Batfam Week Day 3 - Wayne Gala
Written last because I totally stalled at this. I had titled the original file as 'Suits' and then left it alone. Hence my thinking suits was the prompt and ended up writing 'Repairs' (-_-;)
Not entirely satisfied with this but hmm, maybe next time...
"Really now, Master Damian. You shouldn't be embarrassed by this." Alfred looked at the boys in near exasperation. "Master Duke is also a novice. Now stop scowling at him and at your partner."
"Tt." Damian still scowled.
"Yeah. Think instead about how much blackmail material you're giving me." Jason was right next to Alfred, phone in hand as he recorded his brothers dancing. Or their attempts anyway.
"Really Jason?" Duke asked, eyes pointedly fixed at the phone. He just knew nothing good would come of it.
"What? I can't attend (thank god). So let me have some fun here Alfie."
"You're not attending only because you broke your leg running away from the news that you aren't dead to the world anymore," Tim said. He smirked, continuing, "Where'd all that assassin grace go now eh, Hood?"
"Shut it, replacement. At least I'm not the one dancing the girls part."
Tim looked like he wanted to drop Damian's hands and lunge at Jason but Alfred's warning cough stopped him. So instead, Tim growled at Damian.
"I can't believe Talia never had you learn to dance."
"I was soon to start lessons I'm sure but it had never been important then," Damian replied with his own growl.
Alfred resisted the urge to sigh. The gala was approaching soon. He could only hope that they'd make it before then.
...
"How about this one?"
"Uhm."
"Right. Too dark. Let's try this one."
"Uhm."
"Hmm. You're right. It's a little too poofy."
Barbara watched as Steph placed the pink dress back on the rack and move to the next set of clothes. She watched as Steph also continued her one-sided conversation with Cass who had yet to say anything other than "Uhm."
As Babs stayed where she'd parked her wheelchair, she couldn't help but marvel at how Steph was so in tune with Cass' less than stellar repertoire of words.
They'd been to three shops already looking for the "perfect knock out" dress that would put the "Wayne boytoys" to shame. Barbara had felt like face palming herself when she'd met up with Steph and Cass on this "mission."
She could only hope it was worth it. Cass rarely attended galas but this one was special so she had to be there.
"Oooh! I think this one would be perfect for partying."
Great. Now Steph was getting sidetracked. She just knew she'd make Cass buy the dress. Just like they'd bought other admittedly cute little numbers from the previous shops.
Cass had Bruce's card and he'd said they could buy whatever. Big mistake to have Steph hear it. But oh well. Live and learn, right?
And all they'd bought really had been too good to pass up. Even if they weren't exactly gala material.
Alfred looked down at his watch and gave a nod to himself.
Three hours. It had only taken three hours. Three hours and three minutes and thirty seconds.
All those threes were a coincidence but it did give reading the time a nice ring to it.
Alfred ushered the last bewildered guest out the manor doors and into their waiting car. He remained down the steps to make sure that they did leave the grounds and not take a sudden detour. The boys had been drafted to make sure the staff had exited properly as well.
He was quite sure all of Gotham was a twitter. And that not a one of his family actually minded it.
Jason could not believe Bruce was doing this to him. The gala was supposed to be about celebrating something something or thanking this or that.
NOT welcoming him back to Gotham (more precisely, the legal land of the living). How Alfred even had a suit tailored for him was beyond him. And! He was stuck in a wheelchair with no means of escape.
They'd planned this!
Well, maybe not his breaking his leg but they sure took clear advantage of it!
He was totally fine in becoming the Wayne cryptid. Ever since his injuries from saving a child from a car crash last month. And then having Bruce Wayne visit him at the hospital (honestly, what had he been thinking?) and then subsequent visits from the rest of the family, it kind of made it super hard to not become an object of curiousity.
Jason had easily given in to moving to the manor while still bedridden. There were only so many times his nurses and doctors end up becoming reporters in disguise. And only so many times to rely on his panic button instead of making said reporters acquainted with his fist. (Dick was so proud.)
Jason looked down at the speech handed over to him. Oh goodness gracious. He had to give a fricking speech.
His earlier attempt at leaving had been stopped by a blockade of his siblings and damned polite society. And then his next one at the french doors were stopped by hired security (What the frick B? Who the hell hired the Justice League as security guards? Even though it was the noobs. And in disguise. Overkill B. Overkill!)
