Dick smiled as he jumped into the back of the town car. "Do you know what's in two weeks?" the boy asked as Alfred started the vehicle for home.

The butler thought for a moment. The child had only been with them since April; there was much still to learn. "Is it your birthday?" he asked.

"No," Dick laughed, "That's in March."

"I'm quite sure I do not know, then."

"Halloween!" The boy bounced in his seat with excitement.

"So, it is. Would you enjoy going out trick or treating this year?"

"Would I! I love Halloween. The candy, the costumes. Mom used to make mine and then Dad would take me out." Dick's voice softened as he spoke about his parents, but at least the boy was willing to talk about them. "Do you think Bruce would be willing to take me?"

As much as Dick had begun to think of Alfred as a surrogategrandfather during the last six months, he didn't want to be the kid who was taken trick or treating by the family butler.

"Perhaps, if you asked him," Alfred suggested. He made a note to clear Master Bruce's schedule for the evening. "Do you know what you would like to be for Halloween?"

"I want to go as Batman," the eight-year-old told him. "Some of my friends have said they are going as members of the Justice League. I chose Batman."

Alfred smiled at him through the rearview mirror with approval."I think that can be arranged."

Alfred worked over the child's version of Dick's costume while Batman was out over thecourse of the next two weeks, putting in far more effort into it than was strictly necessary for a children's holiday. He was finding the task to be rather cathartic. It was nice not having to worry over things like armor and other protective gear.

Bruce stood up from where he had been working at the Batcomputer. It was a school night and Dick was already tucked in bed. It was just the two of them in the cave for the moment. He walked over to glance at the progress made as he prepared to go out for the evening.

"Don't make it look exactly like mine," Bruce charged the older man. "It will be too suspicious."

"Master Dick is the ward of a billionaire. It is expected that his costume should be no less than perfection," Alfred informed him. "No need to worry. It is not an exact replica. You'll be happy to note that I have left out the Kevlar and the cape is made more for warmth than for gliding from rooftops."

Bruce grunted unhappily as he pulled his cowl over his face, completing the transformation from indolent playboy to dark knight. The butler was unimpressed. Intimidation was hard to locate when one had changed the formidable vigilante's nappies in the early years.

"Would you rather have him go dressed at Superman? I'm certain I can whip up a suitable likeness in no time. The costume is simple enough and Mr. Kent would no doubt be pleased with the choice."

"Just don't make the boy's costume an exact replica of mine."Batman grumbled the reminder.

"Yes, so you've said," Alfred acknowledged, a hint of smile ghosting over his face.

"You're going to do what you want, aren't you, old man?" Batman shook his head. "I could fire you; you know."

"Of course. It wouldn't be the first time you threatened me with that," Alfred retorted unconcerned. "But we both know the two of you would not manage without me."

"I still say this is dangerous."

"Nonsense. Gotham will be swarming with Batmen come Halloween. The boy's will be just one of hundreds. You should be honored, sir. His friends suggested the all go as heroes from the Justice League. You were his choice. The lad looks up to you."

Dick had only known he was Batman since June. "Maybe he shouldn't," he complained. "Batman isn't exactly a kid-friendly hero. It might be better if he went as Superman."

It had been difficult enough running Wayne Enterprises, keeping up appearances as playboy Bruce Wayne, and being Batman every night. Now, he must somehow incorporate parenting into the mix. It was imperative that he get this newest endeavor right.

"I'm certain you don't mean that."

Alfred was the only person in the world who held this man's confidence, the only one who was privy to the doubts and second thoughts of the Batman. It was a privilege that he never took for granted. Lives depended upon Batman's moral compass, not least of which was that of Bruce himself.

"I, for one, think the boy made an excellent choice." Alfredassured him. "Have faith, sir. Although, parenting is a most challenging occupation, there is no other that is quite so rewarding. I remember fondly raising you and look how you turned out."

"How's that?" Bruce asked, curious despite himself.

