Title: Dress Blues

Author: Darklady

Fandom: Batman (DC comics)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Richard Grayson

Rated: R+ (slash)

Status: New Here.

Archive: WWOMB. All others please ask first. (I'm easy, really)

Sequel to: Moving Violation

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They just *wish* I did. DC owns them, and never lets them have *any* fun like this.

Summary: Dick Grayson stands tall. (Or is that...Grayson's dick stands tall?)

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Academy Graduation. A proud day even for an outfit as ragged as the BHPD. We stand in neatly ordered ranks of starched blue as the new graduates march up to the podium. Each shakes the
Inspector's hand, and then salutes. It is their first act as a member of the force, and a rite of passage. A rite of passage also for last years class. Tomorrow someone else will be the 'rookie', and we will be old troops.

New and old, men and women, we are all cops. Today we are their comrades and we are here for them. We stand at attention, rigid in our dress blues.

"Dick?"

The receiver in my ear. I left it on because Oracle is at alert.

"Bat...Bruce? Is that you?" I whisper, barley moving my lips.

It's him, but it's not the 'Bat' voice."

"Someone else has this number?"

Hardly a question.

"What's wrong?"

The throat mike is ultra sensitive. If I pitch my voice right, no one else will hear me.

"Wrong? Why would anything be wrong?"

That light tone. What is he up to?

"Do you have any *idea* where I am?"

"Why, yes ,"Officer Grayson", I know exactly where you are. The real question is - do you know where * I* am?"

"Bruce!"

"The answer isn't 'driving down 101', now, is it?"

I refuse to answer.

"And it's not 'in the cave'."

Whatever his game, I will not play along.

"Actually, I'm sitting in the jaccuzzi."

This is too weird.

"Bruce. Are you OK?"

"I am *very* OK. Wonderful, in fact. I'm just sitting here and thinking about our last meeting, out by the side of the road. I remember it well. I remember every detail as if it were taking place again right now. You remember it too, don't you "Officer Grayson"."

"Holy....., Bruce, I'm sorry if..."

"Don't be. I'm not."

That's his real voice again. Unnaturally sure.

"Something about the bubbles reminds me of you. I wonder what? Could it be the way they slide up my leg, catching in all the little hairs and tickling as they pass? Your tongue is like that. Did you know that?

I have always loved his voice. Sometimes I've thought I could come just listening to it.

"Maybe its the whirlpool. Such a strong jet, pulsing and throbbing against my shoulders. Pulsing and throbbing. Does that bring back memories?"

I'm about to find out.

"Maybe its the waves. They're small, but I can feel them lapping at my skin. They just brush against the back of my neck, like soft lips. Your lips can be soft like that sometimes."

"Bruce, I am on parade!"

"I know." He pauses,and I hear a faint click in the background." I'm watching on the television. I can see you standing there, all stiff and strong. Stiff and strong. Now what does that remind me of?"

"Damnit, Bruce. Would it help if I said.....?"

"Save your breath, bird boy."

He laughs. For a good guy, Bruce has really an evil laugh.

"It's time you remembered those lessons in self-control."

"Hey, Grayson." Ducher gives me an elbow in the ribs. "You seem distracted"

"Just - going over the agenda in my head."

"Is that what you're going over?" the voice purrs.

Shit, he's also getting me back for the stupid puns.

"I have an agenda. It involves going over you. Going *all* over you. Going over you with my tongue, and with my hands, and with that lavender oil you like so much. Starting at your toes, and wandering slowly up you calves to the back of your knees. You're sensitive there, aren't you. Almost ticklish. How does it feel when I lick the backs of your knees? Shall we go over that?"

I shake my head. Maybe I can dislodge the earpiece.

"Grayson, you OK?"

"Uh. Yes, Sargent. Just tired. A hard night."

"Tired? Perhaps you should go to bed. Not that I'd let you get any rest. Not at first. Not for a long time. Not until I'd shown you what a hard knight means. Would you like to have a hard knight? Long and hard. You know I can make you very long and hard."

I can't help it. Parade rest or not, I reach up to click the earphone off.

Wilson catches the movement and slips me a kleenex.

"Here kid - Heat getting to you?"

"Yeh - the heat."