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<< >> -- denotes a memory
 * *  -- denotes a thought bubble

WARNING: PG rating for subject matter - discussions of a relationship that
some may find inappropriate.

                ***********************************

Family Reactions - Chapter 3
Terri Hayes

        Alfred returned to the kitchen after the announcement, keeping his
feelings under his best butler's face.  He was ecstatic, though.  Master
Dick and Miss Barbara were perfect together, in his not so humble opinion.
He clearly remembered the first time he came across them in the library
supposedly studying biology...

        <<Standing outside the library door, Alfred stopped with the tray
he was carrying, listening to the voices within.
        "No, really, Babs... I'm just not getting it.  I'm not trying to
be difficult.  Why is mitochondria important?"
        Alfred smothered his grin as Miss Barbara's sympathetic voice began
to explain, patiently, what mitochondria was and why it was important.
He was amazed at the young woman's ability to re-explain things to young
Master Dick 5 different ways.... but it also amazed him just how many
questions Dick could ask about a topic without repeating one.  Obviously
that young man knew what he was doing.
        A quick peek around the doorframe told Alfred all he needed to
know.  With their heads bent close together in concentration, he could see
clearly why Miss Barbara continued.  The methods of flirtation hadn't
changed so terribly much from the times when Alfred himself was young.
        With a slight grin, quickly smothered, the butler entered the
library with hot chocolate and cookies.  "Hot chocolate.  I thought you
might need an interlude to relax some, Master Dick."
        Alfred's British intonation sent the two young people scooting
away from each other, flushing with embarrassment.
        Dick stammered out his thanks, while Barbara cleared her throat
and managed to sound almost calm.  "That was very thoughtful of you,
Alfred, we could use a break."
        Leaving the tray on the coffee table, Alfred allowed his
affectionate gaze to take in the blushing faces and then he left the
library.  Stopping just outside the doors, he allowed himself to crack the
grin that threatened as he listened.
        Dick's soft groan was of mortal humiliation, and Alfred could hear
Miss Barbara getting up to pour hot chocolate.  She sounded a little
confused, but was attempting to keep things on a 'normal' footing.
"What's the matter, squirt?  I think it was sweet of Alfred."
        Taking her cue, Dick's adolescent pride reasserted itself, "Don't
call me squirt, four-eyes.  And I just didn't want Alfred to actually
*see* how badly I'm doing in Biology."
        Alfred just shook his head and left them to their friendly
bickering, amused at the love/hate kind of flirtation.>>

        ... Their flirtation had continued on and off for months.  They
called each other names, but yet they worked together as a cohesive team
when they were 'out and about,' as Alfred called their night work.  It had
been a joy to watch the two shy young people find out that another person
would indeed look past what they viewed as terminal faults.  Miss Barbara
used her intelligence as a shield to keep young men from getting close
enough to see the fragile young woman beneath the strong exterior, while
Master Dick used his sense of humor as his shield.  Their verbal fencing
had kept him amused for months.
        Alfred remembered when Dick Grayson first came to the Manor.
Angry, hurt, confused and wanting revenge in the worst way, the young
Master had been quite a handful.  The young man confided things to Alfred
that he wasn't even sure Dick remembered.  Just as fearful of losing loved
ones again as Master Bruce was, young Dick had still been willing to try
and get close to people...

