Breakfast Guests

The first time it happened Dick was nine and a half. It was a Sunday morning and he’d been allowed to sleep in after staying up late to finish watching a movie so he didn’t make it down to the family dining room until almost nine-thirty. He’d been living at Wayne Manor for about eight months and things had settled into a routine that was starting to become comfortable.

Usually Bruce was up and gone, either to work or down in the gym, hours before that, but this morning he was sitting at the table eating his own breakfast and seated beside him, in Dick’s usual place, was a stranger.

She was pretty; Dick noticed that right away; blonde hair, big green eyes and a pair of really big... She looked old, maybe twenty or even twenty-five but Bruce seemed to be enjoying her being there and he was usually pretty grumpy before he’d had his workout and then about three cups of coffee. Oh well, maybe he’d already had his exercise and who knew how many times his cup had been refilled?

“There you are, I was just wondering when you’d make an appearance. Miss Stevens, this is my ward, Dick Grayson. Dick, this is Miss Stevens.”

“Hi.” The boy hung back just the slightest bit, unsure what he was supposed to do, leave or stay? He’d wait for some kind of a cue.

She had one of those fake smiles adults use when they don’t like kids but don’t want anyone to know that. It was pretty lame. “Well, hello there and please call me Katie. I’ve heard an awful lot about you and all of it was completely awesome!—I really hope we can be friends, what do you say?” She had this big, stupid smile she was directing more to Bruce than to Dick and the boy noticed things like that, maybe Bruce would, too. Like she didn’t care if he liked her or not, just so long as Bruce thought she did.

“Master Dick, I must ask you to eat up as you’re expected over at softball practice in less than half an hour. If you’d be so kind…?”

“Okay, Alfred, no problem.” Cramming a piece of toast into his mouth and washing it down with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice he was finished inside of two minutes and out the door. The Bentley was waiting by the front door, the woman—Katie’s—“I hope I see you soon, honey” followed by an awkward and unwanted hug hanging in the air.

The practice went well. Dick knew this wasn’t his sport but if it made Bruce happy, well, it wasn’t a big deal. It was sort of too bad that there wasn’t a gymnastics academy around or maybe even a circus workshop he could take. Or teach. Mentally sighing, he wandered down to the cave when he got back to find Bruce lifting weights in the exercise area.

“What did you think of Katie?”

“I think she’s clumsy; she had bruises on her neck.”

Bruce seemed to hide a smile in a grimace of effort. “She seemed to like you.”

Sure she did. “Bruce, are you guys like dating?”

“I suppose we are, for now anyway. Is that all right with you?”

“I guess.” Maybe they’d break up. “Are you going to marry her?”

Bruce put the weights down and went to Dick, realizing that his answer was important. “I hadn’t thought about it but I tend to doubt it. Would you be upset if I did?”

Dick shrugged. It would be okay. It wasn’t like this was his house or anything. Bruce could do anything he wanted and if that meant he’d have to find another family then, well, he could deal with it. He was tough, just like his parents had taught him to be.

“Because you know that if I ever do get married it wouldn’t change anything between you and me, right? You’re my ward and that won’t change. Any woman I become serious about has to understand and that’s that.”

“Really?”

“’Promise. Any woman who may come along; you were here first.”

Dick had his doubts, but maybe…

 

* * *
 

Women came and went regularly, pun intended. Roughly every month or two there would be another newbie at the Manor. Sometimes they were in the pool or Jacuzzi. Sometimes they were lounging on one of the couches or in front of the fire with Bruce. Once in awhile they stayed long enough to get lunch or even dinner and on rare occasions, they stayed an entire weekend. One or two tried to impress by cooking dinner or baking cookies. Alfred was not amused but never lost his manners when it happened.

“My mother always told me that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and I don’t think I’ve ever met a man who doesn’t love a good steak, baked potato and salad, so eat up.”

“I do, yes, but Muffy, I don’t mean to complain because this is really quite good, but usually I prefer steak from a cow…”

There were local socialites looking for a meal ticket, actresses whose faces were daily fodder for the tabloids, models with impossibly long legs and all of them refused anything more than a lettuce leaf and plain water with a slice of lemon.

“I wish I could eat like you men, but I swear, if I so much as look at a piece of cake I have to purge and cleanse for a week!”

