dkalban prompted: hmm…trip to the fair?
I… have a need in my life for Helena Kyle to actually be Helena Wayne in the mainstream universe, so that's exactly what happened in this "universe." Helena is Bruce's daughter. Because reasons.
Batman and related properties © DC Comics
story © RenaRoo
All Fun and Games
"This is not my duty."
Bruce wonders, for a moment, if it's possible to go back on his promise to Dick without negative repercussion. From Alfred.
Tim is out of the question, because there is enough passive aggressive energy between the two of them after that last board meeting that is not to be mentioned. His trust in Cassandra is still wounded from the incident with the kitchen's knife set.
Jason is… not the top of his choices for this responsibility either. He has enough children concocting plans against him. He doesn't need to hand over his last chance at having a civil child to the opposition's recruiter.
Damian glares back, unmoving.
Helena swings herself on Bruce's unmoving hand, completely oblivious to the conversation at play or to the sounds of the car being packed with the other Wayne children and company.
"I am offering you an allowance," Bruce continues. He will not beg. It will get him nowhere.
To that, his preteen crosses his arms and huffs. "Tt, Drake already has my allowance set."
That… is something to be addressed at a future date. Bruce notes it alongside the ever present question of what exactly has made Helena's hands wet and sticky. There's the nerve prickling horror that whatever it is will soon be wiped on his pressed pants.
"How about this, Damian," Bruce says with a sharp intake of air, "I will allow you to walk the grounds unsupervised so long as you take your sister. Promise."
If this works, Bruce has no desire to follow his two youngest to discover what they have gotten into. Ignorance is bliss, and if he can help it, Bruce will be blissfully in a Manor devoid of children for the first time in nearly 20 years. Off and on. Give or take.
"I have already received a counter offer at a far more appreciative bargain," Damian says with a raise of his brows. It's his You have not impressed me, Father look that has slowly gained momentum on Bruce's list of things he would change about his world. "It is generous and I plan on cashing it in with relative promptness."
"Counter offer?" Bruce repeats before a dazzling sight in a large sun hat walks into his peripheral vision.
He turns just in time to see Selina in a leopard print beach throw and a smile that could kill.
Which makes sense. She's killed Bruce's few allotted days off.
"Mommy!" Helena cries out before rushing to Selina, pink tutu flailing in the breeze. She flings her arms around Selina's neck for a quick squeeze when Selina bends down. "You ready? You ready for the fair?"
Selina lets down Helena and smiles - all teeth - as she looks over her sunglasses. "Oh, no, honey. Mommy has things to do at Daddy's house today." Bruce is sure that Selina will work up a sweat lounging at the Manor pool with Alfred there to chat to. "This is a big trip just for you all and your daddy. Isn't that exciting?"
"YES!" Helena cheers, turning back to smile cluelessly back to Bruce.
All Bruce can think is how Selina might be Catwoman, but at the moment all he can think is snake.
"You're paying off my children," Bruce says, ignoring how Damian turns and leaves for the car without permission. "You've turned my greatest soldier against me."
"Oh, Bruce," Selina laughs as she stands up and runs her fingers through Helena's black waves of hair. "If you didn't make it so much fun for them I'd never have a chance."
There isn't much of a response to that which is why it's "fortunate" that their conversation practically ends when Dick decides the best way to tell them to get to the car is to blare the horn no less than four times.
Bruce looks to the sky. "This was not how it was all supposed to end."
He feels Selina smack his shoulder before pouring Helena into his arms. "Oh, lighten up. Win me a stuffed animal."
"Whose fault is this again?" Jason asks as he glares at the crowd outside of the fairgrounds.
They're standing by the car, unpacking purses and a lunch cooler and other necessities that these spoiled brats can't apparently do a day without. It's not even nine o'clock yet. There's a crowd.
They'd be at the front of that crowd if anyone had listened to him and delighted in taking only a wallet and the clothes on their back into the fair with them. Idiots.
"Tim's," is the answer given unanimously.
