Hello there! Black Wings is winding down, and I should hopefully have both chapters up sometime soon. I've had this idea in my head for a while, but I wanted to make more sense of it first (and finish Black Wings/get close to finishing it) before I started it.

I think I've got everything worked out, so I figured I'd go around and write this chapter and give you something to read while I finish up the last two chapters of Black Wings.

"I, Bruce Alan Wayne, being of sound mind and body, do name my adopted son, Richard John Grayson, my lawful heir. I leave him Wayne Industries, my home, and ninety percent of my funds. The other ten percent will be donated to charity." Lucius Fox looked back up from reading, eyebrows raised. He smiled and slid the final piece of paperwork over to Bruce. Bruce gladly clicked his pen and scrawled his signature across the line.

"Finally. I didn't think there would be this much paperwork just to make Dick my heir." Bruce said with a relieved sigh. "I mean, he's technically my son…"

"Technically, all of this paperwork wasn't required." Fox replied, taking the last paper back. "But I figured you'd want it to be foolproof, just in case. It isn't completely iron-tight, though. You can have it revised to include future children."

Bruce smirked a bit and raised an eyebrow. "Future children, Lucius? I think Dick is enough. I can barely keep him in check."

"Right now you say that. But who knows? Maybe one day you'll have six Robins trailing after you." Lucius chuckled slightly at the thought. "Anyway, it's all taken care of now. The paperwork part, at least. Have you told him…?"

The smirk faded from Bruce's face. "No, not yet. I'm not sure how he'll react. I mean, sometimes I still think he doesn't like the whole adoption thing. I would have felt like someone was trying to replace my parents if they adopted me. And I can only assume he feels the same way-"

Lucius rolled his eyes and sighed. "Bruce, Bruce…he adores you. All he wants is to make you proud. Every time he looks at you, you can see the admiration in his eyes." The other man chuckled and rose from the table. "Inheriting your family's company will mean a lot to him, I think. It shows that you trust him to run something your parents handed on to you. Like an actual son. That type of recognition from you will mean a lot to him, I think."

"Here's hoping." Bruce replied with a grim face. "I still have my doubts…"

"Well, you have to tell him before the press gets wind of this. I don't think he'd like to hear that from the local news." Lucius replied. "Which reminds me…you should probably schedule a press conference for later today to announce it." He chuckled when Bruce let out a heavy sigh and set a hand on his shoulder. "Batman may like his privacy, but Bruce Wayne loves to talk about his life to the press. He hasn't been able to be a drunken playboy since he adopted a little boy. So he has to get his kicks from somewhere."

"I think being a drunken playboy was easier than being a father." Bruce replied.

"What you do as Batman is easier than being a father." Lucius chuckled.

"I'd agree to that." Bruce shook his head a bit and sighed. When he adopted the young orphan, he had no idea how much work it would be. At first, he thought it'd be easy. Dick wasn't a baby. The really hard years had passed. Right? Wrong. Turns out, the hardest years were actually the teenage years. Not to mention that he was still stricken with grief over his parents when Bruce adopted him. So it hadn't been easy. At all. "I'll tell him right when I get home. I swear. And then, press conference."

Lucius took the paperwork off the table and stored it in Bruce's small, private safe. "I'll hold you to your word, Bruce."

xxxx

"You know, this place is way too quiet." Dick said with a sigh. He was laying on the couch, staring up at the high ceiling. "We need a dog. Or something. Maybe like…five dogs."

Alfred set down a tray on the coffee table. "I refuse to clean up after one dog, much less five. If you want one, or five, you'll have to do all that yourself. Now take your vitamins and get washed up for dinner." He handed the contents of the tray, a glass of water and three vitamin pills, to the young man. "Master Bruce said he was on his way home. So be quick about it."

With a slight roll of the eyes and a good-natured smirk, Dick downed the vitamins and hurried upstairs. He washed off his hands and slid down the stair rail to get back downstairs. When he reached the bottom, Bruce was home.

"Can't you ever go down the stairs like a normal kid?" Bruce asked, smiling slightly. He set a hand on Dick's head and ruffled his black hair.

