#I will admit I am not as familiar with DP as I am Batman

[foolishaetherguardian]

Bruce knew that Alfred had an arsenal hidden throughout his house. A half dozen would be thieves had been filled with rubber before he had finally accepted that no matter how many of them he found the old man would have some guns hidden away. However, it was still a shock to see the entire dining room table completely covered in firearms and demolitions equipment. Especially considering the table could comfortably sit 26.

"Ah Master Bruce" Alfred barely even looked up from the pile of weapons he was sorting through to greet him. "I must apologize for the mess but there has been a family emergency."

Those last two words set every thing in Bruce on edge. "Who was hurt?" Damien was on a school trip, Duke was still on bedrest due to a concussion, Jason was out of town with the Outlaws and Dick was in Bludhaven. That left Cass, Tim, Barbara and Steph. Cass would likely find her way home even if Gotham was reduced to a pile of rubble so she was probably fine. Tim had survived the end of the world, three times at least so he would be fine too. Steph or Barbara then.

"My niece. Or rather her son." Alfred had settled on the small arsenal he was taking and began to load the dufflebags he had set out. "There is enough food in the freezer to last 3 weeks. All meals are labeled with your names and heating instructions." Four large bricks of clay and wires went into another dufflebag. C4. Why did he have C4? Who was Alfred up against here?

"Alfred..." Dammit words, words were always hard. Especially when it came to family. Maybe it wasn't words that were hard. Maybe it was the truth? Something to look into later. "I can help. We can help."

"I'm afraid you can't Master Bruce. At least not with what I need to do. You are after all your father's son. A man of steel morality. You cannot bend for anyone." And then a moment later almost to soft to hear. "Much less for family."

Alfred had always insisted on a bit of distance between them. Bruce was Thomas' son. Martha's son. His master. So his whispered addition made Bruce's mouth twitch, a smile despite the seriousness of what he had said.

"And before you ask Master Bruce, I have already taken two beacons. Just in case. Young Master Jason will be back tomorrow and he has already agreed to take care of the mess I have, quite regrettably, had to make."

Every question he would have asked, every thought, every delay was headed off. Alfred had raised him. Had seen him at every low and every high. So he knew the questions before Bruce even asked them.

"Miss Cassandra and Miss Brown will find instructions in their rooms. I've left a bit of a puzzle for you on your desk as well. If you could solve it before I return I would be most grateful."

"When is a meta not a person? When they are dead."

The riddle and the list of several dozen environmental control and protection acts, all with riders regarding ectoplasm, had spun in Bruce's head for the better part of the week. Cassandra and Stephanie had already completed the cleaning of four suites in the servant's wing and Jason had nearly hurt himself laughing at the dining room table before all the weapons and explosives vanished in an alarmingly short time. So it was just Bruce left with homework. Tim had offered to help. And he almost accepted the offer. Almost. Then he found the three paragraph ride in the Energy Policy Act of 1992.

"All beings showing an Ecto (3775.1 A) signature are considered to be non sentient Ecto waste to be disposed of according to the Nuclear Waste Policy Act of 1982, Section 101, Paragraph C."

An answer finally. Hidden throughout nearly 100 years of environmental protections and culminating in the government authorized execution of any being showing an above average radiation level.

Bruce suddenly had a few calls to make, and more than a few favors to call in. Someone was about to have to cover up the one man army ripping through Midwestern Black Sites in search of something or someone.

Dcxdp

Biofam 4/5

Maddie didn’t speak to her father, as did her sister. Unfortunately, that made it hard for them to contact their favorite uncle, but when they left at eighteen, they both agreed it was for the best. Even after they found out the old man was dead, they didn’t reach out, unsure of what they would say.

That was then.

Now, with shaking hands covered in ectoplasm,(god her baby was hurt, she had been hurting her baby, THOSE BASTARDS IN WHITE HURT HER BABIES) she dialed the number that she had never managed to forget.

“Hello, who is this and how did you get this number?” The British accent soothed a part of her she hadn’t noticed was tense.

“Uncle Alfred.” Maddie could barely choke out his name, hands still shaking. “I need help.”

[timberwolf-wwe-marvel]

A new Family

Ch.1  Ch.2  Ch.3  Ch.4  Ch.5  Ch.6  Ch.7  Ch.8  Ch.9

Chapter 10

Summary:  Bruce drags Daniel away while the kids talk; enter Cujo.

Bruce grabs his boyfriends’ bags; Daniel rolls his eyes, “Need I remind you, I can handle myself.”  The ravenette locks eyes with the brunette, both smiling at each other.  “So, when did you take them in,” the question wasn’t a surprise.  “Close to a month ago, Jazz is entering a criminal psychology course next week; the twins are being home-schooled.”  Bruce hums, “You think the grades are because of the ghost attacks?”

Daniel shakes his head, “Not likely; while in Amity the first time, the school day went as usual.”  Bruce frowns, “Do you think,” Daniel nods, then glances to his surrogate son, “He feels responsible because of it; his folks never noticed the clues.”  Both watch as the boys drag Danny away from the girls; Daniel chuckles.  “I hope to god Jason doesn’t corrupt him,” Bruce smiles, leaning against the taller man's shoulder.

