What I Go To School For (Part Two)

[kuroshokora]

Title: What I Go To School For (Part Two)

Author: kuroshokora

Pairing/characters: Main: Bruce/Dick. Minor/Mentioned: Roy/Various, Clark/Lex, Logan/Scott, Peter/Harry, Harley/Ivy... maybe others later xD

Rating: NC-17 eventually

Warnings: Slash! Fem-slash! Teacher/student relationship! (Dick is over the age of consent)

Summary: AU, DC/Marvel X-Over. Dick Grayson is an orphaned ex-circus performer turned student trying to find his way. Bruce Wayne is a billionaire ex-police detective turned law teacher hiding from the pain of his past. Together, they may find reconciliation.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my laptop and my twisted imagination.

Notes: Basically, I wanted to write a Teacher!Bruce fic. That's where this started. It is AU, so although a lot of the characters have the same basic backstory, don't be surprised if I change a hell of a lot! Most of the supporting characters in this are from DC or Marvel comics so see if you can spot which are from where! Oh, and I should probably point out that since I am English and have never studied Law in an American college, I made most of it up. I have no idea what a Law class is actually like xD but this is how I imagine Bruce teaching. And I know that Poison Ivy is really called Pam, but I prefer her being called Ivy.

Read the first part here: kuroshokora.livejournal.com/2756.html#cutid1


**

"Thanks for the magazine."

"No problem."

Dick handed it back to Scott with a small smile. He had considered asking if he could clip out the article to keep, but decided that might be a considered a little too... weird. So he had settled for going to the library and photocopying it instead. He told himself that he was collecting evidence, playing detective. Practise for his later career and whatnot.

"Did you find out anything?" Logan asked, doodling absently on his notes about Freudian defense theories.

"A bit. Apparently, everybody's surprised as to why he's decided to be a teacher."

"Well, is he any good?"

"Yeah, he's definitely qualified and everything. He used to lecture and he was in the police, so he knows everything."

"Are we talking about Mr Wayne?" Bobby asked, turning around to look eagerly at the older men.

Dick nodded, and Bobby leaned closer as if they were sharing some valuable nugget of gossip.

"Does he teach any of you guys?"

"I'm in his class, yeah."

"What's he like? I mean, is he really messed up? You'd think his mind would be screwed up enough after his folks got killed, I mean, that kind of shit can send a guy around the twist, and then for his whole family to... to..."

Bobby faltered. Logan and Scott may hate each other, but they were momentarily united in the vicious glares they were directing at Bobby, whose eyes were widening in shock.

"Oh crap, Dick, I'm sorry! I didn't mean..."

"It's okay." he answered blankly, looking down at the desk.

Rapidly wilting, Bobby opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish. He wisely decided not to try and get himself out of it, choosing instead to turn around and pay attention to the teacher. Dick spun his pen around his fingers, letting it dance lightly across his knuckles and back again and then twirling it over his fingertips. He was trying not to let it bother him, but it annoyed him how stupid some people could be.

"Ignore that dipshit." Logan said scornfully, loud enough for Bobby to hear "He doesn't know what he's talking about."

"I'm fine," Dick said with a forced grin "Don't worry."

**

He spent his next Law lesson staring at Mr Wayne again, trying to work out exactly how the man worked. He clearly enjoyed his subject, but all of his interactions seemed a little wooden and when you knew it was there, you could spot the divide where he seemed to be acting. After all, Dick knew the experience first-hand. His interest in Mr Wayne was getting worryingly like an obsession, and he had to resist the urge to make notes on the man instead of the lesson. He noticed the way Mr Wayne looked wistfully into the distance when he wasn't talking to the class. He realised that Mr Wayne had a black leather Filofax which he longed to read, just to see if he only made notes on what lessons he was doing, or information on Wayne Industries, or whether there were personal notes he kept for himself.

