So groan now because this is a post- story to Agendas. I have wanted to write this ever since the episode aired and wondered what the hell Batman and Robin did for Thanksgiving. After having a very weird daydream my story morphed into a very weird Bruce wonders about his protégé's happiness fic. I hope you enjoy.

Turn out Like You

"I shouldn't be surprised since you indoctrinated Robin into crime fighting at the ripe old age of 9."

"Robin needed to help bring the men who murdered his family to justice"

"So he can turn out like you?"

"So that he wouldn't"

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Bruce opened the trap door that led from the Batcave to the mansion and closed it with a sigh. The words of Wonder Woman still resonated in his head.

"So he can turn out like you?"

Had Dick turn into him. Has he damned the teen to walk the rest of his life sacrificing himself and those around him to get the mission done, to live a miserable life with a few glimpses of happiness? That wasn't what he wanted this arrangement to be about. He did this for the boy and maybe, selfishly a little for himself.

Bruce sniffed the air and smelled of cinnamon and apples filled his nose; Alfred was in the process of making his famous apple pie. He walked down the hallway and silently opened the swinging door. Alfred was bent over checking the turkey in the oven and Bruce's eyes soften at the sight of his ward.

Dick had his back to Bruce and was busy mixing something in a bowl. He leaned over a book of recipes in front of him and skimmed the page; his navy blue V-neck shirt splattered with bits of cake batter. Alfred turned around and straightened in surprise.

"Master Bruce!" Alfred stated. Dick turned his head in surprise his dark blue eyes widening.

"Bruce, you're back early. I thought you were at a Justice League meeting," Dick said wiping his face causing flour to spread along his cheek. Bruce smiled inwardly at the sight.

"We concluded early. Something about Flash needing to get back before Kid Flash eats the entire thanksgiving dinner," Bruce laughed, walking over to Dick.

"That's impossible even for Wally," Dick laughed. Alfred smiled at the small joke.

"Well," he said closing the oven with a thud. "If you are here to stay Master Bruce would you help Master Richard with the rolls so I can finish with the table setting. If you do we might be able to leave for the hospital early this year," the man said.

Bruce nodded letting the caregiver to walk through the door Bruce walked in from. Dick passed the mixing bowl to his guardian in silence and took some of the dough he already made and began to knead it. Bruce had noticed Dick frown at the mention of the hospital.

It had become a tradition that Dick did during the holidays. He would help Alfred in the kitchen with the desserts and set aside something nice for the nurses taking care of his comatose uncle. Christmas was usually cookies, Halloween was caramel apples, and New Year's was cake. Now he was making cinnamon buns for Thanksgiving. Usually, Bruce wasn't home and Dick would go in with Alfred, say hello to the staff with his desserts, talk to his uncle for a little bit and then be home in time to spend the holiday with Bruce and on occasion some friends. This year the bat family was being joined with Dr. Leslie Thompkins; Bruce's longtime friend and doctor to the Batman.

As Bruce mixed the ingredients he took a sideways glance at his charge. Dick was deep in concentration rolling the dough and maneuvering it into the shape of a classic cinnamon bun.

So he can turn out like you?

Wonder Woman's voice churned in Bruce's head again as he looked at the solemn expression sketched onto Dick's face. It didn't look right on the teen's face that was usually wrapped in a smile or smirk even when fighting the villains. He was always filled with joy. Bruce looked over to the white package of flour to the side of the bowl. Could he do it? He only knew how to fight the bad guys of Gotham so could he achieve making a smile appear on his protégés face? He gripped the bag and brought it above the boy's head.

"Hey Dick," Bruce said. The teen blinked at his named being called and looked up at his caregiver. His eyes widen but it was too late for him to do anything as Bruce emptied the bag of flour on top of Dick's head. As the white ingredient settled over the boy's shoulders and head Dick let go of the dough in his hands which was miraculously mostly spared by the onslaught of powder. He looked at Bruce with wide eyes of shock.

"Wha…wha…" Dick couldn't seem to be able to form words.

"You have a little something on your cheek…" Bruce smiled wiping some flour off of Dick's face. Dick glared at the older man but it was matched with a mischievous smirk. Without taking his eyes off his mentor he reached over to the bag of sugar and held it out in front of him. Bruce began to back away.

"You are so dead," Dick said and flung the sugar at the older man. Bruce covered his face with a cross of his arms but it didn't protect him enough to not be covered in the fine crystals. Dick smiled with satisfaction but it was short lived as Bruce shook his head and held his arms out to grab Dick.

"No wait," Dick laughed and turned to run. He wasn't fast enough as the multibillionaire grabbed Dick around the waist and pulled him back tickling the teen in the process. Through his laughter Dick grabbed some extra dough and reached up plopping it on top of Bruce's head. Bruce let go off Dick and felt the gooey substance on his head. Dick eyes widen as Bruce grabbed for another ingredient on the counter and tackled the 13 year old.