        <<Peeking into the kitchen where the butler was working on dinner,
Dick sidled through the swinging door.  Hesitantly, he asked, "Alfred?  Ya
busy?"
        Alfred turned from the counter, a knife for chopping celery and
onions in his hands.  "Not terribly so, young man.  Do you need assistance?"
        Dick relaxed a little and pulled a stool from the breakfast bar
over to the counter, perching himself atop it to watch while the butler
resumed chopping vegetables.
        "Not... well, sort of."  He helped himself to a stalk of celery to
munch on while they talked.  "How come Bruce is... like that?"
        Alfred stopped chopping to look closely at Dick.  'Like that'
could mean many things.  "Like what, young man?"
        Dick shrugged and said, "Like... he has a broomstick up his butt.
I dunno."  He took a healthy bite of the celery stalk and continued around
the mouthful, "He acts like he doesn't really want me here.  He's always
glarin' at me and stuff."
        Alfred sighed softly to himself.  Dick sounded miserable, though
he was trying to hide it.  He chose his words carefully as he resumed
dinner preparations.
        "Master Bruce is... a quiet man, Master Dick.  It isn't that he
doesn't want you here, I promise you that.  You remind him very much of
himself at your age, I think.  And although he couldn't spare you the pain
of your parents' death, that doesn't mean he didn't want to."
        Alfred's tone sounds thoughtful, "I think, perhaps, your pain
brings back his own.  That could be why he always seems to be glaring.
Not at you, but at the pain that you're going through.  He is not one to
appreciate feeling helpless, and he knows that's what you feel right now
as well."
        Dick pondered that carefully and asked with a child's logic, "If
he's not mad at me, he shouldn't look like that at me all the time.  He's
scary when he looks like that."
        Alfred chuckled softly, "I will endeavor to mention that he seems
to be scowling quite a lot around you, and suggest that he try not to so
much, young man."
        Dick grimaced, "No, you better not.  He'll just get mad that I
told you."  He eats more of the celery before saying softly, "My mom used
to make chicken soup the same way... lots of celery, onions and carrots."
        Alfred glanced at the young boy, "I'm sure she was a very good
cook, Master Dick."  Though not openly demonstrative with his affection,
he tried to make him feel secure.  "Tell me a little about your parents,
young man?"
        Dick smiled some and began to relate small things.  "My mom always
smelled like violets.  She had this perfume that she always wore on show
nights, it was my Dad's favorite.  Lots of nights, we ate at the
cafeteria, but sometimes my mom would get in the mood to cook something,
and it was real good."
        Dick paused, "She was the best, Alfred."  His voice sounded
choked, "I miss them... so much, all the time."
        Alfred's hand reached out to touch the curly dark hair of the
youngest of his foundlings.  His voice was quiet but bracing, "I know you
do, young man.  But they are always with you.  Every time you remember
them in this way, they are near."
        Alfred wasn't a man given to fanciful notions, but those words
seemed to help Dick's threatening tears.  He smiled at the butler, wiping
his eyes.  "I'm gonna make them proud of me, Alfred.  So that whenever
they look in on me, they'll smile."
        Alfred's smile was small but affectionate on the young boy.  "I
know they're already proud of you, young man.  Now... take your celery
with you and go fetch Master Bruce, all right?  By the time you both get
washed up, dinner will be ready on the table."
        As the young boy raced off to do as asked, Alfred made a mental
note to speak to Master Bruce regarding Dick's needs.  The boy missed his
parents, he needed someone with whom to share that.  Someone who could
understand firsthand.  Alfred wasn't certain that Bruce would be up to
such a task, but it couldn't hurt to nudge his elder 'son' to help the
younger.>>

        ... Master Bruce had tried, but young Master Dick's emotions were
so out in the open, so easy to read, that it was uncomfortable.  Young
Master Dick shook Master Bruce's self-imposed emotional exile by being so
able to express his feelings.  The bond that grew between them wasn't
based on Bruce sharing his feelings in quite those ways.  He just couldn't
talk about the death of his parents with the younger boy.
        Though he never mentioned it to Master Bruce, young Master Dick
had come to him when Miss Barbara refused to see him anymore.  It worried
him that they seemed so intense together, and he regretted that it ended
so badly although it had not been an unexpected development in Alfred's
view.  He was privy to the young man's tears and anguish, more than a
little surprised at just how far the boy confessed the relationship had
gone.  As he thought about it, though, it made more sense.  While Barbara
physically had been a little old for Dick, they had been on each other's
intellectual and emotional level.  They had also been each other's source
of support and partners.  Inevitably, that would take its toll.
Especially when it ended...