"What? How?" Tim demands, looking around at all of them. "I told everyone last night to be ready to go by seven. We pulled out of the garage at seven thirty. The only person ready on time besides me was Babs."
"Well, maybe it's because you're the one who suggested to the Mayor that the proceeds from the Gotham County Fair go to charity," Dick offers as he zips up the book bag hanging off the back of Babs' chair. "Thanks, Babs."
"No problem, Pocket-less Wonder," she smirks as Dick kisses her cheek.
"Or because you offered to be the organizer for the events," Stephanie yawns as she straightens out her skirt and leggings.
"That you refused to get in a dunking booth," Cass adds, face looking severely disappointed at her brother. "Wouldn't have to come all together then."
"I would have come at six in the morning for that," Jason says, looking a little dreamily at the very notion. "Ah. Perfect. Or pie in the face. I would have donated every cent Talia ever gave me and then some for this. Dammit, Replacement."
Tim glares at him, less than amused.
"You were born," Damian adds as he slides past them all and heads toward the line with positively no enthusiasm.
"Ah, there it is," Dick says as he leads the rest of their herd toward the lines. "Way to go, you two. Always take it a little bit further over the line. Can't we all just mercilessly pick at each other like normal siblings?"
Tim stands his grounds as the others go out. He looks over his shoulder to Bruce who is straggling with Helena firmly glued to her spot sitting on his shoulders.
"Anything to add, B?" Tim asks with a frown.
"Yes," Bruce says with a sly look in Tim's direction. "You told her and therefore you will be receiving no help from me for the rest of the day."
He took a moment to roll his eyes back, really thinking about the implications of those words and actions, before Tim sighed and nodded to himself. "No, I stand by the fact that it's worth it to tell Selina," he decides. He then smiles at Helena. "Glad you could come, Helena."
Helena digs her chin into Bruce's scalp and smiles brightly at Tim. "Yay! Me too!"
"The only thing I ask," Dick had said when planning for this family outing had first begun three nights beforehand, "is that you give me this one day. All of you. Just let me have this one day with Babs and no interruptions. I like to think that other than hugs and affection - which should not be asking that much from fathers and siblings by the way - I don't ask for much for myself. I'm cashing that check in today. All of you promise me to let Babs and I have this day together at the fair since we're all going to be together for it anyway."
It had been just enough guilt and just enough earnestness that the rest of the Wayne family was shamed into nodding and muttering agreements.
Dick is still proud.
He doesn't particularly care if it's obnoxious for him to use every trick the circus taught him to get five hundred tickets by the end of the day. He will be getting Barbara the three-foot-tall chibi plush of herself as Batgirl. It will take up the entire trunk of their sudan that was already full with Waynes and Honorary Waynes. It will be the new pillow on their bed.
But he is, after all, a gentleman. And he knows how to make a date amazing. So he's taking his time, spreading out the number of booths they go to and lets Babs take her shot at the games.
He is an excellent boyfriend, thank you very much.
They get to the shooting gallery and Barbara smirks as she looks to Dick. "How good of a shot do you think I still am?"
"The best," he replies without hesitation. He smiles at the man behind the booth and gets Babs the air rifle. "Ladies first?"
"Thank you," she says as she approaches the counter and steadies her aim.
The first bandit crosses the stage and is mowed down.
"Nice shot, Babs!" Dick declares with a smile just before a second blast. He blinks. "Rapid fire - " third " - huh?"
It's the fifth that has both the man behind the booth and Dick shift uncomfortably from his girlfriend. Dick rubs at his neck with another bandit going down.
"Aiming for the lowest ring there, aren't we, Babs?" he laughs.
"Yeah, I don't know," she says with a smirk as she fires again. "Feels natural."
Well. At least they are getting a lot of tickets.
A four-year-old in a tutu is shockingly difficult to keep in one place. Even if that "one place" is six feet above the ground on her father's head.
"Can we get on that one?" she says with a point toward the swinging chairs.
Bruce looked at the gear, inspected it superficially, and then turned. "No."
