Archive of Our Own

i- Jason.

Jason wasn't pouting, no matter what anyone might say. He was just... bored. That was it. Bored out of his mind, annoyed, please-Riddler-or-someone-crash-this-party-and-kidnap-me-it-would-be-more-fun-than-that kind of disinterested.

It was his first gala since Bruce officially adopted him and Dick – their first gala while bearing the name Wayne. So it was special, Jason got that, but still – it changed nothing about the fact that Gotham's elite were plain old boring.

So he stayed here, suffering alone in a dark corner while nibbling at some appetizers. He couldn't wait to go back to his room and finish reading Emma from Jane Austen – he was in a kick to read all her books, the past few weeks.

The ballroom was full, and he could hear Bruce's laugh from here. He had no idea where Dick had disappeared off to, but he knew Barbara was coming so they were probably together somewhere. No one had bothered him in at least twenty minutes, so Jason was relaxed.

“Hello there,” cooed a voice near him, and he raised his head.

A woman was here – she wasn't Bruce's age, but not that far from it either, maybe in her very late twenties or early thirties. Her makeup didn't hide her freckles or the light scar at her temple – scars in Gotham were pretty common, but some tended to cover them up. Her brown eyes had a darkish glee in them, and her smile was a little cracked.

Jason tensed up slightly. He didn't show it, though – he remembered Alfred's lesson on etiquette well enough, thank you very much. “Hello, ma'am,” he answered politely.

“You're the little Wayne boy, aren't you?” She approached and patted his cheek, cupping it gently between her fingers. He felt himself blush, embarrassed. She just chuckled. “How cute you are.”

“Jase! You're here!” Dick's voice startled him; Jason turned, snatching himself out of the woman's attention.

“Dick!” His brother was smiling, his vest open and tie gone god-knows-where. Considering how wrinkled his outfit was, Jason was ready to bet he had been busy climbing a tree or the facade of the house. It could almost hear the it's not proper for a seventeen-year-old, Master Dick from Alfred. Jokes on him, Dick would be eighteen in less than two months anyway.

The woman had a new sparkle into her eyes. She was now eyeing Dick with interest, without even trying to hide it. “Richard,” she purred, gluing herself to a surprised Dick. “It's been so long since last time I saw you!”

“Oh, uh, hi, Miss Preston. How are you?” He was obviously flustered, uncomfortable even. He didn't move, though, didn't try to pull her away either.

They were in a dark corner, alone, and a woman was – flirting with his brother. Jason didn't like it.

“Perfectly well, thank you for asking.” She then turned her gaze to Jason, still a poisoned smile on her lips and – Jason was going to do something, that was for sure. “Why don't you go find your father? I will keep your brother company, don't worry.”

Dick tilted his head, his gaze wandering away, even more uncomfortable than before.

And Jason, because he was a brat, raised his voice as loud as he could. “Why do you want to stay alone in the dark with my underage brother?”

Dick turned a surprised look toward him, wide eyes and all – it made him look like an owl. He wasn't the only one looking at them now – all the closest people were watching them, and soon it was more, whispers and words being passed away.

“It's not-”

Jason interrupted her again, still talking as loud as possible. “But it's what you say!” He imitated her voice with a certain delight. “Why don't you go while I keep your brother company?”

She angrily flushed, her hand clawing at Dick's waist. He immediately tried to pull away, this time, his expression a little hurt and grimacing. “Listen here, you-”

“What is going here?” came a growl – one that Jason recognized right away.

“Dad!” He turned toward Bruce with his most innocent expression. “This lady said weird things about Dick.”

“Really now?” Bruce was tearing her apart just with his eyes. She was so taken aback by his sudden appearance that her grip loosen up, and Dick finally managed to take a step back, pulling Jason by his side and hiding behind Bruce in one movement.

“It's not-” she tried to say again, but Bruce was watching them, gesturing to the door with his head.

“Why don't you wait for me in the car, boys?”

“Uh-uh. We're going,” immediately approved Dick, and he led Jason away through the crowd with expertise.

Soon they were in the hallway, almost at the front door. Dick looked at him, eyes shining, smile amused. There was literally nothing to be amused about, but whatever. His brother was weird.

“Thanks for having my back, Little Wing.”

Jason shrugged, waving it off – and trying to hid the way his cheeks reddened. “Sure, it was nothing.”

Dick indulged him and ruffled his hair, getting an indignant squeak out of Jason. They both started to run on their way to Alfred and the car with no care for the world.

“First one to the car get the last cookie!” yelled Dick from behind him.

Oh, it was on.

ii- Harper.

Harper still wasn't sure about the whole thing. It was – weird. To be honest, she didn't think someone could ask something like that out here – if there was a woman in the family who could pull out the charm and beauty to do a photo shoot, it was Stephanie, it was Cassandra, it was even Kate; but definitely not her, Harper Row, recently adopted Wayne.

She still had been the one called, though.

