Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tim was in trouble.

Like in deep, deep, DEEP trouble. Maybe even worse than his year abroad with the League of Assassins.

Okay, that was a lie. Nothing would be as bad as losing his spleen.

But what was he so pressed about, you may ask?

Well, he was currently sitting next to Kon, Cassie, and Bart as Superman briefed the entire hero community—and he meant entire. Everyone from the Outsiders, Outlaws, Titans, Birds of Prey, Young Justice, and the Justice League was present.

Tim sighed. He could feel Jason smirking at him under his helmet from where he was seated between Roy and Kori. Dick, who sat near the head of the table as the leader of the Titans, was clearly trying to stifle a laugh—at least, to anyone who knew him. And Bruce’s clenched jaw made it clear he was so done with all of this. Even Damian looked slightly disgruntled.

In the end, Tim would like to blame Bruce.

If Bruce hadn’t gotten lost through time, then Tim wouldn’t have had to go on a quest to bring him back and end up becoming an internationally wanted art thief (beat that, Jason!), which is what put him on the League’s radar in the first place.

Actually, if Bruce hadn’t fallen into a depression after Jason’s death, then Tim wouldn’t be here at all. He could be living life blissfully unaware.

But no.

Tim sighed again. Kon shot him a look, probably worried about the number of times his best friend had sighed in the last hour alone.

Again, this was all Bruce’s fault. If he didn’t insist on keeping their identities and relationships secret for “safety reasons,” then Tim wouldn’t be here listening to Superman lecture the entire hero community on all the ways the youngest C.E.O. in the world, Timothy Drake-Wayne, was dangerous and showed potential of becoming the next Luthor.

Tim could admit that was a reasonable suspicion—IF he wasn’t sitting RIGHT HERE!!

And besides, after taking over the company, Tim had also become the Justice League's—and by extension, the hero community at large’s—main benefactor.

Tim resisted the urge to sigh again.

At least the suspicion wasn’t only on Timothy Drake, but also on the rest of the Waynes for reasons like being “too dumb” and having “weirdly good relationships with each other.”

In Tim’s humble opinion, as the world’s second (first, be honest, Bruce) greatest detective, those were not valid reasons to suspect someone. Which, thankfully, most of the senior members agreed with—so luckily, Tim wouldn’t be getting arrested today.

However, that is why Superman and Wonder Woman planned to put all the teams on rotating shifts of surveillance on the Waynes—specifically him.

Great.

Tim would just love seeing his friends, who technically don’t know they're his friends, everywhere.

He sent a pleading look to Bruce, who just ignored him, as usual. Tim tried not to pout, knowing Cassie and Cissie would notice something was up.

And the worst part? Bruce couldn’t even claim this as a Gotham case because you needed multiple people on the case—which he would have if he’d just let them admit they were family!

Tim was really getting tired of pretending not to know his siblings—or in some cases (Jason and Damian), pretending to hate them. Sure, out of all his siblings he fought with Jason and Damian the most, but they had long outgrown the animosity between them.

On the bright side, he still had movie night at the Clocktower to look forward to. Steph had promised to bring her special waffles, and Babs had blackmailed Jason into cooking. Duke had forfeited his turn to let Cass choose the movie, and she had landed on Finding Nemo. Which, surprisingly enough, none of them had watched yet.

Bruce, as usual, would be skipping. At this point, Tim was convinced B didn’t even know the movie nights were a thing—even though Dick had assured him that he and Babs had reminded Bruce multiple times.

After the Debrief

“Wow, this kid is loaded,” Kon exclaimed.

“Apparently, he has like a vault of kryptonite somewhere and ties with the League of Assassins!” Bart tacked on, sending a mischievous grin Tim’s way.

Tim was pretty sure that Bart—being from the future—already knew their identities and was just messing with him at this point. But with Bart? Who knows?!

“What’s wrong, Tim?” Cassie teased. “Shouldn’t you already have a manila folder on the guy and a hundred contingencies to go with it at this point?”

Cassie and the others may not know his civilian identity, but at least they knew his first name. Tim had convinced Bruce to let him at least tell Kon—it’s not Tim’s fault if he made sure Cassie and Bart would overhear too!

