bradygirl_12 (bradygirl_12) wrote,
bradygirl_12
bradygirl_12

Fic: Castle In The Clouds I: The Heir (1/6)

Title: Castle In The Clouds I: The Heir (1/6)
Pairings/Characters: Bruce/Dick
Rating (this chapter): G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Robin is the heir to the mantle of the Bat, but Dick is also 
the heir to the Wayne legacy.
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Date Of Completion: February 16, 2007
Date Of Posting: February 23, 2007
Word Count: 1419


I

 

CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES

 

 

“Hey, Dick!  Dick!”

 

“Smile, Dick!”

 

“Who is Bruce going to take to the Winter Ball?”

 

“Who are you taking?”

 

Dick expertly weaved his way through the mass of paparazzi, slipping inside Gorton
Hall with a sigh of relief.

 

“Dick!”

 

He turned abruptly, wondering if a reporter had gotten inside.

 

“Oh, hey, Jack.”

 

Jack Ellison was a classmate and friend.  Blond hair tumbled into his blue eyes, a
restless hand brushing it back. “What’s up with all the gossipmongers?”

 

Dick grinned. “The Winter Ball.”

 

“Ah.”

 

The Winter Ball was one of the high points of the Gotham social season, and that always
included Bruce Wayne, Prince of Gotham.

 

“Your guardian appears at a lot of these things.  Why are they pestering you?”

 

Dick fell into step beside Jack. “Because the Winter Ball is an occasion which I must
attend.”

 

Amusement sparkled in Jack’s eyes. “You must?”

 

Dick nodded. “Bruce lets me get away with ducking out on a lot of these events, but not
this one.”

 

Lets you?  You’re an adult.  He’s not your father.”

 

Dick looked at him with an arch glance. “My friend, being ‘the heir’ (he used his fingers
as quotation marks) to the Wayne fortune requires certain…obligations.”

 

Jack laughed. “Sometimes I forget you’re the Crown Prince.”

 

They began climbing the stairs. “To be honest, sometimes I do, too.  I mean, I’m a
circus kid at heart.  Bruce comes from a long line of bluebloods.  His ancestors
literally came over on the Mayflower, for cryin’ out loud.”

 

“Yeah, but I’ve been to the Manor.  You seem comfortable there.”

 

“Well, Alfred and Bruce know how to make a home.  Somehow, the three of us make it all
work.”

 

They reached the second floor. “So, who are you bringing?” asked Jack.

 

“I don’t know yet.”

 

“What, a good-lookin’ guy like you has no prospects?”

 

Dick grinned. “I’m choosy.”

 

“Ha!  C’mon, if we’re late, ol’ Pritchard will give us a hard time all class.”

 

& & & & & &

 

Dick stored his motorcycle in the garage and walked into the Manor, dumping his books on
the hall table.  He checked over the mail, picking up a magazine, and headed for the
kitchen.

 

“Chocolate chip cookies!”

 

Alfred smiled. “Yes, warm from the oven.”

 

Dick settled himself at the table, wrapping his limbs around the chair legs. “When’s the
appointment for the tux fitting?”

 

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “You are asking about a tuxedo fitting?”   

 

“I’ve bowed to the inevitable.” Dick grinned as he took a cookie from the plate the
butler set in front of him. “’Every year my tux must be upgraded or a new one bought for
the Winter’s Ball’”. 

 

Alfred shook his head, hiding his smile at the perfect mimicry of Bruce’s voice. “You
know that Master Bruce sets a good deal of stock in this event.”

 

“I know, I know.” Dick sighed. “Out of all the many legacies his family left, this is
one of the biggest.  Sometimes, Alfred, even I am astounded at the lineage Bruce carries
around.  I mean, his family goes back in this country hundreds of years, always in the
uppercrust.  When I was back in junior high I did a report on Mad Anthony Wayne, the
Revolutionary War general, and Bruce is directly descended from him!”

 

“His line is quite varied, I’ll agree.”

 

Dick stared down at the cookie plate. “Alfred, can…may I ask you a question?”  

 

“Certainly, Master Dick.”

 

Blue eyes looked directly at him. “Does Bruce regret being the last of his line?  I mean,
he and I…even if we adopted, his bloodline ends with him.”

 

Alfred checked cabinets to make his weekly shopping list, then answered as he returned
Dick’s gaze, “I believe that Master Bruce is more than happy with his personal life as it
is.  He has never expressed any desire for an heir other than yourself.”