Honestly, he needed to get over this. He was sure Mr Wayne had spotted him gawping more than a few times. But, he kept spotting things that just made him snap straight back into spy mode. He didn't know if it was coincidence, but he kept picking up on things that the two of them had in common. Or maybe he was just looking out for things... he did get a sort of buzz whenever he spotted one. He heard Mr Wayne humming 'Supernatural Superserious' by REM, one of his favourite songs, and was in a good mood for the rest of the day. He started singing REM songs under his breath for the next few lessons, secretly hoping that Mr Wayne would notice. God knows why.

He found himself making up scenarios in his head, such as Mr Wayne starting up a music conversation and offering to lend him a CD. He... wanted to be friends. He fantasised about giving incredibly intellectual answers and impressing Mr Wayne into making him his favourite pupil, ironically missing out on all the lesson time that could have allowed him to gain the knowledge to become teacher's pet.

What was it about the man? Maybe he saw him as a father figure, somebody to look up to. After his parents' death, he never had that role model. In a way, he felt like he wanted to be looked after. It was nice to imagine Mr Wayne looking out for him, maybe like an older brother who he could joke around with and who could understand him completely. Somebody to talk to about anything without needing to carefully tailor his conversation. It was... wistful thinking. The man was probably nothing like he hoped. After all. he hardly knew him. It was ridiculous to think that the two of them could have such a strong friendship, but it was just... this connection that he felt whenever he looked at him. He couldn't explain it.

**

"You are joking."

Dick narrowed his eyes, scanning Roy's face. Roy raised his arms in a half-shrug, a small grin on his face. His eyes were pleading, however, and Dick realised that he was serious. Roy had said they were going out for the night, but instead of their usual bar, he had driven them to a new Gay-Bi-Trans Society opening up in Gotham Civic Centre. They were sat in Roy's car outside right now, and Dick was feeling confused to say the least.

"You aren't joking..." he said slowly "Have you gone completely batshit crazy?"

"Probably. Whaddya say?"

"Roy... I'm not gay."

"Riiiiight. Bi?"

"No."

Roy narrowed his eyes in return, opening his mouth as though he was about to argue that point, then shrugged again.

"C'mon, Dick. I can't go it alone. I'll be nervous." the auburn-haired man pleaded, clasping his hands in front of his chest but not managing to hide the smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

Dick snorted. Roy, nervous? Maybe when hell froze over. His friend must have some crazy ulterior motive, but he had no idea what it was. Roy's story of wanting to meet 'a new type of lover' was believable at least; weeding out the gay guys in the college wasn't easy, even with Roy's supposed master gaydar. But why did Dick have to go along?

"Am I supposed to pretend I like men, just for you?" he asked scornfully, folding his arms.

"Isn't that reason enough? Come with me, please? It'll be people watching practise for you..."

He grinned reluctantly. It was true that he liked figuring people out, and it would be interesting to see whether he would have guessed that any of these people were gay if he'd passed them in the street. He felt reckless.

"... all right then."

"Yeah? Sweet!" Roy beamed, holding out his hand for a high-five "It'll be fun, getting to know some new people..."

Well, it wasn't like he had anything better to do. Stay in his room and angst? He had said before that he needed a life, so he might as well go... Just so long as Roy didn't desert him to flirt with everybody in the room...

**

This was awkward. He and Roy sat down on a couple of plastic chairs while the rest of the circle of strangers eyed them curiously. Clearly, this was an established group that had been meeting for eons, and they were the 'new boys.' He had a horrible feeling that everybody assumed they were together, a reputation he really wanted to avoid. Not that there was anything wrong with Roy... okay, there was a lot wrong with Roy, but that wasn't the point. He recognised some people from college in the group, and he didn't want any rumours spreading.

"Christ, I feel like I'm back in Narcotics Anonymous..." Roy hissed in his ear "Should I be standing up and saying 'hi, I'm Roy, and I'm a cockoholic'?"

