Notes: This was something that was only supposed to be short, quickly written thing. Remember 'One Little Change'? This was the other AU CaraLee sent me. It was a private eye alternative universe with a bunch of prompt words. Some of these words were tough to write. Plus, it ended up being less Justice League and more Batman family with a few extra characters thrown in...
PI AU:
Introduction (comment plot bunny):
The Just Private Eyes office was bustling as usual.
Barry Allen, their forensic investigator, came running in as he usually did. This time he went up to Clark Kent's desk.
However, when he spoke, he directed the words to everyone in the office. They had been questioning his speed recently.
"Alright, I've run the analysis of the stuff Superman found in the vic's apartment."
Clark sighed.
"Stop calling me that. Just because I lifted that car of that child once-"
"And leapt a tall tree to save a cat-"
"Doesn't make me a Superman! It was adrenaline! A one-"
"Five."
"Time freak occurrence!"
Barry gave him this look which said that he wasn't buying it. At least, to Clark's relief, he changed the subject.
"Anyway, take it to Bruce. He'll add it to GL's stakeout information and probably call a meeting."
"I still don't think the suspect did it," Clark pointed out as he took the results.
"And we've taken that under advisement." A cold dark shadow said as it seemed to appear behind the two detectives.
Clark and Barry jumped.
"Curses. One day that won't surprise us!" Barry said.
Clark refused to comment on his friends' antics.
"Flash has your results."
"In record time might I add! That's why I'm the Flash and you're the Batman; scary guy who likes sneaking up on people."
"Right. Don't call you that."
"I'll run this stuff by John. He wants to wrap this up quick," Bruce said, all-business. The only time they ever saw him lighten up was if one of the kids was around.
"That's the Manhunter for you! We'll get the guy with him running the show," Barry commented with a smile. John Jones may have been from oceans away but, he knew how to run a detective agency.
"Right. You and him both running the show. Yes." Couldn't forget their funder and the guy who looked over their shoulders all the time.
"And don't call John 'Manhunter'. Got it."
Clark twisted in his chair and winced.
"Bruce, I need a new chair. Who do I talk to-"
"See Nightwing. He'll pass it to Robin and Robin will add it to the accounts."
Bruce walked away.
Barry lamented, "how come Dick and Tim get code names from Bats and we don't?"
Egypt
There was a poster of the Pyramids of Giza on the wall of the office that's been there since they bought the place.
"Cool! Who went to Egypt?" Dick asked when he saw it at eight years old. He had been disappointed to hear that no one had been until Clark distracted him with promises of taking him flying. Well, his version of flying which was hang-gliding on weekends.
Wally would whiz by it, pausing in front of it for a moment before rushing back downstairs to help his uncle.
Every now and then, someone would catch Jason standing at the poster, staring at it like it held the secrets of the universe.
"What?" he would snap if anyone asked him what he was doing. "Can't a guy look around?"
One time, Diana (who the papers called 'Wonder Woman' because she was a private eye, ran her own company and there was hardly any bad press about her) caught both Roy and Jason in front of the poster, talking and laughing.
Conner would stare at it from his desk and sigh sometimes.
Tim would just lean on the wall next to it, watching the whole office from that vantage point.
Sometimes, Damian would glance at it and make a soft –tt- sound.
It wasn't until after Bruce came back after a year from his kidnapping and impromptu trip around the world that they discovered the truth of the poster. Bruce had been cleaning up his desk after Dick had been using it for the year when he decided to finally throw the old poster into the bin. He tugged down the corner of the poster and froze.
"What is it, Bats?" Barry asked, coming up to see what was causing the side of Bruce's mouth to twitch. "Whoa."
"What?" Clark asked. The sound of Clark's voice snapped Bruce out of his daze and he pulled the rest of the poster off. There were names scrawled on the wall.
Robin 1 (the one added later). Kid Flash (and a drawing of a lightning bolt). Speedy had been scrawled under Kid Flash with a message scribbled underneath it: Really, KF? Just because I shoot faster than Ollie? And who told you about that anyway?
Robin II, Robin 3 and Robin 4 (in girly swirls and pink marker) were all clustered around Robin 1. ROBIN 5, the best! scrawled above them all. And 10 year old Damian must have grabbed a chair to write it that high.
Superboy and Supergirl were scribbled around an 'S' symbol, Clark's family crest.
