Work Text:
“Hi Batman!”
Bruce choked on his champagne, Dick nearly dropped his glass. Janet pursed her nearly-smiling lips, and Jack barely hid his laughter. The nine-year old Tim just grinned, unaware that his words had just shocked the World’s Greatest Detective.
What the hell?!
…
Two weeks ago…
“Is Bruce Wayne Batman?” Tim asked randomly, which made his parents pause. It was a normal breakfast, with Janet sipping her tea while her husband flipped through the news, their little son gently kicking his legs as he ate. But his words made the room pause, and both the parents shared a quick glance.
What did our son just say? Jack asked.
Bruce Wayne is apparently Batman, Janet responded.
Jack’s eyes twitched down to his son, before catching his wife’s once more.
He’s probably right, isn’t he?
Janet’s eyes moved slightly to the left. Basically a nod of agreement.
Knowing our son? Most likely.
Well then.
“You wanna tell us why, champ?” Jack grinned, and Tim beamed. A new fixation, Janet supposed. Tim flipped through them every few months, and knowing the little genius’s daredevil-ness, it was bound to land on the Bat sooner or later.
“You know the circus we went to six years ago? The one where the Grayson’s died! Remember how Dick did a quadruple somersault for me?!” Tim near-shrieked, and Janet could almost imagine a powerpoint presentation behind him.
She remembered the Grayson’s, of course. Such a sweet family, so excited to please even the tiniest of Tim’s. She remembered hiding her child when they fell, both her and Jack’s eyes widening as the sickening splat of two bodies fell. Bodies falling wasn’t truly strange in Gotham, especially not if you had lived there for over a decade, but the sight of the Grayson's own son screaming made Janet want to hide Tim away to never let him get hurt. A near-impossible scenario, considering the city they lived in, but one that she dreamed of regardless.
But nevermind that, she was glad that Richard was alright. Although she was… skeptical of Wayne’s parenting, she could see that it was better for the child. The two likely bonded over losing two parents in one night, so who was Janet to question them.
“Yes dear, we remember. Why would that relate?” Janet asked slowly, enunciating her syllables in the way her son preferred her too. He apparently liked copying her speech, because it 'made him feel smarter'. She was always up for a slight ego boost, so she took the opportunity when she could.
As she said that, the gears started turning in her head. Robin, red yellow and green, acrobatic vigilante…
She glanced at her husband, who seemed to be making the same connections. Thank goodness that her family were all sensible people, it made conversations like these so much easier to follow.
“I saw Robin do it! The quad-somersault! Only Dick can do that in America! It has to be him!” His son grinned as he hopped at every exclamation. Well that was prime evidence right there, but…
“...Tim, when did you see Robin do a somersault?” Jack asked, and Janet pursed her lips. The Bat barely came to Bristol, rather honing in on the mainland of Gotham.
Though not Crime Alley, the place where Bruce Wayne’s parents were murdered. Huh, she supposes Batman was a terribly-kept secret…
Regardless, that doesn’t change the fact that Batman didn't patrol around Bristol. At least, not nearly enough for their son to spot him, let alone the Boy Wonder as well.
“I see them when I follow them!”
Janet near-choked on her tea, her husband quickly patting her back, his face a near-laughable mix of terrified, angry, and proud. She collected herself rather quickly, rubbing her forehead as she exhaled a long breath.
“You… follow the bats?”
“Yeah!” Their son grinned that beautiful innocent smile that Janet would be smiling at if it were any other situation.
“I even have photos!”
She looks up at Jack, and her husband sighed.
“Then, can we see them dear?”
…
“We could legitimately sell these to the press…” Janet heard her darling husband murmur, and she couldn’t help but agree. High-definition photographs definitely developed in the little darkroom they bought for Tim’s seventh birthday, all so dynamic and gorgeous that Vickie Vale would be a dog at her feet trying to catch a glimpse of them.
Still, they were absolutely not going to do that. A little bit because she utterly despised the red-head paparazzi, and mostly because that would put her son in a spot. He was eight years old, for goodness sake - Janet wasn't going to make him deal with the press. Tim hadn't even gone to a gala yet.
“You like them?” said little boy giggled, clutching his other album in his hand. Never in Janet’s life had she been so grateful for the fact that Tim was so utterly oblivious to how insane he sounded sometimes, otherwise the boy may have hid these things till the day he died. Janet certainly would have, if she was in his place.