Dick spluttered with laughter, elbowing Roy in the ribs. Roy sat back, tilting his chair onto two legs casually and surveying the rest of the group. Dick did likewise, eyeing each person carefully. There were about fifteen of them in all, one boy he knew was Dr Connor's pet pupil and a couple of girls he recognised instantly as Ivy and Harley, two equally beautiful girls who the boys would be very disappointed to see right now, holding hands and whispering to each other. Or some of the more perverted boys would be delighted. He was surprised to see them actually; the last he had heard, Harley was dating the mysterious Jack Napier, a Goth-type man with dyed green hair and far too much eyeliner who skulked around their college sometimes in garish second hand clothes. Harley herself was a little odd, her own eyes rimmed heavily with kohl and her blonde hair scooped into bunches high on her head. Her red clothes clashed horribly with the green dress her girlfriend was wearing, but somehow they still seemed to fit. Maybe it was their attitudes; relaxed postures and comfortable togetherness, so that they would still look like they were supposed to be together if they were sat at opposite end of the room. It was hard to explain.

He spotted another couple as well, two older men. Maybe they had been together for years. He checked for rings, but an official ceremony didn't mean anything. They had that look in their eyes, the shared love of two people that had slowly merged into one. The impetuous nature of young superficial love was absent, this was no frivolous crush. Nor was it really the insane lust and uncertain passion of the early stages of a relationship. No, this was a slowly crafted bond, most likely built up over time. It made him wonder why they felt the need to come to these meetings apart from spreading borderline smug tales of their rock-steady relationship. Or they could be there to give advice to younger couples. Maybe they had actually met at a group like this themselves.

Dick snapped out of his theories when the door opened and a familiar figure walked in.

"Sorry I'm late, Hal..." the newcomer said to the man who ran the sessions.

Dick gaped as Clark looked over and saw him, freezing like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. For a moment, he looked to be debating whether to turn and run out of the door. But he composed himself, sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the room. Dick continued to starem at him. Clark was gay? He had never really thought about it before. Hadn't Clark told him about a girl he was interested in a few weeks back? Lana? Well, maybe Clark was having problems coming to terms with the fact that he was actually gay, and that was why he was here. That may also explain the guilty fear Clark had displayed when he got caught. Or maybe he was bi, and couldn't understand why he was attracted to men as well as women.

"Okay, we have two new guys with us today, so if we can go quickly aronnd the circle and introduce ourselves?" Hal suggested "I'm Hal, I came out just over ten years ago, and I'm currently in a stable relationship."

They continued around the circle, most members casually stating their names and sexuality without any obvious concern. Dick was beginning to worry about what he himself was going to say. Gay or bi? He was neither, but which one could he better pretend to be? He snapped out of his musing when it was Harley's turn.

"Heyy, I'm Harley, and I'm usually mostly straight." she explained, cuddling against Ivy's shoulder.

"I'm Ivy, and I'm probably gay." the red-head said coolly

He hadn't considered that some people were 'probably' one way or another. It made sense; that was actually most likely why they were here. Two women who had previously thought they were straight, falling in love with each other. It was an interesting idea.

"Uh... I'm Clark, and I think I might be gay...." Clark muttered when it was his turn, avoiding Dick's eyes.

Dick frowned in confusion. Why was it so embarrassing for Clark to admit he was gay to Dick? Because he knew him? Surely it was just as bad for Dick... or would be, if he were actually gay.

"I'm Roy." his friend said confidently with a grin "I'm bisexual, although my best friend Dick calls me pansexual because I'm attracted to most people."

"I'm Dick." he said, swallowing "I'm not exactly sure what to call myself as of yet."

Hal gave him an encouraging smile.

"That's okay; this group are all about helping you find that out. In fact, we have quite a few other issues that we're helping our members work through. Do we have any updates? How about you go first, Peter?

The guy he'd recognised earlier nodded.

