Breathes in. Listen. Just. Listen. This story is going to be crack. There may be some plot, but it's mostly crack. Please try not to take any of this seriously. I'm not that familiar with the current comics or most comics (I jumped in randomly during the Batman & Robin run with Bat!Dick and Damian) so just. Enjoy. Enjoy and suffer with me because you bet your butts I'll be channeling my daily frustrations as a barista into this fic

There are going to be pairings. Dick is most likely going to be paired up with someone but it won't be sexual. Mostly just hugs and kisses and cuddling. I'm going for a Asexual Dick because reasons. There are pairings though. Like Harley and Ivy. Fight me they're cute. I do have this on ao3 as well if you want to see additional tags but I don't mind sharing any that you are concerned about.

There will be mentioned/past child abuse. The Court are creepy assholes. Also swearing. I'll try to put up trigger warnings in each chapter to be safe.

ENJOY!


It was a well known fact that Gotham housed some crazy, messed up villain. It was common knowledge that Batman kept other Heroes out for their own protection as it was to protect those he fought in the late hours of the night.

The Villains were the lowest of the low, ranging from child-traffickers to assassins to homicidal maniacs. The Villains were terrifying alone just because of the fact that they were human. They weren't all meta-humans. They were human through and through and the amount of destruction and death they caused gave reason for concern.

Because of Gotham's unsavory reputation, new businesses were rare to come by. If it hadn't been in business for at least three generations, then there was a chance it wasn't owned and ran by a local Gotham citizen.

On the rare occasion that someone stupidly moved to Gotham and tried to start a business, it'd usually only last a few months before failing. Between the daily robberies and the property damage that insurance couldn't cover, it was a losing battle.

Until, during the early winter season, a cafe opened. It was a small thing, located in Crime Alley. It was inconspicuous at first glance - looking like a run down building instead of a establishment. People barely batted an eyelash at it - it'd be gone before the weather warmed up.

Except it lasted one year.

Two years.

Three years.

Rumors spread throughout the streets of Gotham and mingled in the cocktail glasses of the underground. The Cafe was off-limits . The Cafe was neutral . Apparently the owner didn't mind who came in, as long as they paid for their drinks or food and were calm and courteous.

The Joker and Harley Quinn paid the Cafe a visit. Those who had the fortune to witness the event would swear on their lives that it ended with the Joker leaving a generous tip in the tip-jar and Harley promising to return.

It was unheard of. The Joker, known murderer, leaving the Cafe and the workers unharmed and not mentally scarred?

The rumor mill worked harder. Deathstroke was spotted there, despite him not being a Gotham rogue. The Penguin apparently only drank the espresso from that cafe. Poison Ivy had given a few potted plants, nothing poisonous or dangerous, as gifts to sit in the windowsills. Catwoman helped decorate the place during the holiday seasons, offering framed pictures of her black kittens for Halloween or helping to make black cat cookies. Two-Face was almost a permanent resident at the cafe, more so rarely seen away from his corner table than at it.

It was crazy. Unbelievable.

Then Gotham nearly exploded the day Batman trudged in, plopped down at a booth table, and waved for the bruised and beaten Joker and Harley Quinn to join him. One of the brave workers of the cafe (a college student with dead eyes and an even deader will to live) had taken their orders.

It was a tense affair.

After that, more of the vigilantes who roamed the streets started showing up. Red Hood was a common sight, begging the only guy barista in the joint for just one more fucking espresso shot, please! Nightingale was also someone who wasn't surprising to see. He'd drag himself in, slam down three cans of Red Bull or Monster, and stare the barista straight in the eye as he'd whisper, "Fucking murder me."

No one could say for sure how this cafe came to be, or the secret to its neutrality and success. All anyone could say for sure was that the barista who seemed to live there was more or less the main attraction for the women customers, and the coffee and the food the other reason for anyone else.

As long as Villains and Heroes alike could have a safe haven from the insanity of their lives, then they didn't care, to be honest.

The coffee was dirt-cheap and delicious and the barista was always friendly and happy to see anyone who walked in the door.

It was amazing.


The cafe was small but well furnished. The espresso bar, imported from Italy and top of the line, was daunting and intimidating in its size and with how many buttons it had. The chairs and tables, a dark mahogany, were brand new from the pristine state. The wall decorations were modern canvases of black-and-white sketches of Gotham in various states, tastefully spread out across the bricks.

The cafe itself had a industrial aesthetic to it, the support beams and instillation uncovered to give it more appeal. Christmas lights and Edison bulbs hung loosely across the beams, strung across to give decent lighting.

Behind the metal, retro-looking counter was a man, his tanned skin almost glowing under the orange and yellow lights of the establishment. His black, thick curls were tucked up under his tan baseball cap. A tan apron was tied tight around his waist, showing off his defined muscles of his arms and chest.

His name tag read 'Dick', a smiley-face sticker plastered beside the printed letters. Dick wiped down at the metal counter, humming under his breath. A bell jingled as the door opened, two men in fine-pressed suits slipping past the tables and chairs.

