"It's All In the Tone"

(NB: This is a bit of a tribute to Rubylis' story "Blackbirds," which made me consider a pairing I'd never thought of before.)

Teeth flashing, Oliver maneuvered his way across the crowded room, dodging the director of the Red Cross and two state senators. "Bruce, you old so-and-so, where have you been?" You and my son were supposed to be back from that mission two days ago, damn it. I was worried.

"Ollie, great to see you. Sorry I didn't call, but you know how it is." I'm busy, you know. I thought Connor called you.

"Yes, I guess I do." We'll let it go this time.

Bruce smiled slowly. "So, I've been hearing some rumors about you." Don't fuck with me, Oliver.

"Really? I hope there were lots of beautiful women involved." I don't care what you've heard.

"Something like that. A little bird told me you've been spending time in Bludhaven. What could so interest you in that hell-hole?" If you're going anywhere near my son, we're going to have a little talk in private.

Oliver choked, taking a sip of champagne to clear his throat. "You know, the usual. I was invited to help out with a few things." Dick asked me to come.

"Well, maybe you should stick with Star City," Bruce said, pausing to greet an elderly matron. He turned back. "After all, I'm sure you have your hands full there." What, you've already slept with everyone in your town?

"Yes, but some cases are special." Dick is special.

"I agree, which is why I would argue they should be left alone." Bruce's smile got wider. Keep your hands off him.

"Perhaps we should leave it up to the people of Bludhaven." As long as he wants me there, I'm going.

They were interrupted by applause at the door as some movie star entered to great hullabaloo. Both men clapped politely, feigning attention although neither could recall the celebrity's name or claim to fame. The noise died down finally and Oliver took another sip of champagne.

"Perhaps," he said, "you should talk to your contacts in Bludhaven instead of me." If you're so worried about Dick, see if he's unhappy.

"Oh, I will, believe me. I'm sure I have information they might find helpful." He and I will be having a long conversation about your sexual habits, bad track record of relationships, and famous infidelity.

"I think you'll find that my faults are well-known and not an impediment." Jesus, do you think he doesn't know all the stories about me? For some reason, he doesn't mind.

Bruce turned away, his smile faltering. "I know you think I'm interfering, Oliver, but Bludhaven is...very close to Gotham." He's my son. You know how that feels.

"Bludhaven needs all the help it can get." Oliver tugged at his goatee. "And I find myself strangely compelled to stay involved." Bruce, I'm not screwing around this time.

"I'll be keeping an eye out for trouble." Hurt him and I will rip you limb from limb.

"Please do." I'd expect nothing less.

The two men stared at each other, wanting to say things plainly, but constrained by their crowded surroundings. Bruce tugged irritably at the collar of his jacket. "In that case, I'm sure we both have other things to be doing." But don't think I'm forgetting this.

Oliver held out his hand. "It's been most illuminating speaking with you, Bruce." I'm sorry we didn't tell you first.

Bruce eyed the hand, but couldn't refuse to shake it in public. "Indeed. I've certainly learned a great deal." But this isn't over.

"I hope this is cause for discussion for many years to come." I mean it, Bruce. I'm serious.

"We'll see." I'm calling Dick tonight. Bruce nodded and turned, a fake smile lighting up his face. "Joanie, darling, how wonderful to see you here!"

Oliver wiped sweat off his forehead as he returned to maintaining his own philanthropist facade.

Nearby, the Gotham Gazette gossip columnist scratched his head as he considered the conversation he'd just overhead. "What the heck was that all about?" he wondered.

--end--