"I have a crush on my best friend." he said for Dick and Roy's benefit "And no, I still haven't been able to tell him. He thinks my problem is with our mutual friend, his ex-girlfriend in fact. She's interested in me, and I think I might be leading her on because I'd rather she was going after me than him. He still likes her, I think. But I feel terrible about manipulating her feelings, and I don't think I could carry on pretending if she did try and take things further with me."

Ouch.

"You said before that your friend is definitely straight?" Hal pressed

"Yeah... well, so far as I know. He's only ever shown any interest in girls. I've tried flirting a little with him, but he doesn't do anything back. I think I'm going to have to tell my other friend that I'm not interested in her; I'm not being fair."

"That's probably a wise idea, even if it wouldn't be very fun for you. Let us know how it goes, won't you?"

He turned away to look at his next victim.

"Clark?"

Clark looked up, panic evident in his face. He struggled to calm down again, taking deep breaths.

"I... I think I like this guy. He's a little older than me, and I only see him once a week, but it's enough. He's the only man I've ever felt like this for, but it's stronger than anything I've ever felt for a girl."

He sat up to look defiantly yet nervously over at Dick, who was still confused. For Clark to be acting like that implied that it was somebody Dick knew, so it had to be somebody at Taekwondo class. A man who was older than him at Taekwondo class? He had never really... oh. Their coach, Lex. Suddenly, all of Clark's sucking-up made sense. Did Clark really think that Dick was going to tell Lex how he felt? It wasn't exactly an embarassing crush; Lex wasn't that much older and Dick had to admit that he was very handsome.

He would have tried to convey across the room to Clark that he knew and that it was okay, but Clark was resolutely avoiding his eyes again.

"I still don't think I can tell him, but I'll see how it plays out." he was saying.

"Alright then. So what about you, Dick? Why are you here?"

Oh shit. He was going to have to lie. What could he say? Roy wasn't going to be of any help; he looked as though he was about to start laughing.

"I.... um... I haven't been in many relationships with girls, and I've turned down quite a few before now. I though that I just wasn't interested in dating in general. But I've started thinking about men and being with men and I'm beginning to think that maybe I just don't like relationships with girls because maybe I want to be with men instead."

Well, that sounded kind of plausible. He'd made it up from his own circumstances as well, so it ought to sound more believable.

"How long have you been wondering this?"

"Ah... few months?" he tried "Maybe two or three..."

Hal nodded, and the rest of the circle all seemed to be nodding and looking knowing. He must have said something right.

"Well, then Dick, I guess that only time will tell. If you try a relationship with a man, and see how it works."

"Yeah, I'm just... waiting for a guy I really want to be with." he invented

"That's a good idea. Let us know how it goes."

He nodded in agreement. Phew. He knew he was a good actor, but had been seriously worried about whether he could pull that off. Now he just wanted to go home. He still didn't understand why Roy had wanted to come here. He wasn't having fun anymore.

The rest of the session passed by with different people talking about their worries and concerns. One kid barely older than fourteen had come out at school and was being picked on, another had been rejected by the object of their affections. He hated sitting here, a fraud amongst people trusting him with their deepest emotional secrets. He knew for sure that he was never going to another meeting, and told Roy so the minute they were back in the car.

"Okay, okay..." his friend allowed reluctantly "I don't know if I'll go back either. It was kinda lame."

Dick glowered, his thoughts filled with Clark and Lex. He had barged into Clark's deepest darkest and clearly most shameful thoughts and although that made him feel sorry that he had ever agreed to come to this meeting, it also filled him with a new challenge. Namely, working out if Lex felt the same and getting the two of them together. He was no Emma Woodhouse- and no, he had read the Jane Austen novel for a class, not because he enjoyed romance novels... honest...- but he could do a little light matchmaking for his friend.

