moment as he prepared to turn and walk towards the door. If Bruce wanted to stop him-he would.

He did.

Before the younger man could even complete the turn his mentor's strong grasp was around his arm and he was suddenly speaking.

"I trust you."

Dick blinked…and blinked a second time…

-What the heck was he supposed to do with that?

But the strange exclamation did make him turn back towards Bruce with a question in his eyes but not necessarily on his tongue. He didn't get a second chance to ask the question mental or otherwise when the hand that had wrapped itself around his forearm to stop his turn suddenly changed position to the center of his chest and gently pushed him back down onto the couch.

Dick thought he heard a gasp of breath but that very well could have been his own or the result of Bruce applying pressure to his chest and therefore his lungs. As a result of the movement, Bruce's other hand had uncurled itself from the object he was holding. Though annoyingly, his hand was still big enough to hide it from the acrobat's gaze.

"Bruce-what is this?"

The billionaire cleared his throat and finally turned the object over in his hand. Said object turned out to be a small clamp box covered in a layer of black velvet.

They didn't see the wide eyes at the door.

"Um…and I'm confused."

Bruce nodded in understanding before taking a single deep breath for time to gather his thoughts.

"You're still mad at me."

"Well you did swoop in and stomp all over my investigation back in New York!" the younger man pointed out.

"I'm sorry."

Dick sighed, his hands raising themselves to rub at his eyes in irritation. He, once again, found himself believing Bruce despite history, his emotional attachment and well-all degrees of common sense!

Before he could remove the hands covering his eyes though, his right was taken by his mentor's much larger, stronger hand. The acrobat managed a single blink before the hand was pulling him up off of the couch. Bruce was as steely-eyed as ever so there was no surprise there as he pulled the younger man away from the couch and across the floor, strong enough to include the unspoken 'rush-because-I'm-losing-my-confidence' comment but slow enough as to not trip his companion. Dick thought he was being pulled towards the desk but blinked in surprise again that night because as soon as the duo were standing in the center of the study, his mentor abruptly dropped his hand as if delaying dropping the hand hold had suddenly stung him out of nowhere. Confused, the younger man only tilted his head in confusion as Bruce turned both his eyes and head down towards the box he still held, as if he were acting a feline role.

"Look Bruce I don't know what you're-"

And Bruce Wayne conveniently shut Dick Grayson up once again by a certain series of events: he snapped the lid of the box back, let it rest in his right palm, stretched said hand out between the two of them, stuffed his left hand in his pocket to curl his fingertips into the inner soft material, closed his eyes and forced a smile onto his face.

There was a very sharp intake of breath that probably could have cut his head off given half the chance and the silence after lasted for a very long minute.

"…Bruce…I-I…"

The billionaire took that stutter for what he assumed was reluctance. Though IF he had had his eyes open at that moment perhaps he would have realized, at the moment, it was more shock than anything. He covered up the nervousness, given the vulnerability of the moment, with a very deep sigh so he could replace the previous short-gathered mass of oxygen in his lungs.

"Please Dick…just…"

Finally though, Bruce opened his eyes as Dick stepped forward and clamped his hands around the perimeter of the base of the clamp box. A little voice in the back of the acrobat's head was worried about if the box swayed slightly and the contents were lost to them. The circumference of his eyes definitely must have increased as he felt the edges of his eyelids minutely twitching and he was certain his jaw had fallen off in the last few seconds and landed…somewhere.

"Bruce…"

The billionaire took a moment to stare at said twitching light blue eyes and his smile grew a bit bigger. His left hand quit leaving holes on the inside of his pockets and darted out to shut the box, his fingertips taking a miniscule breath of a moment to muse over the black velvet lining of the box. That probably hadn't been the best idea but the box was all he could find and he hadn't wanted one that shouted 'Bat' in its construction. The younger man would have picked up on that much too easily. Bruce took another breath beneath a shifting of weight on his feet and withdrew his hands, surrendering the box to his protégé.

"Now…hm, don't lose…"

"Iwon't!" Dick said, his hands tightening around the box.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

Silence. Blink. Silence.

"It really was Alfred's idea."

"…"

"Have you been to see the Teen Titans lately?"

Bruce switched to Batman's tone. Get out. Get out of the conversation. Said vigilante/billionaire only relaxed when his protégé/partner relaxed his stance and their eyes met in silent agreement.

This was awk-weird to the extreme and they would do better to distract with vigilante talk. The younger man could even make a joke if he wanted to because if there was one thing neither was good with it was serious discussions. The dark reluctance and jovial kidding were just their own individual methods of avoidance. Different in means, but the same ends.

There was still a lot of tension but they seemed to be…'OK.'

Perhaps this was the beginning of Bruce's play or perhaps it had nothing to do with what did follow. Dick would never know for sure.

As with most typical stories of its type, the strangest events and happenings began with a normal day. A Thursday conveniently.

And IT was a normal day.

You just had to change the emphasis to 'was.'

The Bat-Clan was at a point where most would consider it a lull in their lives. Crime was down in Gotham City, the economy was great and therefore Wayne Enterprises was making more profits and jobs than ever before, no one on the team was pissed at one of the others, everyone was in a good mood, Damian was shaping up in school, Tim looked like he would be graduating soon with flying colors and with all sorts of rewards, Jason seemed to be mentally healing, Bruce wasn't at odds with anyone in the League and everything was just-good.

Naturally, like most stories, it WOULD happen upon this…day-of-all-days.

So, it was after a late evening of patrol when Batman stopped Nightwing from heading to the changing areas with the others, pushed a plastic file folder into his chest and told him to organize the newsprint sources inside from oldest to newest. Hey, the acrobat could be good and do as he was told; even if his stomach was growling for the late night treats he knew Alfred had waiting for everyone upstairs but Batman-knew-best. So he nodded and walked over to one of the desks where he could pull up a chair and spread the papers out. It was becoming habit these last few months as he'd been tooling around with many cases at the specific desk. All at Batman's 'requests' though so it wasn't too strange.

To his complete confusion all of the papers were about a strange but already long-ago solved case. In fact, if this was THAT case he should find-

"Ah! Got it!" the acrobat breathed as he pushed aside a few colorful photos and picked up an old newspaper with a large screaming header.

IRONY STRIKES FOR BATMAN AND ROBIN IN 'THE CASE WITH NO CRIME!'

He remembered this one. Holy misplaced currency Batman!

Though the biggest kicker of the case had been that in the end Bruce Wayne had had the missing $99.00 the entire time! Dick wondered if the store had ever given him the $1.00 in change they owed him. Though, now that he was looking over the papers of the case the confusion hit him.

Why was he looking over this case? Batman hadn't exactly given much of a task except to sort the newspaper articles in chronological order. This case had been closed since forever unless…maybe one of the four people involved was into something dangerous or deadly now?

No, it couldn't be. More than likely the people had to be elderly now if they were even still living at this point.

So that meant that this entire thing was way to keep him down in the cave while the others finished changing and went upstairs to claim the post-patrol Alfred snacks! Then again, Bruce might have done it to claim the snacks himself but turning to gaze around the cave Nightwing found that the Dark Knight was busy with a stack of schematics on a drawing table by the Bat-Computer. OK, he wanted to talk to him about something then. The acrobat sighed, really Bruce could have just said: "Stay behind; I need to talk to you." It wasn't that difficult to do! He didn't need to be this damn obscure!

Either way, Nightwing had said that he'd organize the newsprint, so he finally dove into the piles of cut out newspaper articles, located the dates and began organizing them. Of course Batman hadn't left it that easy. Some of the dates on the articles had been either partially or completely cut out so he had to reread some of the articles to deduce their dates, meaning he also had to think back to the case in question and remember in what order the information had been discovered or become available to the press. He even found a few false articles that his mentor had probably planted to throw him off. He threw those aside given they were useless. Thankfully, he was accustomed to the Bat's crazy random tests.

"Goodnight bro."

"Goodnight Tim."

"Goodnight Bruce."

"Hmm."

Still this wasn't particularly difficult, just tedious as it took a long time to cross reference a lot of the dates.

"Night."

"Goodnight Cass."

"Night."

"Hmm."

Batman was being way too obvious with this.

So something had to be wrong. Especially if he was making such a potentially confusing task so easy for him. This could have easily been more difficult.

"I'm leaving!"

"Sweet dreams Dami!"

"Father?"

"Hmm."

Hmm, another false article. The acrobat had just put the last of the cut newsprint into the 'fake' pile when he heard the echo of deliberate light footsteps spreading across the expansive stone of the cave and a quick kick stream of sudden rapid typing.

"System Alpha-3 HQ Lock"

Nightwing's masked eyes flew to the ceiling where the speaker system had announced one of the cave's security system locks. It wasn't exactly the one programmed for nuclear/atomic bombings or the destruction of reality itself but why would Batman be using the one for widespread plague? That was weird; unless the Dark Knight knew something no one else did which was all together possible. So, was there a plague? The acrobat glanced over to find that his mentor was approaching him, raising his hands to pull the cowl down. He quickly reached up to pull his own mask from his face. Apparently they were going to have this conversation as half vigilantes-half civilians. The mask went next to the pile of fake articles, the organized newsprint he straightened and put back into the plastic folder. He managed to just close it when Bruce's gloved hand came down on his right shoulder.

"What is it Bruce?"

"Finished?"

"Obviously, what is it?"

A sigh left Bruce's mouth, "I've become predictable lately haven't I?"

"I think even Arkham knows it."

"…I need to tell you something."

"Finally, you've been this way this way since the end of June after-"

"Yes," Bruce interrupted, "I know."

Dick finally placed his hands down on the desk and pushed himself to his feet, feeling Bruce's hand fall from his shoulder. Once standing he turned back towards his mentor and raised an eyebrow at the fact that Bruce's gaze seemed aligned with the floor. That was weird. Really weird.

"Then what is it?"

"It appears that…"

Well he was still himself if conversation was beyond his abilities!

"Did I cause you strategic brain damage or something?"

"No!" Bruce said more loudly than needed and finally realigned his gaze from the ground to his partner's eyes but said nothing more.

Now that the man's eyes were in view though, the younger man finally found IT and by IT he meant that there was something in Bruce's eyes that he did NOT recognize. That-kind of irritated him. Bruce-reading and Batman-reading was hard enough; he didn't like it when the detective threw in something new; especially when what he could read of it was so foreign to his understanding of Bruce Wayne or Batman that he had no point of reference! It was just plain irritating!

"Then what is it? I'm not asking-"

The rest of his sentence (whatever it was going to be) was cut off when the gloved hand that had previously perched on his shoulder flew up and clamped itself over his mouth.

"Stop talking."

Dick blinked twice. Stop talking? He wanted to hilariously twitch and mutter: 'Does not compute' -but something about that thing in Bruce's eyes was spreading throughout his gaze and it somehow made him WANT to shut up in favor of hearing something from Bruce instead.

"Come on," Bruce spoke so softly that Dick got the feeling that it was more of a request than an order. That was weird too.

The billionaire's hand fell from his mouth and curled itself into his own hand before the detective was turning and pulling on his grasp to urge the acrobat into following him. The unusual thought in said acrobat's mind though was the fact that they were heading somewhere familiar though he wasn't sure why it was like Deja vu. The area was in a side 'wing' (for lack of a better term in the situation) of the Batcave that was cast in shadows. Not exactly Batman's shadows, they were more of a natural coating of night. There turned out to be an actual light there though because as soon as Dick passed into the line of shadows and cave light, a small speck of red glowed on the nearby wall. Turned out it was some kind of internal magnesium burning as a clank followed the glow. He didn't get to see what the source was exactly before his gaze was taken up by the chair he found revealed by the light.

Yes a chair or more precisely some utilitarian type of chair that looked more suited for prisoners, interrogation or even torture. He wasn't scared but…what the-?

He was about to ask but Bruce's gaze snapped back towards his eyes and that was another really weird thing happening at the moment because the detective in the older man had conditioned a slow moving gaze at all times of observation. The slow movement allowed the capture of more details in a scene-but that lesson was like first week training stuff and Dick didn't need to mentally review that basic right now. Besides, what the heck was with that gaze? Gosh, he had a million questions!

"Uh, Bruce is something going on?"

"Do you trust me?"

The acrobat blinked twice again and he didn't have to think it, it came out of his mouth instantly before he could stop it, "Why are you asking a stupid question? What is going on? Is something wrong? Is someone in danger? Are you? Am I? Is there really a plague spreading? Do we have it? Are we the only two who don't? I want answers!"

Bruce frowned in annoyance. Maybe this hadn't been the best course of action? Oh well either way he was screwed, or hell he was about to destroy both of their lives with this anyways!

"There's no plague, I just don't want any disturbances and no, no one is in any danger."

"Whew!"

"Do you trust me?" Bruce's gaze was back on his with that foreign thing again.

OK, no population destroying plague and no danger. That was good but still Dick frowned in his own show of annoyance.

"Again, I repeat: Why are you asking a stupid question?"

Bruce smirked and closed his eyes, "I guess I should expect it by now."

"Nah, really?" Dick said with a smile.

The billionaire took a deep breath, dropped his protégé's hand then turned just as sharply to grasp the younger man by his shoulders. Before Dick could even breathe his next breath he was pushed down into the chair. He didn't see any torture tools nearby nor any kind of electricity inducing head ornaments so he didn't tense. Bruce obviously just really wanted him to pay attention for some reason that was important but not dangerous. Hmm, that was really weird too. The older man's hands dropped from his shoulders and intertwined themselves at the base of Bruce's stomach.

"OK you're acting really weird Bruce and it's not your normal weird."

"That's an oxymoron."

Was that a statement of fact or an insult and were they really going to debate language and literature at this point?

"OK, you have my full attention."

"Trust me," Bruce seemed to beg as his hands separated and reached for each arm of the chair.

His fingers bent below the armrests and retracted, each grasping the ends of restraining straps. Common sense kicked in as the acrobat's eyes widened at the sight. He curled up immediately and got his feet beneath him, ready to jump for it and escape when his mentor dropped the restraining straps and stepped back. His gauntleted hands rose in front of him in the universal 'I'll-not-make-any-sudden-moves' gesture. That made the younger man freeze.

"Please, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then why the hell did you plan to restrain me!"

The billionaire admittedly looked kind of sheepish and embarrassed at the direct comment, "Honestly, they're only there to stop you from punching me."

Dick relaxed and resettled himself in the chair, "You expect me to try to punch you right now?"

Actually, that didn't sound like too bad of an idea at the moment. Bruce WAS acting pretty dang weird.

"I expect you will when I tell you…"

"When you tell me what?"

"I'm not telling you unless you're restrained," the older man said, crossing his arms over his chest.

So, it was Batman's way or the highway? At least something was familiar and making sense at the moment. Drawing comfort from that fact alone the acrobat relaxed into the chair (why was the thing so uncomfortable?) took in a deep breath, reached out to lay his hands on the armrests above the restraint straps and then released the stored oxygen.

"OK. I trust you."

Bruce gulped very audibly, which was another weird thing that was messing with the younger man's thought process, dropped his arms to his sides and took a deep though more silent breath himself. He stepped forward and reached out towards his protégé's left arm first. He grabbed the restraint strap with one hand while the other rested softly on the blue striped gloved hand below it. He brought the strap over the acrobat's wrist and let one finger slide between the strap and the hand being restrained. After all, he didn't want to cut off the circulation. The billionaire glanced up as the first hand was carefully restrained and studied his partner. There was a curiosity and alertness in the younger man's eyes but he saw no fear. Fear was the absolute last thing he wanted to see. If he saw as much as a single speck of fright in Dick's eyes he was going to lose all of the confidence that had been building up to this night. Bruce righted his attention and switched to restraining his protégé's other hand. He glanced up again after this and still saw no fear. Now it was just…desperate curiosity. For once, he wished the younger man could read his thoughts directly. It would make this so much easier.

The billionaire straightened up and stared down at the acrobat for a long minute. Here he was. He'd let Bruce strap him to a chair. Sure he could get out of it in less than 30 seconds if he was being tested but that wasn't what this was about. With a mental nod from the Bat inside his mind, Bruce turned slightly to a hole in the nearby stone wall and reached inside. Dick just continued to watch, absolutely confused by the turn of random, out-of-the-proverbial-blue events suddenly shaping his evening. Knowing Bruce he could be keeping anything from a bottle of wine to a high explosive inside the cave wall. He almost asked but was shocked silent at the object his mentor did pull from the wall. He saw a carved piece of wood, followed by a large piece of glass that grew smaller as it was retrieved from its hiding place. He knew then. It was an hourglass.

Bruce kept an hourglass in a crevice in one of the Batcave's many walls.

Strangely, that was the more normal part of the evening.

"An hourglass Bruce?"

"No, ten minutes."

Finally, half Batman and half Bruce Wayne, the detective turned revealing the entire object to the acrobat's observation. Indeed it was smaller than a normal hourglass, the wood was worn and damp, the glass was smudged in a few places though not cracked and to top off the weirdness of the situation it contained partially shiny, bright red sand.

Dick asked the obvious question, "Why?"

Instead of answering directly, Bruce reached for the right side of the back of the chair, pulled at a switch and out came a plate of the same thin steel that made up the chair. It bent forward and snapped down into place beside the acrobat much like a serving tray would. Bruce set the hourglass down on it but he hadn't turned the time keeper over for the sand to begin falling yet…

"Bruce, I'm really confused," Dick admitted, turning his now really worried eyes on his mentor.

"I know," Bruce's eyes made an escape and glued themselves to the cave floor beneath his feet.

"What's wrong because you've really got me worried and rightfully freaked?"

And hell he had a right to be worried at this point because what the heck was going on? None of this made any sense! He recalled that Bruce had done all of this because he had to talk to him but this was very much beyond what he had expected, even from someone as unpredictable as Bruce or Batman!

"Trust me."

"I do but that's not answering my question!"

The billionaire took a deep breath and raised his eyes from the stone floor. Blue met Blue. He reached out, one hand sliding along the armrest next to his protégé's arm while his other hand grasped the side of the sand timer. With that he leaned forward into the acrobat's personal space as close as he dared. The younger man didn't attempt to lean away but he was definitely more confused now.

"I need to tell you…something but I need you not to speak. For ten minutes."

"Um I-"

"Give me your word that no matter what I say or do you will not speak or attempt to move for ten minutes."

Dick frowned. This all seemed a bit eh…extreme but if that's what Bruce wanted-

"OK."

"Swear it," Bruce ordered, his eyes narrowing into a glare.

The acrobat sighed in annoyance, "Fine. I swear Bruce that I will not speak or attempt to move, no matter what you say or do, for the next ten minutes."

That seemed to both satisfy the older man and help him relax as he finally turned the small time keeper over. Dick kept his eyes on said time piece for five seconds before Bruce straightening back up into a standing position recaptured his attention. OK, it wasn't that the acrobat didn't like where this was going but again it was…weird. Confused and worried was not a state of mind that he enjoyed.

Unfortunately, Bruce spent his first available two minutes of silence in…silence. Eventually though, he did begin speaking. Oh miracle of miracles!