        <<As the kitchen door swung open to admit the high school senior
to the kitchen, Alfred turned from stacking the last of the dishes in the
cabinet to see young Master Dick's strained expression.  Assuming that it
had likely been an argument with Master Bruce, the butler finished what
he was doing quickly.
        "Milk and cookies, young man?"
        The tradition had been established between Alfred and Dick when
the child first came to the mansion, and though he was much older now, it
remained a part of their lives.  Perhaps because those talks over milk and
cookies, or various other snacks, had forged a deep bond of trust between
the two men. Nothing that was said ever went past Alfred, and that was
important to the young Master.
        A faint smile crossed Dick's face, though it was painfully obvious
to Alfred what effort that smile truly was.  Although he didn't answer,
Dick took a seat on one of the stools by the breakfast bar.  Taking that
as his cue, Alfred moved about the kitchen to gather the required elements
for a long talk.  Joining Dick at the breakfast bar with a large plate of
cookies and two glasses full of milk, the butler studied the young man's
face.  What could have occured between the two this time, to put that look
of anguish in the boy's eyes?
        The answer to that wouldn't be long in coming, though.  Dick's
voice had been strained as he played with his milk glass and said quietly,
"She won't see me anymore.  I don't understand what I did wrong."
        Alfred nodded, enlightenment dawning.  Compassionately, he asked,
"I see.  Did she say why?"  He thought perhaps it was a girl at school
that young Master Dick had begun 'dating' recently.
        Dick's face twisted into a scowl, his pain hidden inside the
anger.  "She *said* that it just wasn't working out.  That we were too far
apart in age, that we didn't have anything in common, that I needed to
find someone my own age.  Where does she get off??"
        The tirade stopped as the pain took over, "How could she, after
all that we've been to each other, Alfred?  What did I do wrong?  I... I
love her."
        Alfred's gaze rested on Dick's face, "I can't explain her actions,
young man.  I can only listen and be here for you."
        Dick took the unique opportunity afforded him by Alfred's
compassion and affection, sobbing as he hadn't since the day he'd grieved
for his parents' death in the same way... in the same place.
        Genuinely surprised at the confessions that came from young Master
Dick that night, the butler learned things he wasn't certain he wanted to
know.  It was Miss Barbara that the young man was so intimately attached
to.  Their relationship had been much more than a years-old crush.
        When Dick finally calmed some, they talked long into the
afternoon.  The young man was subdued throughout the discussion, and that
worried Alfred.
        "I just don't get it, Alfred.  How can she be so casual about
something that was so ... profound?  It wasn't just sex."  Dick had
blushed as he said it, but stood by the words.  "It was like... the
connecting of two souls.  I can't be the only one who felt it.  How can
she just walk away from something so powerful, and so right?"
        Sighing softly, Alfred tried to respond in the best way he could.
Surrogate fatherhood was much more difficult with Dick than it had been
with Bruce, in some ways.  The young Master was so much more emotional
than Master Bruce.  That was a good thing... and sometimes a bad thing.
        "Perhaps, young man, what you felt was something that she couldn't
understand... or was afraid of.  You are both in a very intense line of
night work, and to be so close to someone else can sometimes be a danger.
I cannot answer for her, only she can tell you why.  If she chooses not
to, then you may have to move on with your life.  If it was meant to be,
it will work itself out in the end.">>

        ... It had been cold comfort to the boy though, Alfred remembered.
 When young Robin had begun taking such radical chances on the nocturnal
adventures in Gotham, Alfred fretted in his silent, private way that the
boy would be badly injured in his exploits.  Master Bruce hadn't asked him
if he knew what was happening, and Alfred felt that young Master Dick's
privacy was more important than any details of his relationship.  It was
enough that Master Bruce knew there was a problem.  He was quite
observant, and Alfred believed that Master Bruce must have had some
indication of what was going on between his young charges.  Young Master
Dick's anger had caused him to push constantly...

        <<Four days after Dick's confession, Batman and Robin had returned
to the BatCave in foul moods.  Not that it was anything new, since the
breakup.  This time, however, they were arguing with one another.
Batman's cold control to Robin's fiery rage.
        "If you ever pull a stunt like that again, Robin, you will no
longer do this job."
        "Don't threaten me, Bruce.  I might take you up on it, and then
you'll have no one to blame but yourself!"
        "This discussion is far from over.  You endangered not only
yourself tonight, but the police and the hostages as well.  Smashing
through that window was reckless at best, suicide at worst.  Are you
*trying* to get yourself killed?"
        Dick's response was to strip off his cape and stalk toward the
small anteroom where the uniforms were kept.  When he came back out, his
voice was cold.  "It was a chance that had to be taken, and you weren't
going to do it.  So I did.  Deal with it."
        Bruce's sigh as Dick stomped up the stairs was tired.  He stripped
off the cowl and cape, looking toward Alfred, who had remained silent
through the whole 'discussion.' "He put himself in front of two machine
gun-toting maniacs tonight.  He just doesn't care if they blow him away,
and it's making him a danger to himself, and a danger to others. And I
can't get through to him."
        Alfred looked upward after Dick was gone and then back to his
'elder son.' "His heart is breaking, Master Bruce.  I'm concerned that he
is trying to prove something, but the young lady doesn't appear to be
interested."
        Bruce's smile was grim, "Oh, she was interested, Alfred.  But she
should have known better than to get involved with someone so young.
Dick hasn't even had a chance to know what else is out there.  And if it
comforts him at all," he nodded toward where Dick vanished. "She's out
there doing equally stupid things.  Chasing them down separately to save
them from themselves is keeping me from catching some of the crooks... but
I can't let them get themselves killed over a crush gone sour."
        Bruce turned to leave, saying regretfully, "Keep an eye on him,
Alfred.  I can't get through to him.">>