Daniel follows Bruce up the stairs to the main bedroom; both lay on the bed.  Silence fills the air; Bruce looks to Daniel, “Is that scar new?”  Daniel hums, rubbing the area, “Yeah, but I didn’t get it in a fight, believe it or not.”  Bruce turns onto his side; Daniel mirrors the action, “I’ll be the judge of that.”  Daniel smiles, “So, I’m jogging before a meeting, right?

This car speeds past me, obviously late to work or something; the back left tire kicks up many pebbles.  They hit my face, and the car doesn’t stop; the worst part, I didn’t feel it until I got home.”  Bruce gives him a blank look, then shakes his head, “How is it when I visit you, rouges follow the Batman, but you visit me, nothing happens?”  Daniel smirks, “Well, I’m pretty sure Croc still remembers the time I used Hammers’ revamped adaptiod to beat his ass.”

A loud rumbling growl shakes the room; Bruce stares as Daniel pales, “No, from Amity?”  Daniel bolts up; Bruce follows him, “Daniel, what is it?”  He bumps the back of Daniel; bright green fills his eyes.  A sizeable green mastiff is standing in the foyer; the kids keep Alfred out of harm's way.  The twins, Danny and Ellie, try to calm him down; Titus growls back.

“CUJO,” the mastiff blinks, looking to see Daniel; the man has his arms crossed.  Cujo whines, shrinking in size; Daniel walks down.  Cujo is now the size of an eight to ten-week-old Mastiff puppy; his collar has the signature DP.  “Bad ghost dog, Alfred worked hard for this house to be clean before our arrival.  Now go apologize to Mister Pennyworth, or it’s Batcave for you.”

The ghost whines, floating to Alfred, protected by Jason and Tim; Alfred sighs.  “I must admit, that might have been scarier than learning Master Bruce is the Batman.”  He kneels, resting his hand on Cujo, “If you promise not to cause more trouble, you can stay while Master Daniel visits.  After all, you do seem to like the boy, Danny.”  Alfred shoos Cujo, who flies to Danny, licking his face, “Okay, I guess you’re forgiven.”

The kids run outside with the dogs; Daniel sighs, “How do you do it, Bruce?”  Said man smiles, kissing the other man on his cheek, “Being the Batman helped me with disciplining all of them.  You’ll get used to it, trust me.”  Daniel turns to Bruce, then looks at the clock, “Two hours to dinner, you wanna,” Alfred coughs.  “Might I suggest not doing such a thing before dinner? I’ve only made so much.”

Two hours later, Cujo is nuzzling under Titus as the Wayne and Romanova families eat, the boys sitting across from the girls.  Jazzs’ hair is in a french braid, while Ellies’ hair is in pigtails.  Dannys’ hair is shorter; no doubt the boys shaved his hair, “Nice hair, Danny.  Did Alfred know you’re going to use his razor?”  Ellie earns a raspberry in response; Cujo growls.

Daniel and Bruce make eye contact just as the familiar blue mist exits Danny’s mouth.  “Beware!  I am the Box Ghost,” the twins groan; Danny stands up, pointing to the Box Ghost.  “Either leave now, or you stay in the thermos for half a month!”  The kids and Box Ghost blink, “I will take my leave by exiting the perpendicular shaped panes of glass.”

The ghost turns intangible, flying through the window.  Danny turns to Cujo, still growling at the window, "Cujo, no."  The puppy lays back down, Titus lifts his head.  "Danny, go work," Danny smiles at the older man.  Everyone continues eating; Bruce grabs his plate, moving to Daniel.

The kids head off to bed; Danny stops Daniel; Bruce glances back.  "I just have this feeling; what if Boxy tells the entire Zone that I'm with you?"  Daniel rests his hand on Danny's shoulder, "Technus called you Phantom in front of your class and parents, you'll be fine."  Danny sighs, leaning against the older man, "I know, but what about Plasmius?"  Bruce narrows his eyes, assuming that Plasmius is the primary foe Phantom faces.

After years of spending time with the man, Bruce can read Daniel like a book.  The slight stiffness in his shoulders, him scraping his peeling skin.  Bruce walks over, wrapping an arm around Daniel, “Danny, you’re currently in one of the safest houses ever; not even Lobo can enter.”  Danny chuckles, both not the self-conscious tone; then it hits them, Lobo isn’t a ghost.  “If it’s ghosts you’re worried about, I’m sure Constantine or Zatanna have a spell that can help.”

Batcave  21:15

Batman is sitting at the computer, looking over reports; a familiar arms rest against the back.  “Any heist by Penguin lately, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see me.”  Timberwolf earns a grunt, but it doesn’t bother him now, not like it had the first time.  Both watch the screen as Batman types on the keyboard, then the screen flashes; it’s Joker.  “I know he’ll be delighted to see me again,” both head toward the batmobile.