There was a Batgirl and Black Bat and Spoiler - Batgirl! all scrawled around a bat symbol. Robin symbols (in various stylised Rs) were drawn around it with Better! written next to it. A retaliation of 'Best' was written in the curliest writing the writer could manage and the Better! had a line through it.
'You wish, Fatgirl' was neatly printed next to it.
Even Nightwing, Red Hood (when had he done that?) and Red Robin were written there, complete with symbols.
Wally had added 'Flash now' above his Kid Flash. And Roy had gone from Red Arrow to Arsenal and drawn an arrow from Arsenal to Red Hood. Starfire was printed in careful neat writing next to Nightwing and Red Hood. Batman no.2 was also scribbled near ROBIN 5, along with 'Great to see you joining in the tradition, D!'.
There were two of Wonder Girl, written close together.
It was a mural of code names, families and family symbols. It was heartbreaking and beautiful all at once. They could see how their kids had grown over the years just by looking at this. Almost everyone who had been connected to the kids and spent time in this office had been added.
At that moment, Victor Stone, the person who kept track of all their gadgets and computer system walked in. He had a coffee held tightly by his prosthetic hand and looked surprised when he saw what they were looking at.
CYBORG had been printed in bold, sharp letters in a metallic marker.
"Oh, you found it," he commented, "took you long enough."
Class
Tim held his camera tightly.
"Shouldn't you be in class?" Dick Grayson asked him, looming over his smaller and thinner frame as if that would be all it took to scare him off.
Tim was shaking from excitement. This was the kid who solved his parent's murder with the help of Bruce Wayne and his detective agency. This was the kid who the papers referred to as 'the Boy Wonder'.
This was the kid who had taken time out of his busy schedule one night before performing with his parents, to greet and take a picture with a small child with his family.
"H-hi," he stammered. "I'm Timothy Drake!" He winced. That was too loud.
"Okay. What are you doing here?" Here being the Wayne Manor. "And why aren't you in school?"
"I need your help," Tim said. He reminded himself to calm down. "I have photos here. Mr. Wayne isn't dealing well after what happened to Jason-"
"Hold up," Dick responded, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Tim's own mind sparked and turned with the theories Dick was probably coming up with. "How do you know about what happened to Jason?"
"I know it wasn't announced and is all hush-hush but, I've been... uh, following you guys?" Great Tim, he internally scolded himself, make them think you're a crazed stalker or something. "I saw you take out a criminal with your Grayson moves and then Jason was using similar moves and you were hanging out together so I assume he was also a junior member of the detective agency and-"
"Get to the point," Dick sighed, rubbing his forehead.
Oh no, Tim was rambling again. People said he did that a lot. He took a few breaths to calm down but it didn't really work.
Standing before one of his childhood heroes was sending his heart-rate sky high.
"Um... Mr. Wayne almost got himself killed and he's been doing reckless things. I believe a Mr. Kent tried talking to him about it once but he didn't listen." Tim quickly fished around in his bag, pulling out an envelope stuffed with photos. "I took pictures."
Dick raised an eyebrow but took the envelope. Tim tried not to fidget nervously under his scrutiny but he couldn't help it.
"You said you took these?" Dick said as he paused on one particular photo. Tim had a feeling it was the one which had Bruce hanging off the edge of a building, having been shoved off while chasing a criminal. A moment later, he managed to pull himself up but the criminal almost got away. As it was, the criminal was still arrested with injuries. "Kent... that would be Clark," Dick muttered to himself as he flipped through the rest of the pictures. "Dammit Bruce, why didn't you notice?"
After what felt like an eternity, Dick put the pictures away and looked at Tim.
"Alright, you have my attention."
"Mr. Wayne won't admit it but, he needs you. He needs a partner by his side. Someone to keep him in check. Someone who he can trust. That's you or Jason. And with Jason being..." he trailed off.
"No," Dick responded. He handed the envelope back. "I left for good reason and I'm not going back. I can't go back."
"But-!"
"My answer is no. Find someone else, kid."
Bait
Oliver Queen looked over the assembled group.
"I thought we all agreed, no more kids," he said. "They do little more than act as bait and, as responsible adults, we should not be encouraging them to place so little value on their own lives."
"You're just saying that because Roy's in rehab," Hal Jordan responded. The one known around the office as the Green Lantern sunk a little in his seat as a number of people shot him dirty looks for bringing up Oliver's ward.
"I know what we agreed upon," Bruce Wayne growled. "However, I'm changing it. This kid is joining."
