A/N: This goes in the same universe as 11:59. It's a future fic basically. Just something stuck in my head.
The thing about Laurel was if someone told her when she was little girl that she'd be living a house that was full of boys she would have laughed in their face. Well, it wasn't entirely filled with boys. Not when Steph was a regular visitor as her relationship with Tim progressed, and Cass was there, still doing her best to learn English so the conversation was not as stimulating as it could have been. Teaching Cass did manage to help break her away from the boys, but they were still everywhere.
All the time.
When she was younger she pictured a much different life for herself. For one, she was hopelessly in love with Oliver and was one hundred percent certain he was the love of her life. The only thing that panned out as she thought it would when she was that age was her becoming a lawyer. Everything else was flipped on it's head.
Not that she would change anything about it.
Maybe, in some ideal world, she'd get more sleep...her and Bruce would both get more sleep. Not that the lack of sleep was going to stop her from giving up her career, because yes, it was just as much a career as her being a lawyer was, of being the Black Canary of Gotham, along with the others that had made names for themselves over the years.
It was home and it was family. She wasn't changing wither.
Alfred was easily her favorite, second to Bruce. They could talk and it was really the only sense of normalcy she had. Nothing was normal about the Wayne household otherwise. They could talk about shows, books, general life tales, and she even learned how to cook a few things she'd of never dared to try otherwise. Teasing both Bruce and the boys was easily the fondest pastime, and he made her feel like she had a dad again. In a weird way. Without all of the baggage and the fact that he was…not much like her dad. Either way, she loved Alfred and was grateful for him.
Dick and Jason were mostly good…decent, really. They had their ways about them, but she knew way too much about Dick from Barbara to really ever look at him in a completely normal way. Girls shared and while she loved that, there was just absolutely no way she could look at Dick the same way Bruce did. A reason she elected to never share, even when she had this horrible habit of just talking until he stopped her. It's not that she even particularly chatty, it was just that Bruce was that quiet.
Jason was about as far gone as Bruce was, and somehow, it made her closer to him. Neither male would actually let her compare them, and she was no psychologist, but it was definitely deeper. Jason was one she could sit with and just listen. She'd turned into a Gotham girl and sometimes his stories did nothing more than amuse her, which judging by the looks he gave was not the idea. Putting Jason and Dick in the same room for too long, without supervision, however, could all too easily end up a disaster. Only one time did they break the way too expensive vase that Laurel's humble upbringing made her stand in horror.
"No one died, Laurel." Was all Bruce said as walked back down to the batcave.
Tim and Damian were the two who tested her patience the most. She began to wonder what silence was like. True silence. Where she could just sit and collect her thoughts. Given her thoughts were as dangerous as they'd ever been, probably more so given that she tended to worry about roughly seven more people.
That week only two were truly testing her patience.
Laurel understood teenaged angst and she also understood the feeling of being rejected by your own mother. Even her and Sara had their moments...a lot. At least Damian was too young to really do anything with Steph...small miracles.
Two fights and one 'you're not my mother' later she came to the realization that it was hardly going to resolve itself. No, she was definitely not the mother of any of them, but she was the closest thing they had to one, and that was enough for her.
Only her master plan was…flawed, at best. She knew it was a long shot and it had just a barely inch of working, but really, it was favorable for all, even if it blew up in her face. Better than what everyone else was coming up with, which was absolutely nothing.
Every kid wanted a dog, didn't they? She knew she did as a little girl but that ended a little too quickly. The best she got was a stuffed one she named Silver and went about her days. Her dad secretly taught her the ropes of being a cop in his spare time, and in truth, that was more useful than learning to take care of a puppy.
The boys already knew how to take care of themselves, far more than any kids their age could. Little mini mes of Bruce that she couldn't help but smile at when they were sparring with him and each other on the mat.
In the middle of the night when both her and Bruce were too tired to exist properly she ran the idea past him, and the grunt of approval was all she needed. That afternoon work ended early. She didn't have a case until the next day and could easily prep at home, if the boys didn't murder each other first. The poor little defenseless pup that she got from the pound, because no self respecting person, in love with a billionaire or not, was going to buy a dog.
Much to her surprise all of the boys were home when she stepped through the door, minus Bruce, who was probably hidden away in the cave. Dick and Jason were already aware of her little plan. Dick advised her against it, while Jason wanted to see the fallout. At her expense, she was sure.
"Are you certain this is one of the better ideas?" Alfred asked as she moved to the counter, leaning against it as she watched the hoard of children living in the Wayne household approach.
