Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Warnings: Contains the most precious individual in the world. Also, Damian breaks the rules of the road.

Characters: Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain (mentioned), Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon (mentioned), Alfred Pennyworth (mentioned), Bruce Wayne (mentioned)

Summary: Damian and Tim follow through with their internal promises to thank Steph for sewing a pocket in Damian's blazer because they were actually, genuinely thankful. Steph is okay with this.

Steph smiled bemusedly when Tim blocked her from going to Cass's room.

"Uh… hey, ex-boyfriend. Did you need something?"

He smiled. "Just you for a little bit."

She blinked. "Uh… why?"

"I thought I'd take you out for brunch; you love brunch."

She raised an eyebrow and flipped her hair. "I know I'm gorgeous, Tim, but I thought we agreed that I would be the one that got away?"

He rolled his eyes. "Not a date, Steph. I just wanted to treat you. We could get waffles. With blueberry syrup."

She was tempted. She had no idea what Tim was actually planning – she knew it wasn't a date; she had been joking – but waffles were worth the risk. Even if they weren't Alfred's.

Still…

"I was going to hang with-"

"Brown!"

She and Tim turned around to see Damian approach them.

(Wow, he's way to intent for this to be safe.)

"Uh… Hi, Damian," she said, waving hesitantly.

"Are you done with her, Drake?"

"Excuse me!"

"No, we're in the middle of something."

"Too bad. Brown, come with me."

"Damian!"

"Stop whining, Drake."

"Hello!" Steph put her hands on her hips when both boys turned to her. "I get that I'm irresistible, but I feel like I should have some say in this."

Damian was pouting at her, though he'd deny it to his grave. It was adorable. Tim just sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He was probably going to go bald prematurely.

"What did you want, Dami?"

Damian crossed his arms and stuck his nose in the air.

(Brat.)

"We're going out."

"You want me to take you somewhere?" she asked, too shocked to even bother commenting on his demanding tone.

"No. I'll drive."

"Oh my- You can't drive, Damian," Tim said, letting his face fall into his hands like he dealt with this too often.

He probably did.

"I know how," Damian protested.

"Bruce is not going to let you take one of his cars just because – where are you even trying to take Steph?"

Damian looked like he was in physical pain. Or not. Because when he was in physical pain, he went around like there was nothing wrong. So, Damian looked like a normal person who was in pain.

"I'm taking her out for waffles," he said, lip curling slightly.

Steph gaped; Time spluttered.

"You can't! I'm taking her out for waffles! How did you even know she liked waffles?"

"I asked Cain."

"That's sweet, Damian, but-"

"Don't flatter yourself, Brown. I'm repaying a debt; I don't want to owe you anything."

"A debt? For what? Introducing you to reality television?" Tim drawled, one hand on his hip, eyebrow arched.

"Okay, can I just say that's the sassiest thing I've seen from you in a while? Are you taking lessons? Are you giving lessons?"

Tim gave her a deadpan stare, and Damian snorted.

"Also, I've done things for Damian!"

"Like what?" they asked simultaneously.

"Wait, you're not allowed to ask that when you're trying to take her out to repay a debt!"

"She obviously doesn't know what I'm attempting to show my gratitude for; I have every right to ask."

"There's something wrong with your logic."

"I doubt you know what logic is, Drake."

"Says the kid who rushes into everything recklessly."

"That has nothing to do with logic, Drake; you're just proving my point."

"Well, maybe if you thought things out logically-"

"How would you know if I didn't? Are you a telepath now, Drake?"

"Please, you're-"

"Oh my gosh! You're both so cute! I need to take pictures; Dick and I are starting a scrapbook."

They both stared at her in horror, making her cackle. She snapped a picture with her phone because she hadn't been lying.

Not only did Dick actually want to start a scrapbook called Bats and BirdsTM, they were actually adorable. Normally their fights made her want to hide behind Cass because they were vicious when they went at it, but this seemed…

It reminded her more of how brothers fought as opposed to mortal enemies out for each other's blood.

"Brown-"

"Steph-"

"Okay. I have no idea why the two of you want to take me out for waffles today," she said, interrupting them before they could ask her to delete the picture.