She wasn't alone in this, lucky her – Dick was here as well, apparently as her male counterpart of the family. It made her wonder how and why they chose them – it's not like they weren't spoiled for choice.

“You okay there?” he asked her, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “It's just... so weird.”

Dick laughed. “I know right? I'm never really comfortable with these things, outside of when Donna is the photographer.”

She placed a curious gaze on him. “Really? You've done a lot of photoshoots, though.”

“Yeah, really. But what can I say, my smile sells!”

Harper laughed. It was stupid, and Dick was grinning, now.

“So, you are the two young people I have to dress today?”

They both turned toward the entrance of the room they were waiting in. A man, smile at his lips and well-dressed, was here. Dick got up, reaching his arm out to shake the man's hand.

“Yeah, it's us. I'm Dick, and this is my sister, Harper.”

“It's very nice to meet you both.” The man let go of Dick's hand. Harper got up at her turn, reaching out her arm just like her brother did – instead of shaking it, the man took it to kiss the back of it. “Now, if you may follow me – I will bring you to the changing room. We have several outfits, and you will choose which one you want to wear for the photoshoot.”

It seemed easy enough.

“No problem,” answered Dick casually.

The changing room wasn't far; like the man – the stylist? – had said, several outfits were aligned. They were designer, and Harper had to admit most of them were right in her style. Dick started to look through them, and she did the same.

She instantly fell in love with one of the outfits; composed of pants the same blue as her hair, a pink shirt and a dark purple, suit-like vest. It was nice, and very classy. Kind of genderless, too, which was even more appealing to her.

Considering the colors of her designated outfits, and the ones of Dick's, she finally got why they were the one here. They were simply the only ones publicly out in the family. She should have read the contract a little more closely.

“You're gonna take this one?” The stylist was close to her, looking at her choice – he had a little pout, like he was disappointed.

“... Yes?” What was his problem?

“It's too bad. For a pretty girl like you, this dress would be perfect.” He gestured to the last outfit on the rack, indeed a dress, with a split on the right leg and a color gradient. Pretty much the exact opposite of what she liked to wear.

“I think I will take this one,” intervened Dick. He showed them the clothes – black, tight pants, a pale blue crop-top, a bright pink and yellow bomber jacket. It would suit him well.

The stylist grimaced. “Are you sure? It's very... feminine.”

Harper rolled her eyes. “You know, if you didn't want us to choose these options, you shouldn't have left them here for starters.”

The man looked offended, now. Dick was deeply amused. “Excuse me?”

“You're not. Let's go change, Dick.”

“With pleasure.”

They immediately went to change, arm in arm.

Outside of this little incident, the rest of the photoshoot went well – like Harper thought, they were beautiful, very classy, and everyone will be jealous of them. Ahhh.

She ended up framing one of the pictures; the one where Dick had an arm around her shoulder and was pressing a kiss into her temple, and she was laughing with delight, eyes closed but leaning against her brother.

Like she said – perfect.

iii- Tim.

It was a pure and total fortuity if Tim was in the coffee shop just when Dick brought his date in. Really, he didn't even try to make it happen – it just happened. That was all.

He stayed because he wanted to see how it would play out, though. With enough chance, he could tease his so-called big brother with it in the future. Besides, Dick hadn't even seen him, so there was really no point in leaving now.

He just sat down and hadn't even tasted his hot chocolate yet. Stephanie told him it was better than at his favorite place, and he was more than willing to prove her wrong. So, here Tim was in the middle of the day, half-hiding behind his open laptop and spying on his brother's date.

He wasn't close enough to hear their conversation, but it seemed to go well; she was blushing a little, her hand in Dick's own, and he grinned. They ordered quickly and went to sit, still too far for Tim to hear, to his great despair. And his gossip for Steph? How was he supposed to do, dub them in his head and imagine what they were saying?

… Wait, actually, that one could be funny. He should propose that to Steph one day.

In all honesty, he didn't keep his eyes totally on Dick the whole time – he also had work to do, thank you very much. The cases he was following as Robin, his homework, his mission report for Young Justice that he pushed back at least three times already (he just didn't want to remember this mission, alright?).

A waiter came over to him – the one who served him when he first came by, actually. “Do you like the hot chocolate?”

Tim blinked as he looked over at his cup, still full. “I... got caught up in my work. I forgot to drink it.”

The waiter laughed and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It's alright. I can warm it up, if you want?”

Tim smiled at him. “If it's not too much trouble, I would appreciate it, thank you.”

“There's no problem, really. Anything for our favorite clients.” He concluded his sentence with a wink and Tim felt himself blush. It was his first time here, really. But maybe the waiters here were just all friendly?

He let him take his cup and went back to his work, concentrating. He had switched to his homework ten minutes ago, thank God, or the waiter would have see some very questionable things.

Tim sent a look at his brother. Apparently, his date was still going well – the woman was now batting her eyelashes at Dick, leaning over the table to be closer to him, and Dick laughed at something she said.

It wasn't his usual laugh, though. It was more... Closed off, somehow.