"No," Laurel responded, crossing her arms. "But I haven't been sure of anything since arriving in Gotham. It's all turned out. This will, too."
She hoped.
All of them seemed to enjoy the dog, including a Cass who moved from her room to see the commotion, letting out a giggle as he licked her face.
"See." She turned to Alfred with a smile. "It'll work out."
She broke through the little crowd of people until she was kneeling in front of Tim and Damian, petting the dog who was clearly enjoying every bit of attention. Time to see if her little, poor, very poor the more she thought about it, plan would work.
"You two have to decide on a name together. He's your dog. Both of yours."
"Rocket." Tim said.
"Titus." Damian countered, giving the older male a glare.
"That's a terrible name." Tim ignored and put his full attention on the little creature who settled in his lap.
"Let us ask father what he thinks."
"No." Laurel shook her head. "You two have to decide together and if you can't I get to name him." Laurel paused, thinking of a name that was horrid. "Snickerdoodle. If you don't name him I'm naming him Snickerdoodle."
"No." Tim and Damian said together. The first thing they agreed on in forever, probably.
"Why do we have a dog?" Bruce came and raised his eyebrow with the question.
Laurel put on her best smile, standing and moving over to him.. Without her heels on the height difference was felt and she felt near tiny next to him. "It's their dog."
"You were serious?"
"You didn't say no. I'm impulsive." Her shoulders shrugged and she still wasn't the best at reading him. He'd never been truly mad at her before. Maybe the time she was too reckless with her life and almost got herself killed….more concern than true anger.
"I'm aware." Was all he said as he kneeled carefully inspected it. "What his name?"
"Titus. Rocket." Both boys said, respectively.
"Snickerdoodle." Laurel smiled.
Bruce looked back at her. "That's awful."
"She's trying to prove a point." Dick said as he stole on the cookies Alfred made.
"I'm just here for the show." Jason looked over at Laurel. "Sorry, Lady Di. Bad idea. Could give them a million each and they'd still be fighting."
Laurel refused to admit Jason was probably right so she simply didn't. It was exactly two hours and twenty six minutes before they decided on Batdog…which in Laurel's opinion was terrible and most likely fake. The thing was when they came to either her or Bruce with those mischievous looks on their faces she knew they were being played.
But Bruce and Alfred both smiled so she went along with it. Batdog, while Titus was what Damian chose, and Rocket was what Tim chose. If it helped them get along then she wasn't going to push it. She was going to take her peace.
It was later that night when she was just in from patrol and heard Damian's voice calling after 'Titus' who was running away with his shoe did she get her confirmation.
"Now they'll fight over the dog." Bruce said as he entered the room after her.
"More attention for the dog."
"Admit it."
"What?"
Bruce wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him. "That your plan is as bad as mine."
"Maybe we should just stick them in a room with Jason and see what happens."
"Alfred."
"We should have done that in the first place." Laurel resigned and wondered how that didn't happen. Probably because even Alfred could only get them to behave for a few days at a time. Better than nothing.
"Why didn't you change down there?"
"I wanted to check on the boys and the dog and now I'm trapped. It's terrible really."
"Oh, I'm sure." The whisper barely audible. "Take your costume off, Black Canary. Leave the boots on."
Suddenly there were far more interesting things on her mind.
It was four days before the next fight broke out. Laurel managed to be relatively calm until the living room became a warzone and their fight extended to the table where was working on opening a Gotham version of the CNRI, her paperwork ended up under a mess of coffee. The dog then started barking and both boys were both hitting each other. Granted not as hard as they could, but enough to make her having quite the mess of the time pulling them apart.
"What are you two fighting over?"
Both looked down and over to the dog.
"Tim is turning the mutt against me."
Laurel had to do everything she could to not laugh. It was so utterly ridiculous she could barely keep it together.
"It's not my fault no one likes you."
"Tim." Bruce scolded as he walked into the room.
"Go walk the dog." Laurel suggested, trying to clean up the coffee on the table.
"I'll do it!" Both boys said together.
Bruce looked between them, "Together."
"I am not going with him." Damian crossed his arms.
"Fine by me."
"Together."
That time they knew there was no use in fighting against him so they raced to find the leash, knocking each other until Damian got the leash.
"I'm better." Damian taunted with ease.
"Cheater."
"I have skill you cannot have."
Laurel held up the leaking papers with the smeared ink and the brown stain that was already setting in. "If they come back with the dog I'll be surprised."
"How's it going?"
"Before or after the coffee, because I do think it's better now."
"I can help."