Tim sighed for like the trillionth time that day, rolling his eyes. He was about to retort when he and Cass locked eyes.

Icy—cold.

It was a brief moment, barely lasting a second or two, but you could feel the temperature drop.

Cassie suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

“Uuuh…” she stammered.

Cass looked up at her, expression seemingly blank, before straight-up disappearing and reappearing next to the rest of the Birds of Prey.

Tim just rolled his eyes fondly at his sibling’s antics, knowing it wouldn’t be visible through his mask.

“Man! I know she’s on our side, but Orphan still scares the heck out of me,” Kon said, tracking Cass’s movements with his eyes.

Cassie rolled her eyes. “Come on, we need to get our group assignments.”

They headed to where Nightwing was standing next to Donna, currently looking bored as he distributed the folders and explained, for what sounded like the hundredth time, the finer details of the mission.

“Hey Wing,” Bart greeted as Cassie went to have a short discussion with Donna.

“Bart!” Nightwing replied warmly. He always seemed so friendly despite being so reserved. If Bart was being honest, it was kinda weird. The only reasons Bart and Cassie even knew Wing at all was because he was friends with Kon, Wally, and Donna.

Red Robin, on the other hand—Bart was sure, knew little to nothing about Nightwing on a personal level. Sure, they’d interacted at a professional level, coordinating on missions and such, but never more than that.

“All right, Young Justice,” Nightwing started, “so that’ll be Kon, Bart, and Cassie. Red Robin, looks like you’ll have to sit this one out for identity reasons.”

Red nodded, as if he had already expected that—which, knowing him, he probably did.

“So, the three of you,” Nightwing continued, “will be charged with main surveillance on Timothy Drake.”

Tim resisted the urge to groan out loud, satisfying himself by sending glares at his brother instead.

“You’ll be posing as the new interns at his company and will be attempting to get close to him in order to enter his inner circle. Be warned, Drake is known for being cold, harsh, and generally hard to work with.”

Tim glared harder. Poor Tam! She’d have a stroke dealing with interns who had absolutely no clue what they were doing.

While he was glaring, Tim noticed something—Dick seemed to be favoring his left side.

Tim tried to think—had Dick been injured recently? Well, there had been that fight with Croc the other day, where Dick was launched into the balcony. But surely if he had gotten injured, he would have told someone, right?

Who was he kidding?  Being a bat automatically meant you were emotionally repressed and hated to be seen as vulnerable, which meant never revealing your injuries. Tim knew he couldn't get mad, the amount of times he's done it himself would send Dick's head spiraling.

Well, Tim grinned internally.

Time to initiate Protocol 49KDR, which they used whenever they needed to get each other out of social events without revealing their connections to one another.

Tim lightly tapped his comm in Morse code, knowing Babs would hear, while locking eyes with Dick.

Dick had a look in his eyes that said, Don’t you dare.

Tim dared.

Almost instantly, he could feel all the bats in the room subtly switch their attention to Dick. He could practically see Jason glaring and Damian plotting ten different ways to get Dick to go home.

Now it was Dick’s turn to glare.

Meanwhile, their various teammates remained oblivious.

Bruce shot them a look that clearly meant: Dick, go home and be careful, or you’ll blow our cover.

Steph got the ball rolling, casually commenting to Huntress and Supergirl about how Nightwing seemed really tired—which caused them to shoot worried glances at him, alerting Kori to the trouble.

Kori immediately walked over to them, stopping to check with Oracle (everyone knew she knew everything—even stuff she had no business knowing).

“Oracle, I apologize for the interruption. Have you noticed anything off with Nightwing today?”

Babs pretended to be pensive for a minute before saying, “Now that you mention it, he does seem to be favoring his left side…”

Roy’s curiosity was piqued by all the commotion, to which Jason explained it was probably because Nightwing was quiet during the briefing—which, for a prominent member of the hero community, was especially weird.

“But who knows? You know the guy much better than me,” Jason said—for secret identities’ sake and all that.

