Title: Still
Summary: Growing bored, Dick leaned forward habitually in his chair, placed his hands on the ground, tucked his knees in, and somersaulted off of the chair silently. He popped up next to Bruce with a smile, eagerly looking to his mentor for praise, but Bruce glanced down at him with raised eyebrows. Realizing he'd messed up and moved—again—Dick's impossibly-blue eyes widened. "Oops."
Characters: Bruce Wayne (as Batman), Dick Grayson (as Robin), Alfred Pennyworth (as himself XD)
Genre: Family/Humor
Rating: K
Pairings: No pairings. Parental!Bruce/Dick, mention of parental!Alfred/Bruce
A/N: Yet another gem headcanon by 'neat-oh! I just had to write this. :D Enjoy!

Headcanon (from incogneat-oh on tumblr): Some of Dick's Robin training consisted of sitting still. Bruce would get him in a chair down in the Cave, and tell him to sit still and be quiet until Bruce said so. (He was bad at it.)

"Can I now?" The ten-year-old's plea cut through the damp air of the cave. Dick Grayson was sitting in a rolling chair a few feet away from the giant computer. His hands were behind his back, though they were there of his own free will, and he was rocking forward and backward in the chair without even realizing what he was doing.

Pressing his index finger and thumb against his forehead, Bruce allowed himself a small, quiet sigh. He was sitting at the computer, in almost-full costume, only without the cowl up. It was eleven forty-five at night, and they had already been there for two hours. "Not yet. The answer doesn't change every few seconds."

"One of these few seconds, it will," Dick said, grinning at him. Bruce said nothing, letting the silence linger as long as possible. Growing bored, Dick leaned forward habitually in his chair, placed his hands on the ground, tucked his knees in, and somersaulted off of the chair silently. He popped up next to Bruce with a smile, eagerly looking to his mentor for praise, but Bruce glanced down at him with raised eyebrows. Realizing he'd messed up and moved—again—Dick's impossibly-blue eyes widened. "Oops."

"How many times do I have to repeat it?"

"'Do it better. Motion attracts attention, which is the last thing we want on stakeout duty or stealth recon or any of it. Being still is important,'" Dick recited, purposely in a monotone. He made a face. "Yeah. I know."

Surprised, Bruce couldn't help feeling a little bad, too. Dick purposely struggling with remembering things that he didn't want to was another issue in the boy's training. Had he seriously said it so much that Dick had memorized it unintentionally? He saw the child's small eye roll and nudged him toward the chair. "Watch the attitude, kid," he said lightly. "I can always make you sit there longer."

"No!" Panicked pleading filled Dick's eye. "I'll sit still the whole time! Promise!" At that, Bruce couldn't help it; he started laughing. Something that he doubted would ever make sense was Dick's habit of promising something so long as he wouldn't have to do something else, the thing he wanted to avoid being exactly what the reward would be for keeping the promise. If Dick made it through the time, it meant he could handle longer. That was the way Bruce saw it anyway. Confusion took over the ten-year-old's face, though. "What?" Dick asked, spreading his hands. He had no idea what he'd said that made Bruce laugh so hard that he was hardly breathing.

Then he saw Alfred watching and smiling, a glimmer in his eyes similar to the one Dick thought he could sometimes see when Bruce looked at him. He smiled, too, hoping Bruce saw it. The man needed something to make him cheer up more often, and Dick knew from experience how important seeing that look was. Personally, he would do absolutely anything for hope of earning that look. In a way, it was even better when he got that look from Bruce than when he used to from his parents used to, simply because earning it from Bruce was so much harder. Whenever Bruce had the proud father look, Dick had done a good job living up to his expectations, and absolutely nothing made him happier than knowing that.

"Go sit down and try again," Bruce said, regaining his composure. He gave Dick a light push toward the chair.

A pout appeared on Dick's face instantly. "Can't I be done for today? It's time for patrol."

"You aren't done until you manage to stay still for the whole time," Bruce said, a hint of a smile still lingering in his eyes. Dick exaggerated a heavy sigh.

"Fiiiiiine." He hopped onto the chair and crossed his arms, pinching the insides of his elbows to try and keep his hands still. About ten seconds later, he crossed his ankles.

"Still," Bruce chided automatically, though his voice was soft.

"I am!" Dick protested. Bruce's eyebrows rose, and he gave a pointed look at Dick's ankles. Following his gaze, Dick's bright blue eyes widened. "Oops."

"Just try again," Bruce said with a silent sigh.

Dick nearly nodded, but he caught himself. "Okay," he said, determined to get it right this time. Somewhere in, he started holding his breath in effort to be motionless. He was going to make it this try. He knew it.

When he only had four seconds left, he uncrossed his ankles. It was so close to the end, though, that Bruce took some pity on the child. After all, Dick had been trying for the past two hours, and he was mouthing the numbers, pride lighting in his eyes when he finally reached the last ten seconds for the first time all night. Bruce couldn't bring himself to crush Dick's relief and excitement. "Nice work," he said after the three minutes that Dick had to sit still had finally passed.

"Yes!" Dick launched himself off the chair and into the air, somersaulting in mid-air and landing on his feet in front of Bruce, a large, proud smile filling his face. "Told you I'd make it!" he shouted happily, tackling his adopted father in a hug. Startled, Bruce didn't know exactly how to react, but Dick seemed blissfully ignorant of that, tightening his grip before letting go, running to the chair, and doing a handspring off of it with a loud whoop. He bolted over to Alfred, hugging his surrogate grandfather.

"Take it easy, Dick," Bruce said, trying not to laugh. "Go change for patrol." Eyes shining, Dick nodded and ran off. Pulling on the cowl, Batman sighed. "Should we try for five minutes tomorrow, Alfred?" he asked, unable to keep a smile off his face.

"For now, sir, I believe his success with three minutes is enough." Alfred smiled. "Despite Master Richard's…limited ability to hold still, his eagerness will certainly do more good outside than in here." Batman nodded.

"All the same, though," the Caped Crusader said, a smile still playing at his lips. "Long-term stakeouts are far off in his future." Both of them laughed, something that Robin made sure to get a mental image of when he got back. He grinned, happy to have a perfect picture of the two most important people in the world to him. Being still is no fun when you're supposed to, but it is when you get to spy the World's Greatest Detective and Alfred! he thought giddily, pulling out a mini camera from his utility belt and getting a picture.

Several days later, while Alfred was cleaning, he found a photograph that was never there before. A candid picture of Batman and Alfred, laughing about Master Dick's fidgeting. The butler stared at it for a moment, surprised, before realizing when Master Dick had taken it. Then he smiled, dusted the photograph frame, and set it out for Master Bruce to see.

A/N: *smiles nervously* I really hope I got Alfie in character… *nervous 'cause it's the first time she's ever written Alfred* Please review and reassure me otherwise! Or let me down nicely. Please. So long as it's not flames, all reviews are welcome! ;D (Okay, enough cheesy pitching.) Later, peoples! :D