"You remember four months ago. We had just stopped that last courier of particle lasers from reaching the Penguin and put him away…again. It was just us. You remember. Just the two of us. I'm not even certain of the why. You'd cracked one of your old puns again so maybe that had me feeling nostalgic or perhaps it was just the whole night making me feel so..."and rightfully freaked Batman.

And with that Bruce began pacing as Dick just continued to stare and blink in confusion. Bruce pacing?

"…you remember we shared a joke. Hell, I don't even remember what it was now. I remember that we were both laughing though."

Yeah. Dick wanted to say as the memory danced behind his eyes. It had been one heck of a revelation that evening some months ago as it had been the first time in a long time that he had heard his mentor laugh and at one of HIS jokes. It had been a huge morale boost. But what did all of that mean for Bruce? Gosh, this was still confusing!

"It was still early in the evening and everyone else was busy. After that bust all of the criminals were hiding and we knew they would be lying low for the next few days. We ended up going over the supplies that the GCPD had taken inventory of in the courier but that task didn't take up much time so we patrolled for a short time."

Walk left. Turn around. Walk right. Gosh this man was making him dizzy. What was his angle?

"We stopped at Pearson's bakery. They were making a large order of blueberry and banana nut muffins. I remember that. Perhaps that was why we stopped there. I can't remember that part. You repeated your joke and we laughed again. Then you threw a mock punch, called me old and we started to spar."

Walk right. Turn around. Walk left.

"You were talking throughout as usual. For the most part I was tuning you out. I regret that. I should have been listening. Maybe I could have prepared myself for-"

For what? The acrobat wanted to ask but was reminded of his five-minute-ago oath that he would not speak or attempt to move and hey for once Bruce wanted to talk! Not that Dick hadn't spent most of his life listening to Bruce and the older man admittedly only listening to him in return a mere 15% of the conversations they had. Still, the billionaire normally didn't speak this freely.

Walk left. Turn around. Walk right.

It wasn't an attempt to move, just a shifting of weight to stop his legs from falling asleep and a flexing of his hands to reassure himself of the wrist straps. What was this? He was still puzzling it out. Had something happened that night those months ago that Dick had missed? Bruce was still going after all. One silent step for every single syllable it seemed.

"-But maybe I couldn't have. Maybe no one really could've at all. It all was so sudden. I left an opening on my left side and you pinned me. Somehow we ended up hitting each other's craniums on the way down."

Oh yeah that had hurt. He remembered but- So? He hadn't spoken it aloud but the question seemed to emanate in the air between them anyways. How much time before he could start asking questions? The acrobat glanced over at the time piece at his side and estimated four minutes.

Walk right. Turn around. Walk left. Gosh! This was boring!

Definitely dizzy now. No doubt about it. He'd never seen Bruce move this much, not even when Batman was in the middle of a battle! He was tired of asking what was going on now. Hopefully he'd just be told strait out because this was getting very tiring.

"What I withheld from you that night was that one of those men we had turned over the GCPD from the Penguin's courier had actually gotten a hit on me with one of the particle weapons."

Eyes widening, Dick glanced down to his hands to contort his wrists and fingers to get out of the restraints so he could check on his mentor's health, apparently hidden injuries and then maybe yeah Bruce had been right he was going to punch him! Unfortunately before he could even literally move a finger, Bruce was kneeling before him and his gloved hands were clamped down over his wrists.

"I wasn't hurt. My armor prevented injury."

Oh whew! Relief spread through the acrobat's body as he sighed, his entire being calming back down.

Bruce was staring down at his hands. Whatever he wanted to say it was obviously coming soon but-what? Why in any and all degree of sense did he care for this man? Why? Well, at least the dizzying pacing had stopped. That was a plus. Though, why was Bruce now leaning into his personal space?

The younger man almost voiced the question but a flexing of his mentor's fingers around his bound wrists made him remember that he still had a few minutes left before he could speak and boy was the billionaire going to get an earful if the acrobat had to turn the tables and restrain HIM in this chair!

"I didn't tell you that it had done damage to the armor in my cowl."

YOU WERE PATROLLING WITH COMPROMISED ARMOR! Dick wanted to shout it but the tightening of fingers on his wrists had shut him up again. How many times had Bruce yelled at Dick for that? They all had had their own experiences at the danger of their armor and gear being damaged or failing and they had been freaking scary times! Pieces of armor not thick enough, curling inwards to allow the passing of a bullet into skin, bracers failing and allowing bones to slip, even grapples failing to deploy at the right time or angle and their user plummeting quite a distance before a spare could be pulled out of a compartment or said user could be rescued by a overseeing partner.

"Thankfully, we didn't run into any further trouble that night."

Right. That was the important thing. Bruce hadn't been hurt. After their little play-fighting in which gravity had made them hit their foreheads together they had just returned home. The Bat had simply retreated into case studies for the night. Although….wait a minute! So that's why the acrobat hadn't ended up with a concussion. He would have if the armor in Bruce's cowl hadn't been damaged. So what though? He should be happy? It wouldn't have been his first concussion exactly if he had but-

"Dick. I'm going to go ahead and apologize for this. I'm sorry."

For hitting his head? OK…still confused! Apparently that was clear as crystal on his face because instead of keeping his eyes on his bound hands, the older man finally looked up and met his gaze.

"I'm not sure how to say this. I did what research I could but-"

What? Had hitting heads given Bruce some strategic brain damage like he had guessed earlier?

The billionaire took another deep breath before opening his mouth again.

"I love you."

Yeah. He already knew that. Dick narrowed his eyes in an even more confused glare.

"You don't understand…I love you."

IT was back. That confusing thing that overtook Bruce's entire countenance. The acrobat tilted head to the right slightly. Just more confusion. He knew Bruce loved him. He loved Bruce. They all loved one another. Even if they weren't certain what their connections were, there was love there. Whatever it was, they never questioned or analyzed it-just accepted it. He loved his mentor. That was a fact so what the hell was Bruce getting at because he was about out of patience? A glance to his side reassured the acrobat that he would be free of his oath to begin his own interrogation (that HAD to be what this really was-it was the only explanation at this point) in about 60 seconds and he would finally get some clear answers from his partner!

The younger man's thought process blanked out when Bruce's hands left their place on his wrists and began following the blue stripes across his forearms and up his biceps. OK, normally this would be uncomfortable but for the years of experience it wasn't. It wasn't the first time Bruce had touched him or ran a hand over one of his limbs. Split skin, chemical spills, stitches, sore muscles, bruises, bone setting, nerve testing, etc… and naturally all of that checking was a slow process. So no, he was not freaking out. It wasn't even when those hands cupped the sides of his head. It felt a little weird as the fingers of Bruce's right hand tangled in his hair but he'd had head wounds plenty of times before so he mentally shrugged off the worry about that touch. That was the strange thing though, he knew he didn't have any injuries at the moment and there was no way that this was just the Bat being paranoid or the billionaire being protective or plain Bruce just being careful. IT was something else.

Finally he got it. He got it when Bruce leaned forward even deeper into his personal space until he estimated there was only a whopping three inches between their faces. Um, no. No. That could not be it. Ha! Funny…

He tried to laugh at IT but Bruce obviously had other plans as he noticed his protégé's eyes widening and his mouth falling open. The billionaire huffed a laugh beneath his breath and his eyelids relaxed to half stance as he got closer and the acrobat's eyes kept growing in shock and disbelief but not -Bruce noted- in denial.

"You're-"

Dick shuddered once as his mentor released a deep breath over his lips. He forgot that he had previously tilted his head to the right in confusion a short while ago and that had lined up perfectly to-

"Beautiful…"

And finally...finally the older man came within an inch, closed his eyes and pressed their lips together.

Inside his mind, Bruce counted:

5…4…3…2…1…0

He pulled back, stood up, stepped back and raised a gloved hand to his lips. There! All done! He opened his eyes but looked to the time piece with red sand still falling.

10 seconds.

To hell with it! He was a bloody coward!

Even Batman feared the next few seconds so he jumped to the forefront of Bruce's mind and forced him to turn and walk rapidly towards the elevator. Perhaps he would have regretted leaving the acrobat strapped to that chair but the restraints were easy to get out of and…maybe he wasn't cowardly. After all, even if he was taking the elevator, someone mounting the steps could beat him upstairs. Then again, perhaps it was better if Dick didn't follow him. Bruce had no idea what would happen beyond this but-

He realized that even if Batman was leading at the moment the vigilante presence could not force the fingers away from his lips. Forget Batman, he had liked the kiss and he was going to enjoy it! He didn't care what Batman was yelling. He didn't care.

Back downstairs Dick Grayson found himself in a sort of…trance. He freed himself of the restraints, went back over to the desk he had previously been working at to scoop up his mask and then he left.

WHAT. THE. -!

Considering the dual identities of Gotham city's most prestigious family, perhaps the story may have started off with a typical range of events that would be peculiar for a great number of people but normal for them. Then again, the family had their days of normalcy as well that was equivalent with any other average person's day. The only difference being that their thoughts were far from the norm.

For Batman, or even Bruce Wayne, THIS was very far from normal. Bruce Wayne had a number of personalities he could rely on. If he had to contact underground communication rings 'Matches Malone' did his job. If he needed to project a great range of power to the public, his billionaire playboy Brucie image was on standby and if he just needed to scare someone's skin off of their own bones well-Batman was there.

The problem was that Bruce (Just Bruce for now-he had decided) was stuck somewhere he really couldn't identify. Sure the observation was more metaphorical than literal because he was not physically 'stuck' anywhere so to speak but was in a way.

And that-Bruce decided as he reached out and his hands wrapped around a swing-was the problem with nearly everything.

It wasn't not knowing what was what and which was which. It was about one thing being so many things at once that labels and classification were simply impossible actions or possibilities. As such, there were many things in his life that he had struggled to identify or at least base-classify that irritated him.

His normal work didn't help as it kicked his brain into over-analyzing and for all intents and purposes, he should NOT be over analyzing what had just occurred. Hadn't he done it out of nothing more than a simple 'feeling'?

And then there was the cliché, over-used premonition of mind over matter and logic over emotion. He wasn't blind to every incarnation portrayed by the media about him as both Bruce Wayne and Batman. Everything from campy to practically undead heralded his reputation-not that he cared for them…though they did do their job…with the public and all.

Bruce turned in midair; hands still clamped on the swing, and straitened his form. In the back of his mind he felt an older version of himself reprimanding him for even touching the Trap.

For all of those wondering thoughts-YES. Mere minutes previously he had left himself vulnerable and he couldn't bring his body to move back towards the clock that lead down to his secret HQ. Strangely, Batman had not stepped to the front of his consciousness and demanded he stimulate his mind with a case or two. His darker vigilante side was quiet, as if the manifestation itself was contemplating its own perspective on the events. Hell, who wouldn't do so after something like that?

Bruce released his hold on the bar and dropped strait down. Just a victim of gravity. No worries, he had prepped the net a mere few minutes ago. Although he still wondered what had driven him from his departure from the cave and then his study only to end up in the aerial gym. And why in his right mind he decided that he would feel better exercising on the trapeze.

Well-Dick's trapeze actually.

Because even if he and his other protégés did some acrobatic practice for their training no one used the acrobat's trapeze…they'd stick with some training on the parallel bars and that was normally the extent. Bruce had been more acrobatic in his youth but those days were long gone, replaced by strong center-stances, rocket uppercuts, knock-bodies-across-the-room-punches and strength building sets. Still, he remembered using the trapeze when…he stopped the line of thought as he felt his back hit the net. Then there was the physics elastic-rebound and he just stopped by closing his eyes. He remembered that he hadn't even changed out of his suit but-

Had he actually done that?

It would help if he could stop smiling!

So perhaps Dick Grayson, AKA Nightwing, had learned that brooding on rooftops was normal for a family so abnormal but that wasn't his current location. He hadn't known where to go and the simple act of 'going in THAT random direction' ended up with him by the Gotham River. Now, he was in no way brooding at the moment. Just because he wasn't beaming at everything in sight didn't mean that he was depressed.

He wasn't depressed. He wasn't even sad.

OK, he would gladly be the first to confess that Bruce, and as an extension Batman, surprised him all of the time. He was confused, not sad-confused or angry-confused just confused.

Still decked up in full Nightwing-gear the hero parked and climbed out of the crime-fighting car he had been gifted, The Nightbird, which he was still claiming was 'new' even though he had received it on his birthday and said spring season, summer season and a fair bit of the autumn had passed as he recalled that the current day's date was October 3rd. He hadn't asked for it but-Bruce.

And that was all that he needed to say to THAT.

Now, he was closing the door with a release of breath that whiplashed and curtained his face. Gotham was unusually still warm this late in the year after the surprise Weather Wizard's attack the previous week that had been demolished by Batwoman . Gothamites weren't complaining though and Batman had said that the effects would dissipate over the remainder of October, though the cooler autumn temperatures would hit very fast and strict about a week or two into November.

Nightwing moved to the front of the Nightbird and perched himself on the hood. His booted feet kicked at a few strands of withered grass before he leaned back and allowed himself to fall. A quick movement of arms had his hands curled around the back of his head as he felt the slight drop of surface temperature as they landed against the blue sheened glass of the bird-shaped windshield. He looked up at the sky for stars knowing that he wouldn't be able to see any and released a hum of thought from his lips. He mashed them together as an action to the thought of just thinking hard and triggered the memory that made him shiver. His left hand slowly left the back of his head, his right hand readjusting for its partner's sudden absence, and landed on his forehead…just touching with the fingertips.

It had happened. It had.

OK, he had a million questions. Most of which he knew that he would never receive any answers for.

He just didn't know what to do about it. Bruce had left while there was still ten seconds on the damn hourglass! And an hourglass-Batman owned an hourglass!

One of those weird things that still surprised Dick after all of those years!

Though, even if he admitted that Bruce often surprised him…those surprises only happened often because well-darn it!

The League, their family, the media…everyone.

He didn't know what to do.

Dick let his gloved hand fall ever downward until his fingertips brushed over his lips.

And he felt the ghost of black gauntlets gently touch his shoulders.

Atop the GCPD HQ Commissioner Gordon was tapping his foot to an imaginary tune that had no origin as he slightly leaned against the lit Bat-signal.

Where was/were he/she/they?

James looked at his watch. It'd been 45 minutes! Hell, could he at least get one Bat tonight? Had they all decided to spontaneously go on vacations at the exact same time?

Ignoring the lack of a breeze in the warm night air he glanced down at the folder tucked beneath his arm and slightly shivered at the word printed across the top of the folder: PENALTY.

Back on the Gotham River Nightwing had scanned the area, deemed it safe and had removed his mask to rub at his eyes. His gloves only ended up making his eyes burn in irritation so he growled under his breath and reached for the catches that connected them to the sleeves of his uniform. It took a long half a minute but he had them off and he reached out to drop them on top of his mask. The three objects were hanging on the space indent made by the separation between the Nightbird's blue bird-shaped windshield and the surrounding structure of the vehicle. So, slightly secure for the time being.

Dick Grayson's bare fingers finally pressed themselves against his closed eyelids.

Gosh, he felt the blood vessels within bursting with the pressure already but he welcomed the distraction for the moment.

"Beautiful…"

NO. Just NO!

His hands left his eyes for the respected sides of his skull as he shook his head in even more irritation. He had to think about this!

-but, he was expected to be able to think right now?

He thought it was something about trust not about…being in love.

Oh! He had thought it! And it wouldn't go away!

He growled under his breath again, jumped from the hood of the Nightbird, snatched up his gloves and mask, threw himself back inside his vehicle and keyed in the order to return to his base.

"Home," he mumbled.

Home. New York. The Night-Tower. His penthouse.

He picked up the distant sound of sirens and tried to shut them out as the Nightbird started moving. Nothing to worry about.

More sirens.

Oh would Gotham SHUT UP!

The acrobat's non-gloved right hand smacked itself over his eyes. Before he always asked 'WHY?' Bruce did these things to him. Now he was asking 'HOW?' he did these things to him. It was like Batman and to an extent, Bruce, could envelop anyone with PMS or bipolar-ness. He certainly did it to him. Dick had always had their extensive history so he could Bruce-Read and Batman-Read fairly well but it was moves like…eh…THAT ONE that left him without any way to respond.

As for what had just occurred in the deep recesses of the Batcave? Well for all intents and purposes, his mind was attempting to repress it.

It had to go away!

He smacked a still bare hand over his mouth, slammed his eyes shut, began shaking and choked out a:

"Oh my god…"

Friday...

Saturday...

Sunday...

Monday-October 5th

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Dick Grayson ignored the beating on his door and just turned in bed to stuff his face into his pillow. On Friday morning he had sent an e-mail to the museum, stating he was taking a week-long vacation. Other than that though, he had made no contact with anyone in his life; civilian or hero. Part of him was actually surprised though that no one had come looking for him beforehand. Then again, he could have been asleep. He'd been doing a lot of that over the last few days. He'd strangely been cleaning a lot as well. His place had never been so spotless.

Likewise, Nightwing had not been seen on patrol and he estimated that all of his 'teams' had just assumed he was either busy with 'Bat-business' in Gotham, occupied by something personal (which everyone was strangely respectful about) this week or simply lumped in with another group. It wouldn't have lasted forever though; someone was going to come looking eventually. He had half expected it to be someone from Gotham. Alfred, Tim or even…Bruce.

Barbara had called but he had shut down his communication web and even if the Night-Tower's communication web was open he hadn't been there lately.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

He groaned and reached up to bring the pillow out from under his face and then slammed it down over the back of his head. Face pressed into the sheets he got a lungful of the new fabric softener that had arrived via Alfred some…two weeks ago? Dick had assumed it was just-you know-Alfred! But-

Did Alfred know?

Did anyone in Gotham know?

Oh, he knew this was pathetic. Pandering around the house had never been in his personality. EVER!

…He just didn't know what to do…

"Dick, honey, are you OK? I know you're in there-I can you breathing!"

Donna. Damn.

"I can faze through this door ya know!"

Wally. Double Damn.

"DICK IF YOU DON'T FUCKING OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW I'LL-UGH!"

Roy? Oh no!

"We said to hold him back!"

Donna and Wally. Shouting in unison?

"He has a taser! That thing hurts!"

Garth? That was everyone then.

The Titans.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

BANG! THUMP!

"Roy, you didn't have to break the door."

"Yes I did!"

Dick did have a security system on his penthouse but for the life of him-he couldn't remember if he'd armed it or not. Worst of all the system was linked both to the Night-Tower and the Batcave back in Gotham City! Oh no-he was not ready to see Bruce again. Not at all!

He pulled himself from the bed and strode over to the desk where he had left his laptop sitting with the screen down. He opened it up, dismissed the messages left by Oracle and keyed in the override code for the security system which he had turned on apparently but had only turned it up to level 2. Bruce would be beside himself for that-

Dammit get out of his head!

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

His bedroom door rattled.

"We know you're in there Dick! Open the damn door!"

Roy was furious. No surprise there!

But-what would Titans think of…this?

The acrobat, took a deep breath and marched over to the door prepared to-

And he lost the confidence that fluttered away in a nonexistent gale.

He took another deep breath, turned away from the door and leaned back against it. Sometime after Sunday he had shed Nightwing's ensemble and put on sweat pants and a blue t-shirt so the chill of the door against his back was minimal. His feet were bare though and his hair was probably a mess. He didn't even want to think about what his skin looked like at a glance.

