"Hi guys." Dick Grayson settled down at the table already seating Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent. All three were on a very public doc resturant, just out of range of any other people. Bruce reserved it ages ago for him and any other costumed heroes to talk in privacy.
He didn't expect Dick to show up there though. Last he knew the kid was in Jump taking on his own rogue gallery with his friends the Teen Titans. Last he knew, he didn't want anything to do with Bruce. And yet here he was, interrupting a brunch between the two adults that influenced his upbringing most besides Alfred. Was this the old butler's idea of how to make them reconcile? By bringing Clark in?
"Dick!" Clark nearly jumped out of his seat to give the kid a hug. The teenager received it gladly, some tension leaving his body. "It's great to see you! I didn't know you were in town. Bruce, why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't know either." The world's greatest detective tried to not look both overjoyed and scared to see his old partner. The two's eyes locked onto each other for a moment before both looked away awkwardly. Course their awkward as so discrete the alien didn't pick it up. "Did Alfred tell you to—"
"Actually I wanted to talk to the both of you about something." Dick rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to figure out how to start his tale. "You see..."
"Would you like anything to drink young sir?" Their waitress smiled as she offered the boy a menu, which he declined.
"Just water I think. I won't be here long."
"He'll have blueberry pancakes with whipped topping, scrambled eggs with cheese and crispy bacon. And bring a pitcher of orange juice." Dick scowled quickly at his former mentor as he ordered him a decent sized breakfast. Bruce gave him a chiding look. "You haven't eaten yet and you look like you could use it. Unless you want to change it."
"Bruce..." Clark chided, frustrated with them both, but it wasn't really necessary. Dick gave the lady a relenting nod. His guardian had picked what he would have. The waitress smiled kindly then walked away.
"You ordered it," Dick stated flatly, "you pay for it."
"Fair enough. So what is it you wanted to talk about?" Bruce sprinkled salt over his grapefruit, perfectly composed on the outside. Inside he was nearly jumping for joy. Dick wanted to talk to him (and Clark). He wanted advice. That hadn't happened in some time.
"Um... How do I start..." The leader of the Titans was now tongue tied.
"Well you could—" Clark started.
"Start from the begin—" Bruce said at the same time.
"How do you get rid of a fifth dimensional fanboy?"
Both men froze at the question.
Fifth...
Dimension...
Fanboy...
Almost in unison the two greatest superheroes the world had ever known gripped their heads in pain, cringing and groaning at the mentioning of such beings. Dick had a similarly pained expression on his face, sympathizing with them greatly. Clark gave him an almost sorry pleading look. "You have one too?"
"Yeah..." The dread filled exasperation in his voice nearly matched theirs. "I don't think he's near as bad as your guys' but he's still a royal pain."
"How'd it happen?" Bruce's usually strong demeanor almost faded away to exhaustion as he asked. He was hoping Batmite would be the only one to terrorize him and his family.
"Well..." Dick rubbed his arm nervously, not look at anyone as he tried to find the right words. "I kinda broke my arm... and motorcycle... while trying to take on Jonny Rancid."
