Dick Grayson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
things_change) wrote2010-02-28 08:25 pm
things_change) wrote2010-02-28 08:25 pm
Entry tags:
Helping Hand
[Co-written with notafraidofyou]
Tim scowled at his textbook, doodling in the margin of the page he was supposed to be taking notes on. The words were blurring together, and--to be honest--his stick figures were a lot more interesting than his Civics text at the moment.
Dick let himself into Tim's room and leaned over his shoulder to see what he was working on. He balanced an apple on the top of Tim's head and hummed appreciatively. "Nice. Is that Catwoman?"
"Was it the tail that gave it away?" He tapped his eraser against the stick figure. "Or the ears? And what did you put on my head?"
"The ears, the tail and stick cat. I think that's a cat, anyway." He shook his head, propping his elbows up on Tim's shoulders. "You mean Bruce hasn't played the 'identify-what-fruit-is-on-your-head' game with you? Man, he's slacking."
"It's a cat. See?" He pointed with his eraser. "Isis has a tail, too. And that doesn't sound much at all like a game Bruce would play."
"Last I checked, dogs have tails too. And horses. I knew it wasn't a pig or pug because it was curly, though." Dick shrugged. "Making you identify a mystery object without looking isn't a Bruce game? I wonder if he's been replaced by a pod person recently."
He made a couple of spiky ears for the stick-cat. "He doesn't usually balance them on my head."
Dick picked up the apple and tapped Tim's head with it a few times. "That's just because he's not as creative as I am. So what class is this for? Stick Figures 101?"
"I wish," he grumbled. "I might not be failing that."
"Guess the fruit!" Dick demanded, rapping the apple against the center of Tim's forehead. "Failing? I don't believe it."
Tim batted the apple away. "It's an apple--or a pear. It's got the spiky bottom thing in the middle of a rounded--oh, God, I'm turning into you."
Dick tossed the apple into the air, assuming Tim would catch it. He grinned and hopped to sit on the edge of the desk. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
Tim caught it out of the air. "Apple. Of course. Teacher's pet."
"Don't hate me because I'm brilliant. I tried for cookies, but Alfred caught me."
He tossed the apple from hand to hand, and spun it on the tip of a finger like a ball. "That's okay. I live here. I can get cookies anytime I want."
Dick made a strangled noise and slapped a hand over his heart, leaning back as if wounded. "That hurts, Tim. You know how sensitive I am about Alfred's cooking."
He reached out to pat Dick on the arm. "It's so hard being you."
Dick gave a long-suffering sigh. "You have no idea. So what's got you stuck up here doodling stick cats all night?"
He made a face and gestured to the book. "Civics."
Dick glanced over him and winced in sympathy. "Yuck. Having problems?"
"I'm failing."
"Failing?" Dick let out a low whistle. "Does Bruce know yet?"
"Not yet--and he doesn't have to if I pass my stupid test on Friday."
"How do you think you'll do?"
He glanced at the stick figures, then back at Dick.
Dick laughed and ruffled his hair. "Want some help?"
"Do I," he muttered. He looked back at Dick. "You don't mind?"
Dick rolled his eyes and shoved at Tim's shoulder. "Of course not. Besides, if you fail, you'll be grounded and Bruce won't have anything to distract him from criticizing me."
"And you won't have anyone to play your stupid fruit game with."
"You love my fruit game. You're just jealous you didn't come up with it."
"Riiiiiight." He tossed the apple at him. "So what does a District Attorney do? Yo u know--the ones that aren't Puke Face."
Dick caught the apple and took a bite. "Well," he said, chewing thoughtfully. "I can tell you what DAs are supposed to do. The ones in Gotham and Bludhaven kind of follow their own rules, but I don't think that will help on the test."
"Great." He made a face. "What's the point of learning if they don't do what they're supposed to anyway?"
"So you know what they're doing wrong," Dick replied. "And so we can do our job and maybe clear out some of that corruption so someone who will do the job right can get in there."
He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Someone like Harvey Dent?"
Dick shugged. "Okay, that didn't work out so well. But you know what I mean."
"Yeah, yeah." He waved a hand dismissively. "So basically--we're waiting for a miracle."
Dick gave his shoulder a light shove. "Maybe. But if you know what they're supposed to know, then you know what's being done wrong."
He rolled his eyes. "It's not like Robin can exactly beat up a Dictrict Attorney for doing it wrong."
"No, but he can make it really, really difficult for people to bribe him," Dick said with a sharp grin.
Tim gave him a thoughtful look. "...Yeah, I guess he could."
"I know he could. So." Dick reached over and grabbed the textbook, pulling it into his lap and flipping through it. "Ready to ace this test of yours under my brilliant tutelage?"
"You'll have to be brilliant to make me ace this test." He shrugged, giving Dick a wry smile. "Let's do this."
"Kiddo, if you don't get at least a B on this thing with my help, I'll let you tell Bruce about the time we borrowed The Car."
"Deal," Tim said with a nod and raised his hand for a fistbump. "That way we'll both be grounded."
"Not gonna happen on my watch, Little Brother."