At this point, Roy worriedly went to talk with Cissie and Lian about “his” findings. Duke rolled his eyes. They think it’s their idea.

Damian smirked—another job well done—having been the one to point Lian in Roy’s direction.

By now, Cissie had slipped back to her team, and Roy and Lian had gone to tell Artemis.

Kon overheard their conversation (super hearing and all that).

“Wait! You’re injured?!” He exclaims, before using his X-ray vision to check Dick's leg.

“How are you still standing? Your calf is broken in like three different places?!”

Dick shrugged. “You get used to the pain after a while.”

At the glares he received after that, he chuckled and raised his hands. “All right, all right, I know when I’m not wanted,” before heading for the Zetas.

On his way out, Damian sent him a glare that said, You better be resting and not setting up for movie night.

Dick made a sound that was a mix of an existential sigh and a chuckle. Really, he loved his siblings—but sometimes they could be a bit overbearing.

The debriefing was almost over anyway.

Chapter Text

The next couple of weeks were a bit chaotic, to say the least. Their teammates had started to initiate their infiltration plans, and Tim was already going insane. Tam was glaring at him,

hard—

probably wondering why he’d hired them in the first place. He hadn’t! Babs had hacked W.E. to ensure that Tim wouldn’t just put them in a low-tier I.T. job or something.

Duke and Damian, on the other hand, had a whole different problem. Since they were both kids and still in school (Tim had dropped out, and Steph had decided on taking an advanced placement program that allowed her to start university early), their teammates had decided the most reasonable way to befriend them was to enroll in their school. So now Duke was dealing with Jaime and Gar trying way too hard to befriend him while he did his best to keep up the awkward nerd act, and Damian had Jon, Lian, and Colin pestering him almost 8/5 (so every minute they were at school). Damian would be lying if he said he didn’t find his friends’ antics slightly endearing, which was a problem because he was supposed to maintain his cold, rich spoiled prince act.

Meanwhile, Dick was having a bit of trouble keeping up the dumb himbo act. Wally had transferred into the forensics department at the police station where Dick worked, and he and Artemis had moved into the apartment building right next to Dick. Not to mention Megan, Kaldur, Zee, and Donna continuously finding excuses to run into him. Though, to be fair, he thoroughly enjoyed messing with them by flirting with them. As a leader and role model that many of the younger heroes looked up to, he didn’t get as much of a chance to joke around and have fun with his teammates anymore. Granted, they were still his best friends, but he could never truly let loose around them, so this was nice.

At the same time, Jason, had a problem in the shape of a very hot redhead who had just moved in next door with his daughter and "wife" (Kori), and who were very intent on getting to know their new neighbor. It was starting to get hard for Jason to keep up the brutish thug act he had carefully crafted as his public persona while his neighbor often saw him reading classics like Jane Austen. Roy had even gone so far as to lend Jason his bike—which, as one of Roy's best friends, he knew was a monumental gesture. Roy must really be invested in the mission.

Simultaneously, Babs was getting overwhelmed with the amount of interns she’s had to train at the library. So far, Helena Bertinelli, Dinah Lance, Kara Danvers, and Jessica Cruz had all applied for the post at the library. So now Babs had to somehow maintain her annoying know-it-all act while still making sure the library didn’t get set on fire. Lucky for her (it’s not like she changed the mission files or anything), Helena and Jessica ended up on Steph duty, so she only had to deal with Dinah and Kara.

Speaking of Steph, she must be the only Wayne currently thriving. Her natural chaotic energy was perfect for messing with her teammates while maintaining the overworked and overstressed college student act. Helena, Jessica, and Cissie had decided the best way to get close to her was by joining her classes, and Steph had somehow roped them into a study session, which left the trio somehow more confused than when they started and covered in purple glitter. Jessica was convinced she was possessed and had somehow sold her soul to a demon.

Steph just cackled.