**

Dick loved his motorbike. He loved it more than Roy loved sex or Donna loved chocolate. He loved it more than Romeo loved Juliet, more than Echo loved Narcissus or indeed more than Narcissus loved himself. The bond between himself and his bike was greater than between Scarlett and Rhett, more electrifying than Danny and Sandy, more powerful chemistry than Jane and Rochester. The feeling of the wind whipping his black hair behind his head as he sped down the roads, his wheels dancing along the tarmac and his bike warm and roaring beneath him as the two of them practically flew through the air. He darted in and out of the cars that crept along like snails compared to him on his humming metal steed.

It was something that never failed to calm him down. When he was wound up or angry or upset, he let the speed and the adrenaline take him over, the danger of dodging obstacles and going far too fast for safety and everything in his mind just melting away for the moment with the cold air beating on his skin and the surrounding landscape blurring into light and colours. It made every journey into a fantastic experience in its own right.

Currently, he was on his way to the gym. He went every Friday, working out furiously on the machines to keep himself healthy and fit; another excellent means of escape. He was considering getting a membership, but after treating himself to his bike and all the money he had spent on doing her up, he didn't want to splurge any more of the inheritance he had got from his parents. He had only just come into the money, having not been of age for very long, and he wasn't going to spend it stupidly. Maybe he ought to get himself a part-time job to buy the little things he wanted.

He parked his bike outside, petting the handlebars lightly and then proceeding to chain her securely to the railings. He checked and then double-checked that nobody would be able to steal her without a pair of heavy duty boltcutters, and besides, there was a Yamaha parked right next to it without anything at all stopping it from being nicked. Any smart thief would aim for that one, even if his bike was undoubtedly the better of the two.

After paying his entry fee and changing into his tank top, sweat pants and lightweight sneakers, he made his way straight to the cross-trainer. He went through his usual ritual, positioning his water bottle and pulling his mp3 player out of his pocket. He set it to shuffle on medium volume and then positioned himself on the pedals, changing the speed on the computer to Level Six. It wasn't the highest level, but he didn't want to tire out too soon.

He pushed his legs forwards leisurely to Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, checking the clock on the display and deciding that he'd have ten minutes on this machine and then move on to the treadmill. He closed his eyes, letting his arms and legs move naturally while he sank into the music. Dick probably had the most varied music collection on campus, some music made him happy, some made him sad... some music he felt that he could completely identify with, although he did draw the line at hip hop. He had a bit of Eminem, but that was it. He had odd tunes he heard on the radio then downloaded, music he heard other people playing, even some Debussy and Bach to help him relax.

After Queen, the music shifted into Warning by Green Day. He hummed along, pounding his legs along in time to the rhythm and opening his eyes to check how much he'd done. He'd done two miles apparently, although he found that hard to believe. Two minutes to go. His music shifted into Cyndi Lauper's Girls Just Want To Have Fun... no comment... and he scanned the room. The usual suspects dotted around, the eager bodybuilder with thighs thicker than Dick's head, the women trying to lose weight after their birthday binge or nights out. He paused, the momentum carrying his feet around a full circle as he spotted a familiar figure.

He checked his clock. It was time to move on anyway, so he hopped off the machine and paused his music. Instead of going to his usual treadmill, he decided to go on the one where he'd be able to see the rowing machine where his law teacher was working out. He pressed play, pretending not to have seen Mr Wayne in front of him. He surreptiously peered at the other man from under the tendrils of hair falling into his face. Mr Wayne was staring into space, his muscles contracting as his arms strained on what had to be the hardest settting on the machine. Dick admired the man's strength; he would never attempt such a difficult setting. Or if he did, he'd be way too tired to do anything else. Mr Wayne was extremely well-built as he'd previously noted, but not to ridiculous levels. Dick often saw men in the gym who were all muscle, so built up that their heads were tiny, looking like they were balancing precariously on the mountain of hard flesh.

His teacher had got up, wiping his brow and heading towards the machine Dick had just vacated. Dick resisted the urge to follow him, although he was a little annoyed that he could no longer see the man. He wondered if Mr Wayne had seen him, or whether he would have even recognised him. Maybe he had remembered the face, but not quite been able to place where it was from. He frowned, running faster as that annoying thought struck him. He didn't want to be ignored.