(Not that I would, but still.)

"But, I'm willing to go along with it. You both can take me out for waffles. Tim, you drive. Let's go!"

They stared at her.

"You want us to take you out for waffles," Tim began.

"Together?" Damian finished.

Maybe she hadn't thought that through, but they were being adorable and she was pretty sure she could get Dick to pay her for the pictures.

"Yep!"

They shared a wary look, and Steph congratulated herself on getting them to bond over… not wanting to be in the same restaurant as one another.

"Fine."

"If that's what you want."

"Great; let's go!"

"Turn this garbage off, Drake!"

"No, Damian. Steph and I like it."

"Then at least stop signing along with it; you sound like a dying man."

"I do not!"

Steph snickered as Damian imitated Tim's singing voice perfectly. He really was a terrible singer.

"Hey?" She asked, interrupting them. "Does that mean you like my singing?"

"I'm trying to be nice, Brown. Don't force me to tell the truth."

"Seriously, Damian? That was you trying to be nice? I'd hate to see you being mean. Oh wait, I know what that looks like," Tim drawled.

"Just shut up, Drake."

Tim responded by singing along with the radio even louder than before.

Steph watched Damian grit his teeth before the boy reached forward from the back seat and turned the radio off.

"Damian! Wait- Do you even have your seatbelt on?"

"I don't need a seatbelt, Drake."

"Put your seatbelt on, Damian. Dick would kill me if he knew I was driving around with you and you didn't have your seat belt on!"

"I'm not putting it on, Drake!"

"You're just being contrary!"

"Steph, please help Damian put his seatbelt on. Damian can't seem to do it himself."

Steph gaped at Tim. She didn't want to go near him! "What? No! Look at him; he has teeth!"

"Astute observation, Brown."

"Steph! Do you want Dick to kill me?"

"I wouldn't mind."

"Shut up, Demonbrat!"

"Come on, Tim, I won't tell him if you don't!"

"Please, like that matters. He has this instinct when Damian is doing something trivial but possibly life threatening. Like riding a motorcycle without a helmet, or going in the snow without a coat, or watching a horror movie – or riding in a car without a seatbelt. Nothing actually useful, but still."

Steph snorted, especially when she looked back and saw Damian's pout. Because it was true. Dick's ability to pinpoint when Damian was doing something not-actually dangerous but apparently worrisome was uncanny.

*Ring*

"Oh my- He's calling! Steph!"

"Don't blame me!"

"Damian!"

"This isn't my fault, Drake! He wouldn't be calling if you had let me drive!"

"You can't even see out the windshield!"

"Are you going to answer it?" Steph questioned, feeling mildly hysterical.

The car phone was ringing and Dick was calling and it was terrifying.

(Dick's scarier than Bruce is sometimes.)

"Just answer it, Drake!"

"Last time Dick called me in this car, I had to pick you up from school. I'm not ready for this."

"Just do it!"

"Put your seatbelt on first!"

"What will that help?"

Steph answered the call interrupting their argument. They shot glares at her, and she shrugged.

"Hello?" Dick asked.

"Hey, Dick," Tim responded, voice surprisingly level.

"Hey, Timmy," Dick said, tone deceptively light. "I was just calling to check on Little D. Dami?"

Damian cleared his throat. "Grayson."

"Everything all right, Dami?"

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?"

"No reason," Dick responded, but his voice was laced with suspicion. "I just had a weird feeling. Everything's okay, right you guys?"

"I just said that, Grayson."

"Of course, Dick. He's fine."

Dick paused. Steph held her breath.

(Is he buying it?)

"Steph?" Dick asked.

Steph blanched, shooting a panicked look at Damian and Tim. "Yeah?"

"Everything's good right? I know you wouldn't keep anything from me."

The guilt was stifling. She had no idea how he did it; he should be a mom. Well, he already sort of was.

"Damian-"

"Is being surprisingly well behaved. Even if he doesn't appreciate our singing," Tim cut in, shooting a look at Damian and gesturing sharply to the seatbelt.

Damian hissed under his breath, but acquiesced, if only to avoid a reprimand from Dick.

"Really? That's what you were going to say, Steph?"

