#anyway the idea of socialites thinking of them as 'bruce and his butler' and butlers thinking of them as 'Alfred and his son' is everything | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

awfully-sadistic · 5 years

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Random Prompt #3

This is not based on any specific prompt... well, perhaps by Dot saying that she likes to take care of people. So here’s my interpretation of it.

“If you have not heard, Master Bruce is bedridden with a cold, but he insists on stalking the streets of Gotham to uphold his responsibilities. No matter how I tie him down, he keeps finding a way out of bed. Locked doors and binds alike, he manages to get the best of me. Frankly, I had no idea what else to do so I called you.”

Alfred Pennyworth was the most competent man Dot has ever known. But he was here, appealing to her nurturing nature for her help. It was humbling and a little surprising, to be honest. She didn’t think anyone could best Alfred when it concerned taking care of the members of his family. The man was ferocious when it came to the well-being of Bruce, the girls, and the boys. And Dot could relate, she would also do anything for her own loved ones and that extended to Bruce and his family as well. And it had for a while. Alfred knew this which led to him contacting her. But still… it was a little surreal that Alfred would put a lot of trust in assisting him with this… delicate matter. She wanted to try her best!

Standing in front of the door that no doubt led to “Master Bruce’s” bedroom, Dot wondered what she’d see on the other side. She didn’t have to wait for long. Alfred turned the knobs and the double doors swept opened to an elegant room that matched the appearance and wealth the Wayne family has boasted for such a long time. And just in time to see Bruce putting on his mask.

“Master Bruce!” Alfred crossed the room immediately and with a tone scolding enough to remind Dot that this was a grown man that Alfred was talking to; not a child. However, it wasn’t enough to reign in her smile. “We’ve already called in Master Dick to patrol the streets tonight. I do not understand why you must be so insistent on going out tonight.” Alfred continued to scold, taking Bruce’s mask off. Underneath the mask, Bruce wasn’t quite pouting, but it was nearly damn close.

“I said I’m fine, Alfred.” Bruce said, eyes on the man that wasn’t as tall as the Dark Knight but still impressive enough to match the level of his eyes. “I don’t feel sick anymore. I think your chicken noodle—” whatever Bruce was saying next was wracked with a cough, a hand coming up just in time and a turn that tried to conceal it. He cleared his throat, straightening up and continued, “I got something stuck in my throat.”

The look on Alfred’s face said he wasn’t buying it. He passed Bruce and placed the Batman helmet, unused, on a nearby dresser that came to his chest. “Anyway, I called Dot in to help take care of you and to keep an eye on you since you seem adamant on disobeying my orders about staying in bed.”

Dot’s presence wasn’t missed. Alfred’s hand swept towards the entrance of his bedroom and Bruce followed the gesture to settle a gaze on the woman standing nearby. As always, her smile was warm if not tinged with politeness. It said she wasn’t quite used to Bruce’s presence yet. The man in question cleared his throat again but Dot wasn’t sure if it was due to an on-coming cough or the fact she caught him acting like a petulant child. Once he realized that Dot had been a witness to his behavior and argument with Alfred—and no doubt having been told about the situation from the aforementioned butler—his back straightened and he crossed the room to sit down on his bed, cape and all, perhaps in an effort to salvage what was left of his reputation. “Good evening, Ms. Dreadful.” He greeted. “That’s quite generous of you to spend your time on taking care of me tonight but I assure you—”

“It’s not necessary?” Dot finished, knowing to expect him to say exactly that as Bruce would always say whenever he was offered help. The man surely liked to do things stubbornly by himself sometimes. A breathy chuckle and a slight incline of her dark head, she continued, “It’s not a problem at all, honestly. Is it true you’ve been giving Alfred a hell of a time despite being sick? If you keep that up, you’re going to have to wait at his bedside to return the favor.”

She couldn’t resist the teasing. The amusement shone on Alfred’s gaze as they both waited for Bruce to recover from Dot’s jab. Instead, he coughed.

“…I admit, I may not be feeling too well at the moment.”

“Uh huh, and where do you think you’re going dressed like that?” Dot asked, gesturing at the dark, boots, and cowl ensemble. Alfred made a noise of approval as he started to move towards the double doors to let himself out.

“I believe Ms. Dreadful has this under control. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll need to help Master Dick on patrol in the Batcave computers tonight. That’s where I’ll be if you need me,” he paused and then stated as an afterthought, “Not that I think you’ll need my assistance.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Dot smiled almost cheerfully. Bruce responded with a more absent-minded reply before turning to Dot once the doors closed.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“It’s not every day you’re this sick. And you never let anyone take care of you.” Bruce was about to reply but Dot was already moving towards the bed and dropped down besides his legs. She looked up and patted the side of his boot. “Come on, lift your leg. I’m going to take off your boots.”

“Not even Alfred takes my boots off.” Bruce said as he perked a brow and through the amused gaze, Dot could see that his face did look a little flush. He really was sick; not that she thought Alfred was lying to her. It just told her how serious it was.

“I’m not Alfred, am I?”

Bruce coughed again but lifted his leg to allow Dot to pull his boot off. “You’re absolutely right about that.”

“I can’t believe you were about to leave like this,” Dot scolded gently once his boots were off. She placed them neatly by the bed and stood up to cross to the dresser where his helmet was resting. “Are your pajamas in here?”

“I hang them up,” he cleared his throat, hand coming up to rub some of the discomfort away. Dot caught the gesture as she turned around. Her brows were knitted as she was about to ask who the hell hangs up their pajamas but instead asked, “Does your throat hurt?”

“I’m fine,” he started to say but paused as Dot gave him a stern look. “enough. It’s just a little sore because of the coughing.”

“Can you change into your pajamas while I make you something warm for your throat?”

“If I say no, is that an invitation to help me into them yourself?”

Dot faltered only slightly and hoped it was enough for him not to notice and stroke his ego for it. Bruce Wayne had the reputation of being a billionaire playboy himself, but she had plenty of practice with Tony Stark when either of them wanted to turn on the charm. She watched the look on Bruce’s face before she pointed out, “You’re so flush, you look like you’re the one who’s blushing.”

It was Bruce’s turn to falter before he ran a hand across his face, “…I really look that bad?”

“Without your mask, I’m sure the villains would have taken pity on you if they saw you looking like this.”

That garnered a response out of Bruce; laughter. There was a shift on the bed from his side before he finally replied, “If you’re going to give me something warm, coffee will do.”

“But that will keep you up…”

“Exactly.”

“Why on earth do you need to be awake for?” she asked, “You’re sick, remember? You should be sleeping.”

He didn’t reply for a moment but that was because he was leaning over to one of his side dressers. He pulled out a sleek little laptop and Dot knew immediately why he would insist on staying up.

“Nope.” She said at once, crossing over to Bruce’s bedside once more and slipping the laptop out of his fingers. Even sitting down, Bruce was taller than she was, so she had to crane her neck up to at least look as serious as she was trying to sound. “No. You are sick. You’re not working.”

“How do you know it’s work related?” he countered with a smart little smile. All it did was squint Dot’s eyes at him, good-naturedly, before she started to put it back.