He ran for a little while longer, his mp3 player now apparently in a power ballad phase. He began to fantasise about Mr Wayne coming over here of his own accord, and asking him how he was and congratulating him for doing so well in class. He imagined being told that he had the potential to do whatever he wanted, and telling Mr Wayne that he wanted to be a cop. He imagined Mr Wayne looking surprised at yet another similarity between them and promising to help Dick follow his dream. God, he was pathetic. Did he need reassurance that badly?

After the treadmill, he moved to the weights. He could see Mr Wayne fairly well from this position, and was hoping that they had both paid for an hour and would therefore be leaving at the same time. Mr Wayne didn't look to be the social type, and he knew that it would most likely need to be him who engineered a conversation.

Mr Wayne left the room before Dick was due to, and he debated whether to follow or wait until his hour was up and then go and waylay him in the changing rooms. The first option won, but he waited for a minute so the other man wouldn't think it was on purpose. After the last bars of Ultravox's Vienna died down, he made his way to the showers. He washed quickly, grabbing his bike gear and pulling on his thick jeans while looking around for Mr Wayne. He spotted him on the other side of the room, already changed into tailored trousers and a neat shirt. No tie, but Dick wouldn't have been surprised.

"Hey," Dick greeted, pulling on his leather jacket and striding forwards. Mr Wayne looked up in surprise.

"Oh, hello Richard."

"Call me Dick."

He almost winced at how stupid he sounded.

"Everybody does. I haven't been called Richard for years."

"...Dick." Mr Wayne nodded.

"I... uh, haven't seen you here before." Dick continued, trying to keep him talking "I come every Friday. I'd come more often, but it's pretty expensive when it adds up."

"My gym is being refitted."

Dick blinked. When he said gym... did he mean a different public gym closer to where he lived, or did he actually have his own gym? He had to say, with muscles like those, he was leaning more towards the idea of Mr Wayne having his own personal set of equipment. He wouldn't have to worry about the price of keeping fit.

"Oh?" was his clever response.

"I'm getting some more gymnastic equipment," the billionaire explained "It'll soon be too cold for Tim, my son, to practise on the outdoor assault course, so I'm reproducing some of it indoors."

Son? Had Mr Wayne remarried after his first wife was killed? Dick didn't like the idea, probably because it ruined the profile he'd built for Mr Wayne in his head. It made him feel unhealthily irritated.

"How old is your son?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant

"Eleven." Mr Wayne answered "He's been living with me for quite a few years now. He's not my biological son; I adopted him after his parents were killed."

"...."

That had surprised him. He hadn't pictured Mr Wayne as likely to take in orphans, although the research he had done on the internet showed that he was a philanthropist who gave regularly to worthy causes and charities.

"He's lucky." Dick said quietly, and then added after Mr Wayne's questioning look "I would have given anything to be adopted after I was made an orphan. I grew up in an orphanage."

Mr Wayne didn't look surprised at the news, in fact he looked as though it had confirmed something he had already suspected. Maybe Dick wasn't the only one who had noticed the eye thing.

"Where do you live now? I know that children don't stay in the care of the state after they come of age."

"At the moment I'm living in the dorms at school. When I have to, I go to my friends' houses. When I leave college, I'll use the money my parents left me to rent an apartment. I'll be working by that time as well."

"That's... a nice plan."

Dick nodded. Nice? He supposed. It was the only logical plan, really. He wasn't sure whether he liked Mr Wayne nosing into his past. It did feel kind of nice that the man he was beginning to admire was paying an interest in him. And after all, he had been researching Mr Wayne's past, so it was fair. There were just some places that he didn't like people going, he didn't like people barging into what happened to his parents. It was hard enough for him to think about what had happened without being forced into it.

"Dick?"