"Acrobat. Flips and stunts are in the blood. We've gone over this." Dick replied as they both walked into the dining room. Alfred had prepared the table for dinner in a matter of minutes, once again proving that Alfred was secretly a wizard. (Or an awesome species of alien. Dick wasn't sure which.)

They sat down and had their usual meal. There wasn't ever very much talking unless Alfred struck up the conversation. Otherwise, most of the talk was about patrols, training, missions, and the like. But Bruce surprised Dick by bringing up a completely different topic than was usually discussed.

"So…um. I finished some paperwork with Fox today." Bruce began. How was Dick going to react to this? And how was it that Bruce could fight super-criminals, but not even tell his adopted son this piece of news? "We revised my will."

"Your will?" Dick looked alarmed. "But, you're not going to be dying anytime soon-"

"Of course not." Bruce cut him off when he saw the sudden fear in Dick's eyes. "I'm going to be around for a long, long time. But we figured that…just in case…we should make sure everything was nice and sound. Whenever I do pass away, I've passed Wayne Enterprises on to you. As well the majority of my money. I did decide to donate ten percent of it to charity, though. You can choose which ones when the time comes." As he spoke, Dick's blue eyes steadily got bigger.

There was a long silence. Alfred lowered his fork and raised his snow-white eyebrows, waiting to see how Dick would react once getting over the initial shock of realizing he was a future billionaire. Finally, the young boy stammered out, "R-Really? You're leaving your dad's company to me?"

Bruce smiled slightly. "Well, it is a father-to-son sort of thing…"

"Father-to-son…" Dick smiled a bit. "I'm honored."

"But you realize we have to tell the press."

"Ugh. Do we really?"

"Yes. Now go put on a good suit."

"Yes, sir."

xxxx

Wally was flipping through the channels when he saw his best friend was on TV.

He was standing next to a podium while his adoptive father, a large handsome billionaire by the name of Bruce Wayne, talked about how he'd formally left his company and the vast majority of his fortune to his adopted son in his will. Said adopted son stood at attention and stared out over the heads of the paparazzi, not really looking at anyone. Dick had once explained to Wally that was his 'thing.' Who would expect a handsome, alcoholic playboy to be Batman? And who would ever suspect his straight as a line, obedient genius son to be joining in on the vigilante game as well?

No one, that's who!

After Bruce made the initial announcement, he allowed reporters to ask questions.

"Dick! How do you feel about this?" One of the reporters called out when he was chosen to speak.

Bruce stepped back from the podium, and Dick stepped up. He looked at the reporter with stern blue eyes. "I'm very honored. I never expected something so precious to Bruce to be passed down to me. But I hope I won't have to be making decisions about the company for a long, long time."

Wally chuckled and leaned back against the couch. He'd figured that his friend always knew he'd be a billionaire one day. But, apparently not. Wally could recognize the excitement glimmering behind his friend's stoic expressions. To him, it meant a lot. It meant being accepted by Bruce as his son. Of course, Bruce had done that a long time ago…but maybe now it just felt more real or something. More questions were asked, mostly towards Bruce. Another reporter asked a question directed towards Dick.

"How do you think your birth parents would react to this?" Wally received a strong urge to punch that reporter in the face. Who asks a thirteen-year-old orphan about how their dead parents would feel about something their adoptive father gave them? It just seemed like a jerk move. He could see Dick struggling to come up with the answer. For the first time, the excitement turned to a glimmer of doubt. Would his parents be proud?

Dick leaned towards the collection of microphones on the podium. "Well, I think they'd be happy for me…I mean, they'd be happy Bruce is taking such good care of me. He's been a great fa-"

The gunshot went off.

Dick staggered and hit the floor of the stage. The reporters went into a panic, trying to determine where the shot was fired from. Bruce yelled for a paramedic and knelt down beside his son. Shortly thereafter, the station cut back to reporters. Wally flipped from news channel to news channel, trying to see more footage. Was Dick ok? Where did he get shot? Was he dead? Finally Wally was forced to admit defeat. The news stations were only replaying the shots of Dick being shot, and saying he was being transported to Gotham Medical. No one was sure what had happened. And if there was one thing Wally West hated, it was not knowing something. It drove him crazy. He had to know how this worked, why this did that…finally, he became so stir-crazy, he decided to go for a run.

Hopefully when he returned, there would be some actual news.