“We’ll see…” she relented only a little because she was still a sucker for Bruce or Tony’s charming smiles. “For now, you need to change and get into bed. I’ll be back shortly with something for your throat and maybe some cough drops.”

Dot was crossing the huge expanse of the elaborate room when Bruce called, “Make sure you get the honey cough drops… and not the cherry ones.”

Dot was smiling as she pulled the doors open, “Whatever you want, love.”

There was a little bit of hesitation on leaving Bruce alone in his room with half his Batgear on, but something told her that he wouldn’t just leave her on the unspoken promise of being there when she got back. He ought to know better than to ditch her, anyway. It was still a puzzle on trying to crack into the mind of the man known as Bruce Wayne. The man didn’t quite let a lot of emotion pass through, but he surprised her on more than a few occasions by being affectionate and romantic. Despite Bruce’s reputation on being a playboy, it was only fueled when he was single and flirted around but when Bruce Wayne had a girlfriend, there was no question about where his loyalties lay. It was something Dot had to find out for herself instead of relying on second hand information that ran in socialite circles, gossip groups, and tabloids. In fact, a lot of things about Bruce Wayne were exaggerated that it was wild knowing the man versus the man on paper. These were the thoughts that circulated in Dot’s head as she brewed coffee and searched the enormous pantry for honey flavored cough drops.

When she returned to Bruce’s bedroom with a tray of coffee, the coffee pot, and the cough drops, she was genuinely surprised to see that Bruce was indeed in his pajamas and sitting in bed. She knew she should not have been but considering the “horror” stories Alfred was telling her about how Bruce was escaping his room to don the mask and patrol on the streets, half of her expected to return to an empty room. She felt relieved and her shoulders relaxed as she crossed back over to his bedside. Bruce’s back was against the headboard and he was sitting under the blankets but with his laptop in his lap.

“What did I say about using your laptop?”

“That I should not be working.” He paused with his fingers flying over the keys and gave her that charming smile. But this time, Dot didn’t fall for it.

“And are you working?”

“…I may or may not be working on something.”

“I guess you don’t want this coffee.”

Bruce looked surprised, his eyes widening a little to express as such. “I honestly thought you weren’t going to bend on that,” he chuckled before coughing slightly. His hand was always prompt on covering up his coughing, but he was also adamant on using a wet nap to clean his hand before any interaction with Dot, just in case. She knew he didn’t want to pass his cold onto her but honestly, Dot didn’t think she’d mind.

“I bend on certain things,” Dot absently replied as she poured him some coffee in a mug and used the fancy little porcelain jar that held the creamer. Alfred had made coffee for her so many times, she memorized the objects he used to make everything just a little fancier and posh. She didn’t have to, but it was a little bit of indulgence on her end as well.

“You’re going to join me, right?” Bruce asked, watching her steady hands. Dot glanced over as she handed him the mug.

“I wasn’t planning on to,” she admitted a little sheepishly.

“I’d like you to.” Bruce smiled as he eyed Dot for a while. She only laughed but was standing up now, putting the tray on a nearby stand that was meant to hold his breakfast and dinners when he’d have them in his room. Bruce knew the reason for the uneasiness. He’s done his own research on her; it was a lot tougher considering she wasn’t the one in the tabloids but all it took was spending time with each other and he wasn’t called the World’s Best Detective for nothing. Bruce understood what it meant to her on the concept of taking care of other people, that she would often forget about herself. She enjoyed taking care of others, so it threw her off sometimes when she was included. She thought of her own presence as an afterthought sometimes when it came to putting others first. It wasn’t a slight on herself and she wasn’t being too hard on herself, either. She just put 100% of herself into the other person that it consumed her sometimes.

“I mean it,” he added. Dot was fiddling with the honey cough drops now, he could hear the crinkling of the package. It stopped when he had spoken up. “If you don’t get yourself a mug, I’ll go downstairs and get it myself.”

“No! You can’t do that,” Dot protested, turning around. She eyed Bruce sitting in his bed. He was looking back at her expectantly. It wasn’t that she was opposed to drinking coffee, but this wasn’t why she was here. “Did you want your cough drop now or after—”

“I’d like you to share a cup of coffee with me.”

Dot laughed a little, “…I wasn’t going to say no.” But she was hesitant on leaving him just to grab something for herself. “But okay. I’ll be right back.” It perked her up a little to see Bruce smile to brilliantly at her. He was happy about that.

It didn’t take long for Dot to return to the room and by then, Bruce had his laptop to the side. It was still turned on with what looked like graphs and other technical things probably related to his company, Wayne Enterprises.

“I knew you were doing work…” Dot gently scolded as she gestured at the screen.

“Well, I wasn’t going to hide it from you.” Bruce smiled before reaching over for the tray. It hung over the bed on his side and Dot wondered when he had gotten up to move it closer to him. He grabbed the coffee pot and pat the bedside as an invitation for her to sit with him.

Dot hesitated only a little because she was unsure whether it was okay to sit on that fancy looking bed. “Is the coffee helping?” she asked as an attempt to distract herself as she settled next to him.

“Like a miracle,” he smiled, filling up her mug with dark coffee. He placed the pot down and reached for the jar with the creamer. He didn’t ask how much she’d like, already seemingly knowing how sweet she liked it. “Like you said, the coffee is going to keep me up, but I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“Oh, why is that?” Dot was staring down at the cinnamon brown coffee now before raising the mug to her lips and casting her gaze over the rim towards the man seated beside her. He was already staring at her with a soft smile on his face. He still looked flush and Dot felt a little pang of regret about giving into one of his little requests. It was important he got his sleep, after all.

But Bruce surprised her with his next line, “That way I can stay up to spend some time with you.”

“That…” Dot trailed off, swallowing the aftertaste of sweet coffee on her lips. “You’re sick, you should be laying down and not preparing for a night sitting up.”

“But you’re going to stay with me, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am!” Dot said almost a little too passionately. There was no way she was going to leave once she got him tucked into bed. She wanted to make sure he made a swift recovery.

Bruce’s expression softened at her tone. She couldn’t place the meaning of the smile he used but his eyes danced at her like he was laughing. “Then let me stay up with you.”

“That defeats the purpose of taking care of you.”

“You are taking care of me. By letting me stay up with you.”

“Have you ever heard of a little something called bedrest?”

“I’ll eventually get some sleep.”

“That seems like the opposite of what you’re supposed to do when you’re sick. In fact, it sounds like it’d make your cold worse.”

“There’s absolutely no way I can get worse with you taking care of me.”

“You’re not letting me do a very good job of taking care of you if you don’t sleep…”

There was a lapse of silence and Dot had wondered if Bruce did fall asleep “arguing” with her. But he was still staring at her that it took her by surprise. “What?” she asked a little wearily.

“You’re just as tough as Alfred.”

Dot laughed out loud, “I’m taking that as a compliment. He’s really good at what he does.”

Bruce was smiling as well before he reached over to replace his mug on the tray. Dot helped him halfway because he really did look like he was expending a lot of energy doing it. “You really need to get some sleep,” she cooed gently like a mother while stroking his hair back. His forehead was slightly slick with damp and it took her by surprise.