He looked up.

"Yeah?"

"Are you busy this weekend?"

His eyes widened in surprise.

"Um, no, I don't think so. Why...?"

"I was... wondering if you wanted to come and try out my gym. It's big enough, and it will definitely be ready for use by Sunday. I mean, if you want to...."

Dick's jaw dropped. That hadn't even been a scenario he'd wished for. He hadn't entertained anything like that as a possibility.

"S-sure..." he stammered "Thanks."

Was this out of pity? Maybe Mr Wayne saw him as another damaged kid to add to his collection. But he had seen pity before, he saw it everytime he mentioned his parents or his old life, and this did not look like pity. It looked like... just a kind gesture. Dick had mentioned he couldn't afford to come to the gym as much as he liked, so Mr Wayne was offering him the chance for some free exercise. Another good deed from Mr Generous.

"Do you know where I live?"

He'd printed Wayne Manor off Multimap and memorised the route weeks ago.

"Um... I think so. Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"All right then. Come by sometime after one."

He left without a backwards look, and Dick sat down on a bench heavily. That was... bizarre. He had an invite to Wayne Manor by his law teacher. Even in his head it sounded stupid.

**

He didn't consciously make the decision not to tell anybody where he was going, but when Roy asked him if he wanted to take the train to Metropolis and go around the shops that Sunday, he found himself hunting for a lie to use.

"I have a Taekwondo meet." was the first thing he came up with "Sorry."

"No probs, I'll ask Wally."

He didn't know if it was because the situation was so weird, or because he knew that everybody else would think it was a bigger deal than it was, but he was keeping his mouth shut. Thinking about it, about the way the older man had just randomly asked him to come round, it just made his stomach twist up. He was both nervous and excited and he didn't know why it was such a big deal.

Sunday came eventually, and he was sat on his bed with a sports bag containing his gym wear. Waiting. Come by sometime after one? So should he make that five past one, half one... he could get there in about half an hour, so if he set off now, he would arrive exactly at one. He should wait just a little longer and then set off. He needed to calm down. Why was he getting so edgy about this? He guessed that maybe it was because this was a friendship that he wanted, one that he would really need to work at. One that he doubted Mr Wayne wanted, but that he was determined to make happen.

He and his bike powered down the road on the way to Wayne Manor. It was huge, far bigger than it looked in the photos, and he had no idea where he was supposed to park his bike. Fortunately there was a man out there already waiting, an oldish guy in a penguin suit. A butler? Wow, this was getting too posh.

"Master Dick Grayson?" the man asked in a formal British accent.

"Um, yeah?" he asked, putting one foot on the ground to stabilise the bike.

"Follow me."

The butler took around the corner, showing him where to leave his bike. He then led him back up to the front of the house.

"I am Alfred Pennyworth," he said as they crossed the threshold.

"Um, pleased to meet you." Dick answered awkwardly.

"And I you. Master Bruce does not often take guests."

"Yeah, about that.... do you know why he invited me...?"

"I'm afraid not, sir."

Dick tried not to gawp like an idiot peasant as he was led past room after room. This place was even bigger from the inside. How could there be enough types of rooms? Bedrooms, bathrooms, libraries.... from the amount of doors he was passing, he wouldn't be surprised if Alfred told him that Mr Wayne had a seperate room for each outfit.

"Here we are, sir. This is the gym. Master Bruce will be up shortly; he is just finishing up a few things."

Alfred pushed open the door, and Dick almost fainted. Gym? He had expected a set of machines, maybe a climbing frame type affair, but instead... a huge spacious room with not only machines but the most incredible array of gymnastic equipment he'd ever seen. He changed quickly, wondering where to start. He climbed with agile grace to the top of a ladder, somersaulting down and landing hands-first on the trampoline below, propelling himself back into an easy flip and tucking his arms and legs into his body for a backwards roll. He threw himself through the air to catch a bar, swinging himself around it and landing on a thick mat below. Barely stopping to catch his breath, he ran up a metal frame to fling himself at the rings hanging from the ceiling. These were fantastic. He swung forwards, his body arcing through the air as he caught another ring a few metres away and hung off it with one hand. He pulled himself up effortlessly to hang upside with a leg hooked through two rings.