Tim stopped working one second, still focused on his brother, frowning, thinking. Something was off.

He was interrupted in his reflection by the waiter from before, though; he gently placed the cup beside Tim, and Tim smiled at him politely. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome. Try to not forget it again, it would be a shame.” The waiter was still smiling, and while straightening he accidentally brushed Tim's cheek. He lingered there, one, two seconds almost, and Tim blinked, confused.

“You're... You're... You're just an exotic whore!” suddenly shouted a voice, and both Tim and the waiter turned their head toward the commotion.

It was Dick's date. She was standing, now, expression angry.

Dick raised an eyebrow elegantly in a very Alfred-way. “I'm a whore because I refuse to sleep with you? That's a first.” He didn't even try to keep his voice low and the conversation private. He was apparently done with the situation.

Tim nearly slapped himself. Of course that was what was off!

He standed up and closed his laptop in one go. “Hey! Don't talk to him like that!” The woman turned toward him, offended, but Tim didn't let her talk. “Besides, from my point of view, you're the one in the wrong here for being that ready to sleep with a stranger. It’s stupid to go on a date and expect to finish it in bed!”

Her cheek reddened. “Listen here-”

Dick cut her. “Oh, Timmy! I didn't see you! Want to grab an ice cream?”

It was the middle of winter, Dick.

“Sure, why not,” Tim still answered.

“Nice!” Dick standed up at his turn and Tim grabbed his stuff, joining his brother quickly; Dick put his arm around his shoulder.

They both exited the coffee shop. Dick had a little smile at the corner of his lips.

Tim didn't ask what for. He was just glad to be with his brother.

(And maybe to escape once again this damned mission report.)

iv- Duke.

It was Duke's first live interview.

He really didn't know how to wrap his mind around that one. He would never have thought it could happen to him not that long ago. How his life had changed.

(For the better was still up to debate, but the Waynes were slowly winning him over.)

The sofa he was sitting on was comfortable, at least. Dick's reassuring presence by his side helped, too, as well as the whole rundown of every possible question they had at the Manor before coming over. He didn't even have to dress in a tuxedo or something, which, thank gods. Classy but cozy clothes were enough, and Dick even gave him a matching bracelet.

The intervierwer was a pretty lady, with an elegant suit and a perfect bun, her smile understanding but all kinds of prying. A perfect journalist for gossip.

Dick's arm was resting on the back of the sofa, just behind him; Duke could feel his warmth, like a familial and grounding presence.

They had been at it for around fifteen minutes now. Until then, it had been basic questions, about life at Wayne Manor, the family, how everyone was going. There had been some traps; some questions carefully worded like she wanted them to say yes, Jason is a real life zombie (which was all kind of true, but it was true for at least half of the family too at this point) or, no, we really can't stand each other, this family is a nightmare (which, yes, they were a nightmare, but that wasn't for the reasons they were all thinking of).

The intervierwer had a sharp smile, now. Or a shark-like one. Both worked. “So, boys! Now that we're done with the usual, how about a more... spicy subject to end this?” She winked at the audience, who laughed and cheered right on cue. There was a strange glee in her eyes, and Duke wasn't sure he liked it. “I wanted to ask,” she continued, her gaze on him, and Duke tensed, “about parent-”

“Oh, is this the moment I can brag about Mar'i?” interrupted Dick, suddenly leaning toward her with a happy, wide smile. He was perfectly at ease, like a fish in the water, his eyes shining with excitement.

Duke couldn't help but smile, too. Since Dick and Kori got Mar'i back five months ago, they never once stopped cooing at her and talking about her to everyone who would listen. Duke understood – they had been separated for so long, and they were kind of new parents, and Mar'i was the absolute cutest little girl in the world. Duke was a proud uncle. The fact that both Dick and Kori were minor celebrities – Dick by being the oldest son of a billionaire, Kori by being a model as her human cover – attracted enough attention for them to be unable to hide Mar'i away like they would have prefered. So, intead, they apparently opted for the famous “talking about her until everyone got bored” way to go.

Besides, they loved talking about Mar'i. So, two birds in one stone, really.

The lady blinked, taken aback, and Dick continued. “Because, I have to say, she's the cutest little girl in the world. Did I already say that? Oh, I probably already said that.” He laughed, and the crowd followed.

“You say that like, every minute at least,” added Duke – you had to go with the flow sometimes.

“Can you blame me, really?” His brother was beaming, and Duke chuckled, amused.

“Yeah, no. She is cute.”

The intervierwer let out a delighted laugh. “Oh, yes, she seems like a wonderful kid!” She didn't leave them the time to answer before continuing. “While we are on the subject, Richard, tell me, how do you think your parents would have reacted to you getting your girlfriend pregnant at twenty?”

Duke blinked, because- she didn't really just ask that, right? There was no way-

“Well, Bruce reacted quite well, I have to say,” answered Dick, head tilted with an innocent, open expression.