"Can we get on that one?" she moans with a point toward the octopus-shaped tilt-a-whirl.
He made the mistake of taking Dick on one of those when he first became the boy's guardian. Dick might still get on them, but Bruce certainly doesn't. "No."
"Can we get on that one?" she says with her nails digging into his scalp so she can pull at his hair.
"You're your mother's daughter," he hisses as he bites back an ow. He then follows her hand toward the mirror house. "… sure."
The scream of joy is almost worse than crying.
Father had given him a choice in company for the rest of the day, insisting that with paparazzi and the public about it would compromise their identities if they let an eleven-year-old walk around a fair by himself. It seemed understandable enough of a request. At first.
Damian thinks he should have made more of an effort in choosing from his siblings. At least with Drake there is the distinct chance he could be enjoying silence from time to time.
"Can you believe this?" Todd grimaces for what must be the fifteenth time since their admittance to the grounds. "I can't stand for fifteen minutes for a roller coaster with no loops. What is this?"
"Don't you dare say it again, Todd," Damian snarls. "I will gladly compromise our civilian selves and walk to the Manor if you -"
"Hey, brat, let's try that ride."
Damian stares at him. "And you call us spoiled, Todd?"
"If I'm doing all of this on Bruce's dime, kid, I'm going to enjoy myself," Jason returns with a smirk. "Besides. I just thought of something more fun than all the rides in this place combined."
Taking in a sharp breath, Damian stares as his formerly estranged older brother ducks under the rope and exits yet another line. "Is that your actual unit of measurement, Todd? Because I have yet to experience how much 'fun' any such ride here is."
Turning around, the former Robin grinned widely. "You'll just have to trust me then."
For some reason beyond him, Damian growled and pulled his hair in frustration before ducking under the rope as well.
"Good kid," Todd laughs as he claps Damian on the shoulder and guides him away from the main attractions.
"Stop pouting," Cass says, bumping Tim's shoulder with her own.
"I'm not," Tim replies, not even bothering to resist as his sister slips her arms around his and lays her head on his shoulder. "It's just… Well, it's something I can't ignore, okay."
Cass smiles. "Yes you can."
"Not as long as Steph is still laughing about it."
The blonde is snorting at this point, unable to capture enough breath between outbursts. She lowers her head and shakes her blonde curls. "I-I'm sorry. Just… oh my god."
"It's pretty funny," Cass admits.
"Et tu, Cassandra?" Tim mutters.
"The great part?" Steph bursts out, finally able to stop laughing enough to reach out and lean on Tim's other shoulder, wiping tears from her eyes. "They got Black Bat and Red Hood. That's the kicker. I mean, sure. Batgirl, Batman, Robin. Nightwing, even. Yeah, okay."
Tim stares at the obvious Red Robin plush. Then at the name plate. Dr. Mid-Nite.
"This is my curse," he says. "You know, I technically legally represent Batman Incorporated. I could sue for this. All of this. There's so much Bat stuff at this fair."
"Sue the proceeds free organization raising money for charities you organized," Steph sighs with a final laugh into Tim's shoulder. "Oh, Tim."
"I wonder… why the action figures for Batman and Nightwing have," Cass pauses and leans in closer to the stand, peering. "Nipples? Batgirl doesn't."
Tim didn't even look at the action figures. "I don't know - What?"
Stephanie collapses to a heap on the ground. People are staring, but Tim can't process anything right now. He thinks they should buy the entire stand to keep the public from seeing. It's only fair. It's for charity.
"This one makes you fat," Helena explains as she squats in front of the mirror and roars at it like a little beast. She bounces up and leaps in front of the next one, stretching back, arms up, standing on her toes. "This one makes you taaaallllll!"
Bruce smiles, casually taking one step at a time, as each mirror is only about two feet wide.
He doesn't have a comment, only curiosity for how something so small can have so much to say and do. It's not really expressible in words.
