When is a house a home?

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

Even for billionaire playboys, rising at 3pm is pushing it. Well, what the hell. The Batman was up until dawn collaring a group he thinks is tied to Black Mask - one way or the other, dope pushers need to be taken down - and for his trouble, he got a fresh set of bruises, a shallow gash in his forehead that bled like a son of a bitch, and a headache the side of Mars. He needed the sleep.

Hot shower done, jeans donned, Bruce trots downstairs to the kitchen for food and coffee, occasionally rubbing his hair with the towel tossed loosely around his neck.

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[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

Someone else is already there, sitting at the breakfast table, and he's munching away on a handful of cheddar Goldfish crackers, pilfered shamelessly from the opened bag he's brought with him. Alfred would likely have a conniption fit if he saw the debris of crumbs.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

Bruce glances at the man at the table as he heads toward the coffee pot, grumbling, "Remind me to update the alarm system."

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

He grins cheekily back at Bruce, annoyingly awake as usual and sporting far less in the way of obvious physical injury. "Not much good an alarm system can do you when your burglar's got the keys."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_alfred_/]

A damp kitchen towel is suddenly dangling next to Dick's face. "I believe you will find this to be the key to a different problem, sir." Alfred gives the table a meaningful look.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

Bruce snickers. Yes, snickers. Then he pushes the start button on the coffee maker and begins the often-destructive task of making himself something to eat. "What brings you to Gotham?"

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

Dick has the presence of mind to look suitably chastened, and he takes the towel from Alfred, setting about clearing the table of his sins. "Oh, you know, the usual. Bright lights. Big city. Great shopping. Grouchy CEO's who've broken up with their fiancées."

Well, he's not usually one to beat around the bush.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

Whole wheat bread, check. Peanut butter, check. Banana, check. Bruce starts making his sandwich and keeps his bruised, scarred, stiff bare back to his son.

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

Dick continues with his erstwhile task, and pops another cracker into his mouth while he does so. "What's going on?"

A simple question, in of itself. The answer, he's fully aware, is likely to be anything but.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

"Cleaning up after someone," is Bruce's answer. Man, that's a lot of peanut butter on one slice of bread. He hesitates, then continues, "Someone working for the League of Assassins figured out Green Arrow's ID."

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

Silence follows for a few moments as he pauses in his cleanup effort, looking up sharply. "What? How?"

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

"Something stupid he did, unfortunate timing and something we all risk." Bruce glances over his shoulder at Dick and adds softly, "DNA evidence from Ollie's blood. I'm handling it, but I needed to buy time. You know who runs the League now."

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

It doesn't take much to put two and two together. "Talia." Dick drops the towel on the table in favor of running his hand over his face. "Oh, shit."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

Bruce nods, takes a big bite of sandwich and chews as he carries it to the refrigerator. With a glance at Alfred, he gets out a glass for the milk rather than drinking it out of the carton. "I needed to buy time," he repeats. "I told Selina it didn't change anything, and..."

He shrugs, helplessly.

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

He gives the older man a sardonic look as he sinks back into the chair. "Bruce, there is not a woman alive on this planet who would not take an engagement breakoff personally."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

"I told her it didn't change anything privately, just publicly," growls Bruce after downing a glass of milk. Coffee's ready, too. Thank God. "She should know by now that being with me means dealing with a lot of public crap that's just flatly untrue."

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

He exhales, long and slow. "Knowing is one thing, Bruce. What someone feels is something else."

The package of crackers is set on the table.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

Bruce fills the biggest cup he can find with the toxic brew he prefers and begins to sip. Once a little coffee is in his system he continues, "What should I have done? I'm in a unique position to help Ollie."