“Christ, Bruce, you’re really burning up.”

“I’m fine—” he started to say before Dot stood up from his bedside. She was already turned on Mama mode. There was no use on arguing with her now. She placed her own mug of coffee on the tray and pushed the entire thing away so it wouldn’t be in her path as she got up and down from his bedside, which she expected she’d be doing all night.

“That’s nonsense,” she muttered to answer his earlier claim. She grabbed the blanket and lifted it, gesturing for him to actually lay his head on the pillow. “because you’re going to sleep right now.”

Bruce must have been trying to act like everything was okay that it only fooled her enough until she touched him. There were no bad intentions on him pretending to be well; there really was a want to stay up with her since she was here. The only reason he stayed at home was because Dot had stepped in and it had nothing to do with being rude if he ditched her. But he couldn’t very well spend time with her if he were sleeping the entire night away. However, at the moment, he had no energy left in him to argue and like a good little boy, he slipped further into bed and rested his head on his pillow just like Dot asked. He felt the sensation of the comforter being pulled over him which he welcomed immediately because it had started to feel cold without them.

“Thanks,” he murmured and then added, “Sorry.”

Dot paused as she tucked him in, a soft smile on her face. “You don’t need to say sorry for anything. This is what Mama does.”

Bruce chuckled, his eyes closing as he just listened to her flutter about his room. Now that the secret was out of the bag about how sick he really was, it was a lot easier to give into the sensation of being coddled and taken care of. It made it easier to drift off to sleep. Occasionally, Bruce would awaken from his fever fueled dreams and see that Dot was seated next to him, reading a book about vampires or replacing a cool cloth on his forehead that helped ease him back to sleep. Perhaps once or twice, he heard the voices of his loved ones coming into the room to check on him and Dot reassure them that he was alright.

“Jason…” Dot slowly scolded, “…If you get too close, you’ll get sick, too.”

“That’s fine. If this is the treatment you give, I’ll gladly take over the old guy’s fever.”

Bruce drifted onto a sleep that was more like a nightmare that concerned a giant Jason chasing him, trying to suck the fever out of him. By the time he opened his eyes again, Jason was gone, and the room was quiet. Darker, too.

“What time is it?” he groggily asked.

Dot blinked, looking up from her book. She placed her bookmark to save her place and placed the book on the nightstand. “It’s late, you should get back to sleep, love.”

“What about you?” Bruce asked. No doubt that sleep sounded good, but it wouldn’t come easy knowing that Dot was going to be spending the entire time watching over him.

“I’m fine.”

Bruce gently smiled, “You sound like me.”

Dot laughed, “No, really. I am. Alfred said he’ll take over once Dick was finished with his last shift and let me get some sleep in one of the guest rooms.” There was a bout of silence before Dot asked, “…Why do you look upset?”

“Do I look upset?” Bruce asked as he shifted onto his back. He was tempted to sit up but felt comfortable as he was despite the temptation to see Dot in a better vantage. He placed his arm over his eyes hoping to hide the disappointment he was obviously broadcasting now.

“You looked like you were pouting before hiding your face from me.”

Bruce’s arm dropped, “…I’m not hiding.”

Dot only laughed. It was like talking to a child, but she understood why; he was sick. There was a lot more vulnerability on display. Dot had the fleeting thought about Bruce’s parents. Was this how he acted when he had gotten sick around them? Was there ever a chance to be sick when his parents were around? Did he act spoiled? Did he try to act tough? She wanted to ask but she knew he should be sleeping. She leaned over and started to adjust the blanket and pillow to tempt him. “Get some sleep, love. The worst of your fever is over. You might even be better by tomorrow.”

Bruce startled her by gently taking her wrist and pulling her over him. “Bruce!” she cried out in surprise as his arms encircled her. He held onto her, burying his nose into her soft curls and closing his eyes.

“I don’t want Alfred to take care of me,” he murmured almost childishly.

Dot had to struggle to even lift herself up a little to ask. “What?”

“Stay with me,” he told her, his voice dropping into a deeper tone that said he wanted to go back to sleep but only if she were in his arms. “Sleep in the same bed with me. No guest rooms.”

There was an almost incredulous chuckle that escaped her mouth; it was breathless just like the hold he had on her. “What…? That’s…”

Well, it wasn’t an unreasonable request. It took her by surprise, that was all. She laid still despite the viselike hold of Bruce’s arms around her back and her middle, clutching onto her like a teddy bear that might have been ripped out of his hands at any moment.

“I don’t see anything wrong with that,” Alfred’s voice came from behind her that Dot’s spine stiffened out of the unexpected intrusion. She couldn’t turn or anything to meet his gaze but by his tone, there was definitely amusement there. “I’m sure Master Bruce would appreciate it. It already seems that he does a great deal.”

Dot wanted to groan; she didn’t take too well at being embarrassed because it didn’t happen to her that often. Not that this situation was mortifying. She was just squirmish and felt like laughing herself nervously out of the room.

“I’ll… just need to get my pj’s…”

“Why not wear one of Master Wayne’s shirts?” Alfred asked, moving to the closet.

“Good idea, Alfred.” Bruce muttered against Dot’s hair. His eyes were still closed, but he wasn’t drowsy enough to be half-coherent and understanding of the situation. “She doesn’t wear pajama bottoms to bed, so that shouldn’t matter.”

Dot almost gaped and squirmed to get out of his grasp but she wasn’t going anywhere, “H-How do you know that?!”

Alfred chuckled, holding out a spare shirt that looked like it costs someone’s tuition. “They don’t call him the world’s greatest detective for nothing.”

The transition from out of Bruce’s grip to bed shouldn’t have been too long but there was a long while of trying to convince Bruce to let Dot go so she could change in the connecting bathroom. When all was said and done, the two laid in bed; Bruce still insisted on holding Dot close. She wouldn’t have guessed he was incredibly clingy when he was sick, but it was something she didn’t mind whatsoever. It was endearing and tugged at her heartstrings in a way that wanted to spoil him silly because of it.

When Dot was sure Bruce was asleep, he startled her by quietly admitting, “I think I’m going to need another day to recover.”

Dot laughed breathlessly, quietly, snuggling into his embrace before finally yawning. “…Take all the time you need.”

#{{ original drabbles: on the spot #{{ note: im actually pretty okay with this

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theartofdreaming1 · 5 years

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Partners - Part 6: Charity Ball

Rating: T

Pairing: DickBabs

Summary: The big day has arrived: Barbara and Dick meet up at Wayne Manor for the annual Wayne Charity Ball!

Read this chapter at AO3 or start from the beginning; read on my blog: chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5.

“Oh… wow.”

It was the day of Bruce Wayne’s charity ball and Barbara had just gotten out of her car, taking in the impressive exterior of Wayne Manor.

It certainly was… big. The warm light that shone through the windows and the animated chatter and soft classical music sounding from the inside at least made the mansion appear a little friendlier, although all the dignified splendor that exuded from the building didn’t help in making the whole ordeal seem any less intimidating to Barbara.

Oh well.