Dick saw her coat when she came. “Size zero? You wear a size zero? Does that mean like it doesn’t exist?”

The next morning with that one gone Dick overheard Bruce complaining to Alfred that “She had hip bones like knives. I swear, I barely survived.”

The boy stood in the open doorway, “…But, wouldn’t that hurt her instead of you, Bruce?”

Bruce and Alfred both blushed as they tried to keep their faces neutral. “You have a good point there, chum.”

There were a few business associates, though Bruce generally stayed away from them to simplify things over at Wayne Enterprises.

“Honestly, Bruce, if you could just take ten minutes to look at this merger I think you’ll agree that it’s really a terrific opportunity…”

“Roseanne, I’m sure it can wait until this dance is over.”

“But you know how cut-throat the competition for the Atlantean contracts are.”

“It’s a waltz, it will be over in five minutes.”

There was a similarity to most of them. They were all pretty and sometimes flat-out beautiful. They were all young, none of them seemed to ever be older than thirty and that was the high end of the age range, and rare. They all were in love with Bruce, either the man himself or his holdings, though sometimes it seemed the two were interchangeable; Bruce was his money and his money was Bruce.

They all tried to pretend they loved kids, especially when Dick was in the room and a few of them even seemed to not be lying. There were a few he actually enjoyed and wouldn’t mind having around at least for a while, but none of them lasted long and he knew that they’d soon be replaced. Once in a while the women seemed to genuinely be falling in love with Bruce but as soon as that happened they’d be gone and that struck Dick as cruel. In fact, a few of them weren’t bad eggs and couldn’t be blamed if Bruce simply wasn’t going there any time soon. Sometimes he missed a particular woman he’d taken a liking to, but since it wasn’t his decision, he let it go without comment.

He realized that it was probably better not to string them along for long, all things considered. It was simply part of the landscape at the Manor and as he got a little older he understood that the women were just window dressing for the idiot persona Bruce cultivated to hide his Batman identity. After a couple of years, Dick didn’t give them any more thought than he did the gardeners or the pool man. He was always polite to them and even made a point of learning their names but they had little impact on him or his life. And, as he grew himself, Dick grasped that Bruce needed the release they provided and that was fine with the boy, too.

By the time he was twelve, Dick rarely reacted to the unending parade of dates, taking it in stride when he’d see a semi-clad young woman in the hall at midnight or Bruce walking some woman to her car when he was leaving for school.

Sometimes women tried to get to Bruce through Dick. It never worked but it didn’t stop them from trying.

“Dick? Dick Grayson? Oh my goodness; I haven’t seen you since you and Becca were in third grade together. I swear she still talks about you—how are you, honey? Where do you go to school now?”

“Fine, Mrs. (think, think…) Marsdale, thank you for asking. I’m going to Brixton Academy, I’m in seventh grade now.”

“Brixton? I was thinking of sending Becca there next year—if her deadbeat father pays his child support, that is. Are you happy there?” He nodded his answer, her ‘deadbeat father’? Oh god… “Do you think Bruce would mind if I called to pick his brain about the school, get the real low-down?”

“I think he’s in London this week, but I’ll tell him you want to talk to him.”

“Be sure that you do, honey! And I’ll be sure to tell Becca I saw you today, I know she’ll want to catch up with you; give me your number for her, will you, sweetie?”

“I’m really sorry, but I’m not supposed to give it to anybody, ever since that kidnap attempt.”

“Oh, of course, you poor thing. But you be sure to tell Bruce that I want to talk with him. Promise me, now, I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Dick watched her get into her car and wave as she pulled away. God, shoot me.

A few years went by with the Bruce’s dating pattern unbroken. One day in March, as yet another paternity lawsuit was filed against him (destined to be thrown out of court, as they always were) the news hit the regular media and the tabloids with full force. Dick was used to it, ignored it as well as Bruce did and knew it would blow over soon enough, probably just in time for the next salvo to be fired by the next woman hoping for either marriage or a big payday. Dick was called down to the school shrink’s office.

“Thank you for stopping by, Dick. I’ve been a bit concerned and was wondering if the news stories about Mr. Wayne this week have been upsetting you.”

“Me? No, I’m good. Thanks for asking, though.”

“But…Dick, I don’t want to pry into your family life but this must be affecting you. Has Mr. Wayne said anything to you about the matter?”