In the meantime, Courtney, Tatsu, and surprisingly Virgil had all hijacked Cass’s ballet classes. They decided it was the best option after realizing that Cassandra was not a very sociable person. Unsurprisingly, Tatsu was the only one who could even come close to Cass’s level of precision and grace, leaving Courtney and Virgil floundering around like fish out of water. Cass had to stifle a grin every time she saw them attempt to dance. So far, whenever they tried to talk to her, Cass simply danced away on the points of her ballet flats. Cass struggled with speech to begin with, so she preferred not to talk during her ballet lessons.

And finally, Bruce, since the start of this forsaken mission, Oliver had been pestering him nonstop to meet up. He’d been getting invites from Diana to go to various art museums and requests from Clark for interviews. Bruce didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to hold them off. Lucius had already started giving him the look that meant, you better start answering them or else. Bruce sighed and eventually decided that accepting brunch with Ollie would be the best option. Might as well catch up with an old friend during lunch. He just hoped Oliver didn’t invite Hal and Barry or that the brunch wouldn’t blow up in his face, as these events tended to do.

At the end of the week, they held another team-wide briefing. Superman started them off.
“Alrighty, what have y’all gathered so far?”

Artemis raised her hand, shooting conspirative glances at Zatanna, who was clearly trying not to laugh. Dick groaned internally and braced himself for whatever comment they were about to make about him. Babs was definitely going to record this for blackmail.

“Well, me and Zee have observed that Richard, or Richie as he likes to be called, is not in fact a threat but rather an empty-headed nuisance (ouch!) who thinks his sole purpose in life is flirting with women (and men, if the looks he exchanged with Wally meant anything).”

Clark looked slightly put off but moved on like a pro.
“Uhm, alright, would anyone else like to convey their observations?”

Bart raised his hand.
“Yes, thank you, Bart.”
“So you know how we’re interning at W.E? You know, now that I think about it, W.E. sounds kinda like D.C., you know, because of the two initials thing, which then reminds me of Washington D.C. Did you know they had a branch in Washington? Because I sure didn’t and...”

“Bart,” Tim reminded him while gently shaking his shoulder to calm him down.

“Oh! Right. What was I saying? Well, anyways, we’ve noticed that the rumors about him are true and not. For example, contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t let his assistant do most of the work for him—they are both equally stressed out of their minds. He is pretty cold and ruthless and all that stuff though. They say he was trained by his mom, Janet Drake, who was known as the Ice Dragon for her harsh and efficient ways of handling business. No wonder his poker face is unmovable.”

“Okay! Bart, I think that is enough for now. Would anyone else like to contribute their findings?”

Jon raised his hand. As one of the youngest teams working with the JL, they didn’t often get big jobs like this, so it was disappointing to not get results. Jon looked like a kicked puppy, making Damian’s heart pang with guilt.
“Unfortunately, me and my team weren’t able to gather much information on our suspect, other than Damian Wayne thinks he is royalty just because Bruce Wayne is his dad and, for some reason, is really close with his siblings.”

“That’s alright, Jon. I’m sure that information could come in handy someday,” Diana said calmly.
“Anybody else have something important to contribute?” Clark asked, clearly eager to move on.

Courtney nudged Virgil, who nudged her back. Jeff glared at the two to shut up while Tatsu decided to take the floor. Meanwhile, Duke, Jaime, and Gar were all trying hard to muffle giggles. Cass rolled her eyes at their antics, excited to hear what her teammates thought they had gathered on her.

“Our investigation into Cassandra Cain is proving to be quite futile. Any attempt we made at initiating conversation has been ignored. Though we have been able to note that, for someone so quiet, Cassandra is remarkably close with her siblings. During our observations, we often saw Cassandra being accompanied to and from ballet practice by at least one or more sibling, who often stay to watch her dance. In general, they seem quite encouraging and supportive of her.”

“Hmm. I’m sensing a common trend here. The Waynes seem closer than a pair of well-worn boots.”

“Clark, your country’s showing,” Hal teased lightly.

“Ope, sorry ’bout that!”

Chapter Text

Dick needed help—mentally and physically. Like, he already knew he needed therapy (So do you, Steph!) but even this was a bit much for him.

He was just minding his own business at the grocery store, stocking up on his cabinet essentials. You know, the usual: Tim’s favorite brand of coffee, Damian’s vegan patties, Babs’s specialty donuts, and of course, his favorite sugary cereal—Bat-Bites!

