A/N: I just recently realized that this fic was never posted. It has been finished since I originally posted Pocket Change & Pearls. It even had an Author's Note and everything. Apologies for the delay. I can't say I'm entirely happy with this one, it's very different from what I usually write, but the plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone. So here: I give you a very light hearted romp before the next two that are definitely not going to be this happy-go-lucky. Enjoy!

This story takes place very shortly after the events of my last fic: Pocket Change and Pearls.

Play Date

Mary West stood at the sink in the West family home, washing dishes. It seemed to her that cooking and cleaning dishes were all she did now that her son's metabolism was as fast as his feet. She never seemed to quite catch up.

"Mom! Mom! Mom!" Her son, Wally, was yelling. He was standing directly behind her before the sound had even reached her.

She sighed, telling him to slow down was a lost cause. "Yes, Wally?" She asked, not turning from her monotonous, constant task.

"You know that friend I told you about? Who I shared a room with at science camp last spring? His dad's gonna be in Central for a business meeting and he's gonna be with him and I was hoping he could come over and hang out here for a while? Please?! He's super nice and his dad's really crazy about manners and stuff so he'll be quiet, he always tells me I'm such a klutz and loud, so I know he won't bother you or dad. Please?"

Mary paused, attempting to decipher the actual words her son was speaking. She was sure that it hadn't been one long word, as it had sounded. "Of course your friend can come over, hun, do you know when?"

"Friday?"

"That should be fine, sweetheart, I'll talk to your father when he gets home."

Her son was practically jumping for joy. He whooped out a "Yes!" before saying, "Thanks," and zooming away.

She hadn't thought much about it after speaking to her husband, who was going to be at work, anyway.

The Friday morning came with the usual routine: cooking, cooking extra for Wally's appetite, and dishes. Her husband was barely out the door when Wally started. Mary sometimes believed that the lightening strike had amplified her son's speaking ability far beyond what it had done to his feet.

"They should be here soon! Dick says Alfred is always crazy about being on time."

She sighed and wiped her wet hands on a dish towel, how could she have forgotten that "Dick" was coming over? Wally had reminded her multiple times every day for the whole week. Apparently, the boy's father "Alfred" was punctual. Perhaps they could teach her Wally something. She had never actually gotten the boy's last name, or what school he attended. Just that he was from Gotham. He must be very good in science, to win the same Wayne Foundation prize as her son.

"Did you finish your chores, like I asked?"

Wally nodded quickly.

"And am I going to meet Dick's parents before this business meeting?"

Her son shrugged, "Depends, I guess. I don't know what time those things start. I didn't ask."

Well, hopefully the boy's mother had joined and she could at least get a little conversation.

She had barely heard he door bell when her son vanished from view. Well, that's just what they needed, her son's friends to find out that he was as fast as the Flash. She made it to the hallway as Wally slowed down enough to open the door as a normal pace. Three people stood in the doorway. A boy, dressed in a blue polo shirt and kaki pants so pressed and polished he looked like something out of a prep school ad, his left arm in a sling. A man in a very expensive looking business suit, who hair was a shade or two lighter than the boy's, but had the same sparkling blue eyes, and an older gentleman, who stood slightly behind, with a blank professional expression on his face.

The boy, obviously "Dick", laughed, "What? Were you waiting at the door?!"

Wally was practically vibrating with excitement, "You said eight-thirty! I know how Alfred is. I knew you'd be right on time!"

The older gentleman spoke in a calm but satisfied sounding British accent, "Of course, young sir, I would never allow Master Richard to be late."

"Well, now, Wally," the impeccably dressed man said, sounding amused, "are you going to invite us in?"

She could practically hear her son's blush. He mumbled quietly and stepped aside to let them in.

And as the man smiled, recognition snapped inside her. She instantly felt like she needed to sit down. Bruce Wayne! That man was Bruce Wayne. Billionaire, Bruce Wayne and his adopted son-Richard Grayson. Bruce Wayne was in her living room! And she didn't even have her make-up on!

How had Wally gotten to share a room with Bruce Wayne's kid at camp?! Wouldn't a kid like that have his own personal wing? Especially at a camp funded by his father?!

She must have been staring a few seconds too long, because Bruce Wayne turned to her and smiled, "Ah, you must be Mrs. West." He held out his hand. "Bruce Wayne." Bruce Wayne wanted to shake her hand.

Bruce Wayne wanted to shake her hand! She shook herself out of her daze, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Wayne."

"Bruce, please."

She was on a first name bases with Bruce Wayne! "Mary." Did her voice just crack? No, it couldn't've.

Bruce smiled, and oh, did he have a dashing smile. Pictures didn't do it justice. "Dick's been talking about this for the last two weeks, since I told him I'd be coming to Central. They must have had some time at that camp. I know they've been talking constantly since." She only nodded, she self consciously thought it was rather dumbly, still trying to shake off being childishly star-struck by having Billionaire Bruce Wayne standing in her living room. The boys had been speaking since the spring. Oh, that son of hers! He could have warned her. "Dick doesn't have too many friends his age, so it's nice to see."

"Bruce!" The boy whined indignantly.

Wally laughed, "You're such a mathlete."

That comment seemed to make Bruce swell with pride, "His team just won first prize in the county."

Mary couldn't help but smile. This was a proud father, no doubt about it. All that talk about businessmen being absent fathers...it couldn't be true about this one.

"I want you to be careful, Dick." Bruce Wayne continued seriously, "No rough housing. I don't want you to tear those stitches. Again."

The boy sighed exasperatedly, "I'm fine! The doctors said to take it easy, not just lay around! I was in the hospital just laying there for a whole week."

"I won't let him, Mr. Wayne," Wally said quickly. "I totally freaked when I saw it on the news. I was about to run all the way to Gotham!"

Dick laughed, "That's a long way to run, Wally."

Oh! Mary nearly gasped! She'd seen it on the news, too! Bruce Wayne had been mugged; shot in the side, the bullet went through him and into his son's chest. She'd seen the photo from the photographer that had snuck into the hospital just outside the ICU. The billionaire had been sitting in an uncomfortable chair, holding his son's hand to his unshaven cheek. A heartbreaking snapshot. Oh, if it had been her own son...well, she didn't want to think about that. "I thought Batman stopped those sorts of things..."

Mary noticed her son tense, but she shook it off, he was the one who just mentioned running to Gotham...

Her son's friend smiled, "Wouldn't that have been cool, Bruce? Being saved by Batman?"

Bruce Wayne smiled politely, but Mary could tell he was still shaken by the thought of his son hurt. "Batman can't be everywhere, Dick, and I would much rather never meet Batman than to meet him like that."

Dick shrugged with his one good shoulder. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'd still like to meet Batman one day."

Bruce patted his son's good shoulder.

The older gentleman softly cleared his throat, and even more quietly said, "Your ten o'clock, sir."

"Ah," Bruce nodded, "thank you, Alfred." He smiled at Mary and extended his hand again, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mary. I'll be back around six-o'clock?"

She took his hand again and nodded, "Sounds fine."

"C'mon, Dick, I'll show you my room," she heard her son say as she showed Bruce Wayne out.

The instant the door was closed she turned and sagged against it, bringing a hand to face, trying and failing to stifle a childish giggle. The Bruce Wayne had been in her house! She had met Billionaire Playboy Bruce Wayne! And he'd smiled at her. She felt like she was fifteen again.

She giggled to herself as she got back to her usual routine, the sounds of two teenage boys playing filled the house. Perhaps she would change into something nicer for when Bruce picked up his son.