The wedding of his 'brother' and his old teammate. The wedding of the year. The wedding Dick Grayson has no desire to go to. The wedding he'd serve as the best man, and watch the woman he was in love with marry his best friend.

Bright blue eyes flashed open, looking into a dark abyss. Where the /hell/ am I? The eyes' owner thought groggily. It didn't take him long to realize he was in his bed, the silk sheets and down feathered pillows were a dead giveaway. Blinking and sitting up, the figure eye's fully adjusted to the darkness.

Glancing to his right, he noticed black curls sprawled across his arm spilling onto the bed. Bemused, he found the source of the curls and cursed. Was I even talking to Helena last night? I thought I was talking to-ah I don't even remember her name. Frowning at the lack of the ability to remember, the twenty something year old crept out of the king bed. "I should probably take my leave…" he muttered quietly, before feeling like a fool upon realizing this was his hotel suite.

Shrugging, he scrawled a note in fine cursive; "Hey, last night was great," he guessed, "had to go to a meeting though. Sorry to leave you but breakfast is on the table! Don't wait up-" he scratched out that part, "I'll call you." Smirking, he took a shower and fixed the girl breakfast before making a clean getaway.

This morning was a daily routine.

Twenty two year old Dick Grayson had a skip in his step as he walked down the streets of Gotham. Remarkably, it was actually sunny, a rare occurrence he would have witnessed during his childhood. Feeling nostalgic, he sighed thoughtfully, completely perplexed as to why he ever left. This was truly where he grew up, where he learned to be the fighter he was today, where he had been taken under the wing of Batman, more affectionately known as Bruce Wayne, as Robin. Reason Number 3 as to why I left. He thought, shaking his head.

Upon perhaps the thousandth disagreement with Batman, Dick left his role as Robin, and started a new career in Jump City, and then in Bludhaven as Nightwing. Recently though, he left due to personal reasons, and returned to reside in good ol' Gotham.

"Dick? Dick Grayson? Is that you?" a crisp voice rang.

The ebony haired boy's ears perked up, his cerulean eyes flashed to a woman who looked no older than he, with auburn hair and green eyes. She was waving drastically. "I thought that was you I saw last night!"

"Sorry?" he bit his lip-hoping she wasn't an old conquest-better yet, he glanced at her beauty-he hoped she might be.

"It's me, Barbara Gordon!" the woman cried rushing over to him.

"Babs, woah I didn't even recognize you!" he breathed.

"I could say the same about you, you sure have grown up." She said seductively.

Dick breathed a laugh. "As are you, babe." He grabbed her hand gently, his eyes twinkling.

"Traveling sure has been good to you!" she gushed, wondering why she never pounced on him when she had the chance. "I think the last time I saw you was prom. Though you're not sixteen anymore."

Prom. Reason number seven.

Wincing, he scratched his head sheepishly. "Yeah, I just, I don't know-had to get out of here."

"Well, let me know if you want to get re-acquainted with the city. Glad you're back." She said sweetly, before giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

Dick sighed, he was used to girls throwing themselves at him, but never expected Barbara Gordon to be as bold. He then continued on his way.

"Master Richard!" Alfred Pennyworth's voice rung through the hall as Dick stepped into the manor.

"Alfred!" he cried, fondly embracing the butler. "How are you, you look good, yeah?" He smiled.

"Oh Master Richard," Alfred waved his hand dismissively. "Master Bruce has been anxiously awaiting your visit here, he said he had a glorious time at the party last night.

Alfred couldn't help but smile at the young master. He had grown up so much within the past six years, Alfred only wishing that he could've been there to witness it. Dick's hair no longer was slicked back, but more gelled into a lazy side swept, highlighting his cyan eyes quite nicely. He'd surpassed Alfred in height long ago, though it still didn't catch Alfred by surprise.

Dick grinned; rather pleased Bruce was so thrilled. "Awesome, is he here?" he asked.