When, lo and behold, he ran into Kaldur and M’gann, who just happened to be shopping at the same store as him. Dick bit down a groan and instead plastered on a smile—the kind that made people think there was nothing but cobwebs in his brain.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry,” M’gann exclaimed as she scrambled to pick up the items that had fallen after she—accidentally—bumped right into him.

“Don’t worry about it, beautiful,” Dick replied, taking a page out of Wally’s book as he bent to grab the remaining bottles of spices he kept in stock just for Jason.

“Oh! Hello, Megan!” M’gann facepalmed. “We keep forgetting to introduce ourselves. I’m M’gann, and this is Kaldur.”

“I apologize for the mess we have created,” Kaldur added. “My girlfriend is, by nature, quite clumsy.”

Dick grimaced, Kaldur and M’gann would make a terrible couple.

“Girlfriend, eh? Well, if you’re ever looking to upgrade that duo to a trio, you know who to call.” Dick said, raising his eyebrow in an attempt to make a suggestive face.

Kaldur’s expression shifted to looking slightly lost—clearly not expecting “Richie Wayne” to get so bold so fast. M’gann was blushing hard, clearly trying to hide her embarrassment at Dick’s comments.

“Uhh... I do not believe that will be necessary,” Kaldur said slowly. “But we will consult you if the need ever arises.”

Dick tried not to laugh at how serious he sounded.

“Well, I’ve got to run, but if you ever decide to add another, my offer still stands,” Dick said, making his way to the checkout line and throwing one last suggestive look over his shoulder.

“W—wait!” M’gann called out. “Before you go, could we at least get your number? You know... in case we ever do need umm... a third?”

Dick stifled a laugh. M’gann was clearly only trying to get his number to advance the mission.

“Anything for you, beautiful,” Dick said, handing over his number and making sure to lightly brush his and M’gann’s hands.

At this point, she was blushing so hard she looked like she might combust.

He sent one last look Kaldur’s way before strolling up to the cashier.

Dick grinned—a real one this time. He loved messing with his friends... but maybe he should lay off M’gann a bit in the future.

He had to swing by the station later anyway. Amy was going to kill him if he was late one more time, and he didn’t want Wally to get even more suspicious just because he was always late.

Dick sighed, M'gann would definitely be telling Nightwing all about this later.

How did he always end up in these types of situations?

Chapter Text

Duke released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He had finally made it to the cafeteria undetected. Granted, as a Bat, that should be easy, but he wasn’t allowed to use any of his training at school—gotta avoid raising suspicions. And Duke was nothing if not a good kid. He’d won “Least Likely to Give Bruce a Headache” two years in a row!

(Which actually wasn’t that hard, now that he thought about it—just don’t almost die every other week, and you’re golden. Cass got disqualified thanks to all the heart attacks she gave Bruce by materializing out of thin air. Otherwise, she was an absolute angel in his eyes.)

Okay, now all he had to do was grab his food and get outta here. Hopefully Izzy wouldn’t be too mad about the wait. Duke looked up in search of the start of the line—

And immediately locked eyes with Gar.

Before Duke could turn away, Gar’s eyes lit up, and he and Jaime rushed over to greet him.

“Duke! Dukey, my man! How you doing?” Gar exclaimed, overly enthusiastic.

“Uhh, you know—the usual,” Duke replied, rubbing the back of his neck nervously to really sell the act.

“Give him a break, Gar. He’s probably still tired from gym,” Jaime reminded him gently.

“What? C’mon, man, it’s pizza day! Lighten up!” Gar yelled.

“And you're sure the pizza isn’t poisoned?” Duke asked meekly, flinching at the sudden volume.

Gar gasped, affronted. “Pizza is sacred—no matter the form or the taste! Now come on, let’s go get our life source!”

“Aye aye, captain,” Jaime added playfully.

They each grabbed one of Duke’s shoulders and steered him toward the start of the cafeteria line. Duke grinned internally.

Time to up the ante.

