bought_the_bank | Beneath A Full Moon

The emphasis Dick purposefully places warps his amusement into mild irritation. He's never responded well to having the double standard pointed out, either directly or indirectly. If Dick was willing to bring up the kitchen incident though, Bruce knows he's definitely concerned. Given the state of the ankle, legitimately concerned. The scenery isn't the only thing that's kept him in the patio chair but he'll never admit it.

"If it's not marginally better by tomorrow, I'll have it looked at when we get back." All told after driving, that's three days away. If he's looking to appease Dick, it's a poor attempt.

Dick's expression is unimpressed, it's close to agreeing to actually do something about the injury, but it's not exactly the option he was looking for, and while getting any headway at all with Bruce was practically a victory, it wasn't one he was going to be satisfied with today.

"I was thinking Leslie could take a look at it. A proper look, I mean. And if she says it needs X-rays or a cast or anything, you have to do what she says." he says sternly - it's not that impressive a tone coming from him, he doesn't quite have Bruce's gravitas, but it's obvious he's serious "which is why I asked her to come down here for the day tomorrow."

His irritation ramps right up into anger, which he turns on Dick in the form of a hardened glare. Only he can roll a name, a curse, and a warning all into one utterance. "Dick."

He doesn't appreciate being outmaneuvered, especially by his own son. Alfred and Leslie fall into a truly unique group of two, able to direct Bruce as long suffering parents would an uncooperative child. They always have his best interests at heart and without fail, get their way. To call Leslie now and tell her not to come would be rude. He wouldn't do that to her.

Dick can see the anger in the glare, but while it made criminals flee in terror, it crashed around him harmlessly and he tried his very best not to look as smug as he felt - it wasn't often he got one over on Bruce after all. He didn't want Bruce to be angry at him, but he'd gladly take it if it meant his father would get the medical attention he obviously needed.

Although he knew he didn't have enough influence to make him do too much, that was why he'd called in the big guns.

"You can wipe that look off your face."

"What look? I don't know what look you're talking about..." Dick protests, trying to sound as innocent as possible despite the urge to laugh "how could you say such things to your eldest son, when he was just trying to help..."

It's enough to take the edge off his anger. When he replies with a friendly threat of revenge, his expression is still serious. "You won't know when... You won't know where... But you'll know why."

"Hmm, I'm not sure I will," Dick says, slouching down in his chair a little and taking a satisfied sip of his hot chocolate "I mean, let's face it, at this point there's a list of possible motives..."

There's some truth to that.

"I'm still bitter about the last time you drugged my coffee." Although it's clear from his tone, he's not really as bitter as he says he is.

"You don't sleep in four days, you get drugged coffee, that's just how it goes, I don't make the rules." although he had made that one. Or at least the solution to it, nobody liked any of the assorted bat brigade when they'd had too little sleep, but the lot of them were too stubborn to listen to anybody telling them to get some rest, especially Bruce, so drugs it was.

"The hallucinations were manageable."

To say nothing of the wild irritable mood swings above and beyond his normal cheerful self and the micronap he experienced behind the wheel of the batmobile on the third day. He must have been hell to live with.

"There is no such thing as a manageable hallucination," Dick shook his head disapprovingly

"You know, you look after an awful lot of people, you really should look after yourself more." it wasn't the first time he'd said something similar, and he knew it wasn't likely to be the last.

Bruce's reaction isn't perhaps what Dick might expect based on his previous responses. The smile starts off small on his face and gradually works its way up into a self-satisfied and knowing grin, like he's enjoying a private joke. Some day Dick is going to become a parent himself and all of this will come full circle. Grandchildren are a grandparents' best revenge. Assuming he lives long enough to see it.

"What time did Leslie say she'd be here?"

If Dick didn't know for certain that Bruce hadn't hit his head recently, he'd worry that the smile meant he had concussion, instead it just made him worry that the older man was planning something, or had realised something that Dick hadn't yet - whatever it was it would bite Dick in the ass at some point, he just knew it.

"You have a couple more hours, and you know I'll just track you if you try and make a run for it, so don't even try." he paused for a moment before chuckling "or a hop for it, anyway."

"That sounds like a challenge," he comments casually. Dick may have just inadvertently committed himself to keeping both eyes on Bruce until Leslie arrives. If Dick turns his back, he might very well find that once occupied chair vacant.

"Oh no." Dick would facepalm but that would give Bruce just the opening he's looking for. Instead he twists his chair round and drags his gaze away from the beautiful sky to fix it on his father with a stubborn expression.

"Congratulations, you have now earned yourself a staring contest until she gets here."

Dick doesn't actually have to follow through on the gesture for Bruce to envision it. His reaction to the implication was well worth the innocently dropped comment. In this instance however, he really has no intention of following through. The only place he might hop to is the living room. The temperature outside continues to fall.

"I'm not going anywhere, Dick." His tone of voice says it all.

"Better not be," Dick grumbles, settling back into his chair, though he still keeps his eye on Bruce. He's contemplating fetching another blanket and a top up on his hot chocolate, but he doesn't entirely trust Bruce not to immediately move the second he takes his eyes off him - he might not move far, but while the conversation is still fresh in their mind he's pretty sure his father would do it just to make mischief. He definitely would, if their roles were reversed.

"What do you want to do while we're here, anyway?"

His instincts are good. He'd come back to find his father has shifted to the other chair, being true to his word but not to the spirit. Just because he could. And because he knows it would irritate Dick.

"I was going to drag you and Tim up to the falls tomorrow." A short nine mile hike up into the hills, a secret from childhood explorations lost past he's never shared. He doubts that's going to happen now, a fact that elicits disappointment. It was also supposed to get Dick out of the house while Alfred decorated and baked for his birthday party.

Dick just sighed, shaking his head at his father's antics, dropping a second blanket over him as he took a seat in the recently vacated chair with his own blanket and topped up hot chocolate (with more marshmallows, of course).

"Well we'll see what Lesley has to say..." Dick said slowly, a little disappointed - it sounded like a good bonding experience, and who knew when they'd get the chance to come up here again "and if not we'll figure something else out to do tomorrow..."

The quick change isn't without a price. Just the few seconds of movement is enough to set the ankle throbbing again. Overall, well worth Dick's reaction. He does however shift subtly, trying once again to find that sweet spot as he thanks Dick for the blanket. He wonders if this is how Leslie will find them later. Camped out in the chairs, asleep across from each other under the stars, empty mugs sitting on the deck...

"What do you want for your birthday?" As if he doesn't have something ready for him for tomorrow and something else waiting for him back home.

"World peace," Dick quipped with a cheeky smile, though after a slightly more serious think about it he shrugged.

"I don't know, spending time with you is present enough, you know? Just get me a big box of cornflakes or something," he chuckled "though you're cutting it a bit fine to ask, aren't you?"

There was a period in Dick's life when he would have considered spending time with Bruce a curse rather than a present. His father is glad that time has passed.

"You are a cornflake," he easily throws back at him.

"It's never too early to ask for next year."

"Golden and delicious, why thank you old man I am, aren't I?" He retorted with a cheeky grin.

"Oooh that means you already have my present. What is it? What did you get me? Is it here?" Never let it be said that Dick was not still very much in touch with his inner child

He just grins and lays his head comfortably against the chair back, answering none of Dick's quick questions. If Dick wasn't keeping a self-appointed watch, Bruce knows he'd be bolting for the house right about now to begin his search. Good thing it's been expertly hidden.

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Sorry for the delay! Also the mental image of grandpa Bruce is perfect and precious

No worries! lol. He's going to be such a grumpy old man.

Re: No worries! lol. He's going to be such a grumpy old man.

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