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Tim was supposed to have learned his lesson about skateboarding indoors after his mother found a mark left behind on the hardwood floors. He’d had to sand and refinish the spot himself, and his parents had taken away his board and amended their dinner reservation to just two the night before they left again. His skateboard was still in their closet, but he’d retrieved it, knowing they wouldn’t remember it had been there when they came back next. All he’d really learned was how to sand and apply the finish and to carefully check the floors for marks or damage before his parents could come back and see anything amiss. But it’s not like he’s doing any major damage, especially if he doesn’t do any tricks. He thinks that’s what had gotten him in trouble the first time.
He wouldn’t normally think to try it next door at Wayne Manor, but it’s freezing outside and he’s the only one home for once (and isn’t that something, that they trust him in the house alone? Somehow it feels totally different than being alone in his own house). And so, in a moment of weakness, he decides it can’t hurt anything as long as he follows his usual procedure and makes sure to clean up afterwards. Besides, this place is even bigger than Drake Manor, which means longer hallways to skate through.
He starts in some out of the way hall that he’s never seen anyone go down but Alfred (who’d only been dusting). He builds up speed there with no obstacles like art pieces or furniture to worry about, whipping around corners and even zipping through the big foyer. There’s a little thrill to doing something forbidden (even if technically no one ever said it is), the same one he used to feel climbing up rusty fire escapes at night to take pictures.
He has to ollie over a transition strip between the flooring at the edge of the room and the next hallway, and he makes a note to come back and check there for scuff marks. He has to be a little more careful in this hall, with its slim table holding a vase and its wall of framed photos, but it’s not hard to keep clear of them. He’s entertaining unrealistic fantasies of grinding down the bannister of the showy grand staircase when he hears a door open behind him.
He stops so fast he nearly falls, whirling around to see who’s caught him. It’s Bruce, poking his head out from his study. It’s Bruce. And he saw him acting like a stupid reckless child with no regard for the house or its owner. That’s it, it’s over. He got too comfortable here and forgot his place, and now he won’t have one at all anymore.
“I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t knock anything over, and I’ll sand and refinish if I left any marks! And you can take my skateboard.” He pops the board up and holds it out to Bruce. “I can have everything packed up and be out in ten minutes, but please don’t take Robin away. Please.”
“What?” Bruce looks at the board but doesn’t move to take it. Tim doesn’t understand why he isn’t being scolded for his irresponsibility and sent away to wreck his own house instead of Bruce’s.
“Tim.” Bruce directs that intense focus at him. “I’m not going to take away Robin. It’s clear you know skateboarding in the house isn’t the best idea, but it’s not a crime. And I’m certainly not going to kick you out.”
“But I knew better and I did it anyway.” Tim says, because apparently he has to dig himself in deeper.
“You’re a teenager. In my experience, that happens sometimes.” Bruce smiles wryly. “Besides, you’re not even the first kid to skateboard in this house.”
“…Dick?” Tim guesses, though he’s never heard him talk about skating or seen him with a board. It’s better than guessing Jason and being wrong.
“Me, actually.”
“You skate?”
“I used to. I still have my old board around here somewhere, unless the force of Alfred’s disdain for it has made it disintegrate.”
That gets a little huff of amusement out of Tim. He can easily picture poor Alfred scolding a teenage Bruce for skateboarding down the halls.
“You know… I’d love to give it a try again. See if I’ve still got it. After all, there’s plenty of room. And Alfred is still out running his errands.” He smiles conspiratorially. Tim’s eyes widen.
“You’re gonna skate in the house? Really?”
“If you’ll let me borrow your board.” Bruce says, and Tim hands it over. He has to see this.
“Let’s try somewhere with a little more room. I’m not sure how good I’ll be after all these years.” Bruce leads him out into a wider room that doesn’t seem to have any purpose beyond joining hallways. He starts at one end of the room, with Tim safely out of the way to give him room to work.
He builds up a little speed and jumps, Tim’s board spinning in the air under him almost one hundred and eighty degrees in a pop shove it before he lands, a little wobbly since the board hadn’t landed straight, but still way cooler than Tim had expected.
“I didn’t think it was wise to try for a three-sixty without any practice.” Bruce says as he brings the board to a stop. “Looks like I was right not to.”
“That was awesome, Bruce!” Tim can do the three-sixty, sure, but for a guy he didn’t even know could skate to do in the house after years of not skating, it’s still impressive. He takes his board back when Bruce holds it out, but now that he knows about this, he’s a little disappointed not to see more.
“Thank you, but I’m sure you’ve seen much better.” Bruce waves the compliment off. “I think Alfred is on his way home by now, but maybe you can show me what kind of tricks you kids do these days some other time.”
“We could go to the skatepark.” Tim blurts out, ignoring the use of “kids these days” from a man who isn’t even forty yet. “You could borrow my board again, if you wanted to.”
“I think we could make time for that. Maybe I’ll even find my own board by then. I’m sure Alfred would love to see it again.” Bruce jokes, and Tim smiles. It’s nice that Bruce is interested, not like his parents (who always say skating isn’t a respectable hobby, not the sort of thing they can brag about their son doing).
“Sounds like fun.”