This story takes place after my story, "Skipping Stones". At this point, Dick's placement with Bruce Wayne is still considered a temporary necessity.

Young, eight year old Dick Grayson has been living at the manor for about a month, and has just come out of his grief long enough to start taking a look around. He does not yet know that his new guardian is a vigilante called Batman, but he is curious about the strange goings on that are happening. Dick is apparently a bit of an amateur sleuth himself, so when he spies a large wolf/dog lurking about, his child's logic makes some startling deductions about the nature of Bruce's nightly disappearances.

I do not own Batman. I do own a boatload of his comics, however. Thank you, DC and Bob Kane, for that, but especially for creating my all-time, favorite comic book character of all time: Dick Grayson! (Sorry, Bruce, but my heart belongs to Dick!)

No Warnings . . .

Very slowly Dick was settling into a routine at the manor. Most mornings Dick would breakfast with Bruce before he left for the office, and then he would spend a few hours with Alfred going over basics as the butler-cum-everything determined for himself where the boy was at in regards to his schooling. Some of it was boring, but sometimes Alfred would show him something new.

He wasn't sure why the butler was so surprised by his education; his mother had spent hours every morning homeschooling him. There were still a few subjects he wasn't as good at, but all in all, Alfred seemed to be pleased with his progress. Dick spent the afternoons reading, exploring the gardens, or playing in the gymnasium.

The gymnasium; that was his favorite place, although he was limited to mats, a climbing rope, and a pommel horse. It was filled with both free weights and machines, neither of which he was allowed to touch without a grown-up's help. He had never used a pommel horse before, but Sally taught him to do all kinds of things on the trick ponies that he could do on the stationary equipment. It was much easier than working with an actual moving horse since he didn't have to constantly adjust his balance and momentum to compensate for the ponies' prancing. As a result, it wasn't nearly as much fun.

Dick wiped his face on a towel and went to take a drink out of his water bottle. He frowned when it came up empty. He trotted over to the mini fridge in the corner that Alfred kept stocked with water and sports drinks. When it, too, was empty, Dick was force to go searching for the elder man.

It wasn't always easy finding him. The house was humongous and the butler could be anywhere. He would try the kitchen first, he decided. If Alfred wasn't there, maybe he could just help himself out of the refrigerator. He left the gym and started up the hallway that led to the more public areas of the house. He glanced up just in time to see the butler disappear behind the door to Bruce's study.

"Alfred," the boy called out, but the door had already closed behind the man.

He ran after him, but stopped outside the door. This was Bruce's study. In the time he had been here, Dick had watched Bruce enter this room, shut the door, and not come out for hours. Although no one had actually come right out and told him that it was off limits, Dick just kind of assumed it was a no-kid zone.

Unsure how long the butler intended to stay in the room, Dick decided to knock. He waited, but no one answered the door. Frowning, he knocked again a little harder. When still no one opened the door, Dick turned the knob and peeked into the room.

"Alfred?"

Dick pushed the door open and stepped into the study. No one was here! He noticed a glass door that led to the patio and walked over to it, but found it was locked from the inside. Alfred couldn't have gone through here. He turned back to the room at large.

There were a few bookshelves and a file cabinet that looked like a piece of fine furniture rather than the beat-up, metal one that Mr. Haley had in his office trailer. The desk was a dark wood and was large and imposing with a leather chair behind it. There was a fireplace with a seating arrangement in front of it. Across from the desk in the middle of the far wall was a grandfather clock. It had the wrong time, he noticed, and it made Dick wonder if Bruce realized that it was broken.

But, scanning the room, it became obvious that there were no other doors . . .

Dick was certain that he saw Alfred come in here. Worried that he would be discovered 'snooping' in Bruce's office, Dick walked out and closed the door behind him. He would just go and get his drink himself, then.

He was almost to the kitchen when he heard a door open behind him. He turned around as saw Alfred coming from the study Dick had just been in!

"Master Richard? Were you looking for me?"

"I-I was coming to get a drink," Dick stammered, confused. "The refrigerator in the gym is empty."

"Oh, dear," Alfred said, apologetically. "I'll see to it that it gets stocked and remains so. You use the gymnasium much more frequently than Master Bruce. I should have realized . . ."

"No, it's okay, Alfred! Really," Dick said quickly. He didn't want to be any trouble. "I can always go to the kitchen for a drink if I need it."

"Nonsense," Alfred chided, placing a hand on Dick's shoulder and steering him into the kitchen. "The refrigerator was placed in there for that express purpose. Do not worry, young sir. It will not happen again."

Dick bit his lip. He didn't mean to make more work for the man. A little worry niggled in the back of his mind that if he became a problem; if one of the men deemed him troublesome, Bruce might send him back those people. CPS. They might send him back to the detention center. A shot of fear spiked through him. He hadn't liked that place at all!