"Yes," she said, nodding. "Definitely. Everything fine."

"… All right. I'll talk to you all when you get back, then. Have fun."

"Thanks, we will!" Steph cried, hanging up the phone and sighing heavily in relief. "Oh my gosh! I almost died! If he didn't kill me for being complicit in Damian not wearing a seatbelt, the guilt would have suffocated me. You owe me waffles and pancakes!"

"Done," Tim agreed, shaking his head. "It's just so creepy, isn't it?"

"I know!"

Damian snorted, and Steph looked back at him, rolling her eyes when she saw that he had taken his seat belt off again.

"Really?"

"It's restricting my movements."

"It's a seatbelt, Damian. That's what it does."

"Tt. I refuse to-"

*Ring*

"OH MY GOSH!"

"He's calling again! He's calling again! How? Did he put cameras in the car?"

"He's not you, Drake!" Damian spat, but he was eyeing the interior of the car nervously.

"Damian!" Steph exclaimed. "Put your seatbelt back on!"

"Brown-"

"Do it, Damian! Just do it!"

Damian scowled, but followed their directions just as Tim answered the phone.

"Dick? Is something wrong?" Tim asked calmly.

Steph was mildly envious of his ability to act as though he hadn't just been freaking out. She supposed living with Dick – and all the rest of them – would do that to a person.

"Uh…" Dick began. "No, I don't think so. False alarm, I guess. Sorry, I'll let you guys go."

He hung up almost immediately, and the three of them exchanged looks.

"'False alarm'?" Steph repeated.

"I have no idea. I don't know. But, Damian, keep your seatbelt on."

"Tt. You're paranoid, Drake."

Steph noticed that he didn't even move to disengage the seatbelt.

(This is probably why he made such a good Batman.)

Steph was only half sure the waffles and pancakes were worth it when they slide into their booth.

Tim and Damian were sitting next to each other, which was probably a bad idea, but she wasn't going to say anything about it. She wasn't sure if it were worse because they were both wearing oversized sunglasses inside and they – and therefore she – looked disturbingly suspicious, or because they were bound to do something to get her kicked out of this diner for the rest of her life.

(I should have just asked for money.)

"Oh! So what is this all about? I never got an answer."

Damian looked like he was in pain again; Tim just shifted awkwardly.

"Come on! Just tell me. I want to know what I'm being thanked for."

Damian sniffed. "I don't know what Drake is thanking you for, but I'm attempting to show my gratitude for your help in sewing a pocket into my blazer."

Steph blinked. "The secret knife pocket? It wasn't that big a deal."

"It's the only reason I wasn't suspended today, so I'm thanking you. Don't be an ingrate, Brown."

"There's that Wayne charm," Steph muttered, rolling her eyes. "If only you were a few years older."

Damian snorted and pushed his glasses up his nose.

She stifled a giggle. "What about you, Tim?"

"Uh… I mentioned earlier, right? I wanted to do a friend thing; it's been a while since we have…"

Steph stared; she had a feeling Damian was rolling his eyes behind his shades.

(So much awkwardness.)

"You're normally a better liar than that. But, whatever. I'm just glad for waffles and pancakes."

Tim coughed and looked away as she waved down a waitress.

"Hi! I'm Danielle, and I'll be your server today; here are the menus. Can I get you something to drink?"

"I'll have a coffee – black. Could you bring some sugars?"

Steph rolled her eyes at Tim's predictability. "Two milks. Wait – Damian, you drink milk right? I mean, it's an animal product…"

He glowered. "I'm a vegetarian, not a vegan, Brown. Not that I'd expect you to know the difference."

Steph just rolled her eyes. "Two milks, thanks."

Danielle smiled and walked away. "I'll be right out with that."

"Still," Tim muttered, "it's a good thing you drink milk. Otherwise I doubt you'd ever grow."

Damian bristled; Steph did her best to stifle her laugh. Tim had brought height up. This was about to get good.

"Don't be ridiculous, Drake! If anyone's growth is stunted, it's yours. All you ever do is drink coffee and energy drinks. It's your own fault if you never get past your current height."

