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Sweet Sixteen

- or - Happy Birthday Tim

BR>

Chapter Seven - Robin



by Darklady

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters. Tim is too young anyway. Is there a futures market for fictives? I'd consider an option!

Slash/Het ?: No. Not a chance. Hornet universe, but Tim is SIXTEEN! And you have a dirty mind.

Rated: PG

Note: Nothing particular here - I don't think. You already know that this Robin is Tim Drake - right?



This was absolutely the ultimate day of my life! Totally! I only wish...... Forget it! This is beyond perfect. I have the kewlest friends in the entire universe. Maybe several universes. I don't know how Kon rigged this. Maybe his agent or someone helped him. I didn't even know the earth had a place this bittchen. I mean. I've been to Planet Krypton a few times, but this is so much... it's beyond beyond.

And the girls. Well, women. Ghod, are they gorgeous here! Really, really gorgeous, and....well. I've seen more, but not like in person. I'm suddenly grateful for all that training Bruce insists on. Actually drooling in public would be so dweeb. But I have filed a few prime memories for later.

The show is over, and I'm chowing down on my fave pizza, when I catch a shadow out of the corner of my eye.

I excuse myself to go to the restroom.

It's Batman, all right. I can't hear him, but he's in there with Mr. Gardner. Christ, if the Bat's pissed then.........I shake myself. Face it like a man.

"Batman." I keep my voice level.

"Robin." Nothing there. There never is. Not his voice, not his face, and his eyes are shielded by the angle.

"Happy Birthday, Bro."

I spin. "Nightwing!" How the hell can he always sneak up on me! Bummer! And he's leaning back, not even in stealth mode. I am so dead.

"Kick-ass party, kid!"

At least he's smiling. Of course, that could be because he got the drop on me, but....."You like it?" I ask.

"What's not to like?" He raises a plate in a mock toast. "Great pizza you got here, Gardner."

Mr. Gardner gives him this weird look. "Thanks."

"Nah, thank you." Nightwing drops the plate an the desk, where it clatters. " My little bro deserves a good time. Right?" Then he gives Gardner the really weird look right back. This is so....

"Ah. Sure. Right." Mr. Gardner's talking to Nightwing, but he's watching the Bat. I'm trying to watch everyone, which is why Dick catches me off guard a little when he slaps my shoulder.

"Hey kid? You about ready to cut the cake?"

"Sure. Totally...." Like anything to move from here. "Batman?

"You go on." That's the 'it's OK' voice. " I will join you.... after I properly thank Mr. Gardner."

So Nightwing and I go back to the party. Argent gives him this funny look, but everyone else is way ripped to see him. Especially Mary Marvel, who I think has a crush or something. As if! The dancers roll out this bitchen cake. About ten layers, with the 'R' logo on it. Sixteen of those really long candles that last so you can look at it. I blow them out, which is sort of dumb but it's what you do. Everyone sings happy birthday, which is also dumb but ditto. Got to admit the band makes it sound almost rockin' . I cut the cake first, then one of the waitresses takes over handing it out. Every ones back to dancing and eating when - the Bat comes in.

Sudden death. I mean, you hear about silence sweeping the room, but here is was real. Like a physical wall of un-fun.

"Robin." No clue in the voice. There never is.

"Batman" I answer. I risk a glance at Nightwing, but he's not helping.

"There is a matter of interest on the street level."

Which maybe could mean anything, but it sure as hell means I'm going there. Now. Kon and the others follow. Not that they can really help, but I'm still glad to have them. The elevator ride is silent. Thankfully, also short. I check the lobby, then step out. Nothing there. The main doors are open, so I go that way. Near then, parked at the curb, is a large shape covered with.........wrapping paper? And a bow???? A quick bomb check before I pick up one edge, The paper slips off and it's........... OH MY GHOD!!..... It's!

My jaw is down, and I can see my face looking stupid in the reflection off the blood red paint job, and I don't even care. Something clicks, and the doors swing open. Green leather, green glass, Robin logo. I think I'm in love.

A growl at my left ear. "Happy Birthday, Robin."

This is absolutely the kewlest day of my life!

The End

KKR 2003







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