After getting their pizza, Duke purposefully trips over air, bumping into Gar and Jaime, and succeeding in his plan to send the three pizzas flying.

As expected, Gar immediately jumps into action, using training that no normal civilian should have, to catch all three slices before they hit the ground.

“W—Wow!” Duke stuttered. “Dude...

what was that?”

Gar froze.

So did Jaime.

They locked eyes.

Panic visibly riddled between them.

The looks on their faces were absolutely glorious. It was most definitely  worth almost blowing their cover.

Sure, Duke might somehow be the most normal one in the Batfamily—But the bar was six feet under and on fire, so, not exactly a flex. Besides, Duke was a chaos goblin at his core. After all he’d learnt his trolling ways from Steph and Jason.

“Uhh, y—you know! I just have really, really good reflexes,” Gar finally blurted out after blanking for a whole minute.

Duke shrugged. “If you say so.”

He sniffed the pizza and gagged slightly before heading over to sit with Dax, Riko, Andre, Troy, and Izzy.

“Ugh, still terrible.”

Chapter Text

Whatever Drake said, Damian was not hiding. That would be unfit and cowardly for the true blood son of the Bat. He was merely sitting in the shade with Skylar and Mia, discussing the latest art project they were assigned. If this particular apple tree happened to be tucked away from the rest of the school, that was hardly his fault. What was it Brown was always saying? Right—plausible deniability and all that. One thing’s for sure: he did not expect Jon, Lian, and Colin to find him so quickly. Though he wouldn’t be surprised if they had just resorted to Jon using his X-ray vision. Damian still felt guilty about Jon’s disappointment at the last briefing, so he had resolved to letting them find out some more, albeit useless, information about him.

“Damian,” Jon said, with all the cheer of someone who had never seen death. (He had, which is what made everything ten times weirder.)

“Jonathan,” Damian groused, clearly annoyed at being found.

“What?” Lian snarked. “Not happy to see us?”

Damian folded his arms, lips pressing into a thin line. “No, I’m merely disappointed you interrupted the very interesting conversation between me, Skylar, and Mia.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Damian. Me and Sky were going to play chess in the library anyways,” Mia reassured him.

Damian glared.

“Have fun with your new friends!” Skylar said, clearly excited at the prospect of Damian making more friends, giggling slightly as she and Mia skipped away.

“Soo…  Damian, Real talk—why's your ego so big?” Colin asked. Damian's mouth twitched.

“Colin!” Lian scolded him before bringing her voice down to a whisper. “We’re supposed to be befriending him, remember!”

“Sorry bout him,  I promise he doesn't mean that! He’s just stressed about the art project,” Jon said, frantically waving his hands, trying to change the subject. “Speaking of which, you like art, right?

“Well, I—“ Damian started to speak but was immediately cut off by Jon.

“Is it because of one of your siblings? You’ve got such a cool family!”

“No, ar—” Damian attempted to answer and was once again cut off by Jon.

“You guys are all adopted, right? Do y’all share the same middle and last name?”

Colin snickered. Lian elbowed him. “Shush, this is the interesting part.”

“If you actually allow me to speak,” Damian started, shooting a pointed glare at Jon who apologized sheepishly, “I would tell you that no, we do not share the same last and middle names. My siblings have all chosen to hyphenate their names in order to honor their parent's memories, rather than to take on the Wayne birthright. As the only true heir, my full name is Damian Al Ghul Wayne, preserving my mother’s and father’s legacy.”

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Jon said, bouncing in place. “Hey, wait—doesn’t Al Ghul mean ghoul or something in Arabic?” He cocked his head, eyes wide with curiosity.

A beat.

Lian narrowed her eyes suspiciously “Did you know Al Ghul means ‘demon’ in Arabic?” 

“My mother is Arab,” Damian replied dryly.

.....

They were locked in a staring contest for a solid 90 seconds before Colin attempted to break the tension.

“Anyone else really hate the art teacher? Because I swear, she’s out to get me!”

“She is nothing but a mere peasant,” Damian scoffed. “Father would certainly allow me to acquire a pet goat in order for it to feast upon her papers.”