Alfred handed Dick a bottle of Gatorade.

"Thank you," he mumbled. "Um, Alfred?"

"Yes, Master Richard? Is there anything else I might do for you?" Alfred asked graciously.

"Where were you a little bit ago," he asked.

"I beg your pardon, young sir? I believe you saw me when I came out of Master Bruce's study," he told him carefully.

Dick shrugged. "I peeked in to see if you were there, but I didn't see anyone. I guess it just surprised me."

"Indeed," Alfred murmured, an odd expression on his face.

Dick's eyes went large. "I-I didn't mean to intrude," he said, hurriedly. "I just wanted to get a drink, and thought . . . thought . . ."

"Thought what, Master Richard?"

Alfred was staring at him now and Dick toed the tiles, nervously.

"I thought you might be in there," he finished lamely.

"I was dusting the furniture," Alfred said. "You must have missed seeing me. Perhaps I was bending over taking care of the lower shelves of one of the bookcases?"

Dick knew that wasn't the case. He had walked into the room; no one had been there! But Dick was afraid to call the man a liar. He nodded to allow the elder gentleman to think that he had believed his tall tale.

"Is there anything else you will be requiring of me? If not, then it is time to begin the dinner preparations," Alfred said, not unkindly.

Dick shook his head, preoccupied. "I should go shower and change," he replied. As he started to leave the kitchen, a thought struck him and he turned around. "Do you need any help," he asked politely. "My m-mom would sometimes ask me to wash the vegetables for her and set the table."

Alfred smiled warmly. "If you would like to help me prepare dinner, I don't see why not, but you will need to hurry as I plan to start right away. There won't be much for you to do, but you are welcome to keep me company."

"Okay," Dick agreed; happy that he found a way to repay the kindness done to him, and eager to find more. Maybe if he worked hard and helped a lot, he might be able to stay.

He was gone the next instant. And Alfred was left contemplating the change in the boy over the course of the past week. No longer was he the sullen, depressed child who preferred solitude. Dick had begun showing a far more cheerful side; one that Alfred suspected was far closer to the child's actual personality.

Master Richard still seemed too quiet and thoughtful for a child his age, but Alfred had been witness to bursts of energy and excited chatter on occasion . . . And even a little bit of laughter. It made the elder man smile to recall it. Definitely an addictive sound, and contagious as well, as Alfred remembered the difficulty he had maintaining the proper stiffness of his upper lip during that occurrence.

Indeed, Master Bruce had reacted in much the same way, and had even graced them with a rare, but genuine smile in response to the joyful cackling of a delighted child. The two older men found themselves ever hopeful of hearing a repeat performance. Perhaps, the butler thought, tonight, after dinner.

Dick rolled over onto his side and sighed. It seemed like all he did lately was sleep, but considering that he hadn't slept well since . . . Well, since that night, he supposed he needed it. Unfortunately, his body had decided that it was done sleeping at, he looked at the clock, eleven pm.

His new guardian had really been trying to make him feel at home; making an effort to be at dinner every evening and they had taken three more walks down by the lake over the past week. He grinned, remembering the sight of Bruce chucking his rock too hard and it making a big splash instead of skipping across the water like Dick's did. He was doing better, but Dick took a secret delight in being better than he was at skipping rocks.

Dick sat up as a shaft of moonlight penetrated his room. Gotham City's weather had more clouds than anywhere Dick could remember that the circus traveled. Rays of sun or beams of moonlight seldom penetrated the dark gray mass that usually made up the skies around here. The beam of light drew him as few things could.

He scrambled out of bed and padded over to the window seat in socked feet.

No matter what the thermostat was set on, the old house always seemed to have a cold draft running along the floor, chilling Dick's toes. He climbed onto the cushioned seat and wriggled his toes inside of his new socks.

No holes!

Of course, his m-mom had never let Dickie run around in holey socks either, but unable to afford to buy a new pair every time Dick wore through them, she took to darning the holes. These were brand-new! He had been excited to get new socks, but felt guilty when Alfred pulled out seven pairs for his use. They were even different colors! His other socks had just been plain old white.

He looked out the window and saw that the moon was almost full! It lit up the formal garden that was below his window. What a great view!

He could see the hedgerow maze and the herb garden that Alfred tended himself. There were roses, although they were cut back for winter, and patches where the gardeners had planted annuals for spring. The grass was thick and lush; so much so that Dick longed for warm weather so that he could run out on it in his bare feet.

The gardens were huge, but from Dick's vantage point, he could see all the way to the tree line beyond. The moon was so bright that it looked like it was daytime. At least until you reached the trees. They hid in delicious shadows that looked kind of creepy, and Dick shivered in typical boyish delight. He imagined all kinds of creatures roaming in the woods.