Barbara swapped the comfortable flats she had worn for driving with a pair of less comfortable high heels. She then made sure she had actually locked the car, took a deep breath and made her way across the driveway and up the steps leading to the wood-paneled main doors.

Standing right before the entrance, Barbara nervously smoothed out an invisible crease in her midnight blue dress. It had been some time since she last had accompanied her father to one of these functions. She had forgotten how nerve-wracking these kind of events could be.

Oh well...

Barbara sternly reminded herself that this evening was supposed to be fun, and not cause for her to fret even more than she was already doing anyway, with her mysterious letter and… - Barbara stopped herself from continuing that thought; she had firmly resolved not to think about this subject for at least tonight - this was a night for Dick and her to just be, have fun, and see where that would lead them.

Now mentally prepared for the evening, Barbara squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and entered the Manor purposefully.

Another ‘Oh… wow,’ crossed her mind again.

The entrance hall of Wayne Manor could only be described as grand: The floor was made of polished marble, with an expensive-looking persian rug on display in the center of the room. The ornately carved ceiling was carried by equally beautifully crafted wooden pillars, with a big crystal chandelier hanging from it - Barbara briefly wondered if this was the chandelier Dick had told her about during their first real talk at Hogan’s. To top it all of, works of art were displayed throughout the entire room - not in a showy way, but in a way that showed them to their advantage, in tasteful presentation.

It was certainly enough to leave a strong impression on Barbara.

Still taking in the Manor’s interior design, Barbara’s admiration was cut short by someone approaching her: “Miss Barbara! How delightful to see you again.”

Barbara snapped out of her reverie, turning to the person who just had addressed her - which turned out to be Alfred.

A bright smile lit up her face as she said cheerfully: “Alfred, hello! Great to see you again!”

Barbara sometimes was still astounded by the big difference clothing could have on a person’s appearance: now that he was dressed in the traditional butler’s uniform, Alfred looked like the very epitome of the dignified butler one would expect working for one of the richest people in the country, rather than the kind and humorous grandfatherly figure she had met at Dick’s apartment only a few weeks ago, when he had simply been wearing some more informal slacks and a button-down shirt.

Still, one look into the kind expression on his face was enough to let Barbara know that the “distinguished butler”- Alfred before her now was the same Alfred she had been introduced to in a much simpler setting.

With that in mind, Barbara decided to pick up where they had left off:

“I’m sure you will be relieved to know that Dick’s cooking certainly did the “Alfred Special” justice - it was absolutely delicious.”

The butler received the compliment with a humble nod: ”Why, thank you, Miss Barbara; Master Dick had told me that the response to my recipe had been favorable, but it’s most pleasing to hear so from yourself.”

Barbara smiled, letting her eyes wander across the hall, the doorway arch on the left-hand side allowing her to catch a glimpse of the enormous crowd of people that were entertaining themselves tonight at the Manor as well.

At that thought, Barbara’s expression grew a little hesitant; those were a lot of people in a very big house...

“Um, Alfred?” the redhead asked sheepishly, “Do you happen to have any idea where I might find Dick?”

Not batting an eye, the butler simply remarked calmly: “I am confident Master Dick will be here any minute now-”

“Hey Babs!”

As if on cue, Dick had stepped into the hall, a hand lifted in greeting, before he headed toward Alfred and Barbara.

“Your arrival has been awaited most eagerly, I might add,” the butler informed Barbara in a low voice, the crinkles around his eyes relaying the older man’s amusement. Before Barbara could even react to his comment, Alfred had already stepped away to greet the next slew of guests entering the Manor.

By then, Dick had made his way to her, still standing a little farther away than he usually would have; Barbara realized somewhat nervously that Dick had stopped closing the distance between them because he was taking in her appearance…

Barbara suppressed the urge to smooth out another non-existent wrinkle in her dress.

“Wow,” Dick said finally, haltingly, sounding like he was nervously fumbling for words, “you look…amazing.”

All of a sudden, Barbara was very pleased with herself for choosing the dress she was wearing tonight - it was simple, but elegant, with a mermaid cut, off shoulder straps and sweetheart neckline; its midnight blue color made for a beautiful contrast to her vibrant red hair that she had styled to one side, causing it to fall over her left shoulder in gentle waves.

“Thanks,” Barbara said a little bashfully, “you don’t look bad yourself.”

That was obviously an understatement on Barbara’s part: there was a reason Gotham City’s tabloids used the term “Pretty Boy” synonymously for “Richie Grayson”; Dick was never hard on the eyes, but especially tonight in his (undoubtedly expensive) well-cut tuxedo, accentuated with a midnight blue cummerbund and bow tie that brought out his beautiful dark blue eyes...oof. There was no denying that her partner was exceptionally handsome.

“I try,” Dick said humbly, before gallantly offering his arm to her.

Barbara accepted his gesture, linking their arms and letting Dick lead her towards the big ballroom.

While doing so, they passed underneath the big crystal chandelier.

Barbara couldn’t help her cheeky remark:

“So, I see you have given up on hanging from the chandelier while the hors d'oeuvres are being served, huh?”

Dick responded with a wide smirk, giving a casual, one-armed shrug: “Well… I kinda stopped doing that once I crashed the original one.”

Barbara almost tripped over the hem of her dress.

“What?!”

“Yeah… turns out that chandeliers are not really built for eleven-year old acrobats to practice their skills on them… Bruce had a trapeze installed in the gym afterwards.”

Dick grinned impishly at that recollection, while Barbara could only shake her head.

“You‘re unbelievable.”

The elegance of Wayne Manor’s entrance hall was nothing in comparison to its ballroom. Barbara was trying really hard not to let her awe show, but she knew that she couldn’t fool Dick, especially when he commented the room with an amused, nonchalant “Pretty spiffy, huh?”

Feeling the need to tease her smug partner, Barbara only gave a shrug, pretending to feel indifferent to all this excitement around her:

“It’s alright, I guess.”

The ghost of a grin flit across Dick’s face before he nodded understandingly. He leaned closer to her, whispering as if he was revealing a big, well-guarded secret:

“Oh, you should see it without all the people in it - it’s an excellent room for sock surfing.”

Barbara barely managed to suppress a snort.

“Now, that would have been impressive,” she agreed in a fake pretentious voice, before vaguely gesturing towards the dignified hall, which was bustling with members of Gotham’s high society,”unlike this run-off-the-mill, fancily decorated room filled with Gotham’s most influential people, buffet and live music… but I suppose this will have to do.”

Dick laughed.

“Glad to hear that you are willing to make do with the little we have to offer.”

Barbara grinned, feeling a lot more relaxed now after goofing around with Dick.

“Maybe later I could give you a proper tour of the house, which would also include some very sock surfable hallways, I might add,” Dick said, a humorous twinkle in his eye, before suggesting more earnestly: “But how about we just mingle for now? There are some people I’d like you to meet.”

Barbara smiled, gently squeezing Dick’s arm.

“Lead the way.”