Damian received three gobsmacked stares after that proclamation.

“Ok so, maybe not that much hate,” Jon chuckled warily.

“That is... way too complicated” Lian drawled.

Colin shook his head profusely.

“Dude, no."

Chapter Text

Steph was having the most fun she’d had in months.

Actually—scratch that.

The prank she’d pulled on Jason with Cass’s help was definitely a better contender for first place.
The look on his face when he realized his bullets had been replaced with rainbow paintballs?

Totally worth the lecture from Bruce afterward.
It had been Pride Month, after all.

And let’s be real—there was no way Jason was straight.
At least now his goons know they’ll be accepted if they ever decide to come out.

Anyways, what was she doing again?

Right!

She’d just finished a study session with Helena, Jess, Cissie, and some other girls on campus, and the trio had offered to walk her home. So here she was leading the three unsuspecting girls through the backstreets of downtown Gotham. Cissie looked on edge and tense—she probably thought that Batman would appear next to her at any second, for the crime of... EXISTING IN HIS CITY!. Oh! The horror!! B was way too paranoid. Meanwhile, Jess kept muttering distractedly about air quality and the amount of pollution. Steph just hoped that she and Dr. Isley never got to meet, or the world might never recover, especially if they somehow got Damian on board.

She shuddered to think about the possibilities.

She would never get to eat bacon for breakfast again!

“So… Stephanie, which type of crowd do you keep these days?” Helena prodded, clearly trying to get information out of Steph.
Unfortunately for her, Steph was Bat-trained—and a natural comedian if she did say so herself.

“Well, you know, the aubergine kind!” Steph replied with a grin that spelled danger.

“Huh, w-what do you mean aubergine?” Jess asked incredulously, snapping out of her stupor.

Steph rolled her eyes mockingly.

“Don’t ya know?! There’s a club for all things purple on campus!”

“Uh-huh, and what would you even do at this all-purple club?” Helena asked, arms crossed.

“Well, obviously we debate the best shade of purple! Which, for your information, is clearly eggplant! The color of mystery, royalty, and also my favorite hoodie.””

“That’s like the fifth time you’ve mentioned that stupid color!!” Cissie exclaimed, raising her hands in exasperation.

 Steph waved dismissively,

“No, silly, It’s only the third!”

This was, in fact, the seventh time Steph had managed to successfully redirect their conversation to the best shade of purple—which, in her opinion, was absolutely hilarious.

“Alright, we’re almost here!” Steph said finally, stopping in front of a brick wall.

“We just have to cross this wall and we’ll reach my place.”

“Uh-huh, and how do you plan on getting across this wall?” Cissie asked, scanning the surrounding area with narrowed eyes, searching for a ladder.

“Duhh! By climbing!” Steph replied as if it was obvious.

Judging by their looks, it probably was not. Steph rolled her eyes.

“What? A girl ain’t allowed to have hobbies now?” she joked.

“I didn’t know hobbies involved scaling random buildings,” Helena replied dryly.

Steph waved her hand dismissively. “I grew up in Crime Alley; this is a regular Tuesday for me. Now come on, we don’t have all day! Do you know how many papers I have left to write?”

Steph quickly scaled the wall, inciting the other three to follow her as well.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” she said as she showed them around her bright purple student dorm.

"Don't tell me" Helena deadpanned, "The walls are eggplant purple too?"

Steph scoffed. "Obviously!"

“Now”—her eyes glinted maniacally—“Who. Wants. WAFFLES?”

Jess raised her hand timidly, clearly still under the impression that Steph was possessed by a waffle- and glitter-loving demon.

“Umm… are the waffles vegetarian?”

Steph laughed. “’Course they are! Who puts meat in their waffles!?”

Jess shrugged. “Who knows what goes on in Gotham?”

“Besides, let me guess,” Cissie started with her hands on her hips, “Adding meat would be a crime to the sacred cult of waffles.”

Steph nearly cackled as she removed her edible purple glitter from the pantry.

“See! Cissie gets it!”

... 

"wAIT where'd I put my purple blueberry syrup!!?"

(Steph hates blueberries)