Tim wriggled a little under all their stares. He pushed his sunglasses up his face, using them as a barrier between him and the rest of the room. He didn't need the city's main force of private eyes staring him down.
"I'm Timothy," he said, "and I'll be Bruce's partner, if that's alright with you."
Diana heaved a sigh at Bruce.
"You know what the papers are going to say about this." It happened with Dick and Jason as well. Suggestions that Bruce 'partnered' with them beyond his work.
"I don't care," Bruce informed them.
"Please don't be mad at Mr. Wayne," Timothy said in a firm voice. "I didn't give him much choice."
"Ah, you must have won 'A' over," Clark commented. He had been sitting back for most of this meeting. But now, with the reference to Alfred, he leaned forward and became part of the conversation.
"Yes," Timothy responded. This was not a happy and bouncing Dick, eager to get out there and find clues. This was also not a strong and determined Jason, willing to do whatever it took to make the downtrodden and abused people feel safe.
Timothy was something different. Strong but reserved. He didn't know much about the kid right now, but he was good for Bruce.
"Welcome," Clark said to Timothy, "I look forward to getting to know you."
Chime
The clock chimed in the background. Barry Allen looked his nephew in the eye, trying not to cry.
"Are you really going to do this?" he asked.
"I'm living alone and I'm in college now, Uncle Barry," Wally responded. Dark bags hung underneath his eyes, proof of his exhaustion. "I don't have the time to be running around and trying to take photographs for your detective work."
"I'm going to miss you, Kid Flash," Barry said with a sad smile. He reached out and ruffled Wally's red hair.
"Don't call me that!" Wally reminded him with a smirk. "Besides, I'll still visit you and Aunt Iris."
"You better," Barry said, "or you'll be dealing with Iris and not me."
Heretic
Jason stood over the body with a knife in his gloved hand. Dick couldn't believe his eyes.
"Well, Dick. Looks like the Golden Boy was just a little too late this time," Jason commented with a smirk. He put the knife down and stood up with his hands raised. The shift in his jacket revealed the holster he was wearing around his waist.
"Jason," Dick said with a touch of reverence to his tone. "You're alive?"
Jason laughed, throwing his head back. It had a manic tone to it which made Dick feel like turning away. This was his brother but he had never heard Jason laugh like that.
It was a hateful laugh.
"You go to all the trouble to get evidence and arrest criminals to hand over to the police, only for them to get away." He kicked the body and the man on the floor grunted in pain. "I'm a bounty hunter, Dick. I get the ones who you let get away. And if they get a little roughed up well, they are wanted men."
"Jason-" He was hurting the man. Jason seemed to know what he was going to say.
"What?" he sneered. "He came after me with a knife." Jason nodded at the knife he had placed on the ground.
There were so many things Dick wanted to say, hoped he would get the time to say. As it was, he was left baffled as Jason jumped out the window with a wave, leaving the criminal for him to take in.
Diving Board
Aquaman owned a waterpark. It was like his kingdom.
The best swimmers were employed there. Kaldur was the strongest swimmer while Garth was the swiftest.
Aquaman's waterpark, Atlantis, was also where the Just Private Eyes office held their annual Christmas break-up get-together.
Batman would spend the day sitting by the pool, in a deckchair, with sunglasses on his face and a laptop on his lap. Bruce Wayne was a busy man and liked reminded them of such even on days off. However, he did do a few laps back and forth of the pool.
Dick Grayson, who was now known by the Just Private Eyes office as Nightwing, would try to take the day off so he could join in. He liked doing flips off the diving board and challenging Bruce and Tim to races.
The new Robin, Tim Drake was a quiet kid. However, around Clark's super brother, Conner, Tim couldn't help giving orders and being loud. Especially when Conner used his strength to toss him into the pool.
"That's Superboy for you!" Bart Allen would remind Tim before running to the food shop. The Flashes around the waterpark made everyone cringe. They ran everywhere, even where they weren't supposed to. Barry ran in late while Wally spent a lot of time chasing down Bart.
"I'm not even supposed to be here, I quit!" Wally cried out more than once that day. He still came though.
Lobster
Tim fidgeted with his tie and tried not to show his nervousness.
"Kid, you stick out like a sore thumb."
Tim breathed a sigh of relief as Jason slipped into the seat across from him. Jason wore his suit like he had been born in it, which was far from the truth. Tim was jealous.
"So, you called, I answered. You've got until my order comes to convince me that I'm not wasting my time."