They spent some time talking to the other guests, some of which had been delightful and intriguing new acquaintances, like Wayne Enterprises’ CEO Lucius Fox. Others had been people Barbara was already familiar with from other functions she’d attended (such as Leslie Thompkins, a doctor running the free Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic in Park Row), as well as plenty of young socialite ladies who felt it their duty to chat with the host’s son (while not-so-subtly inquiring after the whereabout of his adopted father and host of the evening).

After socialising like this for a while, they had now decided to stop by the buffet before hitting the dance floor (“You wouldn’t want to miss out on the mushroom puffs, trust me”, Dick had assured Barbara, while expertly weaving through the crowd, with Babs trailing after him).

They had almost arrived at their destination when someone near the buffet table caught Dick’s eye - Barbara observed with surprise Dick’s face brighten with delight, all thoughts of mushroom puffs immediately whisked away.

“Ooh, there is someone I need to introduce you to,” he said to Barbara excitedly, before calling that special someone’s attention to them:

“Hey, Tim!”

Tim turned out to be a dark-haired teen of small-to-medium height, who Barbara pegged to be around fifteen years old. He’d looked a little miserable in his tuxedo, standing all by himself to the side of the buffet - that is, until he noticed Dick and a wide, genuine smile spread across his face.

“Tim’s like my honorary little brother,” Dick explained to Barbara, while they were heading towards the teen,”he’d spend his time here at the Manor whenever his dad was on a business trip, which was pretty often.”

Barbara observed the guys exchange joyful greetings, and with their blue eyes, black hair and just overall unaffected camaraderie displayed on both sides, Barbara wouldn’t have doubted Dick if he had told her that Tim was his biological brother.

When Dick introduced her to the teen, Barbara noticed that Tim acted a lot more nervously and shyly towards herself at first. She was pretty sure Dick had taken notice of that as well; Barbara could tell that he was putting an effort into keeping their conversation as easy-going and natural as he could to make Tim feel more comfortable:

“So, Tim... With this fancy shindig going on,” Dick made an indistinct gesture towards the crowd behind him, “I wouldn’t have expected you to be here tonight!”

“Yeah… Dad and Dana thought it would be good if I left my room for a while - but you know that I’m always happy to drop in… I’m just not really keen on attending these parties usually,” Tim professed sheepishly to Barbara.

The redhead smiled: “I’m in good company, then - I haven’t been at one of these functions in years.”

“Well, out of all the functions one could attend, you have definitely picked the best one,” Tim assured Barbara,“at least the people that throw this party are pretty okay-” (“I’m so flattered,” Dick commented amusedly) “-plus, the food is always great.”

Barbara could barely suppress a snort.

“So I keep hearing.”

Dick looked a little sheepish.

“Well, how about we’ll get Babs here over to the wonderful buffet I kept telling her about when I coaxed her into coming, grab some food and prove that I’m a man of my word, huh? And you’ve got to tell me how you are liking Brentwood Academy so far, Tim!”

Tim threw a discreet look in Barbara’s direction, trying to make sure Barbara was fine with that plan; he obviously didn’t mean to intrude on her and Dick’s togetherness.

But Barbara simply gave her best friendly smile and nodded encouragingly; she was genuinely interested in knowing more about Dick’s honorary little brother (as long as she could also eat something in the meantime).

Tim seemed to have come to the conclusion that Barbara truly didn’t mind him tagging along for a while and finally gave a shy smile.

“Sounds good,” he said, before giving her a piece of advice that caused both Dick and Barbara to chuckle: “If you want something really good, you should try the mushroom puffs - they are amazing.”

Dick, Barbara and Tim spent their time very enjoyably, talking about anything and everything (as it turned out, Tim was very interested in and knowledgeable about all things tech-related, especially regarding computers, and a good deal of the conversation consisted simply of Barbara and Tim talking about the latest IT developments).

A few times while they had been busy chatting, Barbara could have sworn that she had seen the party’s host himself making his way over to them; however, he seemed to disappear whenever a swarm of young and middle-aged ladies alike appeared in Barbara’s field of vision.

The redhead was starting to wonder if she had simply imagined this bizarre routine, until one horde of these eager female guests swarmed Dick in their zealous attempt to find out the whereabouts of his adoptive father. While Dick warded off the throng of women by pointing them in one direction of the ballroom, Barbara could clearly observe the object of their desire, Bruce Wayne, hastily duck into an adjoining room on the exact opposite side of the room.

She quickly took a sip of her drink to conceal her grin. While this burlesque was taking place, Barbara made the mistake of catching Tim’s eye in the process - both of them had to break eye contact immediately to stop themselves from breaking out laughing - or, in Barbara’s case, to stop herself from choking on her drink.

She waited patiently until the ladies were way out of earshot, then addressed Dick amusedly:

“You two practice this routine very often? The misdirection?”

Her partner ducked his head shyly, looking like an 8-year-old who got caught with his hands in the cookie jar, “only in self-defense.”

Barbara shot another glance at the flock of gaggling women marching toward the other end of the room: “Fair.”

“You must excuse this foolish ruse,” a deep, unfamiliar voice sounded close to Barbara, startling her. When she turned back to Tim and Dick, she could see that the much sought-after host of the event had finally joined their group, now that the coast was clear. Bruce Wayne appeared to have mastered that same ability of silently sneaking up on people that Dick also possessed - which was pretty impressive considering his tall, broad-shouldered frame.

In direct contrast to his imposing figure was the little bashful smile displayed on his face,”I wanted to meet up with you without raising a ruckus.”

“Not an easy task, that’s for sure,” Dick commented jokingly, “it looks like Miss Vreeland came here with the firm intention of spearheading a manhunt… but here you are: Bruce, please meet Babs.”

And just like that, Barbara was shaking hands with the Bruce Wayne, one of the most influential people in Gotham, who told her most jovially how pleased he was to finally meet her.

“Dick has told us so much about you - only good things, I can assure you,” Bruce said, smiling warmly at her.

Barbara noticed Dick shuffling his feet awkwardly in response, while Tim was smirking gleefully.

“Considering how Blüdhaven is such a tough place - even in comparison to Gotham -, it’s just such a relief to know that Dick has someone who has his back out in the field.”

Barbara couldn’t help but smile at Bruce’s concern; it reminded her a lot of her father fretting over her safety.

“I know for a fact that my father shares these sentiments; with regard to Dick, of course,” Barbara clarified, before continuing: “I think both Dick and I have gotten very lucky in that regard - I’m certainly very glad to be partnered up with him,” she admitted, earning herself a wide, heartfelt smile from Dick.

“Speaking of the Commissioner, I just realized that I have yet to have the pleasure of encountering him tonight,” Bruce observed suddenly, his eyes quickly scanning the room in search of James Gordon.

“Oh, I’m afraid my father and Sarah asked me to excuse them for not coming - I think there was some business at the precinct that required their attention.”

Barbara wisely neglected to mention that this ‘business’ at the precinct had been regarded as a most welcome distraction by her father - even after all his years as the police commissioner of Gotham and being invited to the city’s most important official parties and galas, Jim Gordon’s dread of having to attend any of them hadn’t lessened one bit.

Bruce’s face fell as he let out a little sigh.