“They’re gorgeous, chum. But are you safe out there?” Jack asked, eyes filled with pride yet brows furrowed in worry. Tim blinked, before looking at the photos.
“I’m very fast! And I know self defense! I also don’t stay after ten thirty, I don’t like being sleepy in Gotham.”
…At least their son was keeping himself safe?
No, he was still absolutely insane Janet!
“I– Tim, that’s still dangerous,” Janet mumbled, feeling far too out of her element. Most children his age were just rowdy on the posh, clean alleys of Bristol. Their son was following the Bats!
Their son blinked, analysing his parents. Another thing that was so special about his son - his empathy. That boy could read emotions like it was a kindergarten textbook, enough so that he would childishly-demand that Mrs. Mac made Darjeeling whenever Janet came home after an annoying day at work, no matter if she had even spoken a word about it. It always calmed her down, as did the happy giggle her son did when she would kiss him on the forehead in thanks.
“I can stop, if you guys want me to?” He asked, and Janet felt a wave of whiplash. Their absolutely mad son would still stop whatever he was doing for the sake of the people he cared about. She wasn’t built for this kind of conversation, so she looked at her husband, hopefully conveying how out-of-her element she was.
Luckily, her wonderful, glorious husband simply clasped her hand, using his other one to scruff his son’s hair. Good lord was she going to thank him later that night.
“We’re not telling you to stop, kiddo. Does taking photos make you happy?”
Their son nods vigorously, his eyes glowing as if fireworks were bursting.”
“Yeah! I love watching Dick do all his cool acrobatics and Bruce kick the bad guys! They’re so cool mom– and I’d never want to be Robin because that’s Dick’s title but–!” his son had to physically stop there, his body bouncing under his father's hand. Janet couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at that, her worry quelling.
Her boy wasn’t doing it out of rebellion, or thrill. He just wanted to see his idols do cool things. The Bats weren’t celebrities, they couldn’t be seen by the public eye, so their naive little boy decided to use his own lens instead. Boys will be boys, Janet supposed. Jack had been equally mad over his archeology.
(“Jack, why do you have a pile of dirt there?”
“Hi Jan! It’s not just a pile of dirt, I found this site at my internship–”
He rambled for hours about why this specific piece of dirt mattered, and Janet just leaned her head on his shoulders. Absolutely insane, that man was.
She bought him a diamond ring the next week.)
…Maybe they were all a little insane.
“We won’t stop you from Bat-watching,” she starts, taking a quick look at her son. Eight years old, but small for his age, with his cheeks still filled with baby fat. Black hair and blue eyes that looked just like her own, while also closely matching the Graysons. Excitable, risk-taking, empathetic…
Oh, Janet knew just how to get her little boy what she wanted. And maybe even a little bond with Wayne Enterprises as a treat.
“--but I think I know a better way to do it,” she finished, giving a grin so similar to her son’s own. She could see her husband’s reddening ears in her peripheral vision, which only sharpened her smile.
This was going to be so much fun.
…
“Cut off the digs for a few months.”
“Are they too long, Jan? I didn’t think Tim felt alone…”
“No, I just have something better for us to do.”
“...God god, I haven’t seen you smile like that in years, darling.”
Janet let out a graceful laugh, pressing a kiss on her husband’s cheek.
“Does that mean a yes?”
“Of course it does.”
…
Dick took a flute of apple juice, fizzy enough to let the other rich kids think that they were adults drinking champagne. He found it stupid, grape juice was better and more adult in his honest opinion.
But opinions don’t exist in a gala. Only peer pressure and endless scrutiny. It was Dick’s first time attending since he turned 15, and he already wanted to get out.
His dad was all in Brucie mode, running around the room with what seemed like too-much alcohol down his throat. He flirted, exclaimed, and danced, but Dick knew that that flute was apple juice. That every few moments B’s eyes flicked towards him, saying ‘I’m still here. Take care of yourself.’
…He was a teenager. He totally didn’t feel a wave of warmth every time his dad said that. Whatever.
Age aside, he still had the young-enough looks for excessive cheek pinching, so he took a breath and a sip from his annoyingly fizzy juice before letting the ladies pull at him, talking about how sweet he was and how they were so excited for the meetups later.
