Gifts

Christmas was coming. The snow had been falling for the past week, piling up on the estate grounds. A twelve year old Dick Grayson had already built three snowmen, the last just outside Bruce's office window.

"Dick!"

Dick looked up from his computer game as Bruce strode into the room. Oh, he knew what this was about. He hid his grin, although his eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Yeah, Bruce?" he asked casually.

"Come with me, please," Bruce said just as casually, his hand falling onto the boy's shoulder, all but pushing him down the hall.

Outside the large pane glass window of Bruce's home office stood a tall snowman, draped in a cape and cowl, staring into the office.

Dick admired the effect, then looked at Bruce. He was less impressed.

"I know that we've talked about security before," Bruce said.

"Yes," Dick replied, a choirboy's expression on his face, his lucid blue eyes emanating innocence. "That's why the manor is fenced with the best security available."

"How do you explain that?" Bruce asked, pointing at the six foot bat-snowman.

"It's pretty good, isn't it?" Dick said. "Last night there was no moon. I started work at eleven p.m. and finished by five while you were on patrol. I disabled the floodlights and I think I kept it pretty quiet since you only just noticed it at," he checked his watch. "at seven a.m." Dick folded his arms. "You did give me an assignment to challenge security. Merry Christmas, Bruce."

Bruce shook his head, then allowed a chuckle out. "Okay, you win. It is pretty good. But put the cowl back, would you?"

"Sure," Dick said.

"And Dick," Bruce said as the boy turned towards the door. "Good job. Merry Christmas."