Oh cripes. “Not really, no, it’s not like this is the first time it’s happened. I know he’s not worried about it. Was there anything else?”

“Well, yes, actually. I know that you’re Mr. Wayne’s ward and I’m concerned about the example he’s setting you.”

“Example? What kind of example?”

“His example to you regarding his treatment of women, to be blunt. I don’t want to cast any aspersions on his character but there have been reports of an almost constant stream of women through his home for years and…”

“And as a young man you’re afraid that I’m being shown an appalling lack of respect towards women, right?” The man nodded. “First of all, Bruce is always considerate and kind to the women he dates” (Dick glossed over the reality). “Whatever he does with them is always behind closed doors and I also have the example of my own parents who had a close and strong marriage to temper whatever else I see.” The counselor’s eyes widened slightly, he had forgotten about that. “Besides, I know that his dates don’t have anything to do with me, so don’t worry about it, okay? I’m good.”

“Will you feel the same way should one of these lawsuits have weight or if he decides to marry?”

“If he gets someone pregnant then that’s his problem, and if he ever gets married then I assume it would only happen because he fell in love with someone. So that would be a good thing, don’t you think?”

“And you never feel displaced or shunted aside when he’s entertaining?”

Dick made a face. “Well, the man has needs, y’know.”

“But Dick, he’s using these women.”

“And they’re using him, they all know what the score is. Seems like a fair exchange to me.”

By the time Dick was looking at colleges Alfred was starting to become aware that the young master had yet to find himself a girlfriend, seeming content with his single status and platonic friends like Miss Donna Troy. He waited until Master Bruce had seen his companion of the evening to the cab and sent her on her way home to bring up his concern. In fact he was also starting to wonder when and if the Master would finally run out of available young ladies to shower with his attentions, unlikely as that might be.

“He’s only sixteen, Alfred, I wouldn’t worry about it. He’s just involved in his activities.”

“I suppose, but I can’t help but wonder if your extreme social life may have put him off the idea.”

Bruce gave him a bemused look. “You think I scared him off dating? I think that’s unlikely. I’d say it’s probably just being a case of him being a slow starter, that’s all. And he is busy, you know.”

“Of course he is but I fear that between his parents being murdered—and thus giving a rather bad taste to the idea of marriage being ‘happily ever after’ and your—ahem—countless adventures with the fair sex, I’m afraid that the lad may well be avoiding the entire issue.”

“Do you want me to have a talk with him?”

“And what, pray tell, would you say to him? ‘Do as you say, not as you do’? He’s fully aware of your reasons for using the women who pass through here as disposable entertainment. I’m certain that he’s already made some value judgments and is adjusting his own behavior accordingly.”

“I’ll speak to him as soon as he gets back from that case the Titans are working on in a few days.”

But, of course, that conversation never quite happened.

 

* * *
 

Last night had been hard and not in a good way. Even the next morning after a solid ten hours of sleep and a couple of Advil’s Dick was sore. “I’m going to see if the Jacuzzi helps, Alfred.”

“I’ll hold your breakfast until you’ve dried off then, shall I?”

“This is enough, thanks.” Taking a fresh corn muffin and a cup of coffee with him, he headed over to the Conservatory to soak under the indoor palm trees.

Maybe twenty minutes later, relaxed and laying back in the warm, swirling water, muffin eaten and coffee drunk, he was close to dozing when he felt someone else enter the large tub, and spoke to Bruce, eyes closed. “Last night was long, wasn’t it?”

“I guess that’s one word for it.”

Startled, Dick opened his eyes to find this week's entertainment (he couldn’t remember her name) standing about two feet away in the hot water, removing her bikini top, the bottom already sitting on the edge. She sat next to him, pressing as close as was humanly possible without actually merging into him—likely her short-term hope. Her obviously enhanced breasts were pressed, rubbing against his arm; her leg casually draped over his thighs and her hand was caressing his chest and stomach, toying with the waistband of his trunks.

It wasn’t exactly subtle.

“I think you’ve mistaken me for Bruce.”

“No, I haven’t. He’s terrific, don’t get me wrong but he’s getting a little—well, you know. He’s been playing this game a little too long, if you know what I mean. I just thought that you might like to have someone show you the ropes—or am I too late for that?” She gave him what was probably supposed to be a come-hither smile. In fact, it just looked predatory.