Right. The meetups.
The stupid tradition where Bruce selects a random family for a more private conversation, mainly to discuss some kind business. The list was already pre-selected, and Dick knew that none of these ladies were getting in.
Though the family that just entered definitely are.
The Drakes were relatively new money, just two generations preceding the current three. Bruce had told him a bit about them, mainly Janet Drake, the woman of the house.
(“She was… certainly a character in high school.”
“Why B? Was she that desperate for you?”
“Oh god no, she wasn’t. I was the one desperate for her. ”
“What?!”
“There was no way in hell that she’d ever let me pursue it, that woman was terrifying. Besides, she met Jack and never let him go.”
“Janet and Selina. I see your type.”
“Ah, but Master Bruce, I quite remember your reaction to Mister Jack as well.”
“Alfred…”
“... Both of them, dad?”
“Shush, you know that I swing both ways.”
“Never told them though, did you?”
“Janet’s a snake, I’m not messing with either of them. They’d bite my head off.”
“The Batman, scared of a pretty couple…”
“Meet them yourself and you’ll get it. They’re gorgeous though. And they have a son.”
“That boy probably won in the gene pool, didn’t he?”
“I’ve never seen him publicly, but we’ll see in the next gala.”
“We’re putting them on the meetup list, right?!”
“Yes, yes we are. Please do not embarrass me.”
“After everything you just told me? I absolutely will.”)
…
Wow, maybe his dad was right about something.
The Drakes were gorgeous!
Firstly, the couple arrived together. Not in the order of who runs the business, not in the order of patriarchy, but together. Two people on completely even ground - enough to make most of the hall pause.
Second of course, was their looks . Janet's straight black hair layered over an emerald green dress with a singular sleeve that flowed down diagonally like water, the dress both slim and weightless all at once. Her jewellery wasn’t extravagant, but by god was it expensive, all her pure emeralds lined with small fragments of what seemed to be moonstone, which complimented her matching pale blue eyes. Her makeup seemed almost completely natural, simply hiding her blemishes. Her lashes were thin yet long, drooping down in a way that made her look like her eyes were constantly lidded, red lips in a thin, confident smile.
Her husband stood just as tall, his shorter height in comparison to the other men at the gala not preventing him from towering above them in stature. He was fit for his age, likely from the archaeology digs he seemed to do in his free time. His dark brown hair was slicked back and shined gold at the tips, matching the amber of his upturned eyes. His suit was black, with emerald detailing to match his wife’s. Moonstone was only to be found in his singular earring and the single ring on his finger, accompanied by his wedding band.
Dick had to blink himself out of his stupor. They were dressed to the freaking-nines, likely so that they’d give their young son a good debut. Janet’s eyes flitted around the whole room, before landing on his. She gave a small smile, and oh.
Oh.
This was them.
(“Ah, hello there, little Grayson,” Dick heard a pretty woman say. She was gorgeous, but her smile was warm.
“Hello there! Are you there to see the circus?!” he said excitedly, grammar still a bit off. English was weird to him, but mama said she would teach him some more tomorrow after the show.
“Yes we are!” an equally warm man said, coming from behind the woman to wrap an arm around her waist. Curled in his other one was a small toddler, likely no older than two or three. The child turned around and blinked, his big blue eyes near-glowing.
Then the kid beamed, and suddenly Dick knew exactly who he was performing for tonight.)
Dick grinned, a bit much for a posh gala but enough for Jack to give a wink in return. He could see Bruce raise an eyebrow, slightly confused, but he went straight into his Brucie persona when his eyes met the gorgeous couple’s own.
“Jackie! Been years, huh? How’s the digging going?” He laughed, and Jack paused in surprise before letting out a laugh of his own.
“Brucie! Feels like the last time I saw you, you were tossin’ your graduation cap!” Jack responds, and Dick’s dad’s eyes near-glowed as he nodded, before moving to kiss Janet’s hand.
“And of course, I could never forget about you, Jan! It’s been far too long, hasn’t it?” He grinned, and Janet huffed amusedly.
“Clearly age hasn’t made you wiser, Bruce. You became quite the loudmouth, hm?” she hummed, before making eye contact with Dick once more.
