Dick Grayson looked through the windscreen up at the dark clouds, threatening rain.

God, he thought, did daytime ever come to Gotham?

"You'll get used to it, kid," Jim assured him, following his line of sight. "Soon you'll forget the sun altogether."

Dick grinned. "Vitamin D supplements must be big business here, huh?"

Jim Gordon, commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department, gave him an appraising look. Officer Grayson was lean, with messy black hair covering his head. He leg was jiggling incessantly, indicative of the energy and childlike behaviour he was famous for. His eyes, though- so bright they almost pierced the dark- betrayed his intelligence and wisdom.

Gordon had been surprised when he'd heard about the transfer. Grayson had an impeccable record, sure, and a reputation that was basically a fluff piece. He'd had the chance to go anywhere- but Gotham?

A normal cop wouldn't even think about it, let alone one who had a history with this place like Grayson.

"Is that it?"

Gordon blinked, shocked out of his daze. He realised he was just pulling up into the Police Department's garage, swerving into the narrow entrance.

"Yeah, it is," he replied. "Look different from Bludhaven's department, huh?"

"Everything looks different here," the younger man mused, staring with wide eyes.

They got out of the car just as the first few raindrops started to fall. It soon grew to a drizzle, and then to a downpour, so fast that they had only a few minutes before it was basically torrential. They ran quickly into the welcome shelter of the building, as thunder sounded in the distance.

"Wow," Grayson remarked. "Is the weather like this all the time?"

Gordon laughed. "Only if it's a day ending in y. You wanna go first?"

"Uh... are they nice?"

The commissioner mulled this over. Nice? Sure, as any cop who'd seen the worst could be, he supposed. But 'nice' and 'corrupt' often go hand-in-hand, as Gordon knew all too well.

"Only if you're nice to them," he finally replied.

"Ok then," Grayson said, pausing as if to gather confidence.

He took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Jason Todd took a drag of his cigarette.

He casually put his feet up on the table, leaning his head against the heel of his palm. Black Mask slammed his hands on the desk.

"Hood! Are you listening?"

"Mmm? No, not really. What did you say again?"

Black Mask sighed and pinched the space where his nose used to be. Usually, he wouldn't associate himself with someone so young, not to mention aggravating. But Red Hood had a reputation for being successful and for asking little-to-no questions, which to Black Mask was a win-win situation.

If only he wasn't so goddamn annoying.

"I need you to take the commissioner out," he reiterated with a twitch of his eye. "He's been too close to exposing my little operation here, and for some reason refuses to be bought out. I'll show him who he's messing with!"

Red Hood snorted. "Ok, ok, save the bad guy monologue for later. I want my money."

"You'll get your money," Black Mask seethed, "after you bring Gordon's head to me."

Jason stiffened, bringing his legs down from the table. "Do you think I'm an idiot? Cash now, or the head I'll have will be yours."

"And do you think I'm a doormat? You are inside my building, with my guards all around you. I don't think you want to piss me off."

Red Hood grumbled slightly, but stayed silent.

"Now, you will have your money if you pull it off. Or the deal is off."

"...Fine."

Jason clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. He didn't like it, but there was no other choice. He needed that money, and he needed it quick.

"So," he said, trying to mask his discomfort. "When are we going to start?"

"It goes down tonight."

Tim Drake sighed, staring forlornly at the skyscrapers sprawling before the giant window.

He hated these 'bring your kids to work' days. His father always just left him to wander around the wide expanses of Drake Industries, meandering through corridor after corridor. The secretaries were always smiling when he entered the room, which was just as creepy as it sounded. He had half a mind to just jump out of this window- the few seconds he would spend falling would've had more excitement than the rest of his life.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by rambunctious laughter, as his father and his colleagues started towards him.

"That's when I said, 'hey, isn't that your wife?'"

Another chorus of nasally chortles. Tim rolled his eyes discreetly- his father never seemed to run out of terrible jokes, and his 'homies' never seemed to get enough.

"Hey there, Timbo!"

"Hi, dad."

"Aw, hey there, little guy," one of the men said. He crouched down to be eye level with Tim, which Tim didn't get, considering he wasn't that much shorter than him. "My name's James. You must be little Timmy."

Tim stared at him. "I'm fifteen."

James threw his head back and roared with laughter, as if it were a joke. "Jack, you've got a real gem there."

"Don't I know it. Say, why don't you tell them about the football match last week?"

"Dad," Tim mumbled, slightly blushing, "I didn't even play. I was just on the bench."

"And what a damn crime too! You could've run circles around them!"

Tim dug his nails into his palms. Truth was, he hated football, and he wasn't even remotely good. The only reason he'd signed up was because of his father, and the only reason he'd gotten in was, well, his father too. Still, it didn't help the embarrassment that came with his parents attending every game, only to ask why he never played.

The only worse thing he could think of was if he actually did play. That, Tim thought, would probably end in disaster.

"Well, it was nice to see you, Jack," James said. He and the other men were moving away. "And you too, kiddo. You'll be head of this company one day. I look forward to that!"

Tim screwed up his mouth in a hopefully authentic approximation of a smile. He watched as his father shook their hands and bid them farewell, still grinning like a maniac. Tim knew that he had no other choice than to succeed his father in the future. Still, though, Tim thought as he stared wistfully out the window.

Sometimes he felt like he was made to do bigger things.

Bruce Wayne looked at himself in the mirror.

He frowned, cocked his head to the side, and adjusted his tie slightly. There. Just perfect.

"Well, it only took forty years, but you've finally learned how to tie a tie by yourself."

Bruce smirked. "And how long did it take you, dad?"

"Too long," Martha Wayne concurred. "Bruce, you look fabulous."

Thomas frowned. "What about me?"

"You always look fabulous to me, darling."

Bruce shook his head at his parents' antics, instead opting to fix his hair. This gala was about opening jobs to those who lived in the Narrows, to hopefully stop the increasing crime rate from spiralling out of control.

Alfred's head popped through the doorway. "The first few guests are arriving, Masters. I suggest you get going."

"Will do, Alfred," Thomas called.

Martha smiled. "What would we do without you?"

"Starve, most likely."

Bruce grinned. Alfred was family in all but blood, and Bruce considered him a second father. Sometimes, he even went to Alfred before Thomas when dealing with problems he didn't want his father to know about. Every time, Alfred would listen patiently, then dispense his unfathomable wisdom. Bruce owed so many things to his butler.

As they walked towards the ballroom, Bruce noticed the pearl necklace around his mother's neck. Like every other time he saw it, his pulse began racing, and he had to remind himself that it had only happened once. He was in his house. He was safe.

Still, he couldn't help flashing back to that fateful night when he was eight, in that darkened alley outside the theatre. The man, the gun... if his hand hadn't been trembling, if he hadn't missed...

Well, Bruce reflected, he couldn't even imagine how his life would've turned out.

Hey guys! Yes, I'm not dead. Sorry for taking so long to do anything, I've just been dry out of ideas! Anyway, as you may have noticed, this is an AU where Bruce never became Batman, and all the boys never came together. (While somewhat similar to my other story As Fate Would Have It, this one is set in an entirely different universe so no magic trickery or anything unlike that one.) In my mind, Bruce would never have had Damian in this kind of world, so unfortunately he's probably not gonna appear. (I say probably. Maybe I'll find a way to include him.)

Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! The next chapter will hopefully be up soon, but really, I'm terribly unorganised. Please feel free to leave a like/follow/review. You guys mean a lot to me! Until next time (and sorry for the terribly long A/N)!