“What a shame! I very much enjoy talking to the Commissioner,” he said to Barbara, before adding in a low voice: “He offers a much more substantial conversation than most other guests.”

From the dejected look on his face Barbara could tell that he truly regretted her father’s absence.

Dick only laughed at his adoptive father’s dramatic antics: “Now come, Bruce, I don’t think you will be in want of an entertaining conversational partner - I’m pretty sure I saw Selina Kyle just now, talking with Leslie.”

Dick’s mischievous comment left quite the mark: To her surprise (and the boys’ amusement), Barbara observed the Bruce Wayne lower his gaze bashfully like a schoolboy, his cheeks taking on a slight variation of pink.

Tim grinned at Barbara, nodding sagely: “Every time.”

But before any of them could say anything else, a penetrating, shrill voice reached their ears:

“Ah, Brucie, there you are!”

Bruce tensed, looking extremely uncomfortable.

“If you’ll excuse me…,” he said apologetically to Barbara and the boys, before turning around to accept his fate.

Then, all of a sudden, Barbara observed how his whole demeanor changed, his posture relaxed, and a charming smile (that Barbara now could easily discern as fake) plastered on his face.

“Ladies,” he effusively greeted the group of females (led by Veronica Vreeland), earning him some excited giggles.

Barbara raised her eyebrows at this transformation.

“It still weirds me out when he does that,” Tim said, having noticed Barbara’s expression.

“It’s a little bizarre,” Dick agreed, by now already used to the strange ways of his adoptive father.

Barbara (and Tim) stared at Dick.

“... Okay, maybe a lot.”

Soon after Bruce had left their little group, Tim extricated himself as well, effectively turning their terrific trio back into the original dynamite duo. Dick and Babs consequently resumed their previous plan of joining the other couples on the dance floor, and ended up having a lot fun (at this point, Barbara wasn’t in the least fazed to find out that Dick was also an absolutely splendid dancing partner - was there anything he couldn’t do?).

They had been dancing for quite some time, not yet out of breath, but cheeks already slightly flushed, when Barbara became aware of that strange, unpleasant prickle at the nape of her neck. Familiar with this sensation and what it usually meant, she let her gaze stray from Dick’s face and let it shortly wander about the crowded room, before making eye contact with her partner again:

“Why do I have the feeling that we’re being watched?”

Dick grinned amusedly: “Well, I’m certain that we are cutting quite the rug here if I may say so. Which is definitely worth watching -,” Barbara rolled her eyes good-humoredly, “- but, as usual, your instincts are actually quite on the money-” with that, Dick artfully dipped her, a move that let her take notice of a woman with strawberry blonde hair and sharp eyes standing a little behind Barbara’s current position, “Vicki Vale seems to have taken quite the interest in us.”

Barbara frowned. She didn’t like the idea of being observed by the famous Gazette journalist, who wasn’t above reporting for the tabloids if she chose so.

Dick, who was studying Barbara’s face intently, was quick on the uptake and immediately asked Barbara in a low voice: “Wanna skip the rest of the event?”

The redhead couldn’t help but smile; her partner was almost ridiculously good at reading her moods.

Her smile turned into a cheeky smirk: “Is that offer for a private tour to all the best sock sliding places in Wayne Manor still standing?”

Dick grinned.

“Of course it is.”

“Then let’s get out of here.”

Once they had discreetly left the ballroom (with the help of Tim, who had distracted Vicki Vale long enough for Dick and Barbara to slip by the eagle-eyed reporter undetected), Dick began their little tour by leading Barbara to the unusually busy kitchen to swipe some cookies from Alfred’s “hidden” cookie jar.

“Provisions for the road,” Dick justified his actions with a grin, handing Barbara some of the most delicious cookies she’d ever eaten in her life.

The next stop on their itinerary was the absolutely breathtaking library of the Manor: this beautiful sight of rows and rows of bookshelves stocked with the most gorgeous, leather-bound editions of all kinds of genres was nearly enough to make Barbara cry; Dick was close to having to forcefully drag her away from this room so they could resume their tour.

“You asked for sock surfable hallways and you shall get sock surfable hallways,” he explained cheerfully, while leading Barbara back to the magnificent entrance hall, and up the grand staircase.

Reaching the top of the stairs revealed one ridiculously long hallway that probably connected up to fifteen different rooms.

“Tadaa,” Dick said, grinning, while making a theatrical gesture, “the second best place for sock surfing in the house - apart from the empty ballroom, that is.”

“That certainly is a hallway perfect for sock surfing,” Barbara agreed, grinning as well, “consider me impressed.”

Dick’s grin went from triumphant to goofy:

“Now, for a demonstration…”

Barbara watched Dick amusedly as he quickly undid his shoelaces and toed off his shiny dress shoes, pushing them to the side. He walked down the hallway a little further, to have more of a running start, before gleefully sliding the full length of the hallway, just coming to a halt right in front of the door on the end of the floor.

Barbara giggled.

Dick grinned: “Your turn.”

Barbara slipped out of her shoes and slightly lifted the hem of her dress to reveal her bare, sockless feet: “I’m afraid I’ve gotta pass on this one.”

“Nonsense,” Dick disagreed, carefully walking up to her, ”you’ve come all this way - I’ll borrow you some of mine; come on!”

And with that, he picked up his shoes with one hand and took Barbara’s hand with his other and led her towards the door on the opposite end of the hallway.

“Are you ready to enter the holy of holies?” Dick asked Barbara dramatically, pausing at his childhood bedroom door for effect.

“But you’ve already shown me the library…?” Barbara replied teasingly.

Dick pretended to give her a scandalized look, then opened the door.

Dick’s room turned out to be of moderate size, which surprised Barbara a little, after seeing so many of the enormous rooms Wayne Manor had to offer (at least Dick’s room seemed to have its own balcony, which was still a fancy feature in its own right). The walls were of a beautiful, calm blue and adorned with three posters: one movie poster of the Errol Flynn Robin Hood movie, one poster of the Haly Bros. Circus and another poster of the Flying Graysons (this one hung right above the bed).

The room was furnished with a queen-sized bed, a spacious desk, multiple shelves filled with lots of books, clutter, pictures of friends and family and a couple of trophies, a fluffy rug, and a dresser, which Dick headed for to get Barbara a pair of socks.

In the meanwhile, Barbara studied the contents of the shelves with utmost interest.

She giggled.

“Nice mathlete trophy,” she said in a teasing voice, “I hadn’t expected you to be that much of a nerd.”

Dick playfully chucked the rolled-up pair of socks he had picked out at Barbara. She caught it easily with one hand.

“It’s not like I’m the only nerd in this room,” he pointed out amusedly, winking at her.

Barbara grinned: “Touché.”

She put her high heels down next to the bed before she sat down on it to put on the socks. They were wonderfully soft.

“Besides, it’s not like I have been much of a beacon of exemplariness all the time,” Dick said chattily, while opening the balcony door.

He stepped over the threshold and pointed at the tallest tree nearby; Barbara could see that it had one branch hanging very close to the balcony railing: “I’d occasionally sneak out that way.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Barbara clicked her tongue admonishingly, while getting up to join Dick on the balcony. She peered over the balustrade: it was still quite some way down that branch; it would have required quite the gymnastics expertise to reach the ground safely from that height.

