AN: I do not own any DC characters mentioned.
This was written for fun and is supposed to be humorous. Please forgive any inaccuracies made and ooc-ness. Enjoy!
Sorry for uploading this twice, I had the wrong document on here at first!
7:30 a.m., 30 minutes until Pennyworth's customary wake up call. Damian Wayne opened his eyes seconds before the silent vibrating alarm gave off under his pillow. The boy's hands worked to switch the alarm off in automatic mechanical motions. He silently padded his way to the desk across the room, sinking into the lush black leather of the chair. Young nimble fingers pressed the power button on the sleek state of the art desktop.
The glow of the monitor is the only source of light as Damian's hands flew across the keys. A sadistically pleased smile bloomed across the ten-year-old's face. Really Grayson makes this too easy. But it was to be expected. After all, not everyone could meet his unmatched level of genius. The computer screen displayed another firewall collapsing. Yet, it was so quaint of Grayson to try—
Damian opened up the virus he installed specifically to catch and block emails on Grayson's computer. His smile grew as a window popped up on the monitor. "Do you want to permanently delete all 15 messages from Timothy Drake?"
The young Wayne frowned momentarily at the sheer number of number of messages Drake sent since the last little deletion session. Seems like the fanatical fanboy just never gives up. His frown morphed into a sneer as he hit the "YES" button without at second thought, completing the morning routine.
Such a nuisance.
Two hours later Dick and Damian sat across from each other, on their small round breakfast table, eating the spread that Alfred laid out for them.
Dick flipped a page in the newspaper, bacon halfway into his mouth, when he snorted and passed the paper to the boy. "It looks like last night's thug tried to look cool for his photo shoot with Batman and Robin."
The child's eyes took in the image of the petty thief posing in for the camera as the famous duo was sweeping down on him from above. "I wasn't aware the fool had enough brain cells to rub together to even try." Damian scoffed.
"Pardon the interruption, Master Richard, Master Damian. Master Timothy has arrived." Alfred said, leading the exasperated young man into the dining area.
"Alfred, you don't have to introduce me, you know." Tim said.
"Speaking of fools—" Damian muttered in greeting.
"Good morning to you too Damian. Hey Dick." Tim smiled as Dick gestured for him to take a seat at the table.
"-tt-" Pushing away his food in disgust and crossing his arms, Damian made little noises of protest as Tim pulled out the chair in between the youngest Wayne and Dick.
"Hey Dick, did you get that information I emailed to you?" Tim began while buttering one of the freshly made pieces of toast that Alfred had set in front of him. "Thanks Alfred."
Dick put down the mug he was drinking from, and gave Tim a quizzical look. "What information Tim?"
"Are you serious? I sent you it just last night." Tim said as his face took on a skeptical expression born from being on the receiving end of Dick's teasing numerous of times.
"Well I didn't get it this morning and I just checked my inbox around an hour ago. Maybe you're sending it to the wrong address? Or you forgot to hit the send button?" Dick said, listing the most obvious possible reasons for Tim puzzling missing email.
"Or there could be some sort of interference. Since, now that you mention it, there are several items that you haven't responded to from weeks ago." He replied, eying the small Wayne who apparently got over his previous disgust and was polishing off his plat of eggs.
"Not that I'm unwilling to witness more tales of Drake's mindboggling incompetence but I'm going to start my warm up. I suggest you join me Grayson after telling Pennyworth to dispose of this morning's trash." Damian rose from his seat, gesturing at the table but locking eyes with Tim as he spoke.
Dick nodded absentmindedly and watched Damian retreat in the direction of the basement elevator with blue eyes that gleamed with a mischievousness that should have been trademarked Dick Grayson. "Sorry about that, we're working on his interpersonal people skills."
"Oh I can tell. I was here for15 minutes and he hasn't tried to attack, maim, or kill me—yet."
"Hey! It is progress." Dick said, getting up and beginning to double check that Damian had left their floor. Tim watched him with a mildly confused look. When he was sure that the coast was clear, Dick started to make wide gestures to follow him down the hall and into his office. Getting up to join him, Tim just had to ask, "What's going on?"
"Don't you want to talk about that stolen lab chemical case you emailed?" Dick said as he sat down in front of the large computer screen.
"Wait didn't you say that you didn't get the message?" Tim asked as he watched Dick's fingers begin to fly over the keys, making several windows pop up and down so fast that he could barely read what was written on them. Dick didn't answer the inquiry as he continued his task with an ease that suggested he had done this many times before.
Finally, a window popped up displaying all of Tim's last messages. Dick stopped typing and turned to him. Clearly amused, the corners of his lips were twitching so hard he was nearly grinning.
"Those are the emails. My emails" Tim muttered, beginning to piece together what exactly was going on with the so called 'missing' messages.
"Yes they are." Dick couldn't resist smiling.
"But you said…"
"Damian likes to delete them, he put a program, a virus really, that sort of hides them until he can go over them and get rid of them. I figured it out fairly early and installed this 'net' that backs them up before he deletes the originals." Dick Grayson was definitely smiling widely now.
Tim was having a hard time figuring out how exactly he wanted to phrase his incredulity at Dick's amusement. "Why haven't you…?"
"Stopped it? Because he did some really neat work tricking the system to think that his program is not a virus. It seemed like a shame to destroy it when he's just harmlessly messing around." Dick reasoned.
"Yeah, only harmless because it's at my expense." Tim intoned. Dick opened and closed his mouth, looking like he was fishing hard for a good a protest to Tim's accusation.
"That's not the half of it Master Timothy." Alfred interrupted from the doorway, duster in hand as he paused in his cleaning to chime in. "I'm afraid Master Richard has turned this into some form of diversion."
"What?"
"Alfred! It's not like that Tim, I just—I like to try to catch him deleting the files and I may have installed a program on his computer that alerts me to when he accesses his 'Drake Snatcher'."
" 'Drake Snatcher?' " Tim's eyebrow raised at what he assumed was Damian's virus's name.
Dick winced, "He's learning."
"Alfred, how many times a day does this game happen?" Tim asked.
Alfred ignored Dicks adamantly shaking head. "More times than is healthy Master Timothy."
Tim was just caught staring between the displayed messages and Dick's obvious glee. "You know, this is one really sick game the two of you play." He said before leaving Dick and Damian's apartment soon after. Despite a weak protest, it was made abundantly clear that nothing would stop Dick now that he deemed Damian's disturbingly possessive actions as harmless and fun for both parties.
They didn't even get to talk about the case—the very reason he visited. Tim felt the beginning pangs of a headache blooming between his brows. He didn't know why he thought his opinion would deter this madness, if anything he could have sworn that Dick's grin only widened as he was leaving.