His final attempt at leaving had been thwarted by Alfred himself. One raised eyebrow and he did an about face and a U-turn with his wheelchair.
It was knowing that Alfred was watching that he didn't ad lib his speech. Thank you for coming. Blah blah blah. So glad to finally be free to be myself. Blah blah blah. Helping with the hero community blah blah blah under witness protection was blah blah serving my humanity blah blah deeply saddened to have left. Really glad to be here blah blah blah.
His only addition had been his carefully worded request that the media respect their, especially his privacy as it would take some time getting used to be a Wayne again. Thank you.
What he'd really wanted to say was for them to fuck off and leave him alone. But Babs had given him a look and gave him the new lines. She was the all knowing Oracle so she'd already had it prepared.
After going around once, greeting people stiffly and shaking hands only a little too firmly, Jason parked himself next to Babs and, feigning fatigue, had been mostly left alone with her.
Good god. He was already bored.
And it had only been an hour in.
...
Tim had to give himself a pat on the back. It had been his idea to turn the gala into a welcome party. There were only a few ways to make sure Jason would have no choice but to attend his own party.
Sympathetic as he was to having a broken leg (he had first hand experience after all), Tim was not above subterfuge when it came to his older brother. It had been a good excuse to get revenge and to, surprisingly, bond with their youngest.
He and Damian had pretended to accompany Duke and have dancing lessons that week just to occupy Jason's mind and have him not notice the changes they'd done to the gala's objective.
He'd already erased all evidence of the lessons while Jason had been bullied into putting on his suit and lead into the party by Alfred.
Jason's face upon realization of what they'd done was so worth it. He and Damian were still smiling over it. Now they just had to actually get through the party and then no more stress from all of this.
Damian had not meant to drink the wine. He had been distracted by certain guests hanging a little too close onto their silverware. Surely they weren't going to steal from a Wayne?
Narrowing his eyes at them, he didn't notice that he'd reached for the alcohol the waiter had mistakenly placed too close to his glass of grape juice.
After knocking back the drink and promptly choking on it, he ignored the sudden Are you alrights around him and began coughing. He also tried to ignore the sudden warmth that traveled down his throat and then seemed to spread throughout his chest and up to his ears. He could, however, already feel himself flushing.
...
Bruce stared at his youngest. He didn't have to do more than stand before Alfred was there. Giving a nod, the butler took the empty wine glass and signaled for a waiter. Bruce sat back down.
He was going to wish he hadn't when Damian suddenly gave a shout as soon as Alfred had his back turned.
"Unhand the silverware, thief!"
"Dami!"
"Oh this is gonna be good."
"Jason. Stop recording."
"What? Injured right here. Can't exactly do anything else."
"Send me a copy later, will you?"
"Steph..."
"Right. Let me and Cass roll you two away."
"Get me closer. This phone is cheap ass till B gets me a new one."
"Jason..."
"Barbie..."
"Guys! Help."
"I'm gonna get killed. Here goes."
Dick wasn't sure what happened. But he did know one thing from this escapade.
Duke was officially his favourite brother. He was the only one who helped him drag Damian off their guest -who really had been stealing the silverware. (That was sure to make the entertainment news instead of regular).
He really didn't want to know or see what all of Gotham had to say. So he'd declared a giant no to watching the news or reading the paper. No social media even. And then he promptly told them that the rest of the day was gonna movie-bonding day (ignoring as always their groans of protest).
It was time to marathon Disney. As he had been hoping them all to do for so long. Jason was parked by the sofa. Damian was grounded and not allowed to train. Tim was just done so he just slumped into the loveseat with Cass patting him on the head. Steph had stayed over so she was on one end of the sofa. Giggling with Jason over his phone. He was sure they were watching the video again. He'd asked Babs to cut off their connection so he was at least assured Jason wouldn't be posting the video. Duke was helping him line up the movies in order of release date.
Bruce had opted to sleep in. The headache that were his children was too much.
Bruce only ever acted old when they did something, so Dick was sure he was totally faking it.
It didn't matter though. Alfred would get him before the end of Cinderella.
No real shenanigans…sorry. Day 6b, Entertainment News will sorta make a reference to this fic tho...just saying...