"No," Laurel shook her head. "I want to do this on my own. I know your name will always be there, but if I can prove I'm more than riding on the Wayne name."
"You don't have to prove anything."
Laurel thought it was sweet but knew how wrong he was. "One time when my dad was drunk he called me a gold digger, and before you say anything, I know people say things when drunk. I've been there. But when your three serious relationships are all with billionaires it's easy to question yourself."
Bruce took the papers she had in her hand and put them down, grabbing her hand. "I know you don't care about the money and you're anything but a gold digger. Anyone who thinks otherwise isn't worth it, and a lot of people are not worth it. Don't worry about Damian and Tim so much. They'll be okay."
"I love you."
"Get a room." Steph interrupted and made a face.
Laurel rolled her eyes and leaned up to kiss Bruce anyway.
"Now that I've been victimized in your home, where's Tim?"
"He'll be back in a few minutes." Bruce answered and promptly took his leave.
"You can't run away every time Steph comes over."
"I don't."
But then he was going downstairs and the door opened to have a muddy dog run in the house with a visibly upset Damian. Laurel knew she wasn't going to like the answer so she simply didn't ask. Not that time.
Steph's laugh along with Alfred's clear judgement were enough for that evening.
Her plan comes to a final fail when the dog takes to Bruce of all people. Bruce, quiet, calm, sits and pets the dog Bruce, one who is hardly as energetic as two boys chasing after him. Doesn't even like Laurel that much, which only made her stand with her arms crossed, just like the boys.
She swears Bruce smiled as the trio stood there and Alfred became the second favorite. She should have tried to give the little guy treats, but didn't think of that. Instead she spent the last three days trying to get the dog to warm up to her, and Cass decided the dog didn't interest her that much anymore.
"We should exchange him." Damian glared at his father and looked up to Laurel.
"Or exchange you." Steph's smirk was clear on her face as she sat on the opposite chair.
Laurel grew rather protective of Steph once she fell pregnant and chose to give her child up for adoption. Her own mother was not quite in the position to look after her in the way she deserved, and her father was one no one should ever have. Even with all of that she had to wonder about some of the thoughts that ran through her mind and where she came up with some of the things. She couldn't quite tell if Tim and her were balancing out each other, or corrupting one another...fairly, at least.
Easily Laurel took hold of Damian's arm as he moved for her. He might have been strong, but he was still quite young.
"Let me go. I wasn't going to do anything."
When she let go of his arm he sat down on the couch next to Bruce, attempting to pet the dog who just nipped at him. At least before he snuggled up next to him and rested his head on Damian's thigh. Must be something in that Wayne blood.
"Door open," she called as Tim took Steph's hand and disappeared.
"You and father don't keep your door open." Damian mused, looking between both of them.
Alfred leaned into the youngest Wayne then, "No one wishes to see that, Master Damian. In that you'll have to trust me."
Bruce's barely there smirk Laurel came to recognize only causes her to run her hands over her face like she's a teenager getting caught by Oliver's mom again. Somehow Alfred was so much worse, even all that time later.
That was the last night things remained as they knew it.
Really, they all knew better than to get comfortable, but that was exactly what they did. They found a relative happiness and it was as if the universe decided they needed to be shook up for one reason or another.
It was Bruce that told her of Stephanie's death and it was Bruce that held her for the few moments she allowed herself to grieve. Tim locked himself in his room instantly and Cass took it the hardest, so hard Laurel could barely contain her most of the time.
The night of the funeral Laurel hadn't even changed out of her black dress, just as Tim hadn't bothered to change out of his suit, as he sat down next to her on the couch, putting his head on her shoulder. Cass on the opposite side of her nearly huddled in herself, but taking advantage of the comfort Laurel brought.
All of them sat in the living room together, the darkness from the multiple flatscreens fitting the somber mood of the room. When Damian stood with the pup in his arms did Laurel look at Bruce, who simply shrugged his shoulders. Really, it was not the night for their bickering. She wasn't sure Tim would beat Damian to a bloody pulp if he said or did the wrong thing out of nothing more than sheer grief of losing his girlfriend.
"Rocket will make you feel better." Damian said softly, in a tone none of them thought capable, sitting on the ground in front of the couch.
"Titus is a better name." Tim spoke only as Titus licked at his hand.
Laurel would always think it was that moment that solidified them as brothers, even if neither of them would dare admit to it. The one moment where they could put their differences aside and act like two who genuinely care. For all the moments she thought she hated Sara...she never did, not truly.
Her own family, the one she shared with Bruce, deserved to share that just as much as anyone.