"Roy, control yourself!"

Slap!

The rattling of the door came to a halt and then there was calm, soothing voice as a warm presence seemed to navigate its way through the door and soak into his back.

"I know you're there Dick. Please, what's wrong?"

"Donna?"

Eh, his voice had gone hoarse from disuse.

"Are you sick?"

"Tell him to-!"

"Shut up!"

Slap!

"Ow, Donna!"

The acrobat let a sandpaper chuckle escape his lips as he heard Wally whine.

"I heard that," Garth's calm voice melted into the air.

"We all did. Now, are you sick?"

Donna again.

"No. I'm-"

He wasn't going to say 'fine' but he had almost said 'healthy' but that wasn't really true either.

"Has something happened?"

"Yes!"

Oops. He had said that louder than he intended.

"How are you hurt and whose ass are we kicking?"

Roy again. Typical Roy Harper in all his badass glory.

"I'm not hurt."

"Physical or emotional-I don't care. Whose ass am I kicking? I need a target!"

"Dude, I can go get us some soda and pizza! We can pop in some horror movies to make fun of and then you could tell us what's wrong!"

He couldn't tell them. Couldn't tell them this. OK, he had never borrowed Batman's method of 'tell what's only necessary' because he trusted his team and friends. The only secrets he had kept were the ones essential to guarding his family's and friends' lives and on occasion when someone came to him in confidence with a personal problem. But this-what the hell was this classified as? As much as this was just between he and Bruce…if it happened then their family would have to know and of course he'd have to tell the Titans!

Oh-he was actually legitimately thinking about it!

His hands flew up, slapping the sides of his skull as his breathing grew deeper.

"Dick, sweetie, you have to tell us what's wrong."

He had to.

"You know any of us could knock this door down," Garth reminded him.

…

Dick stood up strait, turned back towards the door, reached out and clicked open the lock.

No one outside moved though and there was a distinct LACK of breathing. Everyone was holding their breaths then. But-he couldn't. The Titans would freak. Donna and Roy were likely to go after Bruce directly. Wally might be a safer choice, but being in the League he would run into Batman himself sooner or later.

He reached out and turned the knob-opening the door barely an inch.

"I'll talk to Garth."

"What?"

"-But?"

"Huh?"

"Me?"

The acrobat ducked behind the door, opening it enough along the way for one of them to squeeze through.

"…"

"Don't worry guys. You all go sit down in the living room. I got this."

Then why did Garth sound so winded?

The atlantean slipped through the doorway, a mere second before the acrobat closed it with a quick click. Thankfully even Garth had come dressed as a civilian, sporting large black shoes, a pair of dark jeans, a red t-shirt and a blue jacket. Oh yeah, it was getting colder in New York now. Dick hadn't noticed. Even the scar that normally marred Tempest's face was gone. There was no visible cover-up so the acrobat assumed magic had had something to do with the man's clear visage. His dark hair was curled on the ends though-which was strange but he didn't want to question it.

"Wow, no offense. You look like death warmed over. Three or four times."

"Yeah, I kind of feel like it."

"OK, I'm all for pride in warriors standing tall through pain but you should sit down. Like now."

Surprisingly, the acrobat did as ordered and it was honestly freaking Garth out. He was never blind to the fact in the later years of the Titans that he had been far from the most popular of the group and not exactly the tightest of friends with his teammates either. The others had been pretty close so why was their leader deciding to confide in him? Yet, he had traversed the carpeted floor and settled down on the edge of his bed that was a bit wrinkled but otherwise perfectly made up-except for that lopsided pillow.

Surface dwellers were so weird.

Garth tried to draw on his memories of how their leader had handled problems like this with others and cross referenced it mentally with Donna's normally calm presence. Which he had trouble with because he was not nurturing like her and he was far from the 'big brother' or 'rock' of the group; as he was just the one normally looked over. Still, he braced himself, crossed the floor and knelt down in front of his friend, who was breathing very heavily. Though dressed, the man was a mess. Pale skin, ashy hair, dark crescents beneath his eyes that had gone glassy and though dressed-the sweatpants and t-shirt were not in good condition as they were wrinkled and stained even though he distantly picked up the scent of soap and cleaning detergent.

Weird. Surface dwellers.

Kneeling wasn't really his thing either as he was a Prince but-not here on the surface world. Besides, it didn't matter anyway. This was his friend after all. So he geared himself up and spoke as calmly as he could.

"What's happened?"

The acrobat glanced up and steeled himself. Garth really had been a sporadic choice. So many people took him for lame and seemed to forget he was a Prince and controlled a good 75% of the planet just below his father. Still, he reminded himself that the Atlantean was the best choice. Being a Prince he had good control of his emotions and actions. While it was true Dick didn't think that Wally would fly off the handle at the news, he was…unpredictable.

So he had chosen Garth.

"It was just last week…"

And he said it all. Even the few days he had spent shuffling around his penthouse doing nothing important but cleaning, eating little, sleeping sporadically, etc…

At the end of it all Dick didn't know what expression Garth was wearing-just that he was silent. It didn't help that he himself was bent over, hair obstructing his vision as he tried to clear his thoughts while his hands curled into the comforter below him. Talking about things made them less scary right?

He didn't expect two arms to rise up and wrap themselves around his shoulders.

"Wow...I-hm."

They remained like that for a full minute before the acrobat pulled away and finally finished calming down. He spent thirty seconds on deep breathing and then-looked up.

His friend was wide eyed and staring at the ground. His arms had plopped back down onto the floor as he suddenly began blinking.

"Um…OK. Is this a thing? For surface dwellers? Because in my time here I haven't seen-"

"Normally, no."

A deep breath escaped Garth as he had a few jerking movements before he raised his head and stood up.

"So, you got a plan?"

"What?"

"You always have a plan."

"Not for this Garth! What do I do?"

"You're asking me?"

"Yes!"

"Aquaman's my father-not just my mentor so I can't relate. Shouldn't you be asking Roy about this?"

Dick's eyes fell into a mocking stare.

"Tell Roy about this? Do you have any idea what he'd do?"

"Kill the Bat?"

"Exactly."

"That's not the plan?"

"No!"

"So you don't want Batman dead."

"Of course not! Stop being ridiculous!"

"OK. So what do you want?"

"…"

"Dick?"

"I don't know. I'm still freaking out."

"Then find out."

"What?"

"OK, um…"

Garth cleared his throat, stood as straight as he could and raised his head proudly. Drawing on all the royal lessons he had received as a child he spoke clearly and calmly.

"You can't move on without finding out what your plan is for a response. So, open these blinds, take a shower, get a good meal in you, go outside for some exercise, answer the 200 or so messages everyone's been sending you and then-find out what you want. After that you can plan a response for your mentor. Whatever that may end up being."

"Garth?"

"Hmm?"

"What would you think if I actually-"

"So you are thinking about it then."

"AAAARRRRGGG!"

The acrobat slapped his hands over his eyes and fell backwards on the bed.

"Look do all of that- fix that pillow too it's bugging me-and then figure out what you want."

"But what would you think-"

"I think it's none of my business as long as he isn't locking you up somewhere…"

"…"

"What about the others? Donna's probably picked up some of this conversation you know."

"White noise generator in the hallway."

"What then why haven't I noticed-?"

"Bruce designed it specifically for Amazons-but not Atanteans. Something about their magic vs. your biochemistry."

"Oh!"

"That one's in the dining room."

Garth blew out a breath, "Of course."

Dick chuckled beneath his breath, finally pulling his hands off of his face.

"What about the others? I could tell them if you want?"

"…"

"…"

"Only if you want to, but if you do wait until you're all back at Titans Tower."

"AKA: as far as possible from Gotham."

"Ding! Ding! We have a winner!"

Garth shook his head humorously.

"You surface dwellers are so…peculiar. But I like you! OK, I'll see what I can do."

With that Garth left as normally as could, only turning around once partially to wave a goodbye.

Uncertain of how long he laid there the acrobat did manage to pull himself off of the bed and up onto his own feet. Crossing the carpet again towards the windows he began tugging at the strings that kept his blinds close. As typical as it was, the light of the afternoon sun blinded him a fair amount of lasting seconds before he blinked away the after image of faded bars. He distantly heard someone put his penthouse door back in place and some chatter that he chose to ignore. He took another habitual deep breath and managed to not trip his way to the bathroom. Yay!

One look in the mirror made him all the more eager to jump into the shower and get started on the list Garth had given him. What the Atlantean had said to get the others to leave, he would never know but-if it worked-eh?

1. Open blinds

2. Take a shower

3. Get a good meal in

4. Go outside for some exercise

5. Answer everyone's messages

6. Find out what you want.

...He would.

Three days later, he walked into his living room after his first patrol since he had gotten straightened out, to find Bruce Wayne waiting for him.

Back in Gotham Bruce was huffing at a frowning Clark Kent through a webcam as he tried to ignore the conversation and focus on the paperwork before him. He had been throwing himself into work when a new business proposition from Lex Corp had something in its miscellaneous budget referred to as an OTC-that had some distant connection with ARM. After that black market connection in New York, he didn't plan to take chances with this one.

"Bruce, I'm just concerned."

"Clark, I'm at work-my board of directors would be beside themselves if they saw me using this line for personal business."

"It was the only way to reach you."

"If it gets you off the line; it's something that concerns Luthor."

"While that's alarming-I'm talking about your behavior at the Tower."

"…Consider it me being happy about being ahead of schedule."

"Right, like I believe that. There's just been this…light about you and the others are worried."

"I'm hanging up now."

"Hey wait-!"

Click!

Apparently if he wanted more info on this OTC-he'd have to do it via Wayne Enterprises. Business request.

Not his favorite thing to do-but reasonable nonetheless. He reached out to scoop up the tablet Clark had speaking with him through and brought up a blank e-mail template. Thankfully this had been so many solutions so many times he could manage the package request layout without even thinking. The only thing that ever varied was the location. Setting it in Gotham would be too wary, so he selected a high raise restaurant in Metropolis. Give Luthor a false sense of security and have Oracle watch the meeting.

He took the pause to think back over everything. He had Batwoman keeping an eye on Mrs. Fields. The night that the Commissioner had had some files on the project had been…that night. Kate had been the only one to show up after an hour. Maybe Bruce felt a bit bad about it but Batwoman was good at what she did and could handle keeping it on the low. Huntress and Oracle were away with the Birds of Prey. Batgirl was keeping Damian company at the Manor. So, they were probably training. Even Spoiler was throwing in effort-keeping an eye on the remnants of the Babylon and Enigma gangs. While the gangs were dissolved, they did have a number of loose runners. Robin was off with the Teen Titans in San Francisco for a meeting. Jason was-Jason. Alfred was at the Manor, keeping the place pristine and Leslie was overseeing construction on an extension of her clinic thanks to a recent donation.

And that was everyone but-

Hmm…

He hadn't sent Nightwing or Dick Grayson a message but knew everyone else had.

Besides, he had no intention of doing this over the phone or through text. This had to be face to face if he wanted it to be real. He was aware that his actions had probably set his partner off balance but again, even if was getting tedious in his mind; he wanted it to be real and there and forever. Or well! However long they had left as humans among gods and meta-humans.

Most of his colleagues and coworkers would call this ridiculous. And it did lack all logic.

He finished the e-mail package and sent it off, also requesting the date of October 20th. He doubted he'd get a meeting on that specific date but any time before December would be more…profitable.

With that he shut the tablet down and stood up, shifting back and forth on his feet for a few minutes. Content he reached across the desk, scooping up the fourth quarter performance reports, the tablet and a few fountain pens; placing them all into his briefcase gently. He closed and locked it with a held breath. Now, he shook out his right arm and reminded himself of his list.

October 8th. Step 6.

As much as they both didn't look forward to them. It was time they had a talk.

After calling the Manor to inform Alfred of his whereabouts he insisted the butler remain home (he could drive to NY himself), but Bruce was a bit worried. He had no intention of hiding this from his caretaker of all people though he was cautious if the Pennyworth Powers had already seen through him as they had before.

A quick goodbye to his secretary and Fox and Bruce was on the road headed for New York.

For all that Bruce had planned to take this slowly-and he had-it had been months since he came to this strange realization and it was time to act. The remainder of Gotham and beginning of New York passed by in a shower of faded lights and dusty buildings. The only thing the billionaire did habitually besides drive was constantly check his watch.

Check 1: 10:00am

Check 2: 10:09am

Check 3: 10:34am

Check 4: 11:00am

Check 5: 11:04am

Check 6: 11:10am

Check 7: 11:33am

Bruce growled and reprimanded himself. He would arrive in time. There was no reason to-

Check 8: 11:39am

Damn.

Nonetheless, he did arrive before noon but strangely found the penthouse empty. Bypassing the code for the security system was simple. He still had administrative access. It was proof that Dick still trusted him and he took pride in that as he glided into the living room. The talk had to happen today. So he had to wait. No problem.

Bruce removed his jacket, hanging it on a hook on the far wall. He considered his appearance for a moment before removing his tie as well and hanging it up over the jacket. This wasn't a business deal after all. With that thought he turned and walked towards the couch while he reached up to undo the buttons on his sleeves and fold them back behind his elbows. More casual-perhaps it would put his partner more at ease. Settling down he took note of the room. While being in Alfred's life tended to make you more tidy than usual, the spotless and clean aura of the room seemed a bit unusual. Far from unwelcome-but unusual. The curtains and blinds were open to let in the sunlight, which was lying in slanted boards across the floor, the walls were free of any stray marks or dust, the couch and loveseat smelled of lavender, the bookshelves were polished and gleaming, the low coffee table and couch side table shined with a recent application of something citrus scented, the media wall had all the wires to the television and media players tacked together along the baseboards and even the door to the bathroom had received a new coat of paint recently.

Well then-

He was debating on looking over the rest of the place and possibly slipping into the transporter to visit the Night-Tower when-

"B-Bruce?"

Dark blue eyes turned around and landed on the thin form of an acrobat at the entrance of the hallway.

"Dick, hello."

The younger man's eyes were wide, his face open, his hands clasped together in front of his chest, his breath short and knees far from strait.

"Uh, hi."

Bruce cleared his throat, "We need to talk."

Apparently those were some kind of trigger words because the acrobat suddenly relaxed. His arms fell to his sides, he straightened his posture and his face fell into a neutral smile. But strangely it looked genuine. Still, the billionaire was not taking any chances here. He gestured to the far end of the couch which the acrobat smiled sheepishly at. Said acrobat bypassed the offered spot though and sat in the middle beside his mentor.

OK. Well-it was his couch.

"Hi."

He sounded a little breathless still despite the outward appearance.

"We already did that."

"True. So, what's up?"

"You know."

Dick took a deep breath as his once happy smile turned into a frown. Ah, so it had been a defense mechanism!

"OK."

"You don't have to say anything. My only purpose here is to prove that I mean this."

Bruce turned the full power of his eyes onto his partner's and reached out to brush a hand over his arm. While the acrobat didn't jerk away he did tense up, but a little flexing of the billionaire's fingers against a sore muscle from one of his sporadic day patrols was…nice. He had just gotten in and pulled on a t-shirt and jeans so his lower arms were bare-free to be touched.

"What do you want from me Bruce?"

"I thought it was obvious."

The younger man felt his face reddening.

"Listen, I won't keep you long but-I need you to know that I want this. Want you."

Dick gulped.

"Do I frighten you?"

A glance to the side and then the ground before a shake of the head.

"Dick…"

The acrobat couldn't help it, his eyes shot up and met the dark blue like bullets hitting together in midair.

He cursed the desire to want to fall into them like he was a little kid giggling over the fluff of a new warm fleece comforter.

"This is awkward," Dick murmured.

"Only if you want it to be."

The younger man pulled his gaze away and over to the bars of light on the carpet.

"No Bruce. This IS awkward. No matter what."

"…It had to happen."

"Yeah. I know."

Silence reigned for a full 15 seconds.

Finally Bruce got to the point.

"Look I realized this months ago."

"What?"

Light blue eyes stared back in shock.

"Listen! I don't know why this has happened-"

"Are you sure it isn't brain damage?"

"Yes, I'm positive it's not brain damage. I already had a CAT scan. Now, stop interrupting. I realized this long ago and I've done everything I can to logic it away, but it's not working."

The younger man lowered his eyes in a disbelief glare, "And did you consider not saying or doing anything at all?"

"Yes, but my research shows that it always proves disastrous. So NOT saying anything was only a countdown to conflict."

"This isn't a conflict?"

Bruce shook his head before he said, "Not for me. I know what I feel and I know what I want."

Taking the initiative Bruce slid his fingers up his partner's bicep-eliciting a shiver of pleasure from the younger man. Feeling bold, he leaned in and pressed his lips against Dick's cheek.

"I love you and I want you. Remember that."

OK, the acrobat's blush was definitely down his neck now!

Dick shot off of the couch and wrapped his arms around himself.

"This is too much Bruce," he breathed shakily.

"I assumed it would be. I'll be on my way then but don't relax. I have no intention of letting this go because I want it and I want it to be real."

"Please leave."

"Very well."

Dick picked up the sound of Bruce retrieving his jacket and then going to the door. He even heard it open once before the billionaire had to throw out the last words of the conversation.

"I love you."

Damn!

Even pushed over his limits Dick didn't let himself get back to where he had been; he spent the remainder of the day digesting his mentor's words and keeping a hand where Bruce had pressed a kiss to his heated cheek.

As for the remainder of October he spent his time fighting crime solely in New York City, avoiding the Justice Society of America and Outsiders while simultaneously still responding to the messages his days of solitary confinement had built up.

He had to…

On the final day he fell to his knees before the chill of his refrigerator and admitted that he needed help with this.

Climbing up to a balcony at Wayne Manor late at night was not a new experience for Dick Grayson (far from it) but this time it wasn't to sneak a worried glance into Damian's room or a need to talk with Tim. In fact, both of their rooms were dark and quiet from what the acrobat had heard was a long day for the two.

Three specific lights were on though, the front foyer, the gym and Alfred's room. The front foyer light was small and stayed on nearly all of the time, he had easily picked up the sounds of Bruce working out in the gym and he could spot the thin shadow that was Alfred Pennyworth moving around. It was this room he wanted. So, Dick pulled himself up over the balcony banister and took a deep breath. He knew Alfred had already heard him but was apparently going to give him the time to knock properly. Not that that he was entering the house properly but-he wanted to avoid Bruce. The acrobat reached out and knocked on the wooden frame that lined the blinded and curtained windows of the doorways.

He had only to wait a mere five seconds before the doors were pulled in and pushed out sideways and there in all possible butler-like glory was Alfred.

"Nightwing? Won't you come in Sir?"

The young man nodded and stepped inside, the butler closing the doors behind him and checking the security of the curtains and blinds. Once assured the two were out of sight, they stepped away from the door and Nightwing reached up to remove his mask.

"Shall I admit that I was expecting you Master Dick?"

Dick smiled, "It doesn't surprise me Alfred. You really are the best of us."

The butler, still suited up despite the late hour, motioned to the far end of the room where a tea set was perched delicately atop a golden serving tray on a small, two-seat, wooden garden table.