“You can take the boy out of the circus…,” Barbara and Dick found themselves saying at the same time, causing them to trail off and burst into laughter.

“So,” Barbara started again, once their laughs had subsided, “how many times does “occasionally sneaking out” actually encompass?”

“Two,” Dick admitted sheepishly, making Barbara giggle again, “and I got caught by Bruce one of those times - my punishment was to wash his cars; and please take notice of the plural here, for he has plenty of vintage cars in his garage, therefore making this quite the task… A very effective deterrent, though.”

“The end of a very short bad boy career,” Barbara pointed out, making Dick chuckle.

Over the course of their conversation, the two of them had assumed more relaxed postures, and were now leaning forward with their arms propped up against the balustrade, nearly touching. A sudden quietness had settled over them, and Dick and Barbara found themselves sharing this serene moment, doing nothing but overlook the vast grounds of the Manor.

The evening air was still pretty chilly, it being only early March, although tonight was special as in lacking that crisp coldness from the nights before: another sign that spring was just around the corner. There was not a single cloud to be seen and due to the remoteness of Wayne Manor, one could actually see the stars twinkling in the sky, making for a truly beautiful view.

Despite it being a more mild night than usual, Barbara couldn’t help but shiver from the cold.

Dick shifted and turned to Barbara, noticing the goosebumps on her bare arms.

“Maybe we should head back in…” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Barbara nodded.

“Yeah…”

Neither of them made a move to get back inside.

Then, slowly, as if there was an invisible force pulling her closer, Barbara could feel herself gravitating towards Dick, wanting, needing, to close whatever gap between them remained: her fists soon found the lapels of Dick’s tux jacket and his hands found their way to her hips, resting gently on them, spreading their warmth through the thin fabric of her dress… And when their lips met, Barbara could feel something fluttering inside her stomach and -

there was something else, something heavy. A something that made Barbara break away from that kiss, from that warmth, her eyes trained firmly on the ground.

She shuddered from the cold.

“There is something I’ve got to tell you first.”

Notes:

"Batman & Mr. Freeze: Subzero" : This chapter has been mainly influenced by the party scene in this animated movie: Veronica Vreeland and her flock of ladies are from it, for example. There is a really cute DickBabs scene on a balcony in it and the dress Babs is wearing is also borrowed from this movie.)

Batman: Dark Victory #9: Dick is shown to have climbed the chandelier; Alfred is worried that he (and the chandelier) are going to fall

Batman #54: Dick is shown to have broken the chandelier while trying to "fly" again

Gotham Gazette: Batman Alive? #1: In this issue, Vicki Vale notices how Dick and Babs are "exuding hot, unspoken tiger heat" which puts Vicki Vale on the track of figuring out the Batfam's secret identities actually

The Mathlete trophy is a nod to the episode "Schooled" from Young Justice, which shows a picture of Dick holding a mathlete trophy

Dick sneaking out of the Manor by climbing down a tree is a nod to the BTAS episode "Robin's Reckoning" and just in general, Dick has been shown to have snuck out the Manor/home in both Robin Annual #4 and Batman: Dark Victory

Dick having to wash Bruce's car is a nod to the Batman episode "The Breakout", in which Dick and Babs joke around/complain that Batman doesn't assign them really challenging cases, but would rather have them wash the Batmobile as if the fate of Gotham depended on it ^^

#dickbabs fanfiction #I write sometimes #dick grayson #barbara gordon #dickbabs #alfred pennyworth #tim drake #bruce wayne #my fics: Partners

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and-the-nerding-goes-on · 7 years

Text

A Halloween Gala

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, small fire

Word Count: 2174

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Prompt: Jason attends a Wayne Gala for Halloween only to find a special red surprise in attendance.

________________________________________________________________

Jason stepped into his room from the bathroom, steam from his shower wafting through the doorway as he rubbed away the last aches of last night’s patrol. A box was left on his bed with a note in graceful blue handwriting: ‘You never picked a costume.’ Rolling his eyes, Jason removed the top of what was obviously Dick’s choice of his costume. A firefighter’s uniform with loose fit bottoms and only suspenders for a top with matching wrist cuffs. He glanced at himself in the mirror after putting it on and rolled his eyes, grumbling about Dick making him look like a slutty chicken.

All dressed and ready, Jason headed down to the party that had already been going for about an hour or so. He scanned the room to see many dressed in their own bat costume, chuckling at all the slutty nightwing costumes. Immediately he was swarmed by daughters of socialites that had attended, all draping themselves on him like laundry on a drying rack dressed in slutty costumes. He spotted Alfred and rolled his eyes, earning the butler’s knowing smirk and a small chuckle. Just as he was going to resign to not having a good time, he spotted a costume he thought he’d never see here out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he saw a sexy homemade red hood costume: short cut jacket and tight black booty shorts made of latex with only a red domino mask under the hood on none other than [F/N] [L/N].

Jason met [F/N] by chance on patrol, crashing through their apartment window when he nearly fell asleep while grappling across rooftops. [He/she] has been calmer than anyone would expect, giving him space and asking if he needed any medical attention. They even let him crash at their place for the night, forgiving him for the window and offering to make him something to eat before they went to bed. [F/N] was short but had more attitude and fire in them then he thought possible when they wanted it there, which is part of what kept drawing him back over and over. He was catching feelings, and no matter how much he told himself it was a bad idea he just couldn’t shake them this time. Unfortunately, they had no clue what his identity was.

Jay shook off the girls around him and made his way over to a better spot to observe [him/her], leaning against a cocktail table and drinking in their appearance. His teeth worried at his lower lip, eyes drifting up their body from their heavy black boots to the deliciously curved hips that swayed to the music. A shameless smirk made its way onto his face as his eyes kept traveling up until they met with [F/N]’s gaze burning through him. He blushed, hand shooting over his mouth as he turned away and tried to play it cool.

He couldn’t believe he’d dropped his guard that much, nor could his siblings that noticed how focused he was on the red hoodie. Dick smirked, making his way over to his now tense brother and placing a firm hand on his shoulder as he stood beside him.

“Got a little carried away with the oogling, huh, Jay?” he teased, expression wrought with mischief. Dick chuckled as Jason glared at him, winking in reply before Jay went to get a drink at the bar. He knew who was wearing the Red Hood costume, had even invited them with a “wild card” invitation himself. It wasn’t hard to find out who kept occupying Jason’s free time when he visited [F/N] practically every night before heading home from patrol. So, he took the liberty of inviting them to the party, hoping to push his little brother to actually try and date someone he liked for once, rather than the girls Bruce thought might look good for the family image. He meant well, but Bruce didn’t exactly get why that wasn’t the best idea.

[F/N] watched the second oldest Wayne closely after catching him staring at their ass with eyes that made their stomach flip. He was gorgeous, costume hanging low on his hips and lower lip red from being bitten as he practically undressed [F/N] with his eyes. As he made his way to the bar they decided to follow, hoping he wasn’t sizing them up for nothing.