"You've done alright."

"Just alright, Alfred?" Good thing he was wearing his cowl, Bruce thought.

"Well, sir, you do spend your evenings thrashing ne'er-do-wells whilst dressed as a flying nocturnal rodent. I think 'alright' is the best one might hope for under the circumstances." The butler's lips twitched in hidden amusement.

Batman grunted his response, using that moment to leave the unusual conversation and begin his evening. Revving the motor in the Batmobile, he left Alfred to finish his Halloween project in peace.

The day before the big day, Alfred revealed the finished costume, presenting it to Dick with a dramatic flourish of a true artisan.

"It's perfect," Dick breathed in awe.

"Of course, it is. Alfred made it," Bruce told him as the boy ran upstairs to try it on. Noting that the costume was a miniature copy of his own, he complained to the butler. "you didn't have to make it an exact duplicate of mine."

"I'll have you know that it is not an exact duplicate. Unlike you,the boy should be able to put the suit on without help."

"I can dress and undress myself," Bruce argued.

"Yes but, lucky for you, you don't have to," Alfred retorted.

Bruce frowned. "Is this a problem for you?"

The question was interrupted by running feet. Dick appeared at the top of the staircase, his cape swirling around him dramatically.

"It's amazing! Thank you, Alfred. I love it!" Dick exclaimed excitedly. Using his arm, Dick brought the edge of his cape around to hide his nose and chin. "Look Bruce; I'm Batman," he growled, attempting to imitate Batman's intimidating growl.

His guardian struggled to contain his mirth. The boy sounded like a pup more than he did a full-grown Rottweiler. It was rather adorable, but he restrained his laughter to spare the boy embarrassment. Dick wanted to be scary, not cute. Still, Bruce couldn't resist pulling out his phone and snapping a few pictures. Dick, loving being the center of attention, began posing for the camera.

After a moment or two, Dick pulled the cowl off his head. His hair stood up on end, but the boy had a serious question on his mind. "Bruce, you're going to take me out tomorrow, right?"

"Of course."

"Please? Just this one ti - Wait! Of course? That means yes, right?" Dick floundered, shifting gears on the fly once Bruce's answer processed.

"It does," Bruce agreed, smiling as the young bat flew down the stairs. He grunted good-naturedly as he caught the happy child out of the air. "You don't ask for much. How could I refuse the one time you did?"

Happiness radiated from the boy as Bruce set him back on his feet. Sighing, he ruffled the mop of wild hair. "You look good,"he admitted reluctantly, pausing to glare at the older gentleman's gentleman in their midst. "A little too good . . ."

"As good as Batman?" Dick asked, hopefulness shining on his upturned face.

"Hm, maybe even better," Bruce told him. "I have it on authority that you, at least, can dress yourself."

Dick squealed with happiness, throwing his arms around his guardian's waist. "Thanks for taking me. Dad always . . ." He didn't finish the sentence but put more strength into his gratefulness.

Rubbing the child's back sympathetically, Bruce murmured, "I know, chum. It's alright. I know."

October 31st, Halloween.

Bruce had not been out for a Halloween since he was seven, the year before his parents died. He gave Dick a great deal of credit for his ability to move on after his parents' death. Oh, he knew the boy still grieved, would always grieve, but celebrating holidays was something Bruce had never managed to do afterwards – at least not until Dick had entered their lives.

"I do believe that the parents are also dressing up for the event, sir," Alfred informed him as Bruce picked out a pair of comfortable Italian loafers to wear. He would be walking, after all.

"I am dressing up," Bruce retorted. "I am seldom seen wearing this combination. I doubt anyone would recognize me in this."

He was wearing a steel-gray turtleneck sweater with a dark-blue blazer and matching slacks.

"Indeed," Alfred quipped, but there was no mistaking the dry sarcastic bite. "I realize that, for you, Bruce Wayne is the mask, but wearing the same thing you might wear to work on casual Friday will not protect your identity."

