Gators for Grown Ups
By Chicago 
 
	"Hey, Dick," Tim called from the second floor of the Drake house. 
"I just gotta finish the conclusion for this paper and I'll be right down." 
	"Sure, Tim," Dick replied, sinking back in the cushions of the 
couch he'd been led to. He sincerely hoped that "finishing the conclusion" 
did not lead to "revising the introduction" and "reorganizing the paper." 
He was having a bad enough day as it was without being late to the Manor 
for dinner. 
	"Bert, get back here!" Dana Drake's voice called, chasing the 
giggles of the toddler. Dick turned in the direction of the sounds in time 
to see Bert burst from a hallway and skid to a halt in his footie pajamas, 
staring at the unexpected person in his living room. Dana almost tripped 
over the halted boy as she followed hot on his heels. 
	"Oh!" she exclaimed, noticing their visitor. "Hi, Dick." She was 
wearing an elegant sheath dress and her hair was nicely coiffed, but her 
feet were bare and she had only one earring in. She seemed self-conscious 
to be caught mid-preparation for something as she scooped up her 
wiggling son. 
	"I'm just trying to get Bert down before the sitter gets here," she 
explained, pulling her face back from Bert's attempts to get her to kiss 
his gator. 
	Dick smiled at the harried mother. "It's no problem, Mrs. Drake. 
Do you want me to keep an eye on him while you finish getting ready? I 
think Tim's going to be a while." 
	Dana's face lit up hopefully. "Oh, could you? He's just not ready 
to sleep yet, and -" 
	Dick crossed the room and plucked Bert, gator and all, from her 
arms. "Go," he said, giving the toddler a broad smile. "I think a couple 
rounds with the tickle monster will tucker him out." As he spoke, he made 
a tickling gesture toward Bert, causing new squeals of laughter. 
	"Thanks, Dick," Dana said gratefully, giving Bert a quick kiss on 
the cheek before disappearing back toward the her room. 
	Moving into the center of the living room, Dick set Bert down and 
stepped back a few feet. Then he dropped into a crouch. "Okay, tough 
guy," he growled, " I'm gonna get you!" 
	Bert stared at Dick for a split second before leading him on a 
merry chase around the sofa. Dick lurched after him in a semi-crouch, 
making menacing monster noises and periodically "almost" catching him. 
The range of the game expanded to involve the other furniture. 
	There were sudden moments of silence as Dick ducked behind 
easy chairs and into corners, leaving Bert cautiously looking for him 
before he jumped out with a sudden roar and began the chase again. 
	At one point in his scramble for escape, Bert dropped his gator. 
Dick pounced on it with a loud, "A-HA! Now I've got a hostage!" 
	The chaser became the chasee as Dick began a spirited game of 
keep away. Abruptly, though, Bert ceased his chasing. 
	Happy at the reprieve, Dick stopped his rampage and worked to 
catch his breath. Harder work than chasing bad guys, he reflected, 
watching the small boy before him. 
	Bert stared at him and held out his arms. Dick held the gator just 
out of his reach. "You want this, kiddo?" he teased. 
	Bert reacted with a trembling lower lip. 
	"Whoa, hold on, kid," Dick hastened, rushing forward to restore 
the gator and pick up the child. "There you go, safe and sound." 
	Bert, settled on Dick's hip, smiled beatifically as he hugged the 
stuffed animal to him. Dick, relieved, sat down on the sofa, resettling 
Bert on his lap. Despite their exertion, the toddler still smelled of baby 
shampoo and talcum. He curled against Dick's chest happily, squeezing 
his gator and popping one of its legs into his mouth. Dick smiled, feeling 
suddenly wistful. 
	Abruptly, the gator was thrust into his face. "Gah?" Bert asked, 
his face wearing the odd concern that only babies can really convey. 
	Dick chuckled. "No, I don't really want a bite, thanks." 
	Bert was insistent. "Gah!" 
	"Okay, okay." Dick accepted the gator and gave it a squeeze. Then 
he paused to inspect the stuffed animal which went everywhere with Tim's 
baby brother. The flocking on it was beginning to wear thin, and hints of 
bare fabric were evident through the green fur-ish material that covered 
it. It was sticky with drool and baby food, although Tim swore it was 
washed once a week. One eye was crooked, having required reattachment 
at some point in recent history. The toy bespoke a life of love. 
	Dick sighed. "Do they make gators for grown ups?" he asked, 
handing the animal back to its owner. 
	"Kip tun gah!" Bert exclaimed, holding the gator over his head 
before again popping its foot in his mouth. 
	"Whatever you say, kid. Hold on to it as long as you can, that 
gator. The world won't throw many things your way that will love you that 
unconditionally." 
	Bert snuggled deeper into the crook of Dick's arm, resting his head 
against his chest. Dick cradled him in strong arms, his thoughts flying 
elsewhere. "Un kip tun leep," Bert said, positioning the toy against 
Dick's chest so it's nose rested right below Dick's chin. Dick moved it 
with his free hand, but when he tried to put it back in Bert's hands, the 
baby protested. "Hol gah!" 
	Dick started and blinked at Bert, swearing the boy was telling him 
to hold the gator. "All right," he agreed, bemused. 
	He found himself studying the toy again. "When did things get 
complicated, I wonder?" Dick mused, turning the gator in his hand. "It 
seems simple enough - love something and stand by it and it will be there 
for you." 
	"Ba man," Bert murmured sleepily. 
	Dick let out a rueful chuckle, knowing he was just hearing things 
in Bert's baby talk. "Yeah, like Batman. Except when your wife's father 
gets killed and your father decides to withdraw from everyone again." 
	Dick tightened his grip on the gator, watching its ever smiling 
face stay smiling, never protesting his too-hard hold. He wondered how 
this evening would go - the Alfred-planned dinner to deal with Bruce. 
Barbara had refused to come, still angry at what she called Bruce's 
selfishness since the funeral three weeks ago. Dick couldn't blame her, 
but it didn't make it easier on him to feel like he had to choose whether 
to soothe his wife or his mentor. He sighed. At least Babs appreciated 
his efforts. 
	Bert shifted and put an arm across Dick's stomach. "Luf dih." 
	Dick gently leaned his cheek against Bert's baby curls. "You're a 
good kid, Bert Drake," he whispered, aware the boy was drifting into 
sleep. 
 
	"Sorry that took so long, Dick," Tim apologized, racing down the 
stairs as he put on his jacket. 
	"Shhh." Dick said softly, looking significantly at the baby in his 
lap. 
	"Oh, you got Bert duty!" Tim whispered. "Did he just fall asleep?" 
	Dick nodded. 
	"Let me take him. I'll put him in his crib and let Dana know we're 
leaving." 
	Tim lifted Bert from Dick's arms with the practiced ease of a big 
brother, managing somehow not to wake the sleeping toddler. Dick smiled 
as he watched Tim deftly shift the child onto his shoulder, gently rocking 
his body to soothe away any effort for wakefulness on Bert's part. It took 
Dick a moment to realize that Tim was looking at him expectantly. 
	"Umm, Dick? Want me to get you your own gator?" 
	Dick started, then handed over the toy sheepishly. As he watched 
Tim carry his brother off to bed, he said softly, "Yeah, maybe." 
 
The End.