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Batman has come up recently from the Cave. He's eaten a small dinner, with Alfred fussing over him to eat more. He's spent forty five minutes reading the blotter, catching up on the crime news. He pays no attention to the sports or even the headlines. He might flick through business, in the morning, but not now. Daytime was for that kind of business.
He had other business at night.
He looks annoyed when the security system lets him know that someone's approaching. Then just watches as Dick appears in front of the cameras, "Show him in, Alfred,' he says over the intercom.
He's dressed in a black cartigan, white linen shirt, slacks and slippers. He has not seen Dick Grayson in at least two years."
*
Nightwing is, on the other hand, dressed in a mish-mash of culturally exotic clothes and he looks like he hasn't shaved in a couple weeks and hasn't cut his hair in even longer underneath his colorful South American Chullo hat. His pants seem like they're from India, his mittens and boots from Nepal, and his sheepskin coat from Australia. There's a smirk as gates and doors open for him and he sets down his hiking backpack and duffel bag for only a moment before reaching to give Alfred a great big hug whether he wants it or not.
"Thanks for letting me in. Was that your doing or did he give the 'ok'?" He and Bruce didn't leave on the best of terms so he was half-expecting to be turned away…if Bruce had any say about it.
Darting to pick up his things before Alfred can try to take them, he asks, "Where is His Grumpiness?" They should probably talk before he makes himself too comfortable.
Truth be told, he was half-tempted to crash in one of the Safehouses in the City and come calling the next day.
*
Alfred gives the prodigal a hug, perhaps against protocol, and leads him inside, "Of course he approved, Master Dick. If he hadn't, we'd be enjoying our reunion outside the fence. I may be fond of you, but I'm still a butler," he says.
Alfred leads him to the study, where Bruce waits by the fire, the papers set aside for the moment. There's no hug, but there is the offer of a handshake as he rises from his chair, "Dick," he says. "Long time."
*
Dick just sort of rolls his eyes as Alfred states that their reunion would be elsewhere if he truly wasn't allowed in. "Incredible…" is murmured as he follows Alfred into the study. He's familiar with most rooms in the mansion and he glances around briefly to see if there have been any changes. Force of habit, really.
The handshake gets a look for a moment before he sets his bags down and removes his mittens, "Bruce. Yeah, well, it was hard to check in from some of the places I went. No phones and all that…" although he probably sent Alfred a postcard every now and then. It's another moment before he pulls his hat off and pushes too-long hair from his face. "I, uh…figured I'd check in…" because he had a lot of time to think about how he left things. Maybe Bruce wasn't -entirely- in the wrong.
*
Bruce nods, "Of course. I've kept track of your movements, to a degree, but I didn't want you to feel as if I was stepping on your toes. I know you wanted a chance to be…independent," he says. They had, indeed, parted with harsh words, but Bruce didn't particularly hold hard feelings. His lack of feelings, of course, was often part of the problem between them. At any rate, it was water under the bridge.
"Are you planning to stay? Alfred, I'm sure, would be happy to get your old room in order. Or you could use one of the apartments in the city, if you'd like," he says. "Perhaps a building with a barber?" he says with a near-smile.
*
"You make it sound like you gave into a kid who threw a temper tantrum," Dick smiles, but he isn't entirely joking. "I figured I could stay for a night or so…get some sleep…and then I can be out of your hair." Whether it's one of the apartments owned by Wayne or one he gets for himself is unclear still.
At the mention of 'hair', there's a chuckle, "Yeah. That's tomorrow. It's hard to find a barber in Nepal," and honestly, it wasn't a priority. Blue eyes flick to Alfred for a moment before he starts, "I don't want to interrupt your plans." Whatever is meant by that. "If you want, I can pack up and move in a couple of days."
*
Bruce agrees, "I remember that about Nepal. I had quite a beard when I walked out of there myself," he says. "As long as you like. It's a big house, you're not going to get 'in my hair'," he says.
"Speaking of my plans - do you plan to stay in the city? And do you plan to work?" he says. He's clearly not referring to whether or not Dick is going to get a part-time job or take up carpentry. There's only one kind of work that matters to Bruce.
*
"Does whether or not I stay in the city affect your plans?" Whether or not he does anything? It -would- be nice to be in a familiar place for a little bit, but Dick has been moving around so much for the last couple of years, one more place won't be that big of a deal. It will, sadly, be without Alfred though. "I mean, I wouldn't want to get into your hair there either. And to answer your question, 'Maybe'? I guess I need to see what's happened since I left."
*
Batman returns to his seat, steepling his hands, "Of course it would affect my plans. Any players on the board need to be taken into consideration. But that's not a bad thing," he says. "I won't pressure you about it. I understand that perhaps I rode herd on you a little - perhaps a lot," he says, looking slightly aside. "I can't undo that. But we can try to move forward," he says.
"You don't have to be my partner, Dick. But I would like it if you could be…my friend," he says softly.
*
'Players on the Board'…like it's all a big game of chess. Maybe it is to Bruce and maybe that's how he can remain so dispassionate about everything. There's the beginning of a familiar scowl beginning to form but as Bruce continues and says something -other- than what was expected, the expression changes. There's puzzlement but the last few quiet words are the ones that strike him speechless.
There's a long, pregnant pause before he answers with a simple, "All right." To what isn't clarified.
*
Bruce nods as if that's decided. It's not forgiveness and it's not a settling of the issues between them, but he takes it as an agreement to try to move forward, at any rate. "As you probably are aware, I've begun to be active in the full Batman persona. As I expected, the underworld's reacting with fear and confusion, serving its desired purpose. I've most recently being working in Chinatown against Triad interests, mostly human trafficking," he says, matter of factly.