        ... Alfred had gotten the distinct impression that Bruce knew a
LOT more than he was saying.  It disturbed him to think that Master Bruce
might have had something to do with that intolerable situation.  He
watched as Bruce ran himself ragged trying to keep the two younger
crime-fighters from getting themselves or someone else killed.
        Alfred shook his head, remembering the next weeks of craziness.
Every time he turned around, Robin had been doing SOMETHING insane.  He
had ached for the boy's heart, and with long talks, eventually things had
calmed.  But Dick hadn't been the same... he'd closed off his heart,
burying the pain deep.
        Of course, he didn't think Master Dick had been old enough for
True Love, as it were... but then again, who can truly say that love is
age specific?  It had certainly left a raw wound on the young man's soul
that didn't heal until just recently.  Whatever part Master Bruce might
have played in that breakup, Alfred hoped that he would be all right with
it now.  Young Master Dick and Miss Barbara had been through so much, both
together and apart, that they deserved some happiness.
        As his hands prepared hot coffee and sandwiches for Bruce Wayne's
dinner, Alfred's thoughts turned to comparing the two young men that he
considered himself to have raised.  Admittedly, with no experience at all
with children, he probably had not done a very good job with Master Bruce.
By the time Young Master Dick had come, Alfred understood what mistakes
he'd made... but each young man was so different, that helped his ability
to parent them as well...

        <<Ten-year-old Bruce Wayne stood at his parents' graveside with
dry eyes.  Alfred's arm was around his shoulders, and the butler said
quietly, "Come, young man.  We should go back to the house."
        As the two walked back toward Wayne Manor, Bruce asked in a solemn
voice, "Will I be allowed to stay here, Alfred?  Or will someone come and
take me away?"
        Alfred's voice was soothing, "Your parents, young man, asked me
many years ago when you were born if I would act as guardian for you if
something should ever happen to them.  Provisions have been made, and
you'll remain here at home."
        Bruce simply nodded.  He had come through the funeral and burial
in a kind of shock.  Though he was at least speaking now, Alfred was
concerned that the young boy would never again be the carefree child who
laughed with his parents.>>

        .. His fears had been justified.  Master Bruce had been so
traumatized, so overwhelmed by his grief, that Alfred hadn't known what to
do except simply be there for the boy. Perhaps if he had found some way
through the intense isolation Bruce felt, he wouldn't be such a driven
man.  Perhaps, though, it still would have happened.
        With Dick, the child had been used to being able to be open about
his feelings... and when he found Alfred to be a willing listener, he'd
taken advantage of that in a way that Bruce simply hadn't as a child.
Even Dick was a driven individual, though, and Alfred believed their
intense need to see justice done would have manifested in other ways even
had the Batman not come into existence.
        Alfred placed the sandwiches on a tray along with the carafe of
coffee, shaking his head.  He was a surrogate father to Master Bruce and
he loved that boy like his very own.  He had done the best he could with
little experience at raising children.  His only regret was that Master
Bruce could not seem to find it within himself to allow someone close
enough to help assuage the pain. Even with the bumps in the road, the
closeness of Master Dick and Miss Barbara's relationship healed many of
the breaches in young Dick's soul, and Alfred wished as he walked back
toward the secret stairwell to the BatCave that Master Bruce could have
let some young woman be the same thing to his heart.
        As the aging butler stepped back into the Cave, his eyes rested on
the elder of his two 'sons.'  Dressed in all but the cape and cowl of the
Batman, Bruce Wayne was an imposing sight.  Alfred placed the tray on the
console of one of the large computers and said in his imperturbable
fashion, "Dinner, Master Bruce.  Do eat before you go out there, young
man.  We cannot have your stomach growling when you are attempting to be
silent."  Alfred's gaze seemed calm, cool and collected but visible to
those who knew him well, as Bruce did, Alfred affection was plain.  The
faint smile that followed the butler's order contained the same reserved
showing of affection back as Bruce responded to the command.