"Yes, of course!" Tim said, getting down to business. "See, there's these drug dealers B has me following-"
"One moment, Replacement," Jason said, holding up a hand. He then beckoned a nearby waiter and made his order. Lobster, one of the most expensive items on the menu because Tim was paying. "Alright, so you want me to what? Take them out?"
"What?" Tim was shocked Jason would even suggest that. He worked for detectives, he couldn't be orchestrating people's deaths!
Jason snickered.
"It was a joke. Gosh, you're so uptight. I can see why the Boss picked you, you're a lot like him."
Tim felt his face heat up. Sure, it was meant as an insult but he couldn't help feeling proud about it. Jason had held Robin's position before him. While he had only been there a short time, everyone had thought Jason would grow up to do great things. After all, Jason had no problems standing out. Or so everything thought.
Jason had been blown up. Or so everyone thought.
A thought seemed to occur to Jason.
"Uh... sorry," he apologised awkwardly. "I guess you have a good reason to be skittish around me, considering everything."
Jason had kidnapped him, held him at gunpoint and threatened to kill him in front of Bruce. Tim guessed that was what Jason was referring to. That or the time Jason beat him up while his friends had been in the other room. Or that time...
"You do spend a lot of time hating my guts," Tim was reminded. "I think?"
Jason snorted.
"Some great detective. You can't even tell how someone feels towards you! Anyway, you were talking about drug dealers?"
"Yeah. I ran their mugs and two of them have broke parole and vanished. I thought you might like to deal with them while I get the others."
Jason was shocked and surprised before his expression changed into an interested and amused one.
"You're suggesting a team up?"
"Please?"
"I can use my guns?"
"As long as no one dies. I need them to front court so I can smoke out their boss."
Jason mused on it for a few moments.
"Alright, Replacement, you have a deal."
Cow
Jason knew he hadn't been to Bruce's detective lab in a long time, nicknamed 'The Batcave', but he knew there hadn't been an animal pen last time.
"'Batcow'?" he questioned, reading the plaque nailed to the pen. The cow in the pen let out a 'moo'. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Nope," Dick said. "He's Damian's."
"It's a cow. You eat it, not make friends with it."
"That's one point of view. Damain's also now a vegetarian."
Jason shook his head. What kind of ideas were swimming around in Bruce's kid's brain?
The kid turned up out of nowhere, when his mother dropped him off on the doorstep. Apparently, raising a child didn't work so well when you were also the head of a criminal empire. And you were pitting that empire against your father's.
Jason wondered what Bruce had been thinking, hooking up with a woman like Talia. She was obviously bad news. Her kid with Bruce was the same.
Or so Jason had thought.
"Grayson! Let's go!" the kid cried out in frustration as he stormed out of the locker rooms. He was dressed in a regular green shirt and jeans with a red jacket which was a little too big for him.
"Right!" Dick responded, grabbing a black jacket. "Do you want to get ice-cream when we're done?"
"-tt-."
"That's not a 'no'."
Seeing the strange sight, Jason almost forgot that he came here to restock his investigation kits.
Cupboard
Tim suppressed a laugh. It would be disrespectful to laugh at while gathering information at the crime scene.
"I knew something had to have happened when she didn't call!" sister to the missing, possibly taken, woman cried to Bruce. Bruce nodded with an impassive face as he took notes. He had guided the hysterical woman onto the couch where she could cuddle up against him while he questioned her. Bruce wasn't comfortable with the contact, but he was willing to do whatever to make the victims and witnesses feel comforted during tough times.
That's not what was making Tim want to burst out into laughter. It wasn't Dick, flicking through the victim's phone for recent calls. Nor was it Jason, who had left the room to question the neighbours.
It was Damian. The ten year old was standing on a chair while he tried to dust down a cupboard. Tim had figured out that someone had tried to neaten up and, according to the sister, the cleaning supplies were up in a cupboard. Damian had the fingerprint kit at the time and insisted on doing 'his job'. Unfortunately, the cupboard was higher up than Damian's height as it rested above the oven.
With a determined expression, the too serious kid had carried a chair across the floor and stepped up onto it.
He dusted and captured the few fingerprints which he could see. Then he turned to Tim.
"What?" he demanded to know in a distasteful tone. "Don't you have anything better to do than stare, Drake?"
Poker
There was a place Grayson seemed to vanish too at certain times. Unless there was a case, Grayson always seemed to vanish on a Thursday night. Damian noticed it during the time his father was 'dead'.
The less said about his father's decision to assist the Feds by faking his death and going undercover, the better.