"While you're here, you may be aware that Virginia Potts, whom I've recently hired to be CFO at Wayne Enterprises, will be in and out on a regular basis, until her office is fully prepared and to give her a research space to go through the books without prying eyes," he says. "Be polite to her, please?"
*
There's a nod at the mention of the Batman persona and the workings in Chinatown against trafficking. He managed to get a few papers to read on the airplane ride back from Europe. But the next statement has him doing a double-take. "Are you kidding me? Potts? Wasn't she Tony Stark's assistant at Stark Industries? Are you completely insane?"
He then glances about as if expecting her to come out of the woodwork somewhere in the Study, "She's going to be in and out -here-? At the Manor? Have you -completely- lost your mind??" And there it is.
*
Bruce takes a long sip of his water, "I'm well aware of Miss Potts' previous employment. While she was officially his assistant, she did much of the same work she'll be doing for me - handling day to day affairs, overseeing transactions, keeping the board in line. She's sharp and she's capable," he says.
"As for my sanity, I'm sure some would have opinions about the matter, but I'm satisfied with the state of my psychiatric health," he says. "I fail to see how any of these provokes such a dramatic reaction, but, then, I often had trouble following the vagaries of your outbursts, Dick," he sighs.
*
"That's because you have the emotions of a rock, Bruce…and apparently the interpersonal relations of one as well. You're letting Someone. From Stark. Into YOUR Business. Hello? I'm not even the Businessman and even -I- know she's a spy!" It's so very obvious! He moves back towards his bags and hefts the backpack onto his shoulder.
"Thanks for the invitation, but I won't stay here. I won't risk a spy of Stark's…or -anyone- figuring out that I'm the new guy behind the mask showing up. You're asking for trouble with her, Bruce. If you must, keep her at work, but don't bring her here."
*
Batman raises an eyebrow, "Stark let her go months ago, due to some personal issues which she's putting behind her. If you think it was an elaborate ruse, in which he was taking the chance that I, of my own free will, would decide to make her an offer, then you give Stark more credit than I do," he says.
"She can find as much searching around the house as any errant party guest at the Wayne Charity Gala who wandered from the ballroom. Unless you're crediting her with additional skills as some manner of superspy, capable of penetrating my very carefully crafted security measures," he says. "How has Stark crossed you, to make you so very paranoid, Dick?"
*
"It's nothing to do with Stark himself…what, is it because she's gorgeous? Isn't that why she was hired in the first place elsewhere?" Dick shakes his head, "You're blind. Blind and naive, Bruce. After all these years, doing all this in secret and never letting anyone except for me and Alfred in…and now you're going to basically hand our secrets over to some stranger? If she was 'ordinary', you wouldn't have hired her, would you?"
He bends down to grab the handles of his duffel bag, "You taught me about keeping secrets. That our identity was so very important. I've been keeping things separate, just like you have, and I've had to destroy relationships and friendships in order to preserve it. And now you're asking me to put it at risk for a new employee of your's?"
*
Nightwing adds, "It's not necessarily her, you know. If you told me you hired Susie Q as your new Assistant and she was coming here, I'd say the exact same thing."
*
Batman raises an eyebrow, "Put it at risk? Dick, we've had guests many times. Employees have stayed over. We've had charity sleepovers for at-risk youth in the Great Hall," he says. "The only way she'll learn anything is if we fail to be discrete. Hence why I warned you of her presence. Be discrete," he says.
"And her relative attractiveness has nothing to do with it, other than an advantage it might provide in keeping the chauvenists on the board off-guard. And shame on you for thinking all she has to offer is her looks, for that matter. I taught you to look beyond such things," he says. "I can do these things with confidence because I -have- taken the necessary measures to safeguard my secrets. I am neither blind nor naive and, if you think that I am, you really weren't paying attention."
*
"I won't need discretion. I won't be here." Dick's made that decision, at least. "You know what? It's not my business. I'll be keeping my own secrets, thank you very much." And Bruce had better keep it as well. Maybe he's just jetlagged, but this is -not- sitting well with him. "I'll just…crash for a couple of hours and I'll be gone long before business hours start."
There's a sigh of exasperation, "I'm not saying that all she has to offer is her looks. I'm just saying maybe you're blinded by them. God knows, it's about time you noticed someone."
*
Bruce sighs and nods, "As you like. The apartments in the city are yours to use, if you like. I don't expect she'll be showing up at those," he says. "And I'm not blinded. Honestly, I've only had a few meetings with her, although I've been observing her and doing research for some time before bringing her on," he says.
He nods, though, when Dick decides to let it go. In truth, he isn't particularly in the mood to have his decisions questioned and Dick, for all his skill and ability, always offered plenty of backseat driving in the package. Or, at least, he had towards the end of their partnership.
"I'm sure Alfred would be happy to make some of your favorites. He hasn't made pot roast since you left - I think he was withholding it to punish me," he says.
*
"Thanks. I'll let you know if I choose one." Or he might rent a place on his own. Dick hesitates at the mention of his favorite food but then offers, "I'm only going to crash for a little bit. Then I'll head out." Once the barber-shops are open.
As he got older, of course he began to question Bruce. It's how he learned to be his own person and not just some automaton to take orders and give assistance. The last few years were just the honing of that independence. There's nothing like traveling the world to learn who you are.
At the mention of Alfred withholding the pot roast, "I'm sure you deserved it."
*
Bruce snorts and takes up his paper, leaning back into the recliner to return to his perusing. Dick's return, of course, ignites a surfeit of emotions in the taciturn man. The likelihood of him expressing any of those in front of Dick is as likely as him making a version of his costume in pink.
So, there IS a chance, just not a good one.
*