His mom didn't care for the old stories of monsters and magic, but his father had recognized a like-minded spirit and spent many of night telling Dick stories of the old country; stories that his father had told to him when he was a little boy. The Rom had great stories about witches and werewolves and vampires. His father had told him that the stories were to teach lessons as well as to entertain, and they did!

He felt a twinge in his chest and suddenly there was a sharp prickling behind his eyes.

He father would never tell Dick another story ever again . . .

His tears hovered on the edge of his lashes; afraid to fall although Bruce had assured him that it was safe to cry here. But it was hard to unlearn the lesson he had been given while in the detention center. But he didn't shove the emotions down so firmly as before. The occasional tear would fall now, but it did so silently.

It was his pain, after all . . . His to feel; his to cling to. His grief was all he had left of his parents, and while he hated being sad most of the time, he hoarded it still. He wouldn't share it; not with people who didn't know them, much less care. He felt like Bruce understood a little. Maybe Alfred knew, too, but Dick still preferred to keep it close to himself.

The sight outside his window had grown familiar to him as this had been one of his favorite places to sit. He had thought of how his mother would have loved the roses and would have thought the maze romantic. It had made him smile until he remembered that she would never get to see the gardens here now. He thought that maybe his father might not have cared for the rich man's world his son now found himself immersed in, but he had not been like most Roms in that he spurned the gadjo; that he had chosen to marry Dick's mother was proof of that. No, his father simply preferred the simple itinerant life of a circus aerialist acrobat. He had no use for rich men and their toys.

Dick fingered the fancy material that made up the draperies to his bedroom window. It was a huge improvement to his first stop after CPS had taken him from the only home he had ever known. At least this window hadn't any bars and he could open it if he wanted to. His father might not have approved of the luxury, but he wouldn't have complained. And Dick thought that his father would have preferred for his son to be safe, even if he did disprove of the lifestyle.

As his gaze traveled back over the gardens, Dick spotted movement; a darker shadow moving amongst the shadow of the trees that lined the outer perimeter of the formal gardens. Curious, he got up onto his knees as if the extra foot of height he gained would somehow improve his vision.

What is that?

Some sort of animal, to be sure! A deer, perhaps? The shadow separated from the safety of the trees and stepped into the moonlight. Dick's eyes widened in recognition.

A wolf!

It was the largest wolf Dick had ever seen, and he had seen a few. His parents, knowing his love of animals, would take him to the zoos and parks in nearly every stop the circus had made. One such zoo out west had had buffalo, elk, a grizzly bear, and a few timber wolves. Those wolves had been huge! The male had been taller than Dick at the time; standing easily to his father's waist. Although it was hard to tell at this distance, Dick was certain that this one was even bigger.

He unlatched the casement window and swung it out. The window was taller than Dick was. He climbed to his feet and carefully stepped onto the ledge outside. He held onto the window, not that he needed to for balance, but it had rained earlier and the ledge was wet. He leaned out as far as he could go and stared.

The wolf had its nose in the air; sniffing, Dick thought, for food. He hadn't known there were wild wolves in this area of the country. It was so close to the house, though, it could be dangerous for both the inhabitants of the manor as well as for the wolf itself. He had better go let someone know.

At his movement, the wolf suddenly turned its head and seemed to look directly at Dick. It stared back at him across the distance. The beast looked solid black, although the moonlight highlighted its fur with a silvery glint. It was beautiful. Fascinated, despite himself, Dick waved a little. He could see the head of the wolf nod before it turned and ran back into the woods.

Dick let himself back into his room. He closed the window and hooked the latch. It had been like a dream, he thought, staring at the now empty spot the wolf had been just a moment before.

He scrambled down off of the window seat and ran to the door. He was too excited to tell his tale to bother with a robe and his new slippers. He knew his guardian didn't go to bed this early, so without hesitation, he turned toward the stairs and headed straight for Bruce's study.

There was a light under the door.

He had been right. Bruce was still awake. Dick walked to the door with a scuffing noise made from slippers on tile. He paused and listened, but couldn't hear anything.

He knocked.

And then knocked again.

When there was no answer the second time, Dick turned the handle and peeked into the room. No one was here. The fire was banked already. He wandered over to where a cup of coffee set on the blotter. Carefully, Dick touched the cup. It was cold. Bruce hadn't been in here for a while, Dick thought.

Maybe he went to the kitchen?

Dick left the room, closing the door quietly behind him, and made his way to the big, shiny kitchen. A light was on in there also. Maybe they were both in there; Bruce and Alfred. Even if it were only Alfred, Dick could tell the man about the wolf and go on to bed, satisfied he had done the right thing.

Dick pushed open the swinging door and walked into a deserted room. The kitchen was clean as a whistle; all of Alfred's chores in here apparently done. But why would he leave the light on, and the one in the study, before retiring? He knew Bruce was rich, but he didn't appear wasteful.