"Would you join me for some tea?"

"Can anyone deny your tea?"

"Master Bruce and Master Tim do a right fair job of it in favor of coffee," Alfred informed his charge as the duo made their way over and sat at the small serving table.

"I assume you're here to speak to me about something important."

"Well, yes. I am," Dick breathed as he was handed a steaming cup of peach, hoping that there were no drugs in the thing that would force him to oversleep.

"Something concerning Master Bruce I believe?" the butler said before he took a drink from his own cup.

The younger man finally inhaled a bit of the warm, dark amber hued liquid, feeling a bit of a spice hit his tongue before he swallowed.

"Well, yes. It does mainly concern Bruce and the rest concerns well-everyone else. I didn't know who else to talk to about this."

"So, something you couldn't tell Master Bruce, Miss Gordon or Mr. Kent I deduce."

"Uh, yeah."

He didn't even want to think about the possible reactions from Barbara or Clark. Never mind meeting this head on with Bruce himself. Which he was obviously going to have to do soon anyways-even if he didn't want to.

"Alright, then what is troubling you sir?"

"Alfred, you love Bruce. No matter what-right?"

"Of course I do."

Great! Now Alfred looked horribly confused and his voice grew suddenly sharp.

"Has he done something I do not know about that I need to know of?"

Dick swallowed another quick mouthful of tea, "Maybe."

"Master Dick?"

Great there was the Alfred-sternness no one was immune to!

"Well, it was the 3rd of this month, we had just come back from a patrol when Bruce gave me this…folder…"

And that's how the next ten minutes went, Dick relaying the story to the butler. Surprisingly, or not-surprisingly the elderly man didn't raise an eyebrow at any point of the story. In fact he smiled amusingly at the fact that Bruce had strapped the acrobat to a chair. It was only when the younger man finished the tale that Alfred had any reaction.

"…then he leaned in and…kissed me."

That's what made the normally stoic butler stop mid-movement, falter and spill a few drops of tea onto the clean table top before he could right himself, though he did recover quickly.

"Alfred?"

"He kissed you?"

"After he said he loved me."

The butler took a very uncharacteristically deep breath, "Bruce, he said he loved you and then kissed you?"

"Yes," Dick admitted and stared down into the deep amber liquid but didn't move to take another drink, biting his lip instead.

He didn't want to look up at the confused/shocked look that Alfred was wearing. It was just too much. It wasn't like he was expecting his elderly caretaker to take it in stride but that damn silence was killing him.

Because he was just quiet.

Freaking just-quiet!

"I'm going to guess that these…advances were more than innocent 'platonic acts' of affection?"

Now that Dick thought back on it, it wasn't like his mentor had been violent or forceful. The kiss hadn't been ravishing to a high degree. It had been soft, warm and comforting. Even if it meant more than the affection that normally existed between the two of them, it wasn't a bad kiss. Bruce hadn't been forcing the kiss on him. The restraints had stopped Dick from punching the older man in surprise but Bruce had specifically not tightened them to hold his partner in place. If there had been any danger, the acrobat could have easily slipped his hands out of the straps and took to action.

"Yeah, it meant more," Dick whispered and forced himself to glance up and over at the butler.

Alfred's lips were drawn into a tight line and he was obviously thinking-hard.

"Who have you told?"

"Just you and Garth. I have a feeling he's told the Titans something though. Just not all of it."

"The League," the butler spoke up with a smirk that was half sad and half amused.

"Bruce told the League!" the acrobat nearly jumped up out of his seat in shock.

It was only when Alfred reached out and curled a hand over his arm that he managed to calm down a smidgen.

"No, but Mr. Kent has reported to me that 'Batman' is acting differently during meetings and missions."

Dick put down his tea cup and buried his face into his hands before something about the sentence made him raise his head in curiosity. He probably didn't need to ask out loud…

"Yes Master Dick, he reports that 'Batman' seems-happy."

"You're kidding me right? That kiss was like five-seconds at the beginning of this month. Might as well be a month ago!"

Alfred frowned again and cleared his throat, retracting his hand from his charge's arm.

"It actually has been quite refreshing here to see Master Bruce achieve such a…zenith."

The acrobat felt his shoulders slump, "So, it really made him happy?"

"I assume so but Master Dick, he really-?"

"Yes."

Alfred took another deep breath and cupped his hands together before raising them to his chin.

"Well, what do you think of it?"

The young man shook his head near violently, "I don't know what to think Alfred! I'm confused beyond any confusion that I've ever felt confused about before! On no, look what he's doing to me!"

"Calm down," the butler said lowly, reaching over to curl a hand over his charge's arm once again.

"I needed to talk to someone."

"Well alright, when he did-kiss you, what did you feel?"

"Shock."

"Were you frightened?"

"I've never been scared of Bruce or Batman."

"Master Dick," Alfred said sharply but lowly, "I need assurance that he didn't-"

"Oh, no! No Alfred. He wasn't forceful or demanding…it was just a quick, sweet kiss."

The elderly butler raised a sudden interested eyebrow, "Sweet?"

The blush spread all the way to his chest, Dick knew it. Alfred wouldn't have needed to point it out; his brain had skipped the moment he had realized he had said 'sweet'. Then again, there was no harm in assuring his old caretaker that Bruce hadn't overstepped any boundaries that would lead to physical…harm or discomfort.

"He didn't force anything."

"Yet he strapped you to a chair, restraining your wrists?"

"He said he didn't want me to punch him and they weren't really restraining, I could have gotten out of them and my legs were free if I suddenly needed to fight him off."

"So when he kissed you, you didn't slip your hands free and punch him?"

"Well, no I was too shocked."

"Did you want him to stop?"

"I don't know!" Dick shouted as he quickly folded his arms on the table in front of him and buried his face in them, "I'm so confused Alfred."

"Why specifically Master Dick? I believe it's quite clear what he feels for you."

The acrobat slowly raised his head to stare at the butler in shock.

"He-he really does love me? Like, romantic love?"

"I believe that is quite clear."

"What do you think about it Alfred?"

The butler glanced to the side at the wall for six long seconds before speaking, "I am…surprised, somewhat happy, a little angry, extremely worried and confused as well."

"He didn't hurt me," Dick protested.

"You would lie to me for him and we all know it," the butler said with a scoff.

The acrobat's face burned in anger instead of embarrassment for once, "I'm not lying!"

"I know dear boy, I'm simply pointing out that even now-after he's shocked you beyond belief-your loyalty to him remains."

That- made Dick pale and reach for his tea again. It was surprisingly still quite warm. What was Alfred's secret with it? Perhaps there was a hidden heating plate cleverly built into this table?

Or maybe Alfred had invisible heat vision! Who knew?

"So, why are you here this evening Master Dick? Are you looking for a second reassurance of Master Bruce's feelings towards you? Are you here for my approval? Or…are you here to figure out what you feel in return?"

"I-I guess I am…all of the above. It's not that I don't trust Bruce but you have a neutral view that I can't see. Secondly, yes in a way I'd like your approval. I wouldn't want to be the reason you walk away from Bruce. He needs you."

"So I leaving in light of you…returning his affections?"

"I never wanted to disappoint you."

"You never have young master and if you choose to pursue a-relationship with Master Bruce-it will be your choice. I cannot choose for you. If you truly are in love with one another then my opinion should not matter. No one else's should either."

"Alfred?"

"Hmm?"

"You're the greatest."

The butler smiled and reached over to pat his charge on his shoulder, "Why thank you. Tell me though; do you have romantic feelings for him?"

"I know I love him."

"-but it is not enough?"

"I've loved Bruce since the first day we met-but as a guardian, a mentor, a role model, a hero, a partner and…a best friend."

"If that is what you feel-then you should tell him outright. He may enjoy the feeling now, but hiding the truth will only hurt him."

"That's just it Alfred. I'm not sure that's what I feel. Well OK, I do feel all of that but…"the acrobat trailed off and bit his lower lip in thought of how to phrase it.

"You feel that there might be something else."

"No, I KNOW there's something else I just-"

"You don't know what it is?"

Dick sighed, "Exactly. I mean, what if it is romantic-love? Shouldn't I take the chance? Then again, what if it's not? What if it's just appreciation for everything he's done for me?"

"I believe if it was Master Dick, then you would already know it. For every type of love you hold for him, they all have a label-correct? You have identified them?"

"Yes?"

"Then this feeling is new?"

"Uh-huh."

"It appears to me that if this new feeling was any of those things then it would not-in fact- be 'new'."

"So, it really could be it?"

"I'm not a professional young master but if you wish to discover what this feeling is then indeed you must take the chance."

"It's been nearly a month since he kissed me and told me he loved me."

"Has a month been long enough?"

The acrobat glanced down and took an extremely long drink of his tea, letting the spices burst against his tongue thinking…thinking hard.

He did love him. He did. He'd give him anything he could.

He needed to tell Bruce. Bruce needed to know. Perhaps the move in mind was feverous but he'd been flinging himself at the ground since he was a toddler without a net.

Time to make a move and this would be the perfect time.

Putting the cup down Dick thanked Alfred and stood up to leave.

"Any messages for Master Bruce?" Alfred inquired as the acrobat reapplied his mask to his face and took a step towards the balcony doorway.

"Tell him to meet me at Otto Drexel's Penthouse at midnight. It's time we really 'talked'-or something like that."

Batman grappled up the side of a very reminiscent building at midnight on October 30th.

Reminiscent as Otto Drexel had owned the Cleopatra necklace. It had been one of their first missions together and their first battle against the Joker of all villains. Mr. Drexel was long dead though (killed years ago by a skin disease) and his penthouse was run-down. It wasn't so broken as to be unstable but enough that no one wanted to enter the place. Hell, there were even some haunting ghost and demon stories about the penthouse. As he didn't make consistent trips back to the place, the detective couldn't exactly say the rumors were false. After all, he had spent too many years exchanging punches with magic, gods and the undead for him to discount anything.

Still, shacking up old skeletons was not his purpose here.

Alfred had delivered the message to him in the gym a mere hour ago.

He got it. He did. Nightwing…Dick thought he might need some time and perhaps the acrobat needed some time as well. After all, it would have been foolish to take the step of revealing…the truth…to Dick and not expect something like this to occur. If anything happened…it would be the younger man's choice. Perhaps the Bat was a bit possessive of what he perceived was HIS but he found that once he started caring for another-it was a damn drug! He couldn't fight the addiction to ensure that his family was safe.

Dick Grayson…was always the core of that.

Bruce remembered the kidnappings and ransoms when Dick had been but a child. Even if it HAD been inconvenient, Batman had still turned himself over to the gangsters, had played the Joker's rules and had gambled with others' lives. All for the boy. All for the one who had meant the world-meant everything to him!

"The missing records!"

"He had it hidden in the table leg. Looks like your number's up, Hill."

"Ah!"

"Not yet it isn't! One move and I'll blow this brat's head off!"

"Don't worry about me Batman!"

"Sorry Robin. You're worth much more to me than those records-Okay, Hill. You win!"

He had been so terribly lonely before that-hadn't he?

Batman took a deep breath that no one would have been able to see and finally pushed open the door to the rooftop entrance. (Wouldn't Alfred be so proud of him? He was using a door!) He was early-as usual. So apparently it was true that the acrobat needed some of his own time to himself. That was fine, even if the Dark Knight had secretly hoped that his squire might have acted differently and would have been waiting for him. Still, it wasn't fair to ask the younger man to be someone he was not and that included all the little habits, traits and quirks that he was made of.

The detective filled his time by scanning the penthouse and thinking.

A customized sofa that had once been revered as golden now sat as depressed, faded sunshine in the corner. He wondered who technically owned the place now. As far as he knew Otto Drexel had had no younger family members to inherit the place. A fair guess would be that the city council had just up and forgotten it when the property deed fell into their laps. Maybe Bruce Wayne could see to purchasing it?

All in all the large floor of the penthouse was not much more than a sitting room, though the couch was the only furniture left save for a pile of wood and cloth by the locked stairwell that could have been a chair if he cared enough to examine the pieces. The case that had held the Cleopatra necklace all of those years ago was gone as well and although no trace of the steel and iron case remained on the one non-windowed wall, there were specks of glass shining off of the light from outside. Yes light, for across the street a pizzeria's sign was giving quite a neon glow to the area through the large windows.

A presence!

"I'd say 'Oh how the years go by' but that'd be rather trite."

Batman turned slowly and spied the very being he had been thinking of earlier, standing on the windowsill of one of the larger bay windows.

"You're late," Batman pointed out.

Nightwing shrugged before jumping down into the room and landing on his feet lightly.

"Hey I'm early for me."

"True."

And just like those damn moments in stories, this one was all too realistic. The cliché uncomfortable silence descended between them settling itself between the shadows of the room and the invading neon red and green lights outside.

Like in the past, Batman wasn't going to start the conversation. He was never good at words and he consented in this to leave the job to the professional before him.

"Well, hi," the younger man started uneasily.

Batman said nothing and that made the acrobat sigh. This was not going to be easy. So, Nightwing leaned back against the still open window and pressed his lips together tightly in thought. This…couldn't go the same way as their other conversations or this…this thing between them…would also go nowhere. It would fall into the pattern of getting along, then a crisis, Bruce keeping a secret, the liar revealed and then disbanding. It was one stupid, stupid, STUPID pattern!

He had to say something that would start the conversation, would get Bruce Wayne/Batman to talk, would get rid of the uncomfortable silence and get Bruce to answer some questions. Feeling the tall building's slight wind pick at the back of his neck Nightwing closed his eyes, took a deep breath and spoke:

"I love you."

And the result WAS surprising. The acrobat suddenly felt a great weight crushing him! His middle back was pinched by the edge of the window behind him and his upper torso was bent slightly outside of the window. His eyes opened as his hands scrambled to hold to the edges of a familiar warm cloak over wide shoulders. Bruce-Batman was pressed up against him.

And that was- a little much!

More than he had expected as the edge of Batman's cowl was pressing into the side of his cheek as strong arms clamped around his lower back. OK, he had not been expecting that! Nor did he know that Bruce could move that fast!

"Batman," he gasped and pressed at the shoulders beneath his hands.

He did not let go. OK then…Nightwing supposed he could work with this. Somehow. He did manage to maneuver enough that his mid-back was no longer being pinched by the windowsill even if he was still somewhat leaning outside of the building.

"Mean it," Batman ordered into his ear.

Nightwing bit his lip. Oh no! Nothing like THAT was going to happen now! No way! Frowning, he pushed at the shoulders beneath his hands again and surprisingly managed about two inches of space.

Who-Ra!

"Batman. I love you, you know that."

And THAT seemed to act as a literal slap in the face for the Dark Knight because he promptly let go of the acrobat and retreated a good ten steps back.

Stupid. Stupid! STUPID! Why the hell had he done that! In Bruce's mind it was like Batman was lecturing him. If he had approached it logically from the beginning he would have realized that the acrobat's words were NOT confessions of…romantic affection.

Damn!

And he was ashamed to admit that there was an urge to release moisture from his eyes in light of the revelation.

"I see," he barked instead.

Get out. Get away. Go back to the cave. Reset mental and emotional barriers. Time would set them back onto a 'workable relationship' as soon as the next crisis hit and finished taking a bloody lawn mower over everyone's chest! After all, that's how this worked and how it would continue to work.

-but then that begged the question: was it simply routine or insanity?

Nightwing almost called out: 'Bruce/Batman wait!'-except that that felt like a very cliché action and really felt like the wrong thing to say. After all he was talking to Batman. Even an abandoned building was too possibly public to go mask-less as this part of Gotham was still very populate. If Dick Grayson was going to get anything through to Bruce Wayne it had to be strained through both Nightwing and Batman to reach the stubborn man beneath the cowl.

And there in lay the problem. It seemed that there was only one way to get to the brooding billionaire.

"You know, if at any point in time you wanted to kiss me-I'd let you."

That got a bit of the hidden man's attention as the bat-figure did stop making his way to the balcony door. Unfortunately, he was still turned away. Though, the method of extreme confessions and words did seem to be making it through the vigilante-covers to the people beneath the masks.

The acrobat continued, "I would have let you before. I'd let you now. Hell, I'd let you anytime beyond this moment."

That did get the lenses of the Bat turned back towards him. Nightwing tried to imagine the dark blue eyes beneath them-but it always resulted in a double-edged sword strike. He couldn't help it! He'd seen the man for far too long as his mentor and closest companion. Unlike most of those friend romance stories he had read in the past he now had to look back and give the characters props- crossing the line from friend to more-than-friend when you're already so close that you'd give your life for the other, was very difficult.

And that-that was the answer to the question everyone had an opinion of:

What were Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson to each other?

It was simple…

So simple and still so complex.

"If you want to, go ahead; I won't stop you."

It was a really strange night when Batman of all people was jumping at a moment's notice, though perhaps not entirely NOT Bruce Wayne when he was presented with an enriching opportunity. After all, in the event's own perverted way, who turned away someone who offered themselves?

It was still a surprise for the younger man though when Batman stomped forward, jerked him away from the window and then pressed him against the side wall. In the back of Dick's mind he was kind of yelling-or maybe it was Nightwing yelling.

Because why the hell was he letting Bruce/Batman manhandle him?

No! Not happening!

With that, the acrobat hooked a foot behind Batman's ankle and pressed forward. Ugh! If only the movement hadn't consequently pressed their chests together-symbol to symbol as his hand struggled for some placement to apply back-off pressure. Nightwing managed to get enough free space to slide away from his mentor.

"You said-"

"No, I said-ugh never mind! That's not the point!"

Batman took a step towards the window.

Nightwing sighed. OK, no win situation. He had to fold a bit more if he wanted to keep the older man in conversation-which he did. But why did it have to be this?

"Fine," the acrobat grumbled before walking forward and spreading his arms out in invitation.

It was better admittedly as Batman was now NOT tackling him against the nearest wall but nevertheless the detective did reach out to pull the younger man to him. Gosh when had the Dark Knight gone from 'the-perfect-portrait-of-unapproachableness' to a freaking 'cuddle-bunny'?

Nightwing mentally groaned. This could only happen to him!

He bet Superman didn't have to put up with this!

Then again if it was Superman in this moment, in his place, he would probably end up with a kryptonite dagger in the back or through the eye. Ouch!

…Note to self: …Don't give Bruce ideas.

Taking a deep breath the acrobat tried to talk again but instead of talking about those oh-so-important issues that surrounded the situation he cursed his vocal chords as his words fell back into their old pattern of using attempts at humor to avoid an emotional moment.

"Are you sure you're the same dark, broody figure I know and love?"

Well OK, it was meant to be a fall back into familiar humor to avoid emotional moments but he'd just had to tack on the ending of that sentence! Although, on some level, perhaps that was a good thing because now he didn't have to speak at all! Bruce-err Batman was pressing their lips together. No, the younger man did not feel any shame in it. Sure, it was still weird but he guessed that perhaps he might have adapted to it sort-of maybe…

How long had they been here? Half an hour? And he was what-two sentences into everything he needed to say?