Some of the people who pass them by - as Helena must spend at least a full minute to examine herself in each distortion - smile and laugh. Others immediately recognize him and whisper when they're out of "ear shot" about the mysterious identity of his little girl. Only one has the gaul to whip out a camera phone. He puts it away with only one warning look from Bruce.
Everything seems to be going pleasantly.
Helena starts pushing and pulling on his pant leg. "Daddy!" she whines. "Stand… here!"
He does so obediently. The squatted man in front of him has excellent taste in Armani.
"Very funny," he says before looking over to see Helena, standing upright, hands on her hips and legs apart, in front of the mirror next to him. She's a warped, thin and tall caricature of the apple of Bruce's eye. "I'm taller than Batman!" she grins.
It might be the most adorable thing Bruce has ever seen.
"Shh," he says softly. "Not so loud."
"Shh-okay," she says before trotting forward.
He follows suit.
"It was nice of them to give you a Walmart bag to keep all those tickets," Babs says, smiling around the straw to her milkshake. Dick got her the plastic large cup. It has a Bat Symbol. She wonders if Bruce is having a cow yet. "Have you won enough yet?"
Dick finishes up the last string of tickets before shoving it haphazardly into the bag with the others. "Nope, I only have-"
"Forty-three to go," Babs says with a smirk. She reaches across the picnic table to offer her milkshake.
He gets the funny, lazy smile he often does when they're like this and leans forward, taking a drink. "Mm. That's good. And yeah. You're right. You always are."
"I'm good with numbers," she laughs.
Pulling his right leg up onto the bench he's sitting on, Dick hugs it close to his chest like a bendy noodle. "Yeah, I guess so. And we still haven't seen anyone," he says looking around as if he jinxed them. "That's… a pleasant surprise."
"Maybe they're taking the whole 'give us a break' thing seriously," she offers before reaching out and patting his hand. "They love you, Dick. They're trying to show it."
"Or they killed each other," he replies before turning to smirk at her and pulling her hand up to kiss its knuckles. "But I like your idea, too."
"Goof," she laughs.
"Why does something that looks so revolting…" Damian says with a wary eye to the thing in his hands, "taste so…"
"Fucking great?" Jason questions as he engulfs half of his in one bite.
"Your command of English is inspiring," the younger of the Wayne children replies with a roll of his eyes. He takes another respectable bite. "But… it is… delicious."
"'And full of nitrates, chum,'" Jason quotes, reaching over to the stack of napkins between them on the bench. He roughly wipes his mouth with the one he procures. "Actually these aren't nearly as good as the stand out at Dixon Harbor."
"I find that hard to believe," Damian replies before he realizes it's come out of his mouth. He quickly ducks his head between his shoulders, but Todd's already swelled up with what Damian can only assume ispride.
"A convert?"
"Don't flatter yourself!" Damian snaps before taking another bite. "Chili… dogs are just… a shockingly refreshing discovery for my palate. Considering the usual American cuisine I'm exposed to thanks to Brown."
"Eh, that's fair," Todd says, but his grin's not wavering. "Ah! Here we go, the next act is about to begin."
Nearly three yards away is a platform stage with rows of plastic chairs, only half occupied. The stage is covered in an assortment of sound equipment that Damian isn't entirely convinced the operators know how to use. But Gotham talent has been… surprisingly entertaining to watch.
"Maybe later next week I can show you what real chili dogs taste like," he offers easily, leaning back against the bench."
"Don't you waste enough time already?" Damian returns before looking off, feeling his cheeks burning. "… but I suppose if you're not doing anything it would be…"
His brother wiggles a brow at him. "Pretty cool?"
"Acceptable," Damian huffs. But… cool sounds more accurate.
Stephanie jerks as Tim presses the ointment on her nose. "Agh! Tim!"
"You should've let me put sunscreen on you when it was still relevant," Tim says, his smirk betraying just how much he's enjoying this. "Any more pasty-white-boy jokes you'd like to throw my way?"
Cass returns with the water bottles. Tim and Steph both catch the ones tossed to them.