A few minutes later Alfred walked into the kitchen holding two long candles in his hand. He couldn't decide if they would be using the tan or silver waxed ones. He looked up from the objects and dropped them both at the sight in front of him.

Both Bruce and Dick sat on the kitchen floor covered in both dessert and dinner ingredients laughing and gulping for air. When the two looked up at the Butler the sobered up quickly. Bruce looked around the kitchen and realized that the dynamic duo might have gone a little overboard. He looked over to the teen and his eyes widen at the sight of Dick's finger pointed at him.

"He started it," Dick shouted quickly.

"Thanks for throwing me under the bus," Bruce said back and Dick just shrugged with a laugh.

"I don't care who started it you're both going to clean it," Alfred said in anger but the two recognized the undertone of amusement under it. At this point it didn't matter if they were the master's and Alfred, the Butler; they weren't going to disobey the older man.

After much cleaning and quick showers Alfred had brought the car around and Bruce called out for Dick from the front door. Dick ran to the stairs, jumped onto the railing and slid down the banister landing on his feet. He raised his hands up.

"And the crowed goes wild," he says happily. Bruce shook his head and held Dicks light parker out and the teen grabbed it and made his way to the car.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

The nurses at the hospital swooned and giggled as the hansom bachelor of Gotham made his way down the wing with Dick. Dick ignored their acts and smiled. A doctor came out of a room, spotted Dick and walked over to him.

"Hello doctor Brooks," Dick said with the plate in his hands.

"Hello Mr. Grayson," The female doctor said back.

"I brought you all cinnamon rolls," the teen said handing the doctor the treats.

"They look delicious. I'm sure the nurses will eat them up before the day is up," she said. Dick smiled and then walked past her. He quietly opened a door and gave Bruce a fleeting look before going inside.

"It's nice to see you again Mr. Wayne," the woman said holding her free hand to the man.

"It has been awhile," he said taking her hand. "How is he?" he said referring to Dick's uncle.

"The same as always," she said with a sigh. Wayne looked past her and could see through the crack of the door Dick hunched over a bed and talking quietly to the person on the bed. He gripped the person's hand and looked down.

"So he can turn out like you?"

"Mr. Wayne?" Bruce heard and looked at the doctor.

"Oh I'm sorry. What was that?"

"I said that you seem to be doing a great job with Mr. Grayson."

Bruce looked at her in surprise.

"You think so?" he asked.

"Considering the circumstances he seems quite happy. If you don't mind me saying I think that you have so much in common with each other that he has a connection he wouldn't have gotten with any other foster parent. He is lucky to have found you."

Bruce looked away. The doctor had said exactly what he had feared. They were too much alike. The one thing he didn't want Dick to be.

Once back in the car the three family members were enveloped into silence. As Alfred busily drove the car Bruce looked over at Dick who sat leaning his chin on his hand and looking out the window.

"So he can turn out like you?"

Bruce cleared his throat.

"Dick…can I ask you something," he asked.

"hmmm?" Dick asked not taking his eyes off the road.

"Are you…happy?" This caught Dick's attention and looked at the older man sharply. Alfred looked up and stared Bruce through the rear view window but continued to drive in silence.

"Yeah I'm happy…why?" Dick asked in confusion.

"It's just something that I have been wondering for a while. I know our life style is strenuous and I wanted to make sure that there isn't anything that you would want to change?"

"Change…" Dick said in thought. "Well if I had to change something I would like to be allowed to drive the batmobile every once and awhile."

The teen was only met with a 'Not-if-your-life-depended-on-it-look'

"Worth a shot." Dick said with a small laugh.

"I just want to make sure that you have the life that you want and that you don't feel like I'm forcing this on you. That you're turning out like me," Bruce finished off quietly. Dick looked at him like he grew another head.

"You're acting really weird," Dick said. "I'm fine; I would tell you if I wanted to stop with the Robin gig you know that. And the bit about turning into you, well I don't see a problem with that," Dick said and Bruce looked at him sadly.

"But being the Batman…"

"I don't mean the Batman," Dick interrupted Bruce quickly. "I meant you, Bruce. I have no problem if I end up being like Bruce Wayne."

Bruce sighed slightly and ruffled Dick's hair and Alfred's smile went unnoticed

That night Bruce sat in silence and watched as Alfred past the wine over to Leslie who was telling Dick stories of her trip to Africa when she was younger. He knew that next year he might not be here to do this; to sit around the table with his family.

He watched Dick take a sip of his drink and choke on something funny Alfred said with a laugh. He hoped that one day Dick would grow up happy. He didn't want Dick to become the Batman but to become his own man. He wanted to be there for that and maybe watch Dick take over the Wayne business when he was ready to retire.

"So he can turn out like you?"

Wonder Woman's words rang through his head one last time that night. But this time he realized that maybe that that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

So yeah, crappy ending but I've just had this image of Bruce coming home from that Justice League meeting and having a food fight with Dick while making Thanksgiving dinner. I know super weird. I'm not very good at one shots but if you do end up reviewing…

Review kindly please xD