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

He shakes his head, dismissing the idea that he's suggesting Bruce should have done any different. Hell, he's had this issue himself, a few years back, and he doesn't even want to think about the road that led him down. "Unique position, huh. That's the deal? She keeps her employee's mouth shut in exchange for you breaking it off with Selina? Does Talia seriously think she has a chance with you, still, after all this time, or is this more like her own personal power trip?" His gaze sweeps the room briefly. "You're not the type to pander, so I have to think you're just buying time."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

To that Bruce grunts and mumbles something about having said that a few times already, then he flops into a chair with the rest of his sandwich and coffee. "Green Arrow is the heart and soul of Star City. His identity gets out and the place goes to hell." Black and white in his world, as per the norm.

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

"And she probably realizes you are, too," he finishes. "I thought Star City already -was- hell," he notes ironically, not letting the fact the other questions weren't answered escape his notice. "What's the plan?"

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

"Three step. One, hack into the system Merlyn used to track the DNA and mangle his data. Two, get J'onn to masquerade as the Green Arrow while Ollie and Mia are a long way away. Three, humiliate the hell out of him for making it look like Ollie Queen is the Green Arrow." Bruce sighs, staring into his coffee. "See about shaving off that damned beard sometime too. Too distinctive."

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

He snorts. "Good luck with that last one."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

The older man smirks and notes, "I should tear it off his face. He was flirting with Selina at his fundraiser."

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

Both eyebrows go up at that. "And she didn't claw his eyes out, considering this whole mess is his fault?"

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

"Not that I've heard." There's a small hesitation before he adds, "And it's my fault. I could have let Ollie take care of it. Didn't think that was a good idea."

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

"She's either mellowing out as she gets older or she's planning to break in and castrate him in his sleep. And maybe you, too, when she's done." He reaches once more for the crackers, withdrawing a reserved handful. "Why, what was he planning on doing about it?"

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

"You know Ollie. Probably some idiot notion. Last time he had a problem like this, though, he and the others decided a mind wipe was justified."

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

Dick's expression grows more shuttered, and for once, he falls silent. He's not in a position to pass judgement - he'd asked for the same when Blockbuster figured him out, after all.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

And mind wipes are not precisely high on Bruce's list of happy subjects. He looks away a long moment, letting the silence rest there, then says in a soft, serious tone, "You remember the first morning we sat at this table? I'd gotten the hell beaten out of me, and you asked if I'd been boxing? Alfred made...pancakes, I think it was."

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

There's the twitch of a faint smile as he gazes at the tabletop, which bears the scars not only of his childhood - scrapes from idle forks and spoons - but from Jason's, and Tim's afterward. "Yeah. Buckwheat. I thought they were weird-looking."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

"Still are." Bruce smiles a little too, adding, "I bribed you into cleaning your room."

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

"You're the reason I can't even look at a banana split anymore," he notes. He gives this a little more consideration, and then he leans down and starts untying his shoes.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

Bruce stands up to refill his coffee cup, returning with two cups. The second is slid before Dick and is prepared however the upstart likes his brew. "Do I even want to know why the hell you're taking off your..."

Then he turns and looks out of the kitchen, toward the long hall, and observes, "Thought you'd given up doing that successfully."

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

He glances back up at Bruce, a familiar impish look about him that hasn't changed in the slightest. "I'm not a quitter like you."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

"What makes you think I stopped trying?" retorts Bruce quite calmly, with that maddening, indecipherable poker face.

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

Shoes are off. Gauntlet is thrown. He stands, rolling his shirt sleeves up, as if that will make any difference. "Prove it, old man."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

Bruce contemplates a moment, puts down his empty coffee mug and replies, "Give me a minute to get a pair of socks." Because all he is wearing IS those jeans.

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

"Sure you don't need five? You're ancient now, after all, and those stairs can be a bear," he taunts over his shoulder, as he eyes up the hallway for a run.

He never did make it all the way to the end of that hallway as a kid; and his attempts as an adult have been few and far between, cut short by interruption or insufficient momentum.

Today might change that. Anything's possible.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

He might make it down the hall this time with some momentum. His adoptive father is going to tackle him from behind, at the knees.

Thank God the hall is nice and wide, so the chance of anything breaking is minimal.

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

Alfred's swear jar will receive a hefty donation by the time they're through.