"Ow!" Steph cries out as her shirt's neckline rubs against the stinging skin. "I can't believe you wouldn't share your sunscreen, Tim, so rude."
Tim, as usual, goes right for the bait. "I offered throughout the whole day, Steph! I even offered to put it on you! You said no!"
"Yeah, because that wouldn't be weird. Rubbed down by ex-boyfriend," she says with a look to Cass who is smiling in that way that betrays she's laughing internally. "Gosh, Tim, you're so insensitive."
Having enough, Tim raises his hands and backs away. "Okay, you know what? Let Cass do it. Fine with me."
The girls both laugh out loud. Tim makes it too easy sometimes.
He gives them both pointed looks before looking at Cass. "How much was it?" he asks as he unscrews the cap of his water.
"Seven fifty," Cass repeats the cashier exactly.
"For three waters? That's outrageous," Tim says, once more neglecting the fact that he was the organizer for the whole affair.
Steph rolls her eyes.
It takes her until she's unscrewed her own cap and taken a drink before to see Tim's hand extended and Cass' confused look. Suddenly, Steph knows exactly what happened and she starts to laugh into her bottle.
Cass slaps down Tim's hand in a 'hi-five.'
Tim blinks. "Where's my change, Cass?"
He should really know the answer. This is the fourth time it's happened.
"Keep the change," Cass says with a shrug.
Tim throws his head back and groans. "Again!? Cass! I told you not to do that!"
"It's for charity, Tim," Steph reasons. "Isn't that what you kept saying when you were stressing out over planning all of this and I kept advising you to stop working on it? That's what I recall you saying. Cass?"
"Yes."
"It's not that," Tim huffs, rubbing his face. "It's that I keep telling both of you and the others to use any money we saved today to give directly to the charity box before we leave. That way it'll go directly into the charity fund instead of being taken out of the percentage for the fair income. That's the part of the contract I had to negotiate the most on!"
Both Cass and Steph look to each other before looking back. "But, Tim, it's all going to someone who needs it," Steph says with a tug on his shirt. "It's for charity. And these workers' stomachs."
"They need a new slip-'n-slide," Cass observes as she looks at the one with only one functional lane. Somehow it still has a line all the way down the stairs despite obvious possible endangerment.
"Fine, you two win," Tim mutters. "But I still take no responsibility for Steph's sunburn."
"That's because you're heartless, Tim," Steph jokes as she pushes herself off her seat with a sharp hiss and then swings her arms carefully around Tim's shoulders. "You're the biggest-hearted heartless idiot I've ever thrown a brick at."
"And lots of people are here," Cass says, patting Tim's head like he's Titus. "You did good."
"Gee, thanks."
Helena's head dips forward, chin still sticky from her ice cream, and her eyes close. Her mouth is a wide open fly trap as she yawns. Bruce is kneeling in front of her, straightening out the riding up tutu for what feels like the thousandth time (it's really only the hundredth).
He's smiling softly to himself as his little girl wavers on her feet. It's why he notices the large, bulbous Batgirl head approaching before he notices Barbara.
When he picks up Helena and lets her curl into his shoulder, Bruce stands and just openly raises his brows at the large future-obstruction of the back window.
He forgot to get something for Selina.
Well. Maybe an intact four-year-old will be serviceable.
"Did you win that?" he asks as Barbara heads to the car first.
Dick looks around the edge of the doll and gives Bruce a look. "No, B. I stole it. From a charity event."
"It's mine," Barbara says, stopped at the back window. "… Bruce what is all this?"
"I've been trying to figure that out," the Dark Knight admits as he closes Helena's mouth gently. She's going to drool and add to the collection of stuff that has gotten on his shirt today. "I thought it must be Dick's, he usually collects these sorts of things. But I suppose he had…" Bruce pauses and looks at the giant doll. "… other plans."
"I'm proud of this," Dick says with a sniff. "I would expect you to be more supportive."
Dick suspects incorrectly, but Bruce isn't sure how to express as much. He opts to look at the backseat for how much room there is in Helena's chair. None. The little packages are everywhere.