Hm, maybe this was Batman's strategy though? It certainly was a perfect example of why the two of them could not have any conversations on a normal basis. Bruce had the patience to out-wait a rock and Dick had the ability to out-talk a teen-message-board. Either way, it was apparently not to going to be Batman that ended the kiss so once again, Nightwing took up the job of pulling back. In a way he was sorry as he had never kissed back and wouldn't kiss back until they had this damn talk and he worked out these…emotions!

"Look can you please just listen for a minute?" the acrobat begged but saw all too well that Batman was building walls even as they were still embracing.

Honestly, it didn't seem like it would matter if Nightwing pointed out how uncomfortable this was making him. As for the talking portion of this…talk-it looked like he was going to have to fall back on his first plan: exasperated confessions!

"This is the scary part B…I'd let you do anything."

The words acted as another slap to the face as Batman released his hold on Nightwing's waist, pushed him away and then stepped back, aligning his gaze behind the lenses of his cowl to the floor. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't even look at him.

"If you wanted to kiss me, kill me or just have your way with me. I'd let you," the acrobat continued, finding himself back in the original position he had had by the window he had entered the penthouse through.

Talk about back to square one, even if Batman was technically standing closer than he had been at first.

Unfortunately, behind the mask, Dick had turned his eyes towards the side of the window where he could make out the seal that had long ago decayed. So, he didn't see his mentor jerk up strait in shock from the statement or practically fall over his own feet as he attempted to take a step forward. Hell, even Batman felt that the lenses in his cowl had widened in shock along with his eyes.

Because Dick Grayson would if Bruce Wayne wanted it. That was scary-beyond belief scary. Creepy. Repulsive. Submissive. Dark. Gothic. Borderline suicidal.

Had they adopted The Addams Family moniker somewhere? And if they had, when had it happened?

"I have questions," Nightwing said, finally looking up at his mentor who had managed a bit more semblance of control.

The Dark Knight nodded and took a single step back-not to run-but for enough of a back draft wind so that his cape fell in front of him to hide his symbol and suit from sight. Even now it wasn't that the statements had to be extreme after this moment, somehow they got through the cowl and to Bruce. Now, unlike popular belief the billionaire was not nervous of what would/could occur between the two of them. If something happened, they would figure it out. They both believed that. If nothing happened, they would settle into a state of at least not-being-at-each-other's-throats. That worked.

"When did you uh…" Nightwing trailed off.

"June."

"OK and when did you realize it was more than…?"

"June."

"And it's…?"

"Real."

"OK, what is it you want from this?"

"You."

OK, Batman was on a roll with his one word answers! The younger man took a deep breath and fought off his blush. New strategy. He needed a new strategy!

…why could he not think of one!

"Why do you- I mean-what is-ugh!"

The acrobat slapped a hand over the thin skin of his forehead, letting himself enjoy the sting for a few mere moments as his eyes closed. He released a sigh of air, let his hand slide down the contours of his face before it dropped down to hang by his waist and reopened his eyes. Batman was standing stock still and even if they were covered by the lenses of the cowl Nightwing knew those dark blue eyes were aimed at him. Waiting for something…another question perhaps?

He didn't have any other questions though. Sure, if this evolved into something there would be certain factors that needed to be put into place but those could only be addressed IF he agreed to-whatever the hell this was.

-and truthfully, why was he still questioning it?

Batman had made his intentions very clear from the start. Nightwing shouldn't need a further explanation. For a moment he wondered why his mentor hadn't pointed it out as it was rather obvious and he loved pointing out obvious things that other people had missed.

He needed to stop; it was annoying even him now plus-Batman was still waiting.

The younger man inhaled a deep breath and released it. He planned rather quickly. He would walk over, reach out, tangle his hands into the excess cloth of Batman's cape and finally-

He managed one step before something stopped him. Something he couldn't identify and something that made Batman move forward one step himself. Perhaps that same invisible force had stopped him too? It seemed the tables had turned though as Batman spoke.

"Frightened?"

Light blue eyes, hidden behind white lenses, went to the floor as their owner answered.

"No, of course not. I've never been afraid of you. Either one of you."

"Unclear?"

Nightwing shook his head, "You've been quite clear Boss. I get it."

"Yes?"

Funny, Batman almost sounded meek there…and Batman was apparently on a roll with his one word questions as well.

Nightwing said nothing.

"No?

Nothing.

"Maybe?" Batman said with a strict nod.

Yeah, still a freaking maybe!

In Batman's mind yeah-it was annoying beyond belief. A yes or a no-that's all he wanted! Then again, maybe leaving him permanently would have been the smart option for his partner? To have left the Batcave that night and never looked back or even just pretending it didn't happen? The Dark Knight wouldn't forget it…his mind was like a steel trap he was self-aware of that. But still-

"Time?" Batman inquired.

"What?"

"Time?"

He could see it. His partner needed time-more time to figure this out.

..OK…

The older vigilante heard his younger partner gulp before Nightwing turned around completely-facing the open window of the penthouse-his hand muscles already tightening in preparation beneath his glove to fire his grapple towards the pizza place across the street.

"I said it wrong!" Batman suddenly called out and took a deep breath after it made his partner go stock-still.

"What?" the younger man whispered.

"I love you but…"

Silence.

More silence.

Then-

"What!"

"I'm IN love with you."

Nightwing heard no more. He left in hurry.

Random Poll on Anonymous polls NET

(Poll Live: October 31st 3:14am)

[Batman] by Rightwing38

Batman?

-Yes

-No

Comments (6) [+691 More-Click to Expand]

Macy411

Oh la la! The Dark Knight!

CaseNCheck

I mean-who wouldn't?

AmethystOne'

Hey everyone-I just made $800 in one hour after watching this video. Take a look yourself then come back around to send me a big thank you!

Free_Stream_101 rovIII

RedRedRavage

Rightwing38 or AmethystOne' I can't tell who's trolling more.

CaseNCheck

I believe they're doing an equal amount of trolling.

FireKiteKit

Check it again peeps this site is nothing but trolls. :p

(Poll Closed: October 31st 11:40pm)

[Batman]by Rightwing38

Batman?

-Yes

-No

[Display Results]

Leaning against the Bat-Cycle on Ford Avenue Nightwing turned off his phone and slipped it into the hidden compartment between the gas gauge and speedometer before breathing deeply and closing his eyes behind his mask. His right hand drifted up to press gloved knuckles against his lip as he tried to breathe. Tonight.

The area was already secured so he continued to breathe and let his muscles relax. Memories hit like tennis balls bouncing back and always striking his mind with increased force.

"I warn you. I lead a perilous life."

"I'm not afraid."

Deep breath.

"Wow!..What hit me? The Empire State Building?"

"Good thing you have a thick head of hair. It cushioned the blow."

"Bruce…"

BANG!

"Uh!"

"Look! I got him! I got the Batman!"

"BATMAN! YOU MURDERERS!"

CRASH!

"YOU'VE KILLED MY FRIEND!"

CRUNCH!

"AH!"

"Get him!"

Splash! Thump!

"He's back from the grave!"

"Batman-Alive!"

"…Batman..."

"The dirty rats! They tried to kill you! I'd like to-"

"There'll be plenty of time for that later. Let's get away from here first."

"What…"

"I thought I'd find you here Robin. I want you to team up with me…I'll make you a better crime-fighter than Batman!"

"What-? I'm sorry Mr. Marvel, but Batman and I are partners. I'd never leave him!"

"…have you done to me?"

"Because, Batman, anyone who drinks from the immortal spring will die the instant he sets foot outside this valley."

…

"Taking Robin out? If you thugs hurt him-"

"Aw, relax, Batman. We're just gonna give the kid some water. He must be thirsty by now…"

Every moment. Every gesture. Every word.

"You know I'd rather lose both arms than you."

And now everything was…

"I love you."

Eyes snapped open and previously caught breath was released.

"I'm IN love with you."

Every. Single. Confession.

"Bruce…"

Nightwing gripped the handles of the Bat-Cycle tightly, brought up the GPS screen and sped off-half cursing the date. It had to have been tonight.

…but it would HAVE to be tonight.

Nightwing dropped down into Crime Alley, making no effort to hide the scrape of his boots against the mix of curbed sediment and shredded cement.

The dark figure at the far end of the alley remained in his kneeling position, keeping his eyes upon the wreath he had placed before him. He did this every year, leaving a wreath in the honor and memory of his parents. Then he would close his eyes and remember said night, trying and failing to insert some semblance of his current self into his past self on the off chance he would remember or notice something that he had never seen or noticed before. As with time though, the memories faded. The details were all the same…never changing and the scene was so much simpler than everyone made it out to be.

The arrival of his protégé set him off though. It was true that he knew though. He knew Dick came back to Crime Alley on this same night every year. Even when they were fighting he hadn't missed those years either. The difference was that neither Dick Grayson nor Nightwing ever intervened. He had always remained atop one of the two surrounding buildings if he were out as Nightwing and if in civilian mode, Dick Grayson always lingered at one of the ends of said alley.

When Batman finally rose to his feet and turned around he found that Nightwing had already moved to where the Batmobile was parked in the center of the alley.

Given that Crime Alley rested in a part of Gotham that lay long abandoned by its population of average citizens the area was both quiet, allowing for easy sound amplification, and clear of the city's normal thick sky toxin. The area wasn't dark enough to make out any stars but the moon was in full view on this night.

Batman glanced up long enough to follow the strongest streams of light down and watched in something akin to amazement as a few pale streams washed over Nightwing, the young man now sitting on the hood of his car.

He was beautiful.

"Come here, please?" Nightwing said softly across the air, raising one hand out towards his mentor palm-up in invitation.

Beneath the cowl, Bruce felt a lump lodge itself in his throat very painfully. This was it then. It had been three weeks since the initial kiss (yesterday/earlier Bruce didn't count because Dick hadn't returned a single gesture of affection-only endured receiving them) and now, the man was sitting on his car.

Why did he LIKE that?

Batman shook the thought out of his head and stepped through the dusty debris until he was in front of the younger man. Nightwing turned the wrist of his out held right hand and motioned at it with his head. The Dark Knight nearly huffed; it didn't take a genius to know what to do here. So, with little to no breath he reached up and slid his black gloved hand into the acrobat's. Now the cloth of their gloves was thin enough over their palms and fingertips to let most physical feelings through, it was dangerous to be swinging on grapple lines you couldn't feel after all, and the sensations of their palms sliding against one another had him near shuddering. As a matter of fact, given the amount of armor that covered the rest of their bodies this was one of the few physical intimacies they could share in costume.

Bruce swallowed the lump in his throat. Not with nervousness but with essential purpose.

The only reason Dick would be here on this night was if he had an answer and the billionaire couldn't even assure himself what answer he would get.

"Sit down," the younger man ordered, motioning his head towards his right.

Letting their hands slide away from each other Batman did as he was told. Huh? Wasn't that ironic? Here he was following his student's-well previous student's orders. However he knew this needed to happen. He just wasn't sure why IT had to be 'tonight' as neither the Dark Knight nor the Billionaire were ever at their best on this particular night. To his left, Nightwing reached up slowly towards his cowl. The older vigilante didn't move though as he watched the blue striped gloved fingertips disappear beyond his vision. The right hand coming to rest at the back of his neck as its companion ran up the left side of his cowl until it reached his forehead.

Unlike their gloves, there was too much material on his cowl to feel much of anything at all from the touches but he knew how his partner moved. Even as something as trivial as how he moved his hands was something he was familiar with. He sensed that they were there and that made him turn slightly more towards his companion as the fingers started applying pressure. Their suits had securities upon securities now and quick costume removal was not a necessity these days-no matter what the media liked to say about their sexual lives on rooftops and in back alleys. There were exactly 17 pressure points in the cowl alone that had to be pressed in with just the right amount of force, at the just the right angle for just long enough. Every point wasn't the same though; each had its own specific requirements of time, pressure and angle to undo the security parameters. Apparently though, Nightwing had intimate knowledge of them. For some reason, Bruce blamed Tim for this. The security in question had come into effect during Tim's training. Such features hadn't been present when he and Dick and been Batman and Robin. So, Tim must have told him about it.

Either way, the cowl was pushed up, back and down over his head as the hidden skull plates retracted into the back of his costume between his shoulder blades. Finally, the cloth fell limply below the back of his neck. No matter what the younger man answered, he was going to face this as his true self, someone between Bruce Wayne and Batman. The hands grasping the material of the cowl withdrew themselves and Nightwing flashed him a small pity-filled smile before his hands went to his own disguise. The mask he wore was definitely less secure than Bruce's cowl but it still had its own security. Pressure bands curved around the upper corner of the left eye's lens and under the right's. Much like the points, there had to be enough pressure but instead of pressing in with enough pressure at the right angle, he only had to press in slightly and run his fingertips along said hidden bands with enough speed and force to disengage the security feature.

Then, the mask could be peeled right off. No nauseous gas pellets, disorienting lights, acids or tasers.

After those long seconds of Bruce's brain kicking in to overdrive and over-analyzing, he was finally meeting those bright blue eyes with his own dark blue.

Gosh, they were so beautiful!

-And he really needed to stop thinking that as he watched the previously held smile on his protégé's face drop into a frown.

"I still have a lot of questions," Dick said seriously.

"Naturally," Bruce said, finally gathering the courage to reach up and run a gloved thumb over his partner's forehead in…hope.

"Yeah," the younger man breathed and shuddered at the feel of said gloved thumb against his thin skin.

"So now what Dick? It's your move."

Do you leave me heartbroken on one of the worst nights of the year or do you move towards me and make me the happiest being in existence?

All of the words went unsaid by Bruce's tongue but knowing his partner, he might have heard them anyways. Their connection throughout the years had always been something of a mystery that even the World's Greatest Detective couldn't solve. Perhaps one could accept it as a kind of 'faith' or maybe the synchronization of their physical movements on the street battlefields throughout the years had caused some form of telepathic communication between the Duo? It wouldn't be the first case in their realm of reality where a normal human had developed mental powers.

And if so, like any power, it appeared to be a curse as much as it was a gift.

He wasn't caught up in the thoughts but lost all breath when the light blue eyes staring into his gaze suddenly leapt forward, snapped shut and then-

There was the absolute known sensation of familiar full lips pressed to his.

His dark blue eyes closed as well and whether it was a conscious action or simply instinct his arms shot up, encircled the form before him and pulled him towards his chest. Blue striped gloved hands clamped onto his shoulders as Bruce kissed back.

It was happening. It was happening!

Why was he mentally repeating that for emphasis?

Bruce-didn't care. His personality jumped to the forefront of his mind and knocked Batman back into the shadows. Dick was his! Oh gosh, was he really fighting himself for possession over the younger man currently in his arms?

Yes. Yes he was. Because this was the first time that Dick had initiated the: next-level of affection.

The kiss in question was actually only a few seconds long before the acrobat pushed against the older man's shoulders and their lips parted, each participant exhaling a heavy breath against the other. The two sets of blue eyes opened, the darker pair staring in something akin to disbelief. The younger man smiled and released a scoff-like laugh under his breath before pulling his hands from Bruce's shoulders and into the little space that there was left between their chests. His gaze drifted down as his right fingertips danced along the back and wrist of his left glove, disengaging more safety features so he could pull it off. Three more seconds and both gloves fell onto his thigh where his previously removed mask lay as well. Dick grabbed all three objects and turned to place them on top of the Batmobile. He took a deep breath and then fully turned in his companion's arms to face the older man, his bent legs still hanging off the front of the vehicle.

Maybe it was just the past interaction but no matter what the situation, time or problem he faced, this had always been the place he felt the safest in the world. Right here, even if had been forever since he had been in that special place between Bruce's chest and arms. It was always secure. It always felt safe to him because right here was the illusion that absolutely nothing in the world could harm him… because neither Bruce nor Batman would allow it.

And that's what mattered.

It was more of his blind faith in the man perhaps, but he ignored all degrees of common sense again (or maybe he was listening to common sense for once?) reached up towards Bruce's face, let his right hand rest on the side of his face, let his left curve around to slide phalanges into onyx follicles and finally pushed himself forward to kiss the man again.

Bruce let his eyes fall shut again when he felt the kiss return for a sequel. Ugh! Dick's bad jokes were obviously getting to him.

Oh but who cared?

Bruce's hands that were still holding his partner close moved to disengage his own ever layered over security features behind the younger man's back A few pressure points simultaneously pushed in below the ring finger and on the edge of the wrist and his hands were free. He tossed his gauntlets towards the top of the Batmobile where the acrobat's lay but he couldn't be certain if they had landed clearly or not. Not that he cared at the moment because now his hands were free and oh! Dick should stop surprising him-it couldn't be good for his health!

Because the younger man had parted his lips and they were now both breathing into each other's mouths. Maybe if he had more control, he would have asked the acrobat where he had recently encountered tomatoes and orange juice-but that wasn't important at the moment. What mattered was that Bruce was parting his own mouth, his tongue darting out to lick at the lining of the younger man's lips.

He didn't-couldn't go too far.

Too much and he'd scare him. Unfortunately Batman chose that moment to intervene with him mentally. Bastard!

'Come on when he has he EVER been afraid of anything? Much less scared of you?'

Bruce mentally imagined himself kicking Batman in the shin and stuffing him back into the shadows so he could continue the kiss but the acrobat broke it then and there as if he had sensed Batman reappearing. Eyes opened again and just stared…waiting. Waiting on his partner to do something.

The older man didn't want to move fast because whatever Dick wanted tonight, no matter how much he demanded Bruce hold himself together, he would make a gift of it.

Suddenly Dick smirked and parted his lips. Perhaps for another kiss? Oh no, to speak. Why had they stopped kissing?

"I'm IN love with you too Bruce Wayne."

His move. His turn. Alright!

Now bare, Bruce moved his left hand from the acrobat's waist and raised it to tangle his naked fingertips into the younger man's hair.

And damn it! That hair! He never understood how Dick always managed to make it smell so good and make it so soft to the touch. In fact, it was a skill he was rather jealous of, especially at this moment in time. Nonetheless he pressed his right hand harder against his partner's waist before dragging it up his spine. The younger man nearly shuddered with that action and Bruce took it as in invitation to press himself closer and claim those lips again.

Ugh there were a lot of 'agains' happening in these few minutes. Something different. He needed to act!

The hand tracing its way up Dick's back suddenly lessened the pressure on his spine and found the three pressure bands on the back of his costume; one curving around the bottom of his left shoulder and the last two lying in parallel lines surrounding the second rib down. The security for the main suit was disengaged and then that hand went to the hidden zipper at the base of the acrobat's neck just as Bruce opened his mouth and ran a tongue across the younger man's lips to both distract him and additionally imply that he'd like another invitation to push ever onward into this-whatever it was.

The acrobat parted his lips and shuddered once, when those warm fingers at the base of his neck pulled at the zipper on his back and dragged it down a few inches and twice, when Bruce's tongue shot into his mouth and dragged itself over his upper teeth.

Dick had to beat down shock because wow! He hadn't expected this from Batman…but then again, maybe he should have expected it from Bruce Wayne.

Either way this time Bruce broke the kiss, leaving Dick gasping as the older man began laying sweet, soft butterfly kisses along his cheek. The acrobat's hands moved to curl themselves around the older man's neck as Bruce's lips trailed back and finally landed a kiss on his ear. He didn't moan but gosh he wanted to. A breath later though, the younger man felt a sudden exhalation of breath being blown into his ear that made him shudder and slump forward into his mentor's hold with his forehead pressing into the band of armor that protected the detective's clavicle. It made him wonder how deep Bruce's desires went and if they were really, honestly all for him right now?