“Actually, you’re a little too early. If you’ll excuse me?” He stood up, headache back and hoping against hope that he could get away without comment on his normal, teenaged reaction to the woman. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it loosely around his waist and stepped out of the hot water just as Bruce came through the door, looking like he was ready to kill. Dick paused as they passed one another, gesturing with his head at the woman, “Looking for something?”

An hour later Bruce found Dick down in the cave going through his high bar routine. “Sorry about that. She won’t be back.”

Dick dismounted, landing a mere triple, proof of how annoyed he was by the encounter. “Jesus, Bruce, how long do you think you can keep playing the out of date playboy role? Seriously have you seen Hugh Hefner lately? Pathetic. If you’re not careful that will be you in a few years.”

Bruce was taken aback by the comment. A couple of people had said similar things and he was starting to believe that maybe he should rethink his public persona but right now he needed to address the matter at hand. “Did Susie do anything…out of line with you?”

Dick gave him a look. “’Y’think?” Shaking his head in disgust he headed for the shower.

That evening at dinner, Dick was surprised to see Bruce at the table. It was Saturday night and he was sure that the man would be at that Opera Gala he’d mentioned a few days ago. “No date tonight?”

“I cancelled.”

“Why?” Batman and Robin were needed somewhere?

“I decided to stay in for a change.”

Say wha? “Excuse me?”

“What you said today, you’re right. And your school called, set up a meeting a couple of days ago which I went to. That counselor of yours read me the riot act, threatened to call Child Protective Services on me if I didn’t ‘straighten up and fly right’—his words.”

Dick was stopped; this was nuts. “What about your ‘idiot Bruce Wayne’ charade? Aren’t you afraid that if you change your wicked ways you’ll have some serious explaining to do? And since when did you care what anyone said about you?”

“Oh no, I’m still idiot Bruce Wayne but, truth be told, I’m getting tired of the game myself.”

“You’re taking the veil?” Dick just stared. “…I’m speechless...” It wasn’t often that Bruce completely blind-sided him but, being Dick, he recovered quickly. “There has to be more to this than a threat from a guidance counselor. You want to tell me what it is?”

“Nothing sinister. If you want to know the truth, I’ve met someone.”

“A woman?”

“Of course a woman and don’t be a smart ass. Talia Ra’s Al Ghul, intelligent, beautiful, intriguing. I think that she may be…”

“You’re kidding. And she’s different from any of the dozens of women who have been through here because why?”

“Because—she’s different.”

“Ra’s Al Ghul? His daughter? You’ve lost your mind.” Dick saw the look on Bruce’s face. “I don’t frigging believe this; you’re in love with her, after everything they’ve done—after everything she’s done and you’re in love? That’s insane.”

“Would you rather have more bimbos through here every few weeks?”

“You know? I think I would.”

“Dick, be reasonable…”

“Reasonable? Her father has done everything in his power to kill both of us, he’s tortured both of us, he’s come damn close to…and she’s been right beside him every step of the way—she must be pretty damn special for you to overlook those little tidbits.”

“I know it sounds ridiculous but I’ve…”

“You’re not going to say you’ve never felt like this before, are you?” Dick tossed his napkin on the table, his food untouched. “Fine, do whatever you want. Run away with her, have an affair, marry her, have a dozen kids—knock yourself out.”

“Dick, sit down so we can discuss this. Dick…”

Alfred entered with a tray of food, clearly having heard everything. “Gentlemen, please, no raised voices, they accomplish nothing. Richard, sit down. Bruce, think about what you’re saying; of course Master Dick is upset, as am I. This is completely out of character and reeks of extreme danger for everyone involved.”

“Forget it, Alf, you know what he’s like, if his mind is made up nothing will change it and it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m leaving for school in a few months and will be out of here, he’ll do what he wants.” He paused in the doorway, “My first thought was that this was a really bad joke, then I thought maybe you’d been drugged or there was some kind of mind control but I think you’re serious.”

“I am and…”

“Don’t bother. You know how I feel, you’re making the worst mistake you’ve ever made. She’s using you, playing you and you’re going to end up paying. One way or another, you will.” He shook his head, his anger spent. “Look, I’m going over to the Tower for a few days. Do what you want.”

7/9/09
 

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