Alfred frowned. "No, unfortunately, he has an important meeting currently, however he did tell me that if you stopped by to tie you down and make sure you didn't leave the premises! He wishes to discuss your life and the future of Wayne Enterprise with you."

Dick chuckled. "Alright, I will wait here till he gets back from his meeting-don't worry you don't need to get out the rope." He joked. Bruce was most likely planning on doling out some of the company to Richard, something he'd discussed with Dick for a while now.

Dick talked with Alfred for a while, and was then left in Bruce's office to wait for his return. Upon waiting, he couldn't help but take a look around-after all that was what he did best.

The office was comprised of every normal necessity an office could need-though Dick didn't think a photo album of his own adventures was necessary. The scrap book, contained clippings and photos of Robin in his Young Justice days, to his Teen Titans, till finally his conquests as Nightwing. Smiling, Dick couldn't help but feel touched.

"Dick?" Bruce's familiar low voice echoed throughout the library.

"I guess I know who my biggest fan is." Dick quipped with a cheeky grin, only causing Bruce to smirk. He muttered something along the lines of "still have your boyish charm," but didn't react.

"Let's just say I like to keep special files for my protégée." He put his hand on Dick's shoulder affectionately, before actually pulling him into a hug.

"I was surprised you had time to come to the benefit party last night." Bruce continued, walking over to his chair, "But my guests and colleagues were quite taken with you, especially the female ones." He smirked.

Dick laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Like father like son, right?" He quipped. It was actually the title of several tabloid articles regarding Dick and the million girls he was taking out. Yes, Dick Grayson had succumbed to be just as much of a playboy as his 'father' Bruce Wayne-maybe even more of one.

"Exactly what I thought," Bruce's eyes twinkled dangerously. "Especially when I saw you walking out with Helena…" His voice now dripped with disapproval. Dick expected it though; this was something Bruce would never approve of.

Dick put his hands up in defense. "Honestly, I don't even remember talking to her last night," he rubbed his eyes, "if it helps I don't think anything happened." He said quietly.

Bruce shook his head. "You've been barely legal to even drink for a year, don't tell me you got too hazy after being there for only two hours. I don't want you tainting your reputation upon your arrival. Don't let something like this happen again."

Dick narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms in a huff. Still treating me like a child I see. He thought, biting his lip. Reason number 3?

Bruce continued. "Helena is off limits. As are all supers. I don't think I can handle you fraternizing with supers like that, especially when they don't even know you're one of their kind." He said lowly.

Dick frowned. Too late. Reason number 10.

Lowering his head, Dick sighed. He really needed to quit his playboy antics. But to do that he would need to stop the source of his actions-that was a lost cause. Reason number 5… He thought scornfully.

"Master Richard, you've received mail." Alfred's voice broke Dick's thought process.

"What? Huh, how'd anyone even know I was here…?" he frowned.

"Why sir, you've made the front page." Alfred replied, tossing the letter as well as the post in front of the boy.

Sure enough, dressed in his Armani suit was Dick Grayson, chatting casually with Bruce and some female guests. Quickly scanning the article, he rolled his eyes as it went on of his 'looks', 'piercing eyes', 'heavenly hair', 'charming smile', and 'chiseled physique'.

Bruce rolled his eyes with a laugh. "I guess you've received your own personal self-esteem booster." He quipped, before scanning the article to see similar descriptions about him.

"Ya, ya." Dick said swatting his hand before glancing over at the letter. It was a simple cream one, thick, with his name scrawled in clean cursive. Raising a brow, he tore it open and scanned it quickly, before almost choking on air.

"Dick? What is it?" Bruce asked, narrowing his eyes. "Read it aloud."

Dick obeyed, wincing as he read.

"Dear Richard Grayson,

You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of Wallace Rudolph West and Artemis T. Crock-"

Dick paused.

Artemis Crock. Reason number 1.