Dick simply told himself not to think about it too much. Thinking never let them get anywhere in their relationship.

Gosh! Relationship! He had thought it!

Well he was still thinking it as Bruce abandoned interest in his auditory system and continued a stream of kisses down the side of his neck.

And he thought he had to have been shuddering before! A release of breath, a gentle tug of hair and his head tilted backwards, exposing his throat to the exploring mouth.

Dick was gasping and, even if they weren't high pitched, he felt the moans on the back of his tongue as the older man's lips danced over the thin skin of his neck and throat. It was just too much of a sensation and he closed his eyes tightly. It was all apparently a distraction though as Bruce's hands left the zipper on his back and his hair to slide themselves over the younger man's shoulders and insert two fingers each into the edge of his suit around his lower neck; just enough to consciously have a grip and pull at the material. Said material stretched away from his neck via those fingers and Bruce's hands finally pulled the cloth away enough that he could slide them below Dick's shoulders. Finally, his large fingertips met bare skin and he pulled back from the acrobat's neck.

He tilted his head forward and bumped their foreheads together, a smile growing on his face as he encouraged the younger man to open his eyes again.

The bump of craniums did indeed force Dick to open his eyes and blush fiercely because for such a menial action it was so representative of that night when Bruce realized that he was in love with him.

Seriously! A bonk on the head!

How many people actually fell in love this way? Would he get answers if he googled 'bonked my head and fell in love' on the web?

Knowing the irony of the moment he wouldn't be surprised if he found articles on it. He just hoped that he didn't find one written by Bruce. That would be more awk-weird than them actually falling in love.

But-here they were!-As impossible as they had chosen to see it.

A fingertip brushing itself across his lower lip made Dick blink away the thoughts and stare back at his partner.

Partner. That meant so many new things now. New things he had to accept as much as Bruce did. Though the World's Greatest Detective seemed to be on top of it…

"So beautiful," Bruce breathed as he moved one of his hands from Dick's shoulders to trail a thumb up the younger man's cheek.

The temperature of the acrobat's face increased, probably doubled and perhaps he would have passed out from embarrassment if Bruce wasn't doing a bit of blushing of his own. This was another surprising thing.

"You should stop that Bruce. I'm not one your showcases."

Seriously, he was not. He wasn't a preppy little blond girl that would hang on to Bruce's arm all of the time.

The older man chuckled, "You never would be."

Dick shook off as much of the blush as he could (if there was one thing that remained of 'Bruce' at this moment it was that he could sure flirt!-and, it turns out, he would learn that all too well soon enough) and let his hands fall from around Bruce's neck just as Bruce let his fall from the younger man's shoulder and face. Said hands lying between the two of them Bruce scowled, he didn't like that. At the very least they should-

He got his wish when the acrobat reached out and intertwined their fingers together. That action made the scowl vanish and be replaced with a small smile.

Across from him Dick took a very deep breath. He had already talked with Alfred about this-he reminded himself.

He had given Bruce his time, his loyalty, his love and his life and he would do all of it again and he would continue to because-

Because he absolutely, absent of any doubt, eternally…would love this man more than anyone or anything EVER. Maybe that was stupid and yeah it left him bare for any kind of hurt Bruce wound inflict but Dick always forgave him and always would. If anything the harsh times made their relationship perfect. Made it proof that no matter how much bullcrap, torture and pain two people could go through and put each other through there was something there that held them together and would continue to whether this stopped right here or if they moved forward.

Dick released Bruce's hands and reached up to wrap them back around his neck, he got as close as he could to the other man and hoped Bruce could read intention in his eyes.

Bruce Wayne had had his heart since day one, their partnership had already surrendered his life, their shared tragedy had linked their souls and the numerous years together had synchronized their minds.

Heart. Life. Soul. Mind.

He had one last thing to give Bruce Wayne and Batman.

Dick hoped that this was enough as he pressed his lips against Bruce's once again and closed his eyes. He heard and felt the gasp of breath as the older man's arms encircled him again, pulling him even closer, his strong fingers taking short trips to the front of his abdomen to dance over his ribs before their chests were pressed together harshly, as if the symbols they wore on their chests were trying to merge into one.

Almost as if it foreshadowed…the acrobat shook off the thought as quickly as it had come to his mind.

"Bruce," he mumbled against his lip, gasped and then continued, "I've given you everything I can except…one last thing."

"What?"

The acrobat gulped and continued the kiss never pulling back far enough to separate their mouths and only speaking against the older man's lips.

"It's all yours Bruce. If you want it."

Bruce's eyes opened during the next hard press of their lips together and showed confusion until he heard a characteristic sound.

Snap! Snap! ... Snap! Snap!

Those were the clasps of-

His eyes widened in sudden understanding and despite better judgment, and Batman yelling in the back of his mind that this wasn't how it was supposed to go, he raised his own hands to grasp Dick's bare shoulders, turned and pinned him to the hood of the Batmobile.

"What do you want?" he finally breathed between them, lips still moving together as if attempting to compensate for all of the missed years of being apart.

"It's 'tonight' Bruce. Whatever YOU want," the younger man breathed back as he parted his lips in another invitation and his hands settled themselves on the detective's biceps surrounding him.

So as messed up as the entire situation was, that evening Bruce Wayne stared down into beautiful eyes as full lips whispered two frightening yet fearless words against his own.

Batman-committed those said two words to permanent memory as he claimed…

"Oh-"

Night. Weight. Breaths. Madness. Fearlessness.

Nightwing scanned the far end of Crime Alley all the while thinking. It was this alley where it all started and he ironically wondered if this was where it would all end. He heard the footsteps of black boots behind him as he raised his eyes towards the sky to search out the moon. He even heard the distinct sound of specific gloves sliding over strong hands. Soon enough arms were circling his waist from behind, the hands folded over one another on his stomach and he felt breath on the back of his neck.

"It's late and even I will admit that we need to talk."

"What about your patrol?"

An annoyed sigh dusted the back of his neck and ultimately surprised the acrobat. Bruce-Batman was irritated about having to patrol?

Nightwing nearly jumped out of his skin when a kiss was pressed to the back of his neck. It made him sigh contently a second later though and tip his head backwards. There was a swish of Batman's cape from a short sidestep (Every Bat-Clan member needed to know the meaning of each and every Bat-Cape swish!) and then cowl and all, the Dark Knight was resting his chin on the younger vigilante's shoulder. He always wondered why couples did this, now having Nightwing here -like this- he had all of the answers he needed. As corny as that line had been though Batman turned his head slightly and placed a butterfly kiss on the acrobat's cheek which made the younger man's eyes slide open and meet his own. Neither had drawn down the lenses of their masks so their blue eyes were all too visible when they met one another.

"Forget it; if there's trouble the others can handle it tonight."

Nightwing blinked twice and gosh he was doing that an awful lot lately. He could stop if Batman would just stop surprising him every time he turned around. Speaking of turning around he did so, carefully moving as to not give the impression that he wanted the older man to release his hold on his waist. Finally face-to-face the younger vigilante returned the kiss to the cheek as sweetly as he could. Then Batman surprised him yet again by letting himself blush at the action.

He decided not to fight it, debate it or just look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Thank you, but it's 'tonight.' You should go."

As for Batman himself-damn it! His heart had never beaten this fast or felt this warm.

What the hell was it about Dick Grayson that did this? It was completely unfair and a dozen years had NOT prepared him for this. OK, he had never prepared for it in any way but still-

Either way, they NEEDED to talk, especially after tonight but then again-perhaps not now. Though his face was partially hidden, the younger man was clearly tired. His stance and eyes gave that away much too easily.

"Compromise. Only if you return to the Manor and get some rest. I'll see you soon and…we'll talk…I give you my word."

And with that Batman pressed forward one more time for one last kiss of the night.

He wouldn't see Bruce for a week at minimum. Dick Grayson simply considered it a smack of reality when he climbed into bed that evening-well early morning as the clock on the far dresser of his room in the Manor displayed a time of 2:47 am. He supposed he'd get a good night's sleep, have an Alfred-made breakfast, say goodbye to everyone and then head back to New York-to work through the decision he had just made back in Crime Alley. Before he could sleep though, the young man brought up a hand and rested it on his belly. It wasn't the same-but good enough. He intended to remember every moment and Bruce was right, they would need to talk eventually…it was just going to be a little while.

He should have stopped assuming somewhere between following the Batmobile that night to Crime Alley and finally pressing his lips to Bruce's. He'd taken the Bat-cycle ironically to the alley and back. Damian had wanted to check out the internal structure and digital system on the Nightbird and had been well-Damian, so Dick had had to resort to other forms of transportation for the evening.

Tim. Jason. Cassandra. Barbara. Damian. What would everyone even say about this?

Of course-he would not think about it as he was already certain how the conversation would play out. No one had to know but the two of them. Free love. No strings attached.

As previously stated, he needed to stop assuming because he awoke to his clock reading 7:53 am. The sun had already risen and tendrils of light were peeking through the curtains. None of that was important though as he felt the edge of his mattress sink down beneath suddenly added weight and before he could bring his tired muscles to push himself up there was a body lying down next to him, a reminiscent kiss delivered to the back of his neck again and an arm curling over his side to tangle their fingers together against his stomach.

"We need to talk," was whispered in his ear.

The acrobat inhaled and exhaled slowly, grasping the hand on his stomach that much tighter.

"OK."

Somewhere in the back of his mind he was still trying to wrap his brain around the fact that Bruce hadn't disappeared off the radar, had come into his room and was now…holding him. Truthfully, this was his favorite part of the experience, not that he would EVER tell anyone. Being held was…nice. Very nice!

But this talk was unavoidable and inevitable. Dick pulled Bruce's hand away from his stomach and sat up, leaning back against the headboard as a very wide awake Bruce sat up beside him. His dark blue eyes were all but digging into the younger man's subconscious as if almost angry with him.

"Dick, you are completely aware of what happened back there?"

"Of course I am."

"Tell me you meant it."

Dick laughed and turned on the irony smile he had kept locked up most of the night, "Oh Bruce, I wouldn't have let you get close if I hadn't meant it."

"OK, fair enough but you are aware that this…US…we're-"

It wasn't unusual when Bruce was lost for words, but it always seemed to be funny. Dick had to sigh though.

"Yes Bruce. I know what that was and what it meant…what we did."

The older man frowned in contemplation and reached out to lay a hand on the acrobat's shoulder. This move had always been comfortable and warm to the literal touch for the two of them and was no different now. It made both men smile.

"OK, well for starters-" Bruce began but was cut off.

"I already know the regulations Bruce. We can't tell anyone, we have to keep this a secret, we can only be together like this when we're alone, we can't go out in public and you'll need to keep up your status as a billionaire playboy, so you're going to have keep being with women as well."

Now it seemed to be Bruce's turn to blink and that made the acrobat laugh.

"I knew it all going in Boss so don't worry about it."

With that the younger man stretched his arms up towards the ceiling but decided he could still get another hour or two of sleep as he HAD been out late. So with a relieved sigh he slid back down beneath his blankets and rested his head back on his pillow. In the meantime Bruce had apparently decided to let him sleep but didn't appear to want to leave his room. What? Was he going to watch him sleep?

Oh well-weirder things had happened.

With that the acrobat let himself sink into the plushness of the extra soft mattress, the cozy blankets and the ultra-fluffy pillows. Thank you Alfred! Besides, the whole 'watching your partner sleep' wasn't something new to the concept of couples anyways. It was common from what he knew. So, he didn't make a big deal out of it. If that was what Bruce wanted to do, then he wasn't going to stop him. Besides, he did find it rather sweet of the man. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. Dick leveled out his breathing and felt all his muscles go slack back to dreamland.

He then jerked awake when he suddenly felt a hand cupping his face. It was just Bruce, he reasoned, so he relaxed again. He was persuaded to open his eyes though when the billionaire's lips landed on his rather abruptly and quite forcefully. When the older man pulled away his hand fell from his partner's cheek and moved over and across the acrobat's body to brace the billionaire above the younger man. Bruce just stared down at him incredulously for a very long moment.

"No," Bruce breathed.

Dick blinked in surprise yet again for what he was sure was easily the 100th time that night, "What?"

"No," Bruce breathed and shook his head before descending and pressing their lips together again as softly as he could manage.

He pulled back just to keep speaking and to narrow his eyes into a persuading glare, "Absolutely not. Dick, I can't. After what happened tonight? I can't pretend or fool myself into thinking that THAT is all I want out of this."

Confused, the acrobat tensed his muscles and pushed himself up to come eye to eye with the billionaire.

"What are you saying Bruce?" his jaw dropping down in a little bit of shock.

The billionaire's gaze burned, "I'm in love with you Dick Grayson and I want the whole damn world to know it."

With that Bruce grabbed Dick by his shoulders and had only to pull the slightest bit to crash their lips together.

THAT. Definitely shut the acrobat up as he responded in kind, pressing back against Bruce fiercely. He only managed a second of contemplation before Bruce was lowering him back down into the mass of warm blankets and fluffy pillows. The kiss ended and as Dick focused on regaining his breathing pattern the billionaire brought a hand up to run his fingertips down his companion's cheek. The movement caused the younger man's eyes to flutter as he tried to clear his gaze. The sensation had left him so winded, he was certain that Bruce had taken some moisture from his eyes as well as his lips. He finally managed to open his eyes fully and stare at his mentor in the low available light. The only problem was that as soon as his eyes worked out the basic color of Bruce's eyes, he managed to look just in time to see the older man licking his lips in…hunger? Or satisfaction?

"You mean you want this to be…public?"

Bruce nodded and stretched up a bit to lay a sweet kiss on the acrobat's forehead. The hand he had on Dick's cheek trailed up and brushed the loose follicles of his hair away. He didn't want them falling into his eyes.

"Yes," the older man said so determinedly that it sounded like an order from Batman himself.

"Oh my gosh, Bruce I-" Dick started and pressed his hands down into his mattress to push himself back up into a sitting position.

The billionaire rose up as well, moving and turning his body back onto its side so he could keep eye contact with his partner. Unfortunately, the frown decorating his face was all too telling even in the low light of the room. If he'd been a small man, the acrobat may have missed it.

"Bruce?"

"Do you not want this? Do you not want me? In Crime Alley we-"

Dick had raised his hand and clamped it over Bruce's mouth.

"Just give me a minute Bruce. I need a minute."

Bruce knocked the hand away and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You've had a month," the billionaire pointed out, his frown turning into an angry sneer.

The acrobat pulled his blanket-covered legs up until he could successfully fold his arms over his knees and rest his head on them. He…hadn't thought of this. Hadn't even considered it! Bruce loved him and he loved Bruce. Bruce wanting to pursue a relationship with him was strange but exciting enough but in addition the older man didn't want to hide it? He wanted it to be more than hand-holding in the dark, quick kisses on rooftops and the occasional press of their bodies together? It wasn't that Crime Alley earlier had lacked any devotion or love from either of them but Dick had jumped into this expecting more of Batman. Perhaps rooftop meets with a kiss or two? Perhaps a quick ten minutes of passion when patrols got them together and left them alone? Perhaps a bit more physical attention from Bruce Wayne during their civilian lives?

But he wanted this to be known?

"Well?" Bruce nearly barked, deeming that his partner had had enough time.

"I know I've had a month Bruce and I do-want this. Want you. Want US. I just…I just didn't expect that you…that you would want this…want this public."

The billionaire lost his anger, his barely there face displaying contemplation instead of anger. Maybe he did understand?

"Why would I ask that of you?"

"Why? Are you seriously asking me that Bruce?"

"Fine, let me rephrase. Why do you believe that I would want us to keep this a secret?"

"Oh I don't know," Dick said sarcastically, not able to stop it, "Wayne Enterprises, The JLA, The Outsiders, your reputation, your previous partners? Do I need to keep going?"

"It's my company, I can do what I wish and I'm far from the first. The League members are my…friends, those who care don't matter and those that matter don't care. As for the Outsiders, I'm their boss-they have no influence. My reputation? They'll be shouting that I'm gay-I've been called worse. Lastly, as you said 'previous partners'-they're in the past."

The younger man blinked a few times before he turned his gaze down at the edges of his knees, "I don't want to hurt you Bruce. If people leave Wayne Enterprises or stop helping Batman because of this-I can't."

"Stop it!" Bruce reached over and grabbed his companion by his shoulders before shaking him slightly.

"If anyone treats me differently because of this relationship it will never be your fault. Now stop being such a damn martyr."

"Bruce I-"

"Dick shut up. Just shut up and kiss me."

The acrobat shifted his body and did so, his hands rising to twine themselves around his-apparently very soon to be-public partner.

"Bruce?" he murmured after pulling back a minute later.

"Not more doubts please?"

"No. I promise-no more. Just…stay. Please?"

Bruce gathered his partner in his arms, lowered him back down onto his bed, reached for the edge of the covers and slipped beneath them. In less than a second though, his partner was back in his arms pressing another reminiscent kiss upon his lips.

He wasn't entirely certain he didn't fall asleep like that.

…

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Hmm…what was that? Bruce opened his eyes and his slightly blurry gaze landed on the sunlight pouring in through the window across the room. It was late morning then? His eyes went to the digital clock in the room which displayed a time of 9:34am. Yeah, it was definitely the late morning.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Someone at the door. He blinked twice and then gazed down at the form encompassed in his arms. The acrobat was still sleeping but did appear less tired than after…last night.

Last night…and the early morning…

Still tired, Bruce smiled, closed his eyes and somehow forgot about that knocking and the gasp that followed the sound of the door opening. He just fell back asleep, happy that he could experience waking up with his partner in his arms.

Lunch. The Watchtower. E-Lab 32N. 2:00PM

Dick stared down in something akin to confusion at the message displayed on the tablet sitting on the edge of his Nightcomputer (name still in development but it was working for now) when he returned to his HQ after a rather uneventful patrol of New York City. It had been four days after he and Bruce's…actions… in Crime Alley and the acrobat had been strangely at ease. It was true that the two of them had talked the following morning and slept a long time. At 11:00am though Bruce had pulled himself from his companion's bed and stated that he had to leave for a meeting in LA. So he would be gone for a few days. Dick had simply nodded in acceptance as it wasn't an unusual occurrence. Strangely, after showering and getting dressed for the morning the acrobat had been shocked when the billionaire stopped back by his room to kiss him goodbye. This was still kind of shocking him days later.

He had simply returned to New York City in favor of facing the other…'faces' in the Manor. Alfred knew but Dick wasn't ready to confront him yet and he was far from being able to face Cassandra, Tim or Damian. Or anyone else for that matter. Not the JLA, the Outsiders or even…the rest of the Titans, given that Tempest had apparently kept their talk a secret. He and Bruce obviously still had a lot to work out.

This had to be why he had this message-the acrobat guessed.

So Bruce/Batman had stopped by New York, gotten into his base (which wasn't hard since Dick had given him administrative clearance to begin with) and left him a message on a tablet. Which had accomplished two things: one, it left the message untraceable and two, it had worked as an excuse for a present as the tech tablet was one of the newest prototypes from Wayne Enterprises.