The door opened, and a figure came in. Dick rocked forwards on his thigh muscles and threw himself into mid-air. He spun forwards in six quick somersaults, bouncing off the catch net. He sat up, unable to hide the wide grin on his face. Mr Wayne smiled.

"Are you enjoying yourself then, Dick?"

"It's... amazing." he breathed, his nerves forgotten "I've been practising my skills and keeping my body supple but I haven't been on decent equipment since I was eight."

After Mr Wayne's curious look, Dick added

"I used to be in the circus. Me and my family, we had a trapeze act. The Flying Graysons. But then... then they died and I..."

He looked at his hands in amazement. He never talked about his parents to anybody, how had he managed to let that much slip without even thinking about it? Mr Wayne stepped forwards, looking as if he wanted to pat Dick on the shoulder but thinking better of it. At least he didn't say 'I'm sorry' automatically and look uncomfortable as most people did.

"Well that explains your skill on the rings. What else can you do?"

Dick's confused expression was split by a smile. He moved decisively to two sets of bars, similar to those used in high jumps only a lot more solid and in two different heights. He jumped up to grab the lower one, using only his arms to swing himself around as though he was completely weightless. He stood up in a handstand, effortlessly supporting his entire weight and then shifting to twist himself and turn around, spinning the other way. He wasn't scared of falling, he never had been. His parents had always been there to catch him when he was little, and now he was good enough to catch himself. He leapt towards the next bar, curling his legs over it and using only them for his next circulation, letting himself fall right off but grabbing hold with his hands at the last minute and quickly flipping back into another handstand, doing the splits in the air so his body formed a T shape. He bounced up on his hands to spread his arms, repositioning his legs so his body was more like an X, then bringing his legs back down so that he was bent in on himself, his legs against his face. He held that position for a moment, then let himself swing back round. He let go of the bar, doing a somersault then a sideways twist, managing to still land on his feet.

He did another split, then lay on his stomach and stretched his legs so that his feet brushed his hair. Then he jumped back up, running forwards and then doing a couple of cartwheels and a flip, jumping up to flip backwards and land on his hands then push himself upright, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet and jumping into the air to do another split while air-borne, then landing in a crouch, panting slightly from exertion. Mr Wayne was staring at him.

"That was pretty impressive."

"Thank you," Dick said happily.

The adrenaline was still flowing through him, and he could almost feel endorphins swirling through his brain and exploding into exciting diamonds in front of his eyes. This was literally the stuff of dreams. He dreamt about flying, falling off tall buildings and gliding through the air, his limbs cutting through the wind as he twisted through it like a bird without wings. He couldn't have that; he didn't have some kind of insane powers that allowed him to fly with absolutely nothing to support him, but he was sure that this was the next best thing. It was almost good as he remembered the trapeze being.

"It's good to see you happy," Mr Wayne remarked while Dick got his breath back "In my classes, you look so... lost, sometimes."

Dick almost laughed when the adjective he had used to describe Mr Wayne was repeated back about him.

"I feel lost, sometimes." he admitted, sobering up.

"Yes."

Did that mean that Mr Wayne felt that way as well? He was sure that he wasn't imagining it.

"Thank you, sir, for letting me come here, I..."

He stopped as the other man held his hand up with a small smile.

"Please, don't call me 'sir' out of class. My name is Bruce."

"Bruce..."

"And you're welcome. Like I said, there is no point in you paying for half decent gym equipment when I have a fine array for you to use. Feel free to come around anytime."

"Really? I... thanks!"

He was dreaming again, he had to be. Why was everything going so well? Why was his crappy life suddenly going right?