"I'm not wearing a tie," Bruce pointed out reasonably.

"Hm. Might I suggest you don a pair of glasses, then? It works for Mr. Kent," Alfred added.

"Are you trying to be funny?"

"Heaven forfend," the butler allowed himself to look mildly shocked at the accusation. "Did you find my comment amusing?"

Bruce glanced up at him suspiciously as he pulled on his matching socks. It certainly sounded like he was trying to be funny.

"Hilarious," Bruce said dryly. See? He could do this, too.

"I'm afraid I do not understand this holiday," Alfred went on. "Parents teach their children throughout their lives to never take candy from strangers, yet on this particular evening, they march around the neighborhoods as their children beg for sweets from relative unknowns. How odd."

Bruce snorted. "Now I know you're being funny."

"Nonsense," the manservant defended himself. "The Guild of Professional English Butlers would rescind my membership."

He frowned. "Is that a real thing? I never actually know if you are being facetious when you say things like that."

"Truly, sir. Why ever would I poke fun of an honorable profession in this way?"

Which, Bruce noticed silently, was not an answer. He made a note to look up the Association after he returned from Dick's Halloween excursion.

Bruce was slipping on his loafers when a pint-sized Batman appeared in his doorway.

"Aren't you dressing up?" the boy asked.

"Alfred and I already had this conversation, Dick."

Without missing a beat, the boy answered, "Who's Dick? I'm not Dick. I'm Batman."

That last had been delivered as impressively as Batman himself. Bruce thought the boy must have a bit of thespian running through his veins. It made sense. The child was born into a family of performers.

"The answer to that first question is no," Bruce said with finality.

Unwilling to let it go at that, the bite-sized Batman continued. "You can always be Green Lantern. We don't have anyone dressing as him."

"That is as it should be," Bruce murmured under his breath, to the boy, however, he said, "I do not want to draw attention to myself. The last thing we need is to be followed house to house by the paparazzi."

"So not a costume but a disguise," Dick nodded. "Hey! What if you wear glasses? It works for Superman."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. "No. No glasses."

"My word, Master Dick, that is an inspired idea," Alfred exclaimed while suspiciously straight-faced.

"Did you put him up to that?" Bruce asked the older man.

"Dear me. Wherever would you get an idea like that?" Alfred sniffed, dusting non-existent lint from his immaculate sleeve.

"It's time to go, Bruce," Batman Jr. whined. "Can we go now? Huh, can we?"

As they headed down the staircase, Bruce glanced down at his miniature doppelganger. "Tell me the truth, did Alfred put you up to that suggestion about the glasses?"

"He promised me cookies," Dick admitted. "Don't tell, though. He might change his mind."

His suspicions were confirmed. "Your teeth are going to rot out of your head," Bruce warned him. "You'll be nine-years-old and already wearing dentures."

"Yeah, but not until after Halloween," Dick grinned and leapt from the fourth step to the foyer below. He landed in a roll and came to his feet with an impressive amount of speed and grace.

"Don't do that in public, if you don't mind," Bruce told him. "We're already pushing it with that costume."

"Did I tell you I have a smoke bomb in my utility belt?" Dick blurted.

Bruce stumbled to a halt with a look of disbelief. He looked back at where the butler was just now descending the staircase. "What?"

Dick burst into laughter. "Just kidding. You're face . . ." Smiling, he pulled out a batarang. "But I do have one of these."

"Alfred, what were you thinking?" Bruce growled, snatching the weapon from the child only to stop and stare. "Wait. This is plastic."

"Smile for the camera, you two," Alfred called out, even as he took the picture. In it, the small Batman was beaming from bat-ear to bat-ear while Bruce still bore a look of befuddlement. This one he was going to frame.

A/N: To all my reads yes I'm working on my other fics too.

I hope everyone enjoyed this first little chapter. Next up Thanksgiving!

Thanks for reading/reviewing/faving

Thanks to Alex for helping me