"This was an acceptable venture," Damian's voice calls out as he and Jason approach.
For some reason it never occurred to Bruce what a terrible idea it was to let them go together until just this moment. He stares at Damian's face.
"Is that…"
"It isn't permanent," Damian says, folding his arms and raising his chin to better showcase his facial tattooing. "Todd says it's a better idea to try out these at the fair before getting the real one. I am inclined to agree."
"Will the real one take up part of your face?" Bruce asks, glaring at Jason who looks so proud.
"I think it looks cool, Li'l D," Dick coos. He then turns so he can see all of them with his limited range around the enormous doll. "I won this."
"No, really?" Jason responds mockingly.
Dick sticks out his tongue.
Bruce thinks he has a migraine. He knows his arm is growing numb.
"Here's our stragglers," Barbara announces, turning everyone's attention to the late trio.
Stephanie looks an interesting shade of red. Tim and Cassandra both have egg crates.
"I told everyone not to win anything live," Bruce warns, warily eyeing the crates as the remaining children approach. "Better than that, Alfred warned."
"These are what we've been carrying the trash out with," Tim explains. "We got here twenty minutes ago. We've been unloading the stuff from the car to throw away."
"Tim's insane," Steph decries before leaning against the vehicle sorely. "That's what this all comes down to. He's insane and he's roped us into it - ah! Is that a Batgirl plush? It's so cute!"
"Thank you!" Dick says with pride.
"You put all this in the car?" Bruce tries to clarify and Cass and Tim round over to the side door, open it carefully, and begin pouring the small packages into the egg crates.
"If we just took them directly from the booths to the dumpsters before most of the other people left, there's a chance someone would find them and try to keep them," Tim explains, like it's the most common sense thing he has ever announced. "This was the only way to keep the problem contained."
Bruce isn't sure he wants more information, but Jason walks over and grabs a package for himself despite Tim's protests anyway. And stares at it.
Then he explodes into laughter.
"Well, I'm keeping this," Jason announces, lifting it over his head to keep out of Tim's reach.
"Jason!" Tim growls, stretching for the package which is then promptly taken by Dick.
How Dick managed as much with the large Batgirl doll in his arms is still beyond Bruce.
Then Dick explodes into laughter.
"This is the greatest thing I have ever seen."
"Do I want to know?" Bruce asks, feeling his patience thinning at the same rate he is losing feeling in his fingers.
Cass and Tim look at each other and then back. "No."
"I dunno, Boss, how does Bat Nipples sound to you?" Jason asks between hacking laughter.
Dick can't breathe.
No, Bruce decides, he does not want to know further. "I don't care - Cass, Tim, Steph -" he ignores the 'what!? I'm burned!' "- whatever it is, get it out of the car. There's not enough room. Clear out Helena's carseat first. Everyone else either help or get in the car. I'm tired. I smell like cotton candy. It's time to go home."
They all respond with a range of noises but eventually it seems as though everyone falls into order.
Which is great. Because Batman thinks his daughter is mouthing his shirt in her sleep and getting enough slobber on him that it's seeping through.
Despite everything in his bones resisting, Bruce drives. Barbara, sitting next to him in the front seat, is already on her palmtop access and working, but he can see by her loose strands of hair around her face and the tired but fond way she smiles into the mirror at the large bobbling head of her plus self from time to time that she is not going to be online herself tonight upon getting back to the tower.
Dick is nestled between Helena's carseat and Damian, head resting on the side of the seat while his legs sprawl out into the unused foot room for Damian's seat. Damian is tucked into Dick's side, obviously pulled there after he fell asleep by his overbearing brother.
Jason is hidden behind the the second row, laid across Steph, Tim, and Cass' laps as apparently he had decided seat belts were beneath him. The other three are entangled, with Cass in the center giving the other two shoulders to sleep on.
Bruce sighs and adjusts his mirror.
Somehow he will have to figure out a good way to thank Selina for this day.