But, during that time, Damian noticed that Grayson was rarely around on a Thursday. Despite how Grayson was always around the rest of the week. It was always Alfred on Thursday. At first, Damian had been grateful for a few hours without Grayson hanging around however, he slowly realised it was odd behaviour from his brother.
As much as he hated it, he lowered himself to asking Drake what happened on Thursday nights.
Drake gave him one of his usual ignorant looks and asked him what he was talking about.
Damian decided he was useless. He asked Oracle, the data analyst who assisted Just Private Eyes for a fee.
She told him not to worry about it. He told her that he wasn't 'worried', just curious. What was Grayson doing? Why wasn't Damian invited?
He decided to follow Grayson. It took three weeks for him to figure out exactly where Grayson was going. The first two times, he lost him. Grayson was good at loosing tails.
The third time, he managed to figure it out. That presented him with his next challenge.
It was a pub. One of the underground ones with only one entrance he could see.
Damian followed a large man in, using the man's bulk to hide himself from the staff until he could scope the place out enough to figure out the best path from the door to where Grayson had gone.
It was the back door. He snuck in. Grayson was sitting at a round table. Around the table where Todd, Roy Harper and that red-haired photographer that Grayson sometimes called to do some running around for the detective agency.
Todd was the first to notice him. "Hey, Dick! The brat followed you!"
Grayson swivelled around, revealing cards in his hands.
"Oh. Poker," Damian stated, realising which game they were playing. "Grayson, that's a terrible hand."
Grayson grinned at him. "If you think you can do better, then pull up a chair."
"Whoa, Dick," the photographer, Wally West, cried out. "He's underage."
"That just means it's illegal for him to be out there," Todd stated. "I think the law is flexible when it comes to these back rooms. And none of us have drinks. Which I feel is a shame."
"Not after what happened that time-which-didn't-happen," Harper pointed out.
Damian pulled up a chair anyway. He didn't care what Harper and West thought. He was here for Grayson.
"Anyway, since the kid gave away Dick's hand, I'll call," Harper said, matching Dick's bet.
"Same," West said.
Todd looked at him. Then at Grayson. Trained by father, Damian should have guessed he might be suspicious.
"I'll fold," he said, turning his cards up.
Grayson grinned. He had the best hand of the round. West and Harper stared, dumbfounded while Todd cackled and congratulated Damian on his 'poker face'.
Promotion
(definition: activity that supports or encourages a cause, venture, or aim.)
Jason was woken by a banging on his door. He grabbed his gun as he crept towards it. This was supposed to be a safe house, a place to hide out. People weren't supposed to be knocking on the door.
He pressed up beside the door and reached across to open it. What he expected was gun shots from some mob boss or something who had had crossed.
What he got was the Replacement walking in, completely unfazed by how he was holding a gun.
"-I just can't believe him sometimes! He buries me under paperwork like that will keep me from noticing that he's not sleeping and of course Dick's no help because they're both as bad as each other and-"
"I'm sorry, did I skip the part where I invite you in?" Jason questioned. Thankfully, Tim seemed to hear that because he paused in his crazy pacing and finally looked at him.
"You stepped aside and allowed me access. That body language alone indicated that I was welcome."
"Body language? How about actual words? Words, Replacement! They're important!"
Tim's eyes narrowed. The kid was tense and frustration rolled off him in waves. "I know that," he almost growled. "Words are very important but I can't find the right ones to get Bruce to stop working and go home for a night! And the rest of the office is avoiding him and expect me to liaison between them and him." Tim snorted, "some adults."
Jason looked Tim up and down, taking in the shaky shoulders and legs, the tension in his body and the drooping of his head.
"When was the last time you slept?" he asked.
"I've had a coffee, I'm fine."
Jason snorted. Sure, if 'fine' meant 'almost dead on his feet'. Tim stared at him as he stepped closer.
"Anyway, I've come to ask you to come back to the Just Private Eyes office."
"What?" That's not what he thought Tim would ask. He thought a number of things, ranging from 'stop killing' to 'never let us see you again'.
"Come back," Tim whined. "You can get Bruce to sleep and help me with my paperwork and-" If Tim noticed the way Jason placed a hand on his shoulder blade and guided him with gentle presses to the couch, he didn't comment. "-Dick can drop you atop a train blindfolded as part of some crazy kind of 'training' and I'll get to learn from you and-"
"Yeah, yeah," Jason hummed as he shoved Tim onto the couch. "Get some sleep."
