I had forgotten the blue crayon at home. That made me so mad. How was I supposed to draw a picture of Superman of I didn't have a blue crayon? For a nine year old, this is a big problem. I would have to settle with using the purple crayon, which I resented, but dealt with.

After coloring Superman's body, the picture was done. I hopped out of the Batmobile, darted around several policemen and yellow tape, and raced up to Batman. "Batman, Batman", I said, tugging on his cape. Batman had his really scary look on, facing Mr. Freeze, who was hanging from a light pole. Mr. Freeze was trembling and looking frightened, like most people did when Batman faced them like that. He wheeled around, that scary look still on his face, until he realized it was me trying to contact him. Immediately, his face softened when he saw me.

"We'll be leaving in just a few minutes Robin, I know I promised to get ice cream on the way back but don't worry we'll find a place that's still open." Mr. Freeze started to snicker and Batman turned on him angrily.

"You think that's funny", he roared at the icy villain, "when your body parts are strewn across the city, it'll be real funny." Mr. Freeze gave a yelp and cowered. Jim Gordon was trying his best not to snicker as well. There seemed to be nothing he thought was funnier then Batman softening up around me and still trying to be scary to the criminals.

"It's not that", I said insistently. Batman was still glaring menacingly at Mr. Freeze, but turned to me when I spoke again.

"What is it?" he asked gently. He was always going out of his way to be gentle with me on patrol these days because of an incident that had happened when he had been interrogating the Mad Hatter.

I had come up to him to ask for a bat snack out of the car and he had accidentally forgotten to turn off his angry voice when he faced me. Of course this had resulted in him roaring at the top of his lungs "THEY'RE IN THE FRONT POCKET UNDER MY SEAT!"

He had me sobbing pathetically in a corner for twenty minutes after that while he hovered around whimpering, I'm sorry Robin, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Eventually, he had me calmed down enough so that we could go back to the car.

He showered me with sugary foods when we got home and cuddled me in his chair while begging my forgiveness as if the world were ending. I had long since forgiven him, but I liked the attention and the car he bought me the next day. These days, however, he was more careful.

"I drew you a picture", I said happily.

Batman's face broke into a playful grin and he said, "Ohh thank you." He knelt down. "Lets see what we've got here. Alright, here's me and Wonder Woman and Green Arrow and I suppose that would be the Atom on his shoulder right?"

"Right", I said, nodding my head.

"And this must be Superman, why's he purple?"

"I forgot the blue crayon back at the cave," I said glumly.

"Ohh, well, that's ok, he looks better in purple anyway. Hmm, what's the green thing in the corner? I'd say it was Superman, but he's over here."

"That's Martian Man Hunter silly", I said, admonishing him.

"Ohh, of course, right."

"I really want to meet them", I said, my eyes digging into him, "You know, not that I'm asking to or anything, just…just making the comment."

"Well", said Batman, "maybe someday. Anyway, I need to finish interrogating the prisoner son, why don't you go wait in the car?"

"Can I go ride in the police car back to the police station", I asked.

"Sure", said Batman, "if Jim doesn't mind."

"Sure", said Gordon, and he swung me up onto his shoulder. I shrieked with delight and clung on for my bouncy ride.

"Can I wear the handcuffs and sit in the back seat where the bad guys sit?"

"Sure", said Gordon, and he put the handcuffs on me. I had to work to keep them on though, because my wrists were so little. He loaded me into the back and said in a mock stern voice, "Mr. Robin, you're going to jail for your crimes against the state."

"But what did I do?" I wailed, pretending to be sad.

"You were too cute", Gordon replied, "and you made Batman look less scary. The punishment is being forced to sit in the rec room with a bunch of old policemen and eat donuts."

"But", I said, "you'll lock me in a cell first, right?"

"Sure buddy", Gordon said, "what ever his majesty wishes." I eventually got tired of the handcuffs and lay them on the seat, looking out the window at all the lights as we flew by. "So", Gordon said, "You still haven't convinced him to let you go see the league?"

"No", I muttered unhappily, "still no."

"I thought your picture was pretty convincing", Gordon said, "I would have cracked under that kind of pressure."

"I know", I said, "but Batman's so thick, he just can't take a hint." I pressed my fist to my cheek, leaning on my elbow as I looked out the window.

I had been asking for weeks if I could go meet the league, but Batman had said no every time. At one point, he had even banned me from asking ever again. I got around that though, because he couldn't get angry at me for drawing pictures of the league to see if he would take the bait.

He was good though and he evaded my child psychological warfare. I knew he would crack eventually though. I was still relatively early in the night, but I was ready to go home. I had more pictures to draw.


I curled up in the corner of my bed, sobbing quietly. Bruce opened the door slightly. "Alright Dickie", he said blissfully, "time for bed." Then, he noticed me crying. He immediately flew over, like I knew he would. "What is it Dickie?" he said urgently, running his hands over me, "are you hurt?"

"I'm gona die", I sobbed.

"What!" Bruce asked, "Why? Did someone threaten you? Don't worry, I'll beat him up, it'll all be ok."

"I'm gona get old like you and then I'm gona die", I continued through cries of anguish. He chose to ignore the part about him being old, which I was not surprised about considering the fact that he seemed a little perplexed as to the reason I was crying.

"Well Dick, everyone dies, that's no reason to cry."

"But", I whimpered, "I'm going to die without being able to do the one thing I always wanted to do in life."

"What", Bruce asked, "look, whatever it is that has you this upset, I'll buy it for you."

"I wanna meet the Justice League', I bawled, and started weeping loudly again.

"Ohh", said Bruce, suddenly looking stern, "that's what this is about?" I could see that I was losing him, so I intensified my sobs.

"It's all I ever wanted out of life," I said though tears, "to meet the people you work with. You work with them, so they have to be amazing, just like you." After that, I started crying even harder. I knew I was laying it on thick, but I could see him lapping it up. Bruce was visibly alarmed at the level of agony I was transmitting and collected me into his arms.

"Shh, shh Dickie, it's ok, just stop crying." I continued to bawl loudly and he looked as if he was getting distraught. After a few more failed attempts to calm me, he finally cracked. "Look, if you stop crying, I'll take you to see them on Saturday, ok?"

"Really", I asked, drawing away from him with eyes filled with hope.

"Sure", Bruce said, "we'll go up to the Watchtower together and meet everyone there."

"Do you think they'll like me?" I asked softly.

"Of course", Bruce said, "everyone likes you."

"Gordon says I ruin your image", I whimpered, "are you mad about that, is that why you wouldn't take me to see them? Are you embarrassed by me?"

"No, no", he said, "of course not (I could tell he was lying through his teeth, but I made no comment on this. Truthfully, I could care less if I ruined his image. It wasn't a very nice image anyway. Anyway, if I guilt tripped, I could insure he didn't try to get out of the deal I had pretty much coerced him into), I'll introduce you to everyone there."

"Thank you", I said ecstatically, "I love you sooooo much." I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly and buried my head in his shoulder, mostly so he wouldn't spot my triumphant grin through my crocodile tears.