a/n: Okay, so I went way off topic with this one. The prompt was 'ninja.' I mean... I kind of used it. In the summary. That still counts! It's a little rushed because I was busy celebrating my mom's birthday yesterday, so I had to double up on prompts today, as well as attend class. Anyway, have more Batfamily, because I have a weakness for fluff.
4. Ninja (aka Quiet Moments)
Sometimes, when Bruce had time between the false, glittery persona of Brucie Wayne and his dark crusade for justice as the Bat, he got glimpses of what his life might've been like if he had never started the vigilante business. Those days often entailed late mornings curled up in the library, a thick book on his lap and a cup of coffee at his side. There was peace in the monotony of the action, and Bruce reveled in the small amount of quiet it brought.
That was, at least, until a shriek pierced through the silence. Murdered it, really. Left it to die in an alley way.
Bruce was much too used to this occurrence, and he was loathe to get out of his comfortable chair, so he settled for closing the book and listening a little more intently. He was fairly certain that he would have heard the confrontation even if he tried to block it out.
"Damian, you little shit, give that back!"
"Make me, you pathetic excuse for a human!"
"Guys, you really shouldn't—ow, shit! Dami, that totally hit me!"
"You're supposed to move, you pathetic cretin. You call yourself a—Drake!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, did I startle you with a completely unprompted attack? I can't imagine what that would be—hey, no knife-throwing in the house!"
"I'll show you knife throwing."
Loud footsteps followed Damian's proclamation, and Bruce worried slightly. Tim was the fastest out of all of them, and he was sure Damian wouldn't actually hurt him… On second thought, Bruce stood. Damian would definitely hurt him.
The shouts escalated as the fight progressed, all three boys apparently scrambling around the manor. Bruce carefully set his book on the coffee table, where it had sat for the past three months, and straightened his sweater.
"Damian, put that knife away!"
"Why doesn't Drake come over here and make me?"
"Get away from me, demon spawn! I didn't even do anything to you!"
"Tim, I really don't think that you should throw that…"
Bruce sighed, took a deep breath, and threw open the door to the library. He tried to keep his expression vaguely threatening, despite the scene that greeted him.
Dick had apparently frozen in place as soon as he heard the door swing open, and he was partially crouched behind a bust of one of Bruce's ancestors, looking very much like a spooked deer. Damian and Tim had also frozen, but they seemed less willing to turn their attention from each other. Damian was crouched over Tim, knife raised and a fierce scowl on his face, while Tim was sprawled on the ground, a priceless vase that Bruce had always hated raised high above his head. Bruce cleared his throat, gaining the glares of both boys, while Dick subtly tried to inch his way away.
"He started it," blurted Tim. Damian's grip on the knife tightened, and it moved an inch closer to Tim's neck.
"Drake put Kool-Aid in my shower," Damian snarled. Bruce willed his expression to stay stern, but it was much harder than he was willing to admit now that he could see faint blue streaks on Damian's skin.
"I did not!" snapped Tim. "Like I would stop at Kool-Aid. Superglue in the shampoo would be much more appropriate."
Damian whirled around to glare at Dick, who had made pretty impressive progress down the hallway.
"It wasn't me," Dick insisted, looking hurt. "Come on, Dami, why would I do that?"
"One of you has to be lying," Damian snapped. "Because that only leaves Father and Pennyworth." Damian looked back at Bruce, his gaze accusatory. That accusation disappeared as Bruce simply raised an eyebrow. "Since it was neither of them, that only leaves—"
"Hey, Batfreaks! What'd I miss?"
"Todd." Before Bruce could say or do anything, Damian was up and down the hall. A moment later, there was a surprised shriek from the main room.
Bruce needed more caffeine for this. He left Dick and Tim in the hall, disappearing back into the library to grab his lukewarm coffee. He cast a longing glance at the book on the table before finally allowing himself to grin. As appealing as the thought of a normal life was, Bruce wouldn't trade what he had now for anything.
P.S. It was totally Alfred that did it. He likes to play pranks because no one ever suspects him. And he thinks that Dami is way too serious for a ten year old.
P.P.S. I've gotten a lot of positive reviews, some favorites, and even some followers! I have no idea how many of you are still following this progression of drabbles, but I really appreciate all of the support. It really makes my day. Thanks so much!