Tim stared up at him, halfway to dreamland but stubbornly resisting. "Come back, Jason," he said. "I'll give you a good salary."
"Go to sleep," Jason ordered, shoving the teen's head into the cushions.
"You can use your gun," Tim mumbled into the couch.
"Bruce would never okay that and you know it." Jason didn't like being lied to.
"I could make it happen."
"Unlikely. Go to sleep and stop trying to convince me to come back."
"We have cookies."
Jason stared at Tim with an incredulous expression. Why would he give up his freelancing and submit to Bruce's rules and order that gave no considerations to what he wanted for cookies?
By the time he decided to tell Tim that he could just bribe someone to bring him Alfred's cookies; nothing Tim could offer would be better, Tim's eyes had closed and his chest was rising and falling.
Bubble
"Sorry to burst your bubble but nothing gets done without the Batman finding out about it," Clark Kent felt it important to warn his coworkers.
Barry Allen and Oliver Queen gave him baffled looks.
"He can't be that good," Oliver snorted.
"He has the title of 'World's Greatest Detective' for a reason," Clark reminded them.
Barry and Oliver shared looks before jumping right back into planning. Clark let them, he had warned them and it was up to them what they did with his information. There was still a chance that Bruce wouldn't find out about this. A small change. Only granted by how Barry had taken Oracle's mysterious advice to keep everything on paper and not leave any digital hints of what they were doing. Oliver was still creeped out by the suggestion that Bruce was keeping his eyes on their browser histories.
It wasn't going to stop them from getting this done.
Jason walked into the Just Private Eye office with a gun holstered at his shoulder and a scowl on his face. He level his glare at anyone who dared to take a step towards him as he made his way to the meeting room. Streamers were hanging across the ceiling, courtesy of John 'Manhunter' Jonzz. Barry was zipping in and out as he placed food out on the table.
Dick's head snapped up from where he was working at the table as Jason walked in. "Jay! You made it!"
Jason resisted the urge to punch Dick. He knew it was the older man who had sent Diana Prince; the amazing Wonder Woman, to invite him. He couldn't refuse the invitation from the only person in these offices he admired.
"Why do I need to be here?" he questioned, frustrated.
Alfred walked in with a tray of doughnuts. "Because it would make Master Bruce very happy to have you here." Oliver licked his lips and wiggled his fingers. Alfred stopped him from stepping closer to the food with a cool stare. "It is good manners to wait until the guest of honour has arrived Mr. Queen."
Oliver deflated as Barry rushed past and placed a tray of chicken wings on the table.
"That's why you help out," Barry said in a rush. "Makes the time go faster."
Alfred gave the speedster a proud nod. Barry preened for a moment before rushing out.
Jason chuckled fondly. He missed Alfred during his times away from the family.
Bruce sighed as Tim brought him a memo stating that John had called a meeting and that he needed to be there ASAP. He closed the folder he had been looking at and followed Tim to the meeting room. Tim seemed jittery and Bruce wondered if he needed to start watching his second youngest coffee intake.
"Surprise!"
Bruce froze as his coworkers, Dick, Tim, Damian, Alfred and even Jason yelled at him.
"What is this?" he questioned, once he was certain his ears hadn't been damaged and he would hear whatever the response was.
"It's a party, Bruce," Clark informed him, appearing by his side quickly and wrapping an arm around him as he pulled him further into the room. "For your birthday."
"Happy Birthday!" Dick said to him, rushing forward to give him a quick hug before running off to chat with Wally.
"Yeah, happy birthday, father," Damian muttered before turning to the table and observing the food with a critical eye.
"Surprised?" Tim asked.
"This is a waste of time," Bruce pointed out, the corner of his mouth twitching. This explained the sudden increase in phone calls around the office.
Alfred translated for those who rolled their eyes in frustration. "I believe you have been sufficiently surprised."
"Ha! And they said it couldn't be done!" Oliver congratulated himself as he sipped at his glass of white wine.
Bruce after receiving congratulations from his coworkers, Bruce walked over to where Jason was hanging out in the corner, talking with Tim.
"Jason."
"That's me," Jason responded smartly. "Nice party here, Bossman."
Bruce stared at him.
"I hope you don't mind that we invited him," Tim said. "But he was your junior partner for a while."
Bruce nodded at Tim, indicating that he was fine with it.
"Hope you enjoy the party, Jason."
Jason gave him a shocked look for a few moments before nodding. "Happy Birthday, B."