“Well, yes, but I mean-”

“I think Alfred cried,” interrupted Duke. “He's like, kind of the mom of the family, I think. Which is kind of weird, because he raised Bruce, so he should be the grandpa, right? And I guess Selina could be the mom, because she's dating Bruce and everything, but the mom could also be Talia, because well she definitely is Damian's mom, and kind of Jason's too, and maybe even yours, and I actually have no idea how she reacted. Wait, how did you even tell her? You went to her and were like “Eh, you're a grandma” or something? No offense, but I wouldn't try to tell Talia she's a grandma. She's super scary. It would be, like, telling Alfred his waffles aren't that great. Terrible. Wait, Alfred isn't watching this, isn't he?” With a fearful expression, Duke turned toward the nearest camera. “It's Steph who said that, I'm just the messenger!”

Dick was openly laughing beside him. The crowd was laughing as well, apparently perfectly entertained by his tirade.

In front of him, the lady had a confused expression. She opened her mouth to talk, maybe trying to get back on track; the subtle sign of an assistant told her they didn't have any more time. She gave a wry smile, definitely not happy with the outcome.

“Well, I hope you are not about to be put on a diet because of this comment, Duke!” There were laughs again. “Sadly, we have to leave it here, but I hope you both will be back again!”

They closed the interview with the usual goodbye. When Dick and he received sign that they could go, Duke sighed. Finally.

“You're okay here, little light?”

Duke smiled at the nickname and leaned against his big brother. “Yeah. It's just... tiring.”

Dick snorted. “Don't I know it.” It's true that he was dealing with that for the longest. Maybe it was why he dodged hard questions so easily. “You did good,” he continued. “I'm proud of you.”

And Duke smiled, wide, shining, bright. “So, wanna go grab some waffles before Alfred put us on a diet?”

v- Cullen.

Cullen had realized a bit late that he needed to find Christmas gifts for... all his family. Except Harper. He just wasn't used to that many people to think about. He had been panicking a little on the subject when Dick came across – he was leaving Angie and Mar'i at the Manor for the day – and proposed to him a shopping trip. So, obviously, Cullen accepted – if someone could help him, it was with no doubt the big brother of the family. He knew everyone and should be able to guide his choices in the right direction.

“So,” started Dick once they were inside the mall, Christmas decorations all around them and groovy music in the air. “Who do you need to buy a present for?”

“Hm.” Cullen raised his hand to chest height, starting counting on his fingers. “Well, I already have an idea for Cass, Tim and Damian, so I guess we can just pass to buy it first. But I still don't have any idea for Jason, Steph and Duke. I should probably buy something for Bruce too, but I have no idea either. Probably just a gag gift, because what else do you buy for a millionaire or whatever he is these days?”

Dick nodded. “Alright then. What do you know about them, their passions? What do you think they could like?”

“Well, Jason loves murders and being dramatic.”

Dick snorted. “Serious answers only, sorry, sweet bird.”

“Aaawn, too bad. So,” Cullen started again, “Jason likes reading, cooking, and pranking people. Steph likes purple, pranking people and gardening. Duke likes pranking people, poetry and video games.” He stopped. “This family has a thing with pranking people.”

Dick laughed, this time. “Oh, yeah, it's a big thing. Remember the latest prank war?”

“Oh yeah. I still can't believe Alfred won.” That had been something epic, that's for sure.

“Oh, trust me, Alfred can be the worst of us all.” Somehow, Dick thought it wasn't worth expanding on the subject, to Cullen's desolation. “Anyway, that's a good start. How about we start with the gifts you have an idea for and then we go for the others, like you proposed?”

Cullen smiled. “That's fine by me.”

The first half of their afternoon went very well – Cullen bought his gifts, and even managed to find a Batman mug with the bat-ears for Bruce. He found a plant with pretty flowers for Steph, and since he still wasn't sure for Jason and Duke, Dick proposed to him to make a stop at the bookstore to look around.

But, before that, they both decided to stop for well-needed snacks. After many debates, they opted for a combo smoothies/waffles. They got their smoothies quickly – strawberries/mango for Dick and banana/pear for Cullen.

The line for the waffles was pretty long, though. They had their smoothies to make that more tolerable, but still.

So they waited, Cullen held close by Dick's arm – his big brother told him to not let go of him two shops ago because of the crowd and he couldn't find the want to do it in him now – and sipping at his smoothie. The boy in the line behind him kept looking at him, and Cullen met his gaze. The boy blushed, and Cullen felt himself blush, too.

He was Cullen's age, with blond hair and grey eyes, a shy smile hidden behind his scarf and a fluffy hat on his head. He was cute.

“Hey,” said Cullen, obviously startling the boy.

“Hey,” he replied. Then, with a new determination, “I'm Ethan.”

“I'm Cullen. Nice to meet you. You're shopping for Christmas?”

Years ago, Cullen would have never engaged like that – would have never tried to make friends, or more, with someone he didn't know, just because he could. Things had changed – he had changed.

It was still surprising to notice it.