They ordered a soda, remembering they had to drive home later, and stood by Jason. There was a heat in the air about him, reminded them of Red Hood and how intense he could be sometimes. Jay tried to stay calm but couldn’t help fidgeting a bit as [F/N] came over, trying to think of something to say.

“Hello stranger, care for a drink? I’m Jason Todd-Wayne,” he said, offering one of the charming smiles he used so often as these parties.

“[F/N] [L/N], it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“So, you’re into Red Hood, huh?” he croaked out, avoiding eye contact.

“Yeah,” [F/N] replied, “He may be darker than the others, but he really does want to help the city. Seems to have a lot of intelligence to be able to balance all the baddies around town.Pretty hot, too.”

Jason nearly choked on his drink, trying to cover it up and failing miserably. His ears began to tint red when he looked back at [F/N]. [He/She] blushed realizing what they said, but chuckled anyway. It was adorable to see a Wayne lose some of their composure, especially as his older brother was creeping up on his other side. There was no way Jason would hear the end of this afterward.

Dick carefully reached over to grab a drink from behind the bar and used a small lighter to catch Jason’s cuff with the flame. Thankfully Jason too was distracted by [F/N] and whatever they had said to notice. The small scorching began to trail smoke up from Jason’s wrist when Dick scurried away as quietly as possible.

“Um, you’re kind of on fire,” [F/N] told him, looking at the trail of smoke.

Jason scoffed, “Okay, ha ha, firefighter costume. Got some nice guns there yourself, Hood.” He winked and moved to pick up his glass, accidentally letting some of the smoldering fabric drop into the alcohol. Immediately the boy blunder realized the flames that were approaching his face as he went to take a drink and he dropped it, effectively shattering the glass and spreading the fire through the remnants of spilled drinks across the bar.

[F/N] and Jason both rushed to find water or a fire extinguisher, but [F/N] beat him to it. [He/She] put out the fire, earning a small applause from the party guests. Jason rubbed the back of his neck, giving [F/N] an apologetic look for being so dense. Across the room, Dick tried to stifle his laughter with the other Wayne children, who had filmed the entire predicament. Bruce was shaking his head, face in his hands as he lamented to Alfred on how his child was screwing up. The butler, in turn, patted him on the back and assured him that, “Master Jason doesn’t seem to have ‘screwed up’ too badly,” turning Bruce’s face back to his second eldest.

“Wow, I uh, guess I’m a really bad firefighter, huh?” Jay chuckled, removing the burnt cuff and inspecting his now burnt wrist.

“Good thing Red Hood is such a hero, huh? Here, let me look at that,” [F/N] said, checking over Jason’s wrist. They grabbed a towel from behind the bar and wrapped some ice in it before resting it on his burn. Jason watched as they moved, eyes wandering their figure again as they cared for his small injury.

“I believe I can help with that,” chimed in a smooth, warm voice. Alfred was hovering near Jason, giving him a stare icy enough to freeze the room. He took one of Jason’s suspenders in hand and dragged him backwards to a room deeper in the manor. The boy was far more helpless than he had thought and needed a good scolding for being so shameless with his eyes.

While the scarily strong Butler dragged Jason away, [F/N] decided to go back to dancing. While moving to the middle of the dancers, [he/she] ran into Dick Grayson-Wayne who immediately grabbed them and pulled them into a dance. [F/N] took a second to look at his costume and realized that despite being tied into a crop top, he looked to be in an actual police officer’s uniform. Dick was quite enthusiastic about making sure the Red Hood got plenty of eyes trained on them, the bubbly atmosphere around him making them sing along to the music.

As the music began to slow down they moved to grab a drink together. [F/N] was glad to get to a cooler area, the heat emanating off of Dick combined with how much they moved while they danced had almost broken a sweat on [him/her].

“You sure are the dancer, Hood. I don’t believe I ever introduced myself, I’m Richard Grayson-Wayne, but you can call me Dick,” the acrobat said, extending his hand with a bright welcoming smile.

“[F/N] [L/N]. It’s nice to meet you, Dick,” they said, taking his hand. Dick turned their hand and quickly bent to place a light kiss on [his/her] knuckles, winking as he returned to his poised stance. He earned an adorable flush across [F/N]’s cheeks, [his/her] smile widening with a soft giggle that seemed to bounce across the room.

Jason was just returning to the party with a bandaged wrist and damaged pride after Alfred’s scolding when he noticed Damian was actually in attendance. He crossed over to the little bat and tugged at his cheesy vampire cape with a quizzical look. He didn’t take Damian for the cheesy type.

“Tt, hands off, Todd. It’s bad enough you and our eldest brother are showing such shameful displays towards that Red Hood, you don’t need to mess up my costume as well as yours,” he said, walking off to see where his animals had retreated to.

“Dick? What did he-”

Jason turned and saw Dick standing with [F/N], moving to lightly drag his fingertips across their hand as they laughed at whatever he was saying. He ran his hands through his hair to help tousle it like he always did when talking to the floozies the socialites brought and winked at whatever [F/N]’s reply was. Jay made a beeline for them, making sure to avoid bumping into anyone so he might be able to hear what his brother was saying.

“Oh come on, try it once! Just a few minutes in the den, I promise. ,” Dick pleaded, slipping his hand under [F/N]’s as he stepped closer, the pad of his thumb slowly rubbing circles into the back of their hand.

Suddenly a hand shot by [F/N]’s side and yanked them away through the dance floor, leaving Dick with a slightly heartbroken face as his younger brother pulled them away. At the very least he had gotten Jason jealous enough to actually act, maybe he’d be smart with this opportunity. Jay pulled [F/N] to a more isolated part of the room, grumbling to himself the entire time.

“Woah, hey! What do you think you’re doing? That was rude!”

[F/N] pulled away from Jay’s grip and crossed their arms, jaw tense. He spun around and sighed, dropping his shoulders as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just...You don’t wanna do anything with him. Trust me,” he said in a low, gravely voice, “he doesn’t exactly stick to one person for very long.”

[F/N] scoffed, giving Jason a mischievous look. “Really? And why would you care about that, Mr. I-set-bars-on-fire?” [He/She] nudged at his arm and chuckled, raising an eyebrow as they awaited his response. Jay sighed, trying to avoid looking at [F/N] but once they realized this they made every move to block his line of sight.

“Damn, you’re really not gonna let me out of this, are you?” Jay said, stepping closer to [F/N] and pressing lightly on their shoulder until they moved back against a wall. His eyes practically melted through [F/N] as he rested his arm above their head to lean down and talk face to face with them. “Why don’t you let me apologize for this then? And for the trouble at the bar too?”

[F/N] pressed against the wall, lips curling into a smile that made Jason’s knees weak for a moment. “Dinner, then? How about tomorrow, meet up at batburger at 7?”

Jay leaned a bit closer, practically hiding the short Red Hood from the party. “I was thinking something...a little sooner than that. What do you say Hood?”

#Jason Todd x reader #fanfiction #jason todd #red hood #red hood x reader #shout out to my homies at redhoodiescentral #love you fam #redhoodiescentral #batfam #dick grayson being a lil shit #chipsmakes

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