"No."

Dick Grayson was giving Bruce a pouty face that in all honesty he should have outgrown years ago.

"We agreed," his partner argued.

Bruce forced himself not to rub his temples. He had agreed, and he was tired of fighting with Dick. Allowing the teenager to leave his side and pursue a semi-solo career had seemed like the only way to save their tattering relationship, but this. Dick was going to get himself killed wearing that. Whatever that was.

The costume was bright blue with gold across the shoulders. The massive collar would block his peripheral vision. Not to mention the v-neck that exposed his son's chest rather than provide protection. It was flashy. It was hideous. It wasn't functional.

"No," he repeated.

Crossing his arms, Dick glared at him. "This is what I am wearing. We agreed."

Yes, Bruce had agreed, but that was when he had thought his son was a somewhat rational and competent individual. Had Dick even looked in the mirror? He looked like something out of a seventies nightmare.

"Your chest is completely exposed," Batman argued.

His partner rolled his eyes. "It's a small v-neck. All of my vital organs are protected by Kevlar."

"This isn't a fashion show," the vigilante growled.

"Of course not," Dick responded. "But I can still have fun." Before Bruce could come up with a suitably reply, his son continued. "Besides we agreed. I'd get a new name and a new costume, and we'd split patrols."

Batman had given his word. His partner needed the opportunity to leave childhood behind; he also needed a chance to grow into his own hero, but this. If this was Dick's notion of a good idea, he wasn't ready.

Let him make his own mistakes. Alfred had cautioned him. Fine. He could do this for one night as long as none of the criminals broke from Arkham. If it was just a normal patrol, he could do this. If anyone broke out, Bruce would hogtie his ward and throw him in the Batmobile until the danger had passed or Dick had come back to his senses. Hopefully, by the end of the night the teenager would realize that bright blue and gold were not ideal for stealth work. Not to mention the discow. The v-neck.

"What's your name?" It couldn't be worse than that costume.

Dick grinned. "Nightwing."

Of course Clark was to blame for this.

Batman grunted. He turned away from the hideous monstrosity and headed towards the car.

"I'm going to take my bike," Nightwing called.

Batman repeated his grunt. Tonight was going to be a test of his patience.

Batman dropped into the middle of an attempted mugging when he noticed Dick's entrance. He did a double take after the last criminal had been restrained. His partner looked at him and broke into cackle before shooting up to a rooftop.

When the Dark Knight landed on the roof, he found his son bent over in laughter. "You should have seen your face."

Bruce grunted. Dick's new costume was mostly black with a blue bird in the middle that was strikingly familiar to the Flying Grayson symbol, but different enough that it shouldn't attract unwanted attention. It also had blue strips that went down to his fingers. It was far more practical than the hideous thing he was wearing earlier.

The newly dubbed Nightwing stood up with a large grin on his face. Batman felt the right side of his face twitch upwards in response. It had been months since he had seen his ward look so carefree.

"You forgot what day it was, didn't you?"

The date. What did the date have to do with his son's terrible life choices?

"Happy April Fools, Batman," Nightwing called as he shot to a new rooftop.

Author's Note: Happy April Fools! And more importantly, Happy Easter! He is Risen!

It's my favorite week of the year, so here is a fun, lighthearted one shot with minimal angst. Don't worry the next chapter for Incomitatus is halfway written and will be up soon!