Dick didn't say anything, letting him talk – okay, honestly, they were flirting – with Ethan, a smile at his lips. Cullen made sure to present him as his big brother in the beginning of their conversation, and Dick had answered with a friendly wave.

Everything was going well and Cullen was sure he could have Ethan's number at the end of it, when he realized that some people in the line were – staring at them. Some with soft smiles, some with way less approving ones.

“Hey,” Dick's voice rang out suddenly. “You have a nice vest. I like it.”

Cullen turned his head toward his brother; he was talking to a man in front of them, who stepped back with a snarl at Dick's words.

“Don't fucking talk to me, you fucking fag!”

Dick frowned a little, and Cullen bit at his bottom lip. And then, he raised his voice. “There's children here who can hear you swear, man.”

Right on cue, an offended mother glared at the man, hiding her little boy behind her.

“Well these children shouldn't be exposed to people like you!” yelled the man, angry, his fists clenched.

Cullen widened his eyes a little, taking his most innocent expression. “You mean, another human being? That's sad.”

Dick burst out laughing, and it was soon followed by Ethan, then by most of the people in the line. The man was still red from anger, but at least no one was supporting his claims, so. Win for Cullen.

An employee came around not long after, a half-smile on his face that disappeared when he took a more professional expression. “Sir,” he said to the man, “I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

The man made a scene. The employee stayed inflexible, supported by the other clients. Finally, the man took his leave, not without saying as loud as he could it “wasn't worth it anyway” and that he had “never wanted to eat their waffles in the first place”. Whatever.

The same employee was the one to serve them and to compensate for the asshole, he gave them one free waffle each. Double-win. Dick smiled at him and ruffled his hair, and told him he was proud of him, and Cullen felt happy and a little proud, too, to be able to stand up like that to someone. It felt – nice. Especially because so many people supported him.

After that, the waffles had a sweet taste of victory.

(Cullen left with Ethan's number, too, so. Triple-win.)

vi- Stephanie.

“You're ready?” asked Dick, and Stephanie nodded.

They were on their way to infiltrate a nightclub – opened recently, very fancy, attracting a lot of the young population of Gotham. People had been drugged, kidnapped and raped after partying inside. After too many dead ends, Dick had suggested sending someone to look out for the culprits – so far, they only found out there were at least two of them. Dick immediately proposed himself, and Stephanie followed. It fit his public persona – Dick wasn't one to party much but it happened, more than Jason, Cassandra or Harper. Stephanie didn't have one to keep, not really; she wasn't really known to the public. Which was alright by her. She was the wild card of the family.

Dick wore black pants, a pale shirt with the first buttons open and a dark blue vest, plus gold jewelry at his ears and wrists. It fit him perfectly; with his dazing smile and just-in-point hair, he was perfectly charming. Stephanie had a black dress sparkling under the light, with a fluffy skirt and light, puffy sleeves. She also had a neckline revealing her back, and very high, pointy heels. Her jewels were gold, to make her and Dick match, and they both added little touch of makeup to their outfits.

If Stephanie had to say, they were beautiful and ready to own the night. Even if it was for a mission. They still could have fun, right?

Plus, everything was on Bruce's credit card. Even if he didn't know about the mission. They kept him out of it because... of his overprotective tendencies. To make it short.

“Let's go, Big Bird!” She put some enthusiasm into her voice. She hadn't really been in a club before, and she wasn't sure how to feel about the whole thing.

Dick hummed. “You seem worried.”

She sighed a little. “Yeah. I'm just, it's a big thing, right? And, I don't know, what if they don't let me in? I mean, I'm still underage.” She still had one year before turning twenty-one, after all. At the same time, she didn't feel comfortable at the idea of letting Dick go inside alone.

“Eh, don't worry about that. I'm sure we won't have any problem.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn't ask more; Stephanie let Dick lead her to the entrance of the club instead.

There was already a line in front of it. Dick stopped at the end, but soon someone spotted him and the word that Richard Grayson-Wayne was here made its way quickly. So quickly, in fact, that they weren't there for more than five minutes before the bouncer came right at them, all smiles and sweet words.

They were inside in no time at all.

They had to go down right after entering; everything was underground. The lights were bright and colored; the sound loud and bouncing on every wall. The dance floor was downstairs, the rest of the floor in front of them reserved to the bar and balconies with view on the rest of the club. Dick reserved one of them to make surveillance easier, and paid for two cocktails. It would help them blend in. They made their way to their balcony, drinks in hand, and sat on the comfortable couch. They even had pillows.

Steph almost had to sit on Dick's lap to be able to hear him talk to her.

“We need to not attract any attention,” he started, staring at the dancefloor below. “So, I propose we go dancing after that. If anything or anyone makes you uneasy, tell me, alright?”

She nodded with a big smile and gave him a thumbs up.

They didn't really touch their drinks; alcohol on a mission wasn't a good idea in general. On top of that, Stephanie had never seen Dick drink more than soft drinks. And her, well... she wasn't supposed to have more than that. So.