        *************************************************

        Tim Drake, AKA the new Robin, swung exultantly across the space
between two buildings with an almost silent whoosh of air.  This was the
life, as far as he was concerned.  He was an important member of the team
known as the Dynamic Duo.  He was a man of honor, defending the innocent
from crime and injury.  He grinned beneath his mask as his feet landed
atop the building just across the road from Barbara Gordon's apartment.
He knew better than to land ON her building.  Barbara, known in
crime-fighting circles nowadays as Oracle, had the whole place wired.
        Robin pulled a small communications unit from his belt, signalling
the Barbara apartment.  Oracle's amused voice responded immediately with,
"He's on his way, Robin."
        "He's already arrived."
        Robin whirled about at the sound of the low, familiar voice of
Nightwing.  Both older brother and mentor, the elder (ex)Robin viewed the
younger with a grin.  "You should be more careful," Nightwing stated.  "I
could have been anyone."
        Tim scoffed, "Anyone?  Not likely, with me standing here just
across the road from her place."  He closed the com unit, sliding it
casually back into his belt.  "So what's up, Nightwing?"
        Nightwing's amusement grew.  It wasn't so long ago that he'd
chatted with the new Boy Wonder about Barbara.  The kid hadn't believed a
word he said when he denied any emotional attachment to her.  It was no
wonder.  Did *everyone* see what he hid from even himself?  First the
Huntress mentioned it, then Tim... well, anyway.
        "What's up is that I thought you ought to be one of the first to
hear my news, and I wanted to tell you myself."  Nightwing smirked, "You
deserve the chance to crow about it, since it won't happen often."
        "What news?"  Robin's eyes peered closely at Nightwing's face.
Good news, bad news?  Obviously good, the man was grinning like a loon.
        "I'm getting married."
        Tim was speechless.  Dick was *what*??  Getting married, but....
"But.. but..."  Sputtering incoherently, the Boy Wonder just stared.
        Nightwing laughed softly, watching Tim stammer.  He simply waited
quietly for either a barrage of questions or for enlightenment to spread
over the kid's features.
        "But.. but... who...!?"  At that, Tim stopped, knowledge dawning.
"Ohmygod, you're marryin' Babs!  Oh my GOD!"  He started laughing.  His
next words were definitely made in a tone of 'I told you so,' "And here
you denied every bit of what I said."
        Nightwing rolled his eyes, grinning.  "What can I say, short
stuff?  You saw something that I didn't want to see."  He shrugged
nonchalantly, "It won't happen often, so enjoy it."
        Robin chuckled, "That's great!  You guys have fun."  His grin
eased to a smile of true happiness, "I think you're perfect for each
other... don't let anything stop you from being happy."  Perhaps too
serious for him, more serious and adult an attitude than Dick had ever
seen from the kid.
        'Something's changed with him,' Dick thought to himself.  Aloud,
he simply said, "Thanks."
        Robin glanced over his shoulder, toward the sky.  A bright
BatSignal lit up the sky.  He turned his eyes back to Nightwing and
smiled, "That's my cue.... you gonna join?"
        Nightwing paused briefly, and then nodded, "Yeah.  Yeah, I will."
He pulled a communicator unit from his own belt and contacted Oracle.
        A rueful smile graced his love's face as soon as she saw him,
"Yeah, yeah, I know... I saw the signal.  Get going.  Tell Robin I said
hi, and call if you need me."
        Nightwing grinned, "I'll be back later, babe.  I love you."
        Shaking his head at the exchange, Robin waited until the com unit
was secured safely and launched his grappling hook.  "You two are gonna be
enough to make a guy get cavities."
        The laughter that floated on the night air was soft, as the two
flew across town to the source of the call.