This was SO going to be part of the conversation!

This was wrong.

That was the sentence being mentally growled in the Dark Knight's head as he leaned back and just…breathed. Of all of the situations this could have happened in-he had chosen this!

Half of it, he was certain was insanity, and the other half was the dramatic flair he wanted to impair on his partner.

Partner…that made him bite his lower lip in thought. Partner-that meant something more now, something so much more than it had before.

Either way, here he was. The E-Labs were a new string of cabled satellites from Wayne Enterprises. Three had been gifted to the JLA for progress of the self-sufficiency space race against Lexcorp's new OTC's (Oxygen-Temporal-Cubes) stationed on the moon. The E-Labs were basically large green houses full of a variety of rare earth plants but mostly extraterrestrial foliage. The OTC's were compartments of carbon, hydrogen, a large portion of amino acids and various machine adapters. Each billionaire was pushing his company in the race for more efficient oxygen production/exchange in deep space.

The OTC's Bruce found to be nothing more than pretty lights and a bunch of neon buttons!

Then again, all of that was a business matter he had already argued previously just days ago in L.A. There was no need to fall back on it now. And the ARM connection had dried out for the time being.

"Batman?"

Because his partner was here.

Batman glanced up from where his eyes had been fixated on the amount and ease of the oxygen molecules in front of his face and two pair of lenses met. Inside, Bruce smirked. Yes, it had to seem quite a shock for his partner to find the Dark Knight requesting a meeting here of all places. The 32N E-Lab was based on the splitting, isolating, joining and releasing of molecules from noxious gases found on earth. But again-thinking over the processes going into the new E-Labs was NOT his purpose here.

It was his…partner.

"Join me," Batman said, motioning to the spot next to him.

It had to be a shock for Nightwing as this lab was more aesthetically pleasing to the eye than the others. The center of the E-Lab was just a field of T'lin, a century-old crossbred Martian grass, and a fair number of earthen trees dotted the field. The largest was oak and the Dark Knight himself was sitting on the grass leaning back against the trunk, although he was pointedly NOT staring up at the experimental energy source in the domed ceiling that the Green Lanterns had added to his system.

His thoughts only left the tangent when Nightwing stopped by the tree and lowered himself onto the ground. The younger man was still semi-looking-around and dedicated a whole thirty seconds to staring up at the burning hydrogen energy before he glanced towards his partner.

"I'm here," he said bluntly, his mouth turned kind of sideways in a bit of worry.

Batman might have taken a calming deep breath at the moment-if he had been someone other than Batman. Instead he simply turned his entire body towards his companion and reached out to lay his gloved fingers along the stray onyx follicles that were hanging along the acrobat's cheek.

The young man inhaled a sharp breath, "Batman."

"Do you regret it?"

"What?" Nightwing breathed, turning his head to face his mentor directly.

Those damn lenses were still down so he had no hope of reading anything beyond the turn of the Dark Knight's lips and angles of his chin. And no, he was not lovingly admiring either! They'd been reading each other for so many years that it was just natural these days!

"Crime Alley. Do you regret it?"

Nightwing smiled, "No. Never."

"Good," Batman growled and moved fast, reaching across and around the acrobat's body to press his other hand into the younger man's lower back.

"Bat-"

That was all that Nightwing could manage before his body was turned without his will and pulled forward as the hand pressing his hair into his cheek guided his lips to his partner's. He didn't waste time after that, one hand reaching up to grip at Batman's shoulder as the other drifted to the large black bat stretched across the older man's chest. Again, there was too much armor for them to feel anything physically but the knowledge of the location was more than enough and even if he didn't have the super senses to hear it, the acrobat knew where and how his companion's heart was beating.

Nightwing laughed into the kiss at his own thoughts. Now all they needed were inconspicuous speakers in the walls to play some 70's music!

"What's so funny?" Batman muttered as he pulled back and licked his lips.

Nightwing shook his head as he spoke, "Nothing. Just…thinking."

"About what?"

"This. This is crazy."

The older hero hummed his agreement as the duo just sat there.

"You mentioned lunch," Nightwing pointed out.

"…I lied."

"I know."

The acrobat was the first to have to adjust for uneven pressure against his limbs but took advantage of the excuse to bring his hand away from the bat-symbol so he could reach up and press at the hidden switches that raised the lenses in his mask. They were technically still liable to be walked in on by anyone in the JLA Watchtower that decided they wanted to spontaneously check on the donated E-Lab but Dick deemed the risk low enough. Apparently Bruce did as well because he retracted the hand on his companion's cheek and raised his cowl's own lenses.

And the younger man couldn't stare at those eyes for more than three seconds as the alien intensity he saw within them was just too much. He was once again overwhelmed, his eyes fell down onto the older man's chest and he replaced his hand there before he spoke.

"B, what are we doing?"

"Being intimate. Couples do this I believe."

Nightwing almost rolled his eyes but smiled with his teeth instead before closing his eyes and throwing back his head as if his body wanted to laugh anyways. Except, he could not laugh right now. He could not. Thankfully, he did have a relaxation method at the moment. Shifting his weight against the ground, the acrobat pressed himself against his partner, turning his face into the Dark Knight's neck as the hand he had pressed against the bat symbol drifted up to clamp itself on Batman's other shoulder. True the bend of his neck was covered by armor like the rest of his body but it was enough to catch the feeling and scent that was all too familiar. Well, more familiar now more than ever before, since their…intimacy.

Dick swore, one day he would be able to say it. One day.

Back in Batman's mind his thoughts were strangely still and one-sided. Some primal force had to be present as he simply readjusted his hold on his partner by winding his arms around his waist and pulling him as close as possible. He wanted this. A lot. Forever.

And that shook him. Terrified him more than he thought he could ever be. Of course his thoughts had already traveled to the reasons why this was bad idea a long time ago. He hadn't actually brooded on them for very long, dismissing most of them instantly.

And now wasn't the time to go over them again either.

Besides REgression was obviously NOT…PROgression.

Being bold, Batman pulled back from the shared embrace, only to place his own hands on the blue stripes that created the stylized wing V on Nightwing's chest before pushing his partner back and down into the grass. He didn't allow a protest to escape the acrobat's lips as he quickly braced himself above his partner and pressed their lips together again. He knew objectively, without any of his feelings applied to the situation, that Dick Grayson was a great lover. His record of past relationships and the fact that those companions were still close friends spoke that truly enough. Of course now Bruce, and to an extent Batman, was experiencing this…more pleasing aspect.

Now, Bruce had in no way slept with all of those partners that the media spoke of. If he had he wouldn't have had time to do his job as Bruce Wayne much less his job as Batman. So while experienced enough to be an expert, he was not all-knowing. That's probably why the acrobat managed a free leg to gain leverage enough to turn the tables and force the older man onto his own back as their mouths opened in the kiss and their breaths mixed. It wasn't that long of a kiss though as Nightwing ended it and raised himself above his companion. Perhaps the position should have afforded some kind of pleasure from the passion pregnant play but alas, all the acrobat could do was attempt to regain his breath.

Oh gosh, they were supposed to be talking not making out!

"There's still a lot we need to go over," Nightwing said after a deep breath.

"Yes, we will, but one thing first. If we're going to skip lunch then afterwards, let me take you to dinner."

"Hmm, what kind of dinner?"

"You choose."

"Really?"

Batman actually snorted, "We'll go to Pancake Penthouse if that's what you want."

"YOU would actually risk being seen in that place?" Nightwing said with a laugh.

"Sure as long as I get to keep kissing you."

OK, this time he did roll his eyes, "-and this is where I question if the Brucie-flirting is an actual 'cover-up' or an integral part of your DNA."

At first, Nightwing had almost dismissed the premonition that their talk would extend so long. After all the awkwardness of the initial meeting had thankfully melted into um, that intimate action and then into a playful short bargaining. Of course, Bruce had pulled a typical 180 under the cowl and got right down to business.

The duo had moved back to the earthen oak tree to finally hash out the words and the first thing was their family.

"This will scar Robin," Nightwing admitted, all too aware of how awkward this was going to be to Tim.

"I think he'll be OK," Batman said.

Tim was a smart boy well-teen…err near-adult. Wow, how the years went by!

The Dark Knight spoke up again in the short silence that followed their thoughts, "I'll have to assure the Red Hood that I didn't force or seduce you into this."

The acrobat almost laughed. He half wished he could already see Jason's reaction to the news.

And for that matter-

"We'll have to assure everyone that nothing happened…before," the younger man said to the side.

Batman nodded before muttering, "Alfred."

"-already knows," Nightwing injected.

The Dark Knight suddenly tensed beneath his suit.

"What is it?" the acrobat asked.

"Oracle."

The younger man bit his lip and turned his gaze away from Batman to stare back down at the alien grass.

"Let's go back to her later."

"Dick," Batman growled, risking revelation.

"Later…please."

"Fine."

But now there were growls in Batman's voice, like he was repressing Bruce.

"Batgirl?" the younger vigilante asked, trying to turn the subject away from his previous romantic partners.

"We'll have to explain but perhaps I should leave that to Spoiler," the older man said quite gruffly.

Yeah OK, he was NOT going to avoid having to talk about Barbara.

"Little D?"

The Dark Knight shifted his weight and deepened his frown, "He already loves you. If anything he'll be hounding me to treat you right…and threaten to kill me if I hurt you."

True and it was disturbingly both scary and adorable all at the same time. Much like his father!

Nightwing sighed, "OK, go on."

"Oracle," Batman growled again.

The acrobat did laugh a bit this time, "Really Boss? The woman who has up and declared publicly and to everyone we know that what we had was a 'cute little puppy-love' AKA; I'm dating you for fun so don't expect anything serious from me? Why would she be a threat? Unless you have anything left over from when she tried to get in your bed a week after I left?"

Batman relaxed beneath his costume and looked like he wanted to laugh, "No. I had no idea what was going through her mind at that point. Glad I made her see a psychologist."

"Maybe she missed me?"

"Then she should have gone with you in the first place or talked to you at least. Seducing ME was not going to solve her problems with YOU. Honestly, women."

"I feel your pain Boss."

"What will she think of this though?"

"She'll probably be mad."

And if Bruce wanted to pull Barbara into the argument-Dick was going to pull another woman into it.

"Catwoman?"

"Thief," Batman said so fast and blunt that the acrobat suspected that he may have had the answer prepared from the beginning.

"OK, anyone else?" the younger man asked.

"Huntress?"

"Not happening ever again!" Nightwing said loudly and very quickly.

"Good."

Did he have to sound so smug about it? Damn Bat!

"Talia?"

"Terrorist."

Batman had had these answers all ready for the questions. No doubt about it!

"Kory?" the Dark Knight mumbled, somewhat showing some nervousness.

Nightwing shifted and stretched his arms up to release pressure and tension on his limbs as he unloaded as much sarcasm into his next words as possible.

"The alien princess who left me for a political marriage that she swore to me didn't count or matter right before they both publicly announced that their goal was to populate Tamaran with a bunch of little girls? Yeah…that was going to last. What about Diana?"

"She's a princess from a line of immortal warriors who hate men-that was never going to work out. Donna?"

"Ew! She's like my sister boss, seriously don't ever read Winston's tabloids again-the man is crazy."

"Noted."

"Dinah?"

"She's hooked on Oliver…for some reason."

Nightwing smirked at the confusion on his mentor's face. Yeah, no one quite understood the relationship between the siren and the archer. It really made no sense whatsoever.

"Kara?" the older man asked.

The acrobat raised a worried eyebrow, "One, I don't want to get super-punched and two, shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"What do you mean?"

"She liked you too."

Batman growled, turned his body, reached out and pulled his partner into a hard kiss.

…No Bruce, just all Batman.

"Kara, Zatanna, Barbara…I'm tired of them using us. They can all go find other men to play musical partners with. You're mine."

So that was it then-dating! A relationship! Public!

Oh boy…

And for all curiosities, he didn't get to yell at Bruce about the WayneTech Tablet.

Its two weeks later, when Nightwing pulls into the underground Batcave where Gotham City's vigilante is pacing the stone floor, grumbling, that they begin to face trouble. Leaving the Nightbird to sit proudly beside the Batmobile, Nightwing made his way up the access staircase that connected the lower level of the cave where they kept their vehicles and to the main computer, which Batman was-pacing in front of.

Uh-oh. The last time Bruce had been pacing was his confession.

"Batman?" the younger man asked.

His voice seemed to pull the Dark Knight out of his thoughts and even if his face remained stoic, Nightwing didn't need to see to realize what was going to occur. He didn't fight it when the detective stepped forward and drew him into a soft kiss.

OK. Interesting information he'd love to mention to everyone. Batman-was actually very gentle with him. Sure there was more noticeable energy with Bruce Wayne but this was…nice.

"Very nice," the younger vigilante mentally muttered as his hands rose up to rest lightly against the bat symbol stretched across his partner's chest.

Unfortunately the kiss was too short but necessary as the bat pulled back and continued frowning.

"What's wrong?" Nightwing asked, neither moving from their embrace as Batman's hands scrambled over the younger man's back and searched out the location of the vertebrae in his spine.

Gosh he wasn't a cat! Or maybe he could blame Selina for the habit? Ugh! He didn't want to think about her!

"It's the others. Damian's outright ignoring me and I have no idea what I did to make him angry. Neither Tim nor Jason have been home in weeks."

Batman's right hand abandoned its hold on Nightwing's waist and instead rose up to pull back the cowl. The billionaire did look worried-as worried as he could look anyways. The younger vigilante smiled as he lifted his hands from the bat symbol and reached up to remove his own mask, which he quickly slipped into the compartment on his left arm.

"Bruce I don't really think that's out of character for Jason. Maybe Tim's just busy and Damian's probably in a brooding mood. You get in them all the time after all."

"But not like he's been. Every time he sees me he glares. Do I really glare like that?"

The younger man raised one thin eyebrow, the amusement and annoyance all pureed across his face.

Bruce's left had abandoned searching out his partner's spine and he reached up to run a hand through his hair with a deep sigh, "No wonder my villains are psychotic."

Dick couldn't help it, he smirked and said it.

"I told you that you need to work on your social skills, you got real bad people problems."

"Dick, be serious. They might know."

The acrobat frowned.

"You mean, know about…US?"

Yes they had agreed that they wanted their relationship to be public and open but it wasn't like Bruce was going to dress them in silk and start a parade to profess his romantic interest. True, they had been on one date last week but given they hadn't made any announcement about it they had amazingly avoided having their pictures taken by any media photographers. Also, Bruce had toned his request down to a midday lunch at a small café. Not that someone couldn't have taken a picture as Bruce hadn't resisted flirting, or holding his partner's hand or just leaning over the table to kiss him.

And IF it counted as a second date, Batman and Nightwing had taken a short twenty minutes to share Chinese takeout the night before this on the gargoyle-ridden rooftop of the old cathedral. Batman had stolen his egg roll so Nightwing had stolen his fortune cookie.

"But how?"

"I'm not sure," Bruce admitted.

"Well, we were going to tell them first anyways. Look, why don't you go talk with Damian? I have to head to Sirius City so I'll stop on my way to talk with Tim, OK?"

Bruce nodded before reaching up with both hands to hold his partner's head still as he pressed a kiss to his forehead.

They would leave to do so…

…shortly…

"We saw you two-"

"…listen Timmy…"

"…in his office."

"In his office…? Oh, that's it?"

Tim could not believe that they were having the conversation. Did Dick not see that he was about to jump out of the window due to insanity?

"I mean I know it's a big step for Bruce but you can't argue that he hasn't been happier."

"And you two are SURE about this?" Tim asked, twitching where he was sitting behind his desk in his room at Titans Tower.

Both were in Tim's room, the door open and their masks gone from their faces.

"Of course we are!" Dick said with a wave of his hand, "I mean it's no biggie."

"Huge-y," Tim muttered under his breath before speaking up again, "I think-Dick, are you absolutely sure this isn't going to cause more problems between you and Bruce?"

"-but Tim that was the whole point of this. Alfred's been pushing us for months. He finally got through to Bruce with bad cooking and he was about to start using it on me."

"Alfred knows?!" Tim squeaked.

"Of course he knows it was his idea in the first place."

Tim had fallen silent with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

"OK, stop it, you look weird like that. Now, I did stop by to see why you haven't been home in weeks. Batman does need your help out there, Robin."

"I'll be home for dinner," the younger muttered, his eyes getting lost in the world of letters and numbers that were on the sheets of paper that covered his desk.

A sigh, "Well, alright then but I warn you that Bruce is going to want more answers than that."

Dick stood up from where he had been sitting on a nearby chair, stretched and reapplied his mask to his face.

"Don't worry he's not mad, just confused," Dick mentioned, heading towards the door where he spotted Tim's team peeking in around the corner.

So they had seen…and didn't know…

The very next day-well night, they had a sort-of-date. Batman was counting it as a date anyways-because he was Batman! After a number of explosions at Gotham University a week prior (any further explosions had been stopped by the arrival of a strange combination of Spoiler and a visiting Birds-of-Prey, Misfit) the Dark Knight had been keeping a close eye on the suspected perpetrators. The chemist professors at GU, Arnold Greg and Giovanni Ronald, had some cleverly-hidden shady backgrounds in chemicals much more volatile and questionable than sulfur hexafluoride, nitrous oxide or everyday sodium chloride. He planned to keep an eye on them as their part of the parade passed Reynolds Tower. That would be a good ten minutes into the very early morning the duo was out on though.

Batman had been waiting for his partner of course-he always got there first-but Nightwing had arrived in a short five minutes presenting a box of doughnuts and Alfred-coffee. It made the Dark Knight smirk from where he was standing on the edge of the building before he stepped back and took the box that held the doughnuts and thermos and he shoved it into the overlaying shadows of the slightly taller North tower beside their current south tower rooftop.

"Batman what-?"

As quickly as he could move, the Dark Knight was sitting on the edge of the building and pulling his partner down into an embrace. True they weren't even through the first few weeks as a couple but he knew his partner well enough that he loved hugs and just-loved physical contact. He liked being held-Batman knew that. And as one could guess, the younger vigilante was quick to relax into the embrace, looking up to accept a soft kiss from his partner.

"You look good," Batman whispered as he leaned forward to breathe the words into Nightwing's ear.

The younger man nearly shivered from the release of air and parted his lips to speak when he suddenly heard a low level hissing sound. Batman scowled and reached for the commlink in his cowl. JLA business then, the acrobat shifted to move away but the Dark Knight's free arm encircled his waist and pulled him close. He couldn't hear a voice just a series of beeps and once the sequence was apparently over Batman was scrunching his face up in anger.

"Superman's on his way. Here. Now."

Nightwing blinked once before smiling. He hadn't seen Clark in a while-a visit would be nice. A growl from his partner made him stop the thought though as Batman abruptly turned and buried his face into his hair.

"Batman!" Nightwing started but stopped once he realized that he didn't know what to say.

He even knew less to say when both of the Dark Knight's arms encircled his waist and pulled him to his chest.