Soon enough, Dick was leading her to the dancefloor with a smile, his makeup glowing in the dark and bright lights. Even if they were supposed to be serious – well, Stephanie still wanted to enjoy the night. She smiled and laughed and dragged Dick along in a dance, making him turn on himself and relax a little more.

They could still have fun, after all.

It didn't take long for them to be approached by other dancers. Dick and her shared a look before going each on their way with their new partners.

Stephanie found out quickly that having fun and still staying aware of everything around herself was harder than it looks. She was still smiling, dancing around with whoever was willing to make her dance, laughing along bad puns and flirting left and right. No one was suspect enough and everyone kind of was suspect at the same time – it was disconcerting. She didn't see the time pass – which was why she was surprised when Dick put his arm around her waist and pulled her against him.

“I'm going back upstairs. Keep an eye out,” he murmured into her ear.

She nodded and laughed like he just told her a joke; then, she pushed him a little, playfully, making him smile as well. “Go get some rest, old man. I'm still young and I still have the whole night in front of me!”

He laughed before waving at her and making his way upstairs. He must have seen something. She followed him with her eyes before going back to her current dance partners, giving them an apologetic smile. The girl to her left laughed.

“He's pretty! A friend?”

Stephanie shook her head. “My brother.”

She smiled. “Oh, I see! Don't worry, I'm still more interested in you,” she winked at her and Stephanie laughed, smiling full teeth at her.

Something catched her attention, though.

Something in the corner of her eyes...

Stephanie raised her head and, there – on their balcony. Dick was leaning against the table, tripping on his feet and overthrowing their drinks. She could imagine more than really hear the glass smashing against the floor.

Dick wasn't alone. There were two people with him, and his movements weren't very coordinated.

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Stephanie abandoned her dance partners then and there and immediately took the stairs, walking as quickly as she could. She stopped one or two feet from the comfortable couch she had been sitting on two hours ago, looking at her brother and taking catching her breath.

Dick was sitting, propped against the pillows, his eyelids drooping. A woman was on his right, her arm around his waist, her mouth at his ear, obviously talking to him. Her hand was on his thigh, way too high for comfort. On Dick's left was a man, leaning against him and kissing his neck. And Dick wasn't moving, his arms twisted behind him, his hands not even in the picture, his legs shaking.

From afar, anyone could think that Dick had his arms around their waists and was flirting, having a good time.

Stephanie knew better.

Her heart was pounding into her ears as she made her way to the balcony, crossing the short distance in four steps. Fury was burning into her veins, her breathing short and hard.

“What the hell are you doing,” she let out as soon as she was in front of them, fists on her hips, ready to fight.

The man stopped what he was doing and moved back a little on the couch, looking at her. Then, he smiled sweetly, getting up, his arm reaching toward her.

“Baby, you're finally here! Come and join us, would you?” His voice was as charming and sweet as his smile, all inviting and dripping smoothness.

Stephanie met Dick's gaze – dazed, a little bit out of it, but here enough to scream danger at her.

And she saw red.

“Get your hands off of my brother right fucking now.” Her tone was ice and her glare was fire, but none of them moved.

So Stephanie did the next logical things – she punched.

Her fist met the man's face in no time, her high heels crashing into his crotch right after. He stumbled, falling into the sofa with a surprised yelp. Dick managed to get enough strength to push the woman off of him, getting on his feet as soon as possible.

They meet in the middle, Stephanie grabbing Dick to make him lean against her, passing his arm around her shoulders and putting hers around his waist. She pulled him out of range of the two others, who were quickly coming back to themselves and starting to react.

Before anything could happen, though, an employee came to them.

“Is something wrong here?” they asked with a tainted smile.

“Yes,” replied Steph harshly. “They drugged my brother!”

The employee looked at her, then at Dick, and she could see the moment they recognized him. Good.

“She's freaking out for nothing, the kid is just drunk, that's all. We were just about to have a good time,” said the woman, unbothered, with a gentle smile to the employee and a vague gesture – something like kids these days, eh?

“Well...” they obviously didn't know what to say, so Steph saved them the pain.

“If that's so, I can just call our lawyers and see what they would say about it, hm?” She made a show out of retrieving her phone from the very well-hidden pocket in her dress.

The employee swallowed. “It's alright Miss, we are going to take care of that.” They took the talkie-walkie hanging on their belt, more serious, more determined.

Soon enough, Dick and Steph were in a backroom with blankets on their shoulder and hot chocolate pressed into their hands while cops were talking to the two aggressors – who were apparently the one they were trying to find.

The drugs they gave Dick were supposed to keep him compliant and malleable, but he was too stubborn to be taken out that easily. Stephanie may have laughed a little when they delivered her the news, and the smile on Dick's face hadn't helped. He was still against her, his head on her shoulder, and she felt – relaxed. It wasn't how the night was supposed to go, but at least their mission was complete.

She just wasn't looking forward to Bruce's arrival.