"Heya Dickie," one of the men greeted, his words stilted by his thick accent, "just you today?" Dick waved, shoving his rag by the cash register as he tapped at the computer screen.

"Yeah," Dick laughed as he smiled wide to the two, "just me. What can I get started for you?" The two men peered up at the LED light-up menu board hanging overhead, the neon letters written out neatly.

"Uuuuh yeah, gimme a Baby Bat," one of the men ordered. Dick's finger hovered over his computer screen, eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Which type would you like? Zombie, Millennial, Once in a Dream, Spoiler Free, or Tantrum?" Dick listed off without thought and the man's eyes went a bit wide.

"Um."

His buddy nudged him. "Get the Zombie. You've got a long shift ahead of ya'." He gave a approving nod to Dick, who put the drink order in. "And get me a double shot of espresso." Dick hummed and put it in. He set to work, dispensing the espresso grounds into the portafilters.

The two men made idle chatter as Dick worked on their drinks. He filled one small to-go cup with two shots, sealing it with a lid. Another cup, he filled with 10 shots of espresso. He lidded that one as well before handing the two drinks over.

"Have a good night!" Dick smiled brightly. "Don't murder anyone, please!" One of the men saluted as they left, leaving Dick alone again.

The bell rung again as a woman sauntered in, her blonde hair pulled into two bouncing pig-tails. Her makeup, eyeliner, mascara, and black lipstick, looked perfect on her.

"Hiya toots!" The woman greeted, batting her long eyelashes at Dick. "Can you give me The Batman today?" Dick laughed as the woman all but sprawled out along the counter, entering in her drink.

"One dark chocolate peppermint mocha latte coming right up," he spoke as he went to make it. The woman watched him as he steamed the milk, grabbing two plastic bottles of white chocolate and caramel sauces to drizzle on top of the whipped cream she was eagerly looking forward to. "So how are you today, Harley?"

"Gonna be lots betta' after I get this drink," Harley spoke as she tapped a painted nail along the counter. "How's about you? All by your lonesome?" She eyed the deserted cafe. "Kinda slow for a Thursday night."

"I think Ivy was doing something tonight. Barely had any of the regulars," Dick spoke with a shoulder shrug, drizzling the sauces on top of the mountain of whipped cream. Harley made a appreciative noise as he passed the drink over, a wrapped cookie following.

"Oh yeah! Ivy mentioned somethin' about her newest project. I completely forgot!" Harley faked knocked her head with a laugh. "I'll keep ya company then until you close!" She bounced over, sprawling out over one of the plush chairs. "Come sit with me, Dickie!"

Dick rolled his eyes, easily sliding over the counter. It was a slow night so he could take the time to rest - it was his place after all. He sat across from her and the villain wasted no time in breaking the cookie into bits, offering Dick a piece of the bat-signal shaped sugar cookie.

"No thanks, Harley. I'm on a strict diet," Dick spoke with a apologetic smile. "But thanks." Harley eyed him sourly before popping the cookie into her mouth.

"So, was it slow all day?" The woman broke more pieces of the cookie off, taking small bites while Dick stretched in the chair, his back making a crack.

"Not really. It was pretty steady earlier. I let Jessica go home early - it's a school night after all." Dick rested his chin in his hand, humming softly. Harley sipped on her beverage for a moment, eyes dark as she studied the man across from her. "Hm?"

"Nothin'," Harley argued but her staring said different. "Just. I never asked. What made ya decide to open up a cafe?" She looked around at the decorations, squinting. "Did your kid draw that?"

Dick's eyes moved to where she was glaring, seeing a black and white sketch of Gotham from a high building. It had been stretched onto a canvas and hung. He beamed proudly.

"Yep! Dami's so talented." He looked at the picture fondly. "Why I started this place?" He shrugged. "I grew a passion for coffee. Everyone always tells you, 'do something you love for a career'. I love coffee, so I opened a coffee shop." Harley smiled against the lip of her lid.

"I bet your parents love it."

Dick's smile widened, just a tiny bit. The two fell into silence, Harley sipping on her drink and Dick watching the occasional person walk past the glass window panes.

It was nice.

"Are you ever going to change the name though?" Harley asked finally.

"I think it's fine," Dick argued. Harley raised an eyebrow and tapped on the cardboard sleeve hugging her cup.

BIG DICK'S CAFE was printed in a wonky font across the sleeve. Dick crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

"It's fine."

"Kids make fun of you."

"When don't they?"

"Ivy makes fun of you."

"..." Dick squinted at the table top. "Maybe." Harley snorted into her mocha drink.


The Baby Bat - various forms of drinks with espresso shots.
Zombie - ten shots.
Millennial - two shots of espresso, four ounces of red bull, and ten ounces of cafe's strongest coffee - cold brew.
Once in a Dream - french vanilla syrup mixed with three shots of espresso.
Spoiler Free - Lavender powder based milk tea with coffee flavored jellies. Espresso shots are optional
Tantrum - Soy (or almond) latte. No flavor. No sugar. Five shots of espresso.

The Batman is a dark chocolate mocha latte with white chocolate drizzle, peppermint syrup, and four shots of espresso.