“Your son has far better tact. He wouldn’t mind meeting my Timothy now, would he?” Janet raised an eyebrow, and Dick immediately nodded. Tim, ‘lil Timbo who he took a photo with who–
A young boy finally revealed himself from behind his parents. He was standing on his own two feet now, face still young yet standing as mature as his mother. Still, the moment he saw Dick, he grinned that amazing smile, and Dick waved excitedly. Yes, there was seven years between them and Dick was trying to be mature and rebellious or whatever, but this was Tim! He could be a kid with Tim!
The younger boy giggled and waved back, quickly adjusting his own emerald tie, before looking up at his parents for their approval. Jack gently scruffed Tim’s hair, as black as his tiny suit, and nodded, so Tim jumped over to Dick, who gleefully took his hand to show him around.
Tim was going to be there for the meetups too, right?
This was going to be the best gala ever!
…
Jack watched as his son ran off with Robin, a smile on his face. He turned to Bruce, still high in his entertaining act.
“May we switch drinks?” he asked quietly, and Bruce let out another laugh. The man was definitely not drunk - Jack remembered how much he abhorred the mere thought of being under the influence when they were younger. Janet rolled her eyes at the two men’s antics, and Jack pressed a quick kiss to her head, making her smile.
He could see Bruce staring, his gaze light yet lined with something indecipherable. It had always confused Jack when they were younger. He clearly clung to him and Jan, yet kept a staunch distance otherwise, before all-but disappearing after their graduation. Now here he was, a father to a Flying Grayson and the Bat protecting Gotham with the light of his signal.
Bruce Wayne was an enigma, and from what Jack was seeing from his wife, one that Janet seemed keen on unravelling.
Jack smiled, a more smug one than his usual.
The meetup was going to be fun.
…
“Honestly, ‘Brucie Wayne’ being Batman makes an annoying amount of sense,” Janet huffed, sipping her wine. The drink of the night was champagne, but she never cared for societal whims. Jack hummed, his arm a comforting weight around her waist. They were on a balcony, keeping an eye on their son as he ran around the gardens with Richard. They were bound to get a bit messy, but Janet could spot that butler-father of Bruce keeping an eye on them, so they were probably fine.
“How so?” her husband asked, his eyes not straying from his son.
“You’re telling me that the quiet, insecure Bruce from senior year is a drunkard fool?” Janet raised her eyebrow, and Jack chuckled.
“The more we discuss it, the more I realise how terribly kept the greatest secret in Gotham is,” he huffs, and Janet chuckles herself.
“Our son is going to have so much fun,” she smiles, taking another sip of her wine. She could see it, even if Jack couldn’t. Bruce always looked in their direction, drawn to her and her husband as if a moth to a flame.
Perhaps, Janet muses, if Jack wasn’t in the picture, she may have swiped the Wayne boy instead.
But, she thinks, looking at her husband, remembering how Bruce looked at her husband.
She may have had no need to choose one over the other.
…
“Are you ready for the meetup, chum?” Bruce asked quietly, fixing his teenage son’s tie.
“Ready to see my brother again? Of course I am!” Dick grinned, before running to Alfred.
“Good– wait, what?!” the Bat exclaimed, only to be met by a smile from his butler.
“It will be a treat to meet the Drakes once more, Master Bruce. Do not think that I have forgotten your high school days.”
…Bruce was done for, wasn’t he?
…
And so, we return to the start of this story.
“Hi, Batman!” Tim grinned as he sat down in the private room, right in-between his parents.
Bruce choked on his champagne, Dick nearly dropped his glass. Janet pursed her nearly-smiling lips, and Jack barely hid his laughter. The nine-year old Tim just grinned, unaware that his words had just shocked the World’s Greatest Detective.
“Wha– what did you just say, champ?” Bruce asked, voice strained. He traded a glance with Janet, who smiled her perfect smile. Jack hid a laugh behind his hand, shaking as he placed his head on his wife’s shoulder. Dick was gobsmacked, eyes flicking between the three guests in utter confusion.
“Our boy told us quite the theory two weeks ago, Brucie,” Jack smirked, his well-tanned face upturned in a way that Bruce didn’t have the emotional capacity to handle. Janet finally let out a laugh at the Detective’s red-faced misery.
Good god, Bruce Wayne was utterly, utterly done for.