“Thanks,” murmured Dick softly under his breath. She let her head rest against his own.

His hair smelled like the shampoo he always used – something like fruit and spring. It was familiar and grounding.

“Anytime, big bro,” she answered in a tone just as low.

She closed her eyes, and sunk in the warm feeling of love.

vii- Damian.

Damian had a walking path he liked to take with Titus when his dog needed to get out. More often than not, Dick managed to be there and accompanied them.

It was one of those days; they were past Bristol, in a nice part of Gotham that wasn't really in Gotham itself. It was some sort of in between. It was mostly safe, so Damian was relaxed, watching Titus jogging around, chasing after birds and papers carried by the wind. Dick walked beside him, a smile at his lips.

“The art project isn't that bad, especially since I am in the same group as Maps. She, at least, knows what she's doing, in contrast to the other children in my class.”

Dick nodded. “Well, I'm glad that you are with your friend. It's always better for group work. I can't wait to see the result.” He smiled down at him, and Damian let a contented expression smooth his face.

“Thank you.”

In front of them, Titus barked. They both looked over at him; he was just running around, growling at a car parked in front of a house.

“Titus!” shouted Damian, and his dog perked his ears. “Come back here!”

Titus growled a little before coming back to him, whining a little.

Dick patted the dog's head. “Good boy.”

Damian tried not to smile, because of course his dog was a good boy, but he also had just barked at a car and probably disturbed the neighborhood. It shouldn't be rewarded. He crouched in front of the dog, determined to scold him.

He didn't have time to act, though, because someone shouted behind them. “Excuse me!”

It was a man, probably around thirty, hair tucked into a cap, his eyes barely visible under the visor. He was smiling, a notebook in his hand. “Excuse me,” he said again. “Are you Richard Grayson-Wayne?”

Dick tilted his head and smiled at the man. “Yes, it's me. What can I do for you?”

“I'm a big fan! Can I have an autograph, please?”

Titus started to move, trying to break free from Damian's hold. And, in any other occasion, Damian would have let him do so – he would even have followed him. He used to do that all the time. It just... It didn't feel right, this time.

“Of course, why not? Do you have a pen?” answered Dick nicely.

“Oh, yes, of course!” The man – the fan – handed him a pen and Dick took it and the notebook, quickly signing it. He then gave it back to the man, who now looked... annoyed. It only lasted one second, though – he had a happy smile on his face just after. Maybe Damian didn't see well?

“Well, that's it. Do you need anything else? I would like to keep going on my walk with my little brother here, if you don't mind.” Dick was still smiling, his posture relaxed; but his smile was a little stained. Damian was able to recognize it. He used to see it all the time, when Dick was his Batman. Besides, he recognized the sentence for what it was – a demand for Damian to stay close by.

“Well, if you don't mind... I would love to ask you something, but, it's not... really for little ears?” The man had an embarrassed laugh.

Dick hummed. “I'm not very comfortable with that, sorry.”

“Please! It will only take a minute!” The fan dragged Dick along, his hand on Dick's back, without listening to Dick's protests or his attempts to gently push him away..

Damian didn't like it. He watched as the man and his brother walked away, silent, frowning. He didn't feel at ease. Maybe it was the way the man had watched them, hiding his fidgeting as much as he could, or how little he could see his eyes, or his gaze wandering from him then away to his brother. He didn't like the way he stayed close to Dick, either, touching him, his smile cracked and wicked.

He didn't wait for more. Act first, apologize later was his way to go. He leaned over Titus and murmured into his dog's ear. “Titus. Attack.” And then, he let him go.

Because Titus was a well-trained dog, he immediately obeyed. He jumped on the man, barking at him, and the man fell in his rear. He yelped, afraid, and when Dick made a sign at Titus to let him go, the man got up and ran away.

Titus didn't have to be asked twice to chase him.

Dick looked at Damian. Damian just shrugged. “He was being invasive.”

Dick shook his head, an amused smile on them. “Let's go after Titus, we shouldn't lose him,” he said without pressing further. Instead, he took Damian's hand and dragged him along in his jog after the dog – it could have annoyed Damian, but he felt too satisfied right now for that.

He looked a moment behind them to the path they should have taken; the car was gone. He didn't hear it leave.

Damian shrugged – it didn't matter anyway. He concentrated on his run, his hand still in his big brother's own, and let a real smile warm his lips.

viii- Cassandra.

Cassandra wasn't one to say she was unlucky. She had, after all, escaped a centuries-old cult to finally find a family on her own and protect the people around her. On the contrary, she would maybe call herself lucky.

Right now though, she was feeling all types of vindictive. She mostly just wanted to pout at Bruce and make him pay. Probably by pranking him. He still didn't know it was her who replaced all his suits with t-shirts with cat puns on it.

… He still thought it was Selina.

(Technically, Selina did help her find the perfect t-shirts.)

It didn't change the fact she had been forced to attend yet another charity gala. She had been the only one available and it was important that a member of the Wayne family was always present, apparently. She should probably also curse her siblings who ran away without warning her beforehand.

