Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or anything really. I'd like to own insanity, but obviously you can't unless you're the Joker…hmmm…maybe I should kidnap him. Oh well, I'll do that later. *writes reminder on sticky note* Anyway, It's all rainy and sad so I need something to do.

Why am I writing a Batman fic? One, because TheAlchamist'sDaughter asked readers for a Damian/Dick story. This is a thank you for their updates. I really do appreciate it. The second reason really makes no since unless you know me. I was bored and found this video on YouTube of Batman punching out an old lady (That really was from an episode apparently XD)

*Batman walks in*

Old lady: Oh…so you want some-*punch*

For Batman's sake, I'm going to assume her next word would have been "cookies". If the next word wasn't going to be cookies then DON'T tell me. Just let me live on in blissful ignorance.

Enjoy the story!

Damian Glared at Dick, who was sporting a cheerful expression as he dragged Damien through the door. He was either ignoring the death rays or had been the target of Batglares so often he had developed immunity.

Damian narrowed his eyes as he glanced around the room. He could not believe Dick had brought him here.

"Why are we here?" he hissed, "Pennyworth could make us lunch, that's his job!"

Sure, he knew Dick had the cooking skills of a paperclip, but McDonalds?

Dick grinned down at him, ruffling his hair.

"British cuisine is nice, but you've missed some very important childhood experiences. I bet the League of Assassins never bought you a happy meal!"

Damian studied his face for a minute, tracing from his shining eyes to his upturned lips.

"Grayson, you've said a lot of stupid things, but this has got to be the most idiotic."

Dick ignored him, walking up to the cash register. The wiry girl recited the "Welcome to McDonalds" line without much enthusiasm, until she did a double take of the handsome man in front of her.

"What can I get for you?" she asked, thinking about just what she wanted to give him…

Damian snorted, causing her to look in his direction. A kid? She glared at him as if he was the seed of all evil.

Of course. She thought moodily. All the hot guys are either taken or gay.

Studying the two, she shook her head. No, she didn't want to know which category he fell under.

"A number one and a happy meal please," Dick flashed her a heart stopping smile and pulled out his wallet.

"$9.75 please."

He handed her the cash, and received a paper bag and cups within a few minutes.

"You mean we have to fix the drink ourselves?"

"Yes," Dick answered patiently for the sixth time.

"Then what are we paying them for? We paid them to make us sandwiches. If I wanted to make my own food, I wouldn't have paid them to do it!"

"First off, I paid. Second, they're hamburgers, not sandwiches."

"Two slices of bread with something between them. It's a sandwich."

Dick shook his head, thrusting a cup at Damian, "Never mind, just pick out something to drink."

Damian looked at the soda, then at his cup, them back at the soda fountain. What the heck?

Dick chuckled slightly, filling his own cup with root beer as a demonstration. Damian copied his movement, irritated at being outsmarted by a coke dispensing machine.

They sat down at a booth, opening their lunches, Damian a bit reluctantly. He grimaced as Dick took a bite out of his burger. Noticing his look of disgust, Dick spoke around the food in his mouth, "If you eat good, I'll buy you a McFlurry."

Damian's grimace deepened, "I don't even want to know what that is."

"Shut up and eat your happy meal."

Damian gave him a defiant look, but never the less opened up the box. Inside he found something wrapped in plastic.

"What is that?"

"The point of the happy meal" Seeing Damian's confusion he added, "It's a toy."

Damian tore open the plastic, wondering what was so special about a toy when…he grinned evilly.

"Hey Grayson, you're right. I do like happy meals."

When Dick glanced up to see what toy Damian received, he choked on his hambuger. The "innocent" happy meal toy was a water gun. A bent over figurine of Nightwing where the water spouts out of his mouth and the trigger on his crotch.

"In fact, I like it soooo much, I think I'll taking it on patrol and show the bad guys," Damian smirked.

I'm not kidding, such a water gun does exist only it's batman. Seriously, look it up on google images, it is so messed up! I don't know if I'm going to leave it as a one shot or not. I'll decide later I guess, depending on how satisfied I am with the ending. Anyway, tell me if you love it hate it, want cookies…wait…no, let's not start the cookie thing again. Really, let's just not go there. XD PEACE!