Dick Grayson/Nightwing and Tim Drake/Robin II
DC Animated Universe
957 words
Dick Grayson and Tim Drake are the property of DC comics and Warner Brothers Entertainment. No infringement intended.
notafraidofyou]Tim scowled at his textbook, doodling in the margin of the page he was supposed to be taking notes on. The words were blurring together, and--to be honest--his stick figures were a lot more interesting than his Civics text at the moment.
Dick let himself into Tim's room and leaned over his shoulder to see what he was working on. He balanced an apple on the top of Tim's head and hummed appreciatively. "Nice. Is that Catwoman?"
"Was it the tail that gave it away?" He tapped his eraser against the stick figure. "Or the ears? And what did you put on my head?"
"The ears, the tail and stick cat. I think that's a cat, anyway." He shook his head, propping his elbows up on Tim's shoulders. "You mean Bruce hasn't played the 'identify-what-fruit-is-on-your-head' game with you? Man, he's slacking."
"It's a cat. See?" He pointed with his eraser. "Isis has a tail, too. And that doesn't sound much at all like a game Bruce would play."
"Last I checked, dogs have tails too. And horses. I knew it wasn't a pig or pug because it was curly, though." Dick shrugged. "Making you identify a mystery object without looking isn't a Bruce game? I wonder if he's been replaced by a pod person recently."
He made a couple of spiky ears for the stick-cat. "He doesn't usually balance them on my head."
Dick picked up the apple and tapped Tim's head with it a few times. "That's just because he's not as creative as I am. So what class is this for? Stick Figures 101?"
"I wish," he grumbled. "I might not be failing that."
"Guess the fruit!" Dick demanded, rapping the apple against the center of Tim's forehead. "Failing? I don't believe it."
Tim batted the apple away. "It's an apple--or a pear. It's got the spiky bottom thing in the middle of a rounded--oh, God, I'm turning into you."
Dick tossed the apple into the air, assuming Tim would catch it. He grinned and hopped to sit on the edge of the desk. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
Tim caught it out of the air. "Apple. Of course. Teacher's pet."
"Don't hate me because I'm brilliant. I tried for cookies, but Alfred caught me."
He tossed the apple from hand to hand, and spun it on the tip of a finger like a ball. "That's okay. I live here. I can get cookies anytime I want."
Dick made a strangled noise and slapped a hand over his heart, leaning back as if wounded. "That hurts, Tim. You know how sensitive I am about Alfred's cooking."
He reached out to pat Dick on the arm. "It's so hard being you."
Dick gave a long-suffering sigh. "You have no idea. So what's got you stuck up here doodling stick cats all night?"
He made a face and gestured to the book. "Civics."
Dick glanced over him and winced in sympathy. "Yuck. Having problems?"
"I'm failing."
"Failing?" Dick let out a low whistle. "Does Bruce know yet?"
"Not yet--and he doesn't have to if I pass my stupid test on Friday."
"How do you think you'll do?"
He glanced at the stick figures, then back at Dick.
Dick laughed and ruffled his hair. "Want some help?"
"Do I," he muttered. He looked back at Dick. "You don't mind?"
Dick rolled his eyes and shoved at Tim's shoulder. "Of course not. Besides, if you fail, you'll be grounded and Bruce won't have anything to distract him from criticizing me."
"And you won't have anyone to play your stupid fruit game with."
"You love my fruit game. You're just jealous you didn't come up with it."
"Riiiiiight." He tossed the apple at him. "So what does a District Attorney do? Yo u know--the ones that aren't Puke Face."
Dick caught the apple and took a bite. "Well," he said, chewing thoughtfully. "I can tell you what DAs are supposed to do. The ones in Gotham and Bludhaven kind of follow their own rules, but I don't think that will help on the test."
"Great." He made a face. "What's the point of learning if they don't do what they're supposed to anyway?"
"So you know what they're doing wrong," Dick replied. "And so we can do our job and maybe clear out some of that corruption so someone who will do the job right can get in there."
He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Someone like Harvey Dent?"
Dick shugged. "Okay, that didn't work out so well. But you know what I mean."
"Yeah, yeah." He waved a hand dismissively. "So basically--we're waiting for a miracle."
Dick gave his shoulder a light shove. "Maybe. But if you know what they're supposed to know, then you know what's being done wrong."
He rolled his eyes. "It's not like Robin can exactly beat up a Dictrict Attorney for doing it wrong."
"No, but he can make it really, really difficult for people to bribe him," Dick said with a sharp grin.
Tim gave him a thoughtful look. "...Yeah, I guess he could."
"I know he could. So." Dick reached over and grabbed the textbook, pulling it into his lap and flipping through it. "Ready to ace this test of yours under my brilliant tutelage?"
"You'll have to be brilliant to make me ace this test." He shrugged, giving Dick a wry smile. "Let's do this."
"Kiddo, if you don't get at least a B on this thing with my help, I'll let you tell Bruce about the time we borrowed The Car."
"Deal," Tim said with a nod and raised his hand for a fistbump. "That way we'll both be grounded."
"Not gonna happen on my watch, Little Brother."
Dick Grayson/Nightwing and Tim Drake/Robin II
DC Animated Universe
957 words
Dick Grayson and Tim Drake are the property of DC comics and Warner Brothers Entertainment. No infringement intended.