At least she wasn't the only one stuck here.

Dick had been coming for a quick visit and Bruce roped him into attending with them. Cass may or may not have laughed at her big brother's overplayed misery. He still winked at her behind Bruce's back, so she supposed they would probably prank their father together.

Sweet, sweet sibling bonding time.

“Heeey!” said someone near her, and Cassandra turned.

A woman was here, dress hugging her tightly, smile on her red lips, hair on point. She also had a drink on her hand, and by the way she moved it wasn't the first one.

“You're the Wayne girl, right?”

Cass nodded without saying anything. She had mostly stayed by herself until there, tucking herself in a corner of the ballroom away from socialization. She just didn't feel like dealing with people. She thought she could but... Yeah, no. She really couldn't.

“You look so nice,” said the woman again, approaching with a sloppy smile, eyes staring at her with an almost worrying focus.

“Thank you,” answered Cassandra, tilting her head a little. It was alright – the woman was mostly friendly, even if Cass didn't like the way she was leaning into her personal space.

“You-” She didn't have time to finish her sentence; like a demon summoned from hell, Dick appeared between them, a charming smile on his face.

“Miss Anderson! It's been a while since last I saw you! How are you doing?”

The newly presented Miss Anderson beamed at Cassandra's brother. “Dickie! You seem even more beautiful everytime I see you!”

Dick laughed. “I can't help my good genes.”

Miss Anderson went full laugh, nearly dropping her glass in the process and only catching herself when she grabbed Dick's forearm.

It was a light touch, at first, and Dick stayed relaxed through it. Then, she lowered her hand, touching Dick's bicep, pressing it with an appreciative look.

“Wow, you have a lot of muscles.”

Her brother waved it off. “I have to keep in shape,” he said, still smiling, but-

Miss Anderson nodded, still focused, leaning more and more against Dick, invading his personal space and almost snuggling against him.

Dick wasn't so comfortable, now.

And-

Cassandra had come far when it came to understanding emotions. She still couldn't pretend to be a specialist, or even remotely good with it; but she knew enough. She had especially a hard time with Dick with how good of a liar and performer he was, sometimes almost managing to trick her, but she had learned how to read her big brother properly, how to read his emotions.

He was not at ease. He was uncomfortable, and it was growing worse.

And Cassandra might not be the best at getting social clues, but even she knew that it wasn't a good sign when Miss Anderson slipped her hand to the back of Dick's body.

Cass intercepted her just in time.

Miss Anderson blinked at her, confused, and Cass glared. “Leave.”

“What?” choked out the woman, bewildered.

“Leave. Now.”

She blinked again, then stumbled on her steps as she walked forward, before totally turning away and disappearing into the crowd.

“Cass?” Her brother's voice was soothing, his hand coming to her neck in a soft, relaxing weight.

She was still tense, though.

She took Dick's hand in hers and pulled at him, obliging him to follow her through the ballroom and to the outside. She didn't stop walking through the garden until she found a bench distant from the rest of the party.

They sat, Dick still looking curiously at her.

“Why?” she asked.

“Why what?”

Cassandra might not be the best, the most understanding – but she knew her family.

And Dick, to some extent, was like her – he knew the language of the human body, how to interpret it and act in consequence. He hadn't mastered it like her – but she knew he could recognize people's intentions pretty easily.

“You didn't... You let her...” She was struggling to find the right words to describe what she was thinking exactly. It was frustrating. “She was...”

She was invading him. She had been talking to her, and invading her and starting to make her tense, and then Dick showed up and attracted the woman's attention to him.

It could be read as inadvertence.

It could, but it was Dick, and Cassandra knew her big brother.

“... Oh,” she breathed softly.

Dick was still looking at her. He squeezed her hand, bringing her back in the moment, and she felt her heart pounding because how could she have missed that?

“Since when?” she asked, her gaze right into Dick's eyes, daring him to lie or pretend he didn't know what she was talking about.

He seemed surprised a second; then, a soft look replaced the emotion, full of a tender love he always expressed for his friends and family.

“I always had been used to being a target because of Dad's money,” he started. “Jason wasn't. I was, and still am, the big brother. It's my job.”

Cassandra could have cried, or shook Dick by his shoulder, probably; instead, she just thought of all the years her self-sacrificing big brother had to go through all of that. And for what?

Because he loved Jason, and their siblings, and her.

It could be seen as stupid. But, well, wasn't that the way of showing love in this family?

She sighed, and smiled at her brother. She thought of Jason, of Tim, Stephanie, Harper, Damian, Duke, Cullen – of all their younger siblings and everything they were enduring already, everything that still could be thrown at them by Gotham and her worst.

It was a little stupid, and a little unecessary – but she understood.

Cassandra would do the same in a heartbeat.

“Alright,” she said, and hugged Dick.

He could take care of protecting their younger siblings.

And Cassandra, well – she would look out for their big brother.

(Protecting each other was how they showed their love, after all.)