Batman said nothing more just immediately started a cuddle-attack that Nightwing was starting to peg as his signature move anytime that they met. Yeah, more weird stuff from Batman. In fact he was learning so much about this side of the detective he was certain that he could run a blog or even a cable show about it! He did try to pull away and managed a little space before he was pulled back.

"What-do you want Superman to see this?"

"Yes," Batman said so stoutly that he strangely sounded like Damian for a moment.

"Boss, he's going to freak."

"Good."

"Eh-Man of Steel freaking? No. Not good Boss. Not good at all."

Batman shrugged, "Doesn't bother me."

"Well, it bothers me. Besides, we can't let Superman know yet."

"Hm?"

"Remember, we promised to tell the family first?"

Batman actually groaned but did pull away from the cuddle successfully.

"It's not my fault they can't stand ten minutes of each other so we could tell them."

"We made a decision Boss."

Batman sighed and released his hold on his partner before switching his gaze down on a particular colorful float that the two chemist specialists the detective had been investigating were riding just as there was a sudden flash and boom of fireworks. The Dark Knight followed the sparks of light and observed that there was no danger from the show. Unfortunately, the sparks had effectively announced the presence of the Man of Steel behind and above them.

"Something wrong Superman?" they asked in unison.

The Kryptonian floated down behind them with an amused smile. Nightwing returned it-which made the Dark Knight raise an annoyed eyebrow at the alien. OK, he knew that he had no reason to be jealous because there were zero possibilities of losing what he shared with his partner to Superman but still-his eyes couldn't help but take a quick switch to the blue symbol stretched across Nightwing's chest and even the name...

"Well?" he growled at their visitor while he tensed his muscles beneath his suit.

"Be nice," his partner said with a sharp elbow jab to his ribs, "Batman, you promised."

He had promised nothing!

The Dark knight did release a sigh from the back of his throat though, "Fine. Want to join us?"

There. He could allow that and even if he hated this Nightwing enjoyed Superman's company so maybe that would put him in a good mood and when they were alone again they could-

Superman smiled, walked over and sat down next to Batman, "Sure. What's the celebration for?"

"They finished rebuilding the University," Nightwing said turning so he could pull the box Batman had hidden earlier out of the shadows.

Batman turned his attention back to the float below with the chemists, trying to dull out their visitor.

"…doughnuts for dinner?" he heard the alien ask.

"It's three in the morning," Batman pointed out.

He took another long stare at the float before turning slightly towards his partner, "You know what I want."

Nightwing rolled his eyes, somehow still expressing emotions behind his mask that no one else seemed to accomplish, before reaching for the box. He pulled out a second smaller box, a large thermos and a small stack of Styrofoam cups.

"Yeah I know. One coffee, you take it black and your favorite sprinkled doughnut."

Hm, sugar. Bruce mused on calories as he was handed the sweet.

"Batman?"

The doughnut was stopped halfway to the Dark Knight's mouth whereupon he turned towards Superman and growled, "What?"

"That doughnut."

On Batman's other side Nightwing froze as he was reaching for one of the doughnuts in the box, "What, are they poisoned?"

"That doughnut's pink!"

Silence.

And then-

"Congratulations, you're not colorblind and of course it is, its strawberry," Batman said, finally biting into the doughnut.

The acrobat resumed reaching for his own doughnut, plain glazed, while he simultaneously poured cream and sugar into his own coffee, making his partner shake his head slightly in exasperation. What he did to his coffee was horrifying but Batman guessed it was worth the sweetened taste of his lips later and made more sense for a tea drinker to do so.

"Now don't be rude Batman, he did come all this way to-uh actually why are you here?" Nightwing asked.

Batman couldn't help the statement. It just…escaped. His partner's influence he was certain.

"Yeah, it must have taken him all of three seconds."

He'd get teased for that later…oh well!

Superman found his voice again, "Uh, actually I heard something interesting from Superboy today that Robin shared with the Titans."

"Oh, you mean about this?" Nightwing spoke up, catching the Kryptonian's attention.

Alien blue eyes saw the movement of the blue striped arm and then…a black velvet box. Superman was shocked back into the air in front of the building.

"What's wrong?" the acrobat said with tilt of his head.

Batman too looked up. What was wrong?

"It's…true?" the Man of Steel whispered.

"Of course it's true," Batman growled into his next sip of black coffee.

"…"

"…"

Uncertain of what the tension was for; Nightwing raised the box of doughnuts towards Superman, "Doughnut?"

"Ihavetogo!"

Swish. He was gone.

"And you say I'm rude," the elder vigilante said with a huff.

"Maybe it's Lois."

"Women."

"Be nice, and have another doughnut."

Batman caught the look on his partner's face. Friendly banter, they could do. Besides he doubted Superman was very far away as of yet.

"At least Crispe Cream spells doughnut right," Batman mentioned, his eyes sliding over the 'From the World's Greatest Pastry Company since 1937' greeting line printed on top of the box before he reached for another treat.

"Hmm, I don't get it why don't they call them dough-wheels or dough-rings? In fact now that I think about it they look more like washers than nuts," the younger contemplated.

"Oh what are you complaining about? This newest generation can't even spell doughnut."

The acrobat laughed, "That's true."

"It's 'dough'nut not 'do'nut," the elder muttered.

"Two jokes all within the same hour? Should I be worried?" the younger man asked with a raised eyebrow and amused grin.

"It's all your fault," Batman said with a shrug, polishing off another doughnut.

"Alright, yeah it is but I did get Tim back to Gotham. By the way do you honestly think sending Damian out with Tim and Steph tonight was a good idea?"

"Probably not but I already paid Stephanie to distract them so we could have tonight for ourselves," Batman said solemnly, his eyes resting on the box in his partner's hand before they moved up and met blue on blue.

Blue eyes that promised him everything.

"Uhh…"

Both night dwellers glanced up to see that the Man of Steel had returned but was frozen in place while floating in the air in front of them.

"What?" Batman barked with a glare. He was interfering with the time they had to spend together!

Swish! Gone again.

"What's his problem?" the Dark Knight asked.

Nightwing shrugged in response, "How should I know? You work with him."

The detective frowned. He hadn't seen the League in a month and actually his partner had been the last to work a case in New York with the Man of Steel.

"You worked with him last."

"Oh come on, during that whole investigation we talked for a total of maybe…twenty minutes."

"WE don't talk that long," Batman said with an expression somewhere between a sneer and a pout that was kind of funny to Nightwing.

-who leaned over to peck his partner quickly on the lips.

"Then talk Batman, I'm listening."

"Alfred do you know where Bruce is?"

"I believe he and Master Dick went to Tebel."

"…"

"Master Tim?"

Click.

"And that was it?" Batman asked, leaning against the tree behind him.

A frown marred his face as his butler confirmed that those had been his student's last words in his call to Wayne Manor. Tim was smart-that was a problem in this.

Beneath the dark cowl, blue eyes switched their attention from the dirty ground beneath black boots and aligned themselves to an oddly-shaped group of trees in the distance between numerous other trees that surrounded the area. It was a late, dark evening after their mission in the nearby village and the area was excluding its own theater of audio. That was good. They could use that.

"I'm afraid so sir," Alfred said over the commlink.

"I'll talk to Tim when we return."

"Very good sir and how is Nightwing?"

"Fine. The poison was flushed out of his bloodstream two days ago but I needed to be certain."

"Paranoid but understandable, sir. Now, I believe you have an evening to enjoy with your partner."

"Well I-"

"Why haven't you cut this connection yet Master Bruce? Nervous?"

"No!"

"Then do go be happy!"

Click.

Alfred Pennyworth was scary. No two ways about it. Bruce turned off his commlink and reached up to undo the security on his cowl before pulling it down. He took a deep breath of the air that was still giving off a scent of wet ash. The mission at the nearby village had left him a bit off balance. As often as he saw it and even as much as it touched his life on a normal basis it still unnerved him. Everything had been cleaned up though. The radiation leak had been repaired; it had faded from the area, survivors who had taken shelter in underground bunkers during the explosion had been freed and directed to the peace officers over the Eastern border. Of course that had been when nature had decided to throw a wrench in the work with a sporadic thunderstorm.

Because why not!?

Bruce turned away from the sight of the surrounding trees and back towards the circle of yellow and orange light that danced in the center of their campsite. The single large log Bruce had rolled by the fire was now braced with rocks and the man breathed out in relief. OK, so he wasn't being too forward then. The billionaire walked around both the sitting log and the fire to step in front of the large green tent.

He heard his partner before he could reach for the opening.

"OK, thanks Captain Marvel. Yeah, I'll see you all next Friday. Goodbye."

Bruce huffed and pulled away the cloth door outside before stepping inside and letting said door fall closed behind him. Dick Grayson was standing in front of a bucket of water that balanced atop a fold-out table. His Nightwing costume was long gone from his form and more than likely stashed away safely. The acrobat had on a pair of navy sweatpants but his dusty t-shirt was draped over the side of the bucket.

A step closer revealed to Bruce that the water was releasing a small amount of steam. So he was still tending to the wound carefully. Good. That was good.

"Hey, what'd Alfred have to say?" Dick asked, turning around as his hand blindly reached for the now damp shirt.

The billionaire set to removing his gauntlets as he made his way over to his partner.

"He said he's gotten an obscure phone call from Tim."

The acrobat bit his lower lip and-AHHHH!

STOP DOING THAT!

-and frowned before speaking wearily, "I think he suspects Bruce."

Bruce turned away, tossing the gloves down on his sleeping bag. Getting the message, Dick turned back to the hot water. As he stared at his murky reflection he raised the folded t-shirt to dab at the wound on his neck. Ouch! That memory hurt!

"Whether he knows or not-it doesn't matter. I never planned on keeping us a secret."

"…"

"Unless YOU have changed your mind?"

Dick froze at the inquiry and he was quick to speak up.

"Don't be ridiculous. Maybe I'm still reeling at the whole…idea but I'm with you."

The dark cape fell to the floor.

"Really? You still sound uncertain. If you don't want this-"

Boots.

"Bruce, for the last time I've just been shocked by it. It doesn't mean I love you any less because I'm still in awe of it all."

The billionaire let the utility belt fall onto black cloth-the bright yellow clashing against the dark shade.

"Then you don't regret it?"

He moved on to the security defenses on his armor, starting at the neck.

"NO."

Absolute. Truth.

They stood in silence for five more minutes, Bruce divulging himself of the remainder of his armor, cowl, boots, belt and gauntlets sealing them all away in a camouflage bag hidden behind the geothermal light near the ceiling of their quick-shelter. Dick still had his back to him as he pulled out a change of clothes. Boots, cargo pants and a long sleeve shirt made of thin cotton. The outfit was a bit warm for the hot African climate but the recent rain and nearby river did give their area a slight chill. Not to mention, they would have to be hiking back northwest towards Djibouti tomorrow afternoon so they didn't get mixed up on the news story that would be breaking. He'd need the cover against the local bugs and snakes.

But for tonight?

The billionaire turned back just in time to see his partner pull a small blue bag from beneath the table the bucket sat upon. He took the chance here and walked up behind his partner, making more than enough noise as he reached out and touched his hands to the acrobat's sides. The younger man shivered at the touch and Bruce got an idea. Sliding his hands up, barley touching skin he reached around Dick's waist, balled his hands into fists, turned them, stepped as close as he dared and just let his wrists linger over Dick's shoulders.

"Bruce."

Waving his wrists in mock-rocking motions he pressed his inner wrists onto the curve of the acrobat's shoulders and slowly…achingly slowly…slid them partially down his biceps before returning to his shoulders and then turning again, so the veins in his wrists came to a rest at the thick arteries in his neck.

Dick was gasping asking all higher powers how THAT had been more erotic than any naked person he'd ever seen.

Maybe it was just Bruce or maybe it was just him. He clutched the bag in his hands a bit tighter, readying himself.

"You-"

"Don't have to do this I know. You asked though and I want to make you happy. Besides! It's been awhile. You go ahead. I'll join you in a few minutes."

"OK," Bruce whispered, letting his hands drop from his partner's shoulders.

But it was a weakness about him. Bruce leaned forward and dropped a kiss on the mark on his partner's neck. Momentarily he kind of blamed himself. He should have seen it coming. Nightwing should have just yelled "look out!" but now there was a very clear red mark on his neck dotted with pink circles. He officially hated radiation today and animal mutation. Nonetheless he retreated and escaped outside, grabbing some firewood from the other side of the tent to throw onto the blaze.

"You don't have to do this!" Bruce called back into the tent.

"I know! But I'm going to! Now will you go relax? You did ask for this earlier!"

"I asked for information!" Bruce called back as he stepped around the fire and took a seat on the large log.

Dick either didn't hear the comment or ignored him completely. Either was possible. It would be a few minutes so Bruce set to poking at a protruding stick in the bonfire with his foot. Just contemplating. Things were…good between them. They'd been on a few dates, no newspapers were running the real story of course but they could play fanfare all they wanted. The duo hadn't managed to pin their family down and inform them because they all apparently wanted to NOT be in Wayne Manor at the same time as the two of them for some reason. Bruce had already concluded that if they all weren't drawn home by a dinner party from Alfred, both he and Dick would go to their family members individually to tell them the truth.

Swish.

The billionaire glanced over at the tent in response to the sound and took a deep breath. Tonight he would…

Now, he hadn't actually intended on this tonight or EVER really. Previously to beginning the mission in Tebel, when they had been back in Djibouti, they had come across a typical marketplace to take in the sights. What they had come across in the corner square of said marketplace were… dancers. Belly dancers to be more specific. Bruce had instantly labeled them foreigners due to their recognizable skin tones of the Mideastern regions. There was a woman dancing center stage (well center rock as the market corner was composed of multiple small sandstones) done up in a rather flashy outfit. It was a stereotypical costume with a decorative bra and skirt. The full ensemble was white, the skirt nearly brushing the ground that was slit up to her thigh and the decorative silver buttons and charms on the cloth were reflecting in the sunlight of midday. Her feet were bare but three large rings of gold were surrounding her left ankle

"Egypt- Raqs Sharqi," Dick had muttered and cast a strange look at his partner.

Bruce had immediately wanted to know how Dick had even known that. Apparently Haley's Circus three years ago had taken a specialty tour into the Mideast and Africa. The acrobat had joined them for a few of the shows and gotten quite a crash course in the dances.

"Tell me more."

"Bruce, is this your way of asking me if I'll dance for you?"

And now here they were.

The soft click and clack of decorative beads and gems escaped the tent before their wearer emerged. Bruce held his breath as the firelight brought the shine and shimmer of metal and crystal to light. Feet wrapped in thin black cloth met the dusty ground first before cloth flared out above slivers of visible tanned skin along the beginning curves of shins.

Soft Gray. Night Dark Blue. Golden Yellow.

Before Bruce could open his mouth to either speak a protest, give a compliment or anything the strings of "Ya Hassan" began escaping from the tent as the dance began. The billionaire relaxed his grip on the log beneath him, breathed out a long breath and then leaned back slightly for a better angle as gem dotted dark blue bands on wrists set to twisting and turning bright golden thread and beads struck each other in noble mockery of a wind chime. One hand plummeted to outline the sharp edges of a thin hip bone as the other raised, brushing past onyx locks to trace a large circle above the performer's head. The wristband's assortment of gems glinted reflecting the warm colors of the bonfire; orange contrasting blue, red contrasting green and occasional specks of purple contrasting the fire's outline of yellow. The tempo of the song changed and hips started slanting and rolling. Both hands flew to the upper right as shifting pupils fell to the ground for the shadows to hide a smile. Shoulders and arms moved in waves began a coronation above as a single foot lifted and danced back to brace its heel against the invisible boundary of a stage. A slow ascent and straitening of the neck revealed a smile and excited eyes.

Bruce smiled back and relaxed another degree-all encouraging as the melody of "Ya Hassen" raised in volume.

Short steps left simultaneously brought the arms down to the waist where a rare V-shaped belt followed the invisible dip of the dancer's hips.

The older man almost caught his breath at the anomaly but allowed it to pass over his mind. Perhaps there was more to this than-?

"Ya Hassen" switched off and the stage held a quiet breath before another song began, hidden speakers this time playing a light "Saher Al Sharq."

Movement sped up, gems flashing as legs reached out to tap at invisible patterns in the dirt. An opaque scarf appeared from behind the dancer's back as the cloth was twisted and tossed up into a vain-appreciated-copy of the flames between them.

"Beautiful," Bruce murmured and across the blaze skin stained itself with red from neither fire nor crystal as the dance continued.

Arms flew, feet slid, hips rolled, fingers twisted to and fro and the beat increased. Shoulders pitched forward into a wave and a released breath was quickly followed by the chiming of gems when wrists crossed at the stomach. They shot back into the air, going into circles while the body turned away from its audience. Another quick turn and the body began to travel across the empty stage, kicking up dust and twisting air along with the undulation of the torso.

The beats ended with a quick stand-at-attention and violent snap of the scarf.

Another silence and the billionaire took in the tiniest expansion of his partner's chest. Readying for a final act?

He was proven correct when the scarf was dropped back near the entrance of the tent and the dancer moved forward before turning around. Again, the pause faded as another foreign tune began. Thankfully another Bruce recognized but didn't know casually.

"Sendur" began and another fire blazed.

Energy was the ideal word. Everything melted into a jagged jigsaw of a performance.

Lifts and drops. Slides. Shimmies. Twists. Circles. Figure 8's and wide but quick undulations met in battle of performance. Despite training-Bruce's eyes could barely keep up. Every move was sharp, full, taking full advantage of both the flow and stage space. Just as it should be-

The chords slowed down momentarily before picking up again causing an almost pause in the middle of a slide before a shimmy interrupted and followed the music. Bends were quickly incorporated as the shimmy picked up speed. Legs folded and the spine bent as the dance took on a lower elevation. Arms twisted beyond average as they reached up into waves. Shoulders tilted forward and back into an additional wave. A dip in tempo signaled a rise in the elevation. Feet planted firmly on the ground, legs slowly straitened in contradiction as the remainder of the body kept increasing in speed to keep up with the beat.

Two more twists and three circles joined the coordination before the music cut and the performance ended with a rapid bow.

He didn't need to clap before the younger man was turning to pull the scarf from the doorway of the tent and circling the fire to settle down next to his partner.

"I'd say beautiful but that might be a bit repetitive," Bruce muttered as he reached out to run his pale fingers along a bare dark tanned shoulder.

The acrobat, though a bit breathless, answered with a, "Maybe."

But he was smiling too-so all was good.

"Baladi, Sharqi and Oryantal. They're pretty basic."

Bruce let his fingers move to follow the curve of his partner's arm before he spoke.

"This wasn't uncomfortable for you?"

Blue eyes met his in surprise, "No Boss. They're cultural dances. Just because the west sexualizes them doesn't mean the rest of the world does."

"I'm glad," Bruce muttered before he frowned.

"What is it now?" Dick groaned.

"Are you feeling any uncertainty for this at all?"

The acrobat reached up to flick his partner on the forehead before his fingers curved over and gripped the billionaire's chin harshly.

"For the last time Bruce…I want this."

A kiss silenced any further protests in the night's heat.

TBC...

A/N: This is only about 1/3 of the story. Soooooooo, how is it? I still have no idea what I'm doing!

~Moonsetta