 

“But I’m not his son, even adopted.  Bruce and I have something very different than that.”

 

“Quite so.  However, you are his official heir, Master Dick.  You will inherit the Wayne
fortune when that time comes.”

 

“Alfred?”

 

“Yes?” Alfred asked as he wrote down an item on his list.

 

“Why didn’t Bruce ever adopt me?  I mean, before I was eighteen and before we realized
that we…?”

 

Alfred looked at Dick again. “Perhaps somewhere deep within himself, he knew that
adoption would not be the route to go with you.”

 

Dick blushed pink, but he smiled. “That sounds right to me.  Thanks, Alfred.” He
finished his cookie and bounced out of the kitchen, unaware of the butler’s thoughtful
gaze.

 

& & & & & &

 

Dick poked his head into the study. “Alfred says dinner’s ready.”

 

“Be right there.”

 

Bruce hung up the phone, stacking his papers in a neat pile on his desk.  He rose from
the chair and entered the dining room.  Dick was already seated at the long table to the
right of Bruce’s chair.  Years ago, Bruce had offered him the seat at the other end of
the table but Dick preferred his now-customary seat.  He had stated quite firmly even as
a child that it was ridiculous for them to be seated so far apart that they’d need a
megaphone to communicate.  Bruce always smiled at that memory.

 

Bruce took his seat and shook out the white linen napkin, placing it over his lap. 
Alfred brought in the first course, setting the china bowls of tomato soup down in
front of his charges.

 

The meal was going to be a light one.  Darkness came early in the winter months, and it
wouldn’t be wise to eat a heavy meal before going on patrol.  Over the years Alfred had
learned how to cook meals that would fill the requirements of his Batfamily.

 

“So, I called Pierre today.  We go into the city to meet him tomorrow at four.” Bruce
tilted his head. “Your class schedule is free at that time, right?”

 

Dick nodded. “So, do we bring the old tuxes or get new ones?”

 

“Depends on the state of the old tuxes.”

 

Dick grinned. “I haven’t worn mine since the last Winter Ball, so I think I’m good.”

 

“We’ll let Pierre decide that.  We have to be up-to-the-minute,” Bruce drawled, and Dick
chuckled.  When Bruce put on the playboy act, everything was fine.

 

“Fine by me.” Dick loved the taste of Alfred’s tomato soup. “So, who are the ladies for
this year?”

 

“I’m not sure yet.”

 

Dick sighed. “Right.” He took another taste of soup. “Having a hard time choosing
between Vicki and Silver?”

 

Bruce smiled. “With all that jewelry the women will be wearing, I expect I might end up
with Selina making a guest appearance.”

 

“Ah, yes.  Jewel thief is what she started as.  She’s always been one of the best.”

 

“Top-notch.”

 

Dick suppressed the frisson of jealousy that rose whenever Selina’s name was mentioned. 
Of all the women that Bruce or the Batman had been involved with, Selina was the biggest
threat.  He buttered a dinner roll and put a smile on his face.

 

“Well, I could ask one of a few girls from college.” Dick sighed.  His heart really
wasn’t in this phony dating game, but it was necessary.  Sometimes he wondered if he’d
lose himself among the masks he had to wear.

 

“Hold off for another few days.  I think I can scare up a suitable date for you.”

 

Dick almost sighed again. ‘Suitable.’  Well, what of it?  As long as he had Bruce, even
if hidden away, he was happy.  Maybe the Winter Ball would be fun.  There would be no
pressure with a date who didn’t have his heart.

 

“All right, you’re my matchmaker.” Dick grinned. “Batman should advertise in the
Personals section.  All his set-ups would be required to wear black.”

 

Bruce arched an eyebrow at Dick’s humor but allowed a small smile of his own to appear.

 

After dinner they discussed a patrol route for the night, then went down to the Batcave
as darkness fell.

 

Dick was happy to get into Robin-mode.  His nerves were tingling with excitement as
they had always done before a circus performance.  Essentially, doing what he and Bruce
did out there in the streets was theater, too, using their costumes and personas to
battle the scum of Gotham.  Bruce did it especially well with the Bat, but Dick knew that
Robin served his purpose, too. 

 

Distraction.  Quips.  Letting the bad guys underestimate me and then wham! beddy-bye time. 

 

Dick grinned as he pulled the mask on. 

 

   

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 


Tags: batman/robin, bruce wayne/dick grayson, castle in the clouds
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