He was just stepping out of the kitchen when the door to Bruce's study opened and Alfred stepped out alone. Dick's mouth dropped open and he blinked. The butler, noticing him standing there, moved quickly toward him.

"Master Richard! You're supposed to be in bed," Alfred exclaimed. "What seems to be the problem? Did you have a bad dream?"

Dick shook himself. "Uh . . . No, sir. I woke up and . . . Where is Bruce?"

Alfred's eyebrow rose. "Master Bruce was called away, I'm afraid."

"This late?"

"Indeed, young sir. It has been known to happen. Now then, is there something that I might do for you in the meantime," the man asked him.

At first, Dick wanted to ask him where he came from, but remembered that the butler had lied to him this afternoon about being in the study. Just tell him about the wolf and go to bed. Don't be trouble, he reminded himself, sternly.

"I-I was looking outside a little while ago and saw a wolf near the garden," he said. "I thought someone should know."

The butler looked surprised, and then he seemed to come to some decision and nodded with a slight smile. "I do believe you must have awoken from a dream, young sir," he said, confidently.

Dick frowned. "No sir. I wasn't dreaming. I saw it moving in the shadows and then it stepped into the moonlight and I could see it."

Alfred's expression morphed into a more serious mien. "Perhaps a stray dog might have gotten on the property, then."

"It would have been a really, really big dog," Dick argued.

Alfred smiled reassuringly and patted the boy on the shoulder. "There haven't been wolves seen in this part of the country in more than eighty years. Even if there were, the likelihood that it would come this close to civilization would be quite slender."

Dick huffed. He knew what he saw. "But . . ."

"I'm quite positive that you were dreaming the whole thing," Alfred interrupted. "Sometimes it is difficult to separate fantasy from reality when one wakes suddenly from what appears to be a realistic vision. Now, is there something else you require before returning to bed? A drink, perhaps?"

"No, thank you," Dick mumbled. "Sorry to have bothered you."

"Tis no bother, young sir," Alfred told him kindly. "Would you like me to tuck you back into bed?"

Dick shook his head. "That's okay. I can do it myself," he said.

He felt the butler's eyes on him all the way up the stairs. Dick frowned. Something wasn't right, but it was too late for him to determine what it was. Maybe things would look different in the morning. That's what his father had used to tell him; that things would always look different in the morning light.

A pang struck him in the chest and Dick rubbed his hand over his heart in an attempt to ease it. Dad would have believed me!

A sob caught in his throat. He missed his dad . . . and his mom. He rubbed his pajama sleeve over his eyes before any stray tears could fall, furious with himself.

I'm not a baby, he growled inside his head. I'm not!

Thing would look different in the morning.

"Hey, chum," Bruce greeted Dick the next morning with a smile. "How'd you sleep?"

Dick glanced up at his guardian as they met outside of his door, suspiciously. Had Alfred told him about the wolf?

"Fine, thank you," Dick lied. He had been up for several more hours waiting for the wolf to return, but it never did. He found himself wondering if the butler had been right after all and he had dreamed the whole thing.

He started to ask Bruce about his own night; curious as to where his guardian had gone to so late when the man's large hand settled onto his shoulder and stopped his progress down the hall. He turned around as Bruce squat down next to him. He looked serious, and a little thrill of fear skirted up Dick's spine. Would he be sending him away because he had been wandering the house at night, he wondered suddenly.

"I wanted to talk to you about last night," Bruce said to him.

Dick blinked. Panic flared.

He didn't want to go back to CPS! They would put him back into that place! His social worker had told him that it was only for his own protection; until Zucco could be found and arrested by the police, but it had been almost two whole months and as far as he knew, no one was any closer to finding the man who had killed his parents.

"I know you opened your window last night," Bruce's words cut through the fog of panic. "I would prefer it if you left it closed, however. It isn't safe for you to be messing with it unless there is an adult present."

Dick frowned. That wasn't what he had been expecting to hear.

"Those old casement windows haven't any safety catches to prevent them from opening too far. If you are fooling around with them, you might accidentally fall out," he was saying.

Dick tilted his head. "Fall out the window?" That wasn't likely to happen, and anyway he wasn't afraid of heights.

Bruce smiled and nodded. "Exactly. I want you to be safe while you are here. You understand?"

He wasn't being sent away, at least not right now; that's what he understood. Relief flooded him, making his knees feel wobbly. He nodded vigorously; eager to please now that he was reassured he could remain here a little while longer.

Bruce's smile widened briefly and he ruffled Dick's hair. "Good boy!" He stood up suddenly. "I don't know about you, but I'm starved. Let's go downstairs and see what Alfred's rustled up for breakfast, what do you say?"

Dick nodded again; smiling in response. Anything! Anything to get to stay, he thought.

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