Tim gaped. "No. Stop. I'm going to grow. Coffee-"

"Is impeding your growth. You'll never get any taller. Or broader. You can't even blame it on genetics."

"I-"

"Here are your drinks!"

Steph giggled and the smug look on Damian's face and the horrified look on Tim's.

(Has he seriously never thought about that?)

"Thanks, Danielle! Can we get a few more minutes to order?"

"Sure thing; I'll be back in a second."

Steph grinned, turning the other two. "All right, boys, you're both wonderfully masculine and will eventually surpass Bruce in height. Look at your menus and find something to eat, huh?"

They both sighed and nodded, pouting slightly. They looked more like brothers than she had ever seen them. It was so cute.

And then Damian blew up.

"What is this?" he snarled, waving the paper menu in the air. "Is this a children's menu? Where is that woman? I don't appreciate her patronizing me; I demand-"

"Sit down, Damian!" Steph hissed, waving her hand at him until he grudgingly complied.

Tim dropped his head onto the table. "We're going to get kicked out. We're never going to be allowed back here. Damian is going to get us kicked out."

Damian leaned forward, hissing. "This is a travesty of proper food service, Brown! Not to mention complete and utter disrespect – treating me like a child!

(Nope. Nope. Not touching that.)

"Damian."

Steph shook her head furiously, not caring if Damian could see her.

(Please don't.)

Tim looked her straight in the eye. "You are a child."

Steph threw her head back and groaned. "You are the worst ex-boyfriend ever."

"Don't insult me, Drake! Denotation-wise, perhaps, but in every other sense of the word, I am not. And this menu is insufficient towards providing proper nutrients. I eat as much as a fully grown female to compensate for my training – and I'm still growing! Thus, I need more calories than any meal on this list could provide me. So, I demand-"

Tim snatched the menu from Damian's hands and gave him the adult menu. "I already know what I'm getting; just look through that."

Damian paused before nodding, a scowl on his face. "Fine. But this establishment-"

"Yes, yes. W.E. will file a lawsuit about handing out kid's menus without asking if a kid wants one or not. I'll tell B when we get back."

"Your sarcasm isn't appreciated, Drake."

"Noted and ignored. You should try the French toast; it's good. You'll like it. The hash-browns are good, too. It's what I'm getting."

"…Fine."

Steph resisted the urge to squeal. She had so many stories to tell Dick. And Cass. And Alfred. All of them.

"Look at you two!" she shouted. "Eating the same food, matching expressions, bickering without trying to stab each other! I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone or something!"

"We're in public; I couldn't stab him if I wanted to."

"Seriously, Steph? You're making way too big a deal out of nothing."

Steph smirked at them, ignoring the glares she could feel from behind their sunglasses.

"Hey! Do you guys know what you want, yet?" Danielle asked, popping up just in time to interrupt would have likely turned into a fight.

"I'll have the Belgian Waffle Platter and then the Short-stack Buttermilk Pancake Platter. Bacon for both, scrambled eggs," Steph said, smiling.

This was going to be great. She was pretty sure that the day would still end up in disaster, but, at the very least, she would get a whole lot of breakfast out of it.

"Gotcha'. How about you two?"

"We'll have two Supreme French Toast Platters with hash-browns. Sausage with just one," Tim said, smiling and handing her both of the menus on the table.

Damian glared at the kid's menu pointedly until Tim gave in and handed it to Danielle.

"Could you throw that away for us too?"

"Of course! Your food will be out in just a little."

"Thank you." Tim waited until she had left to turn to Damian. "You're so difficult."

"Hardly. "

"So," Steph started, leaning forward with a grin. "Alfred told us – 'us' being me, Cass, and Babs – that you – 'you- being you two, Dick, and Jason – had a fun night last night. There were movies, cookies, blanket forts…"

"It wasn't a fort!"

"What of it?" Tim asked, voice laced with mistrust.

(He knows me so well.)

"What? You mean Dick didn't tell you? Bruce took a picture of the four of you together. It was sent to everyone – except for you, Damian, and Jason. For obvious reasons."

She pulled out her phone, unlocking it, and pulling up the photo. She held out her phone, grinning.

She had never seen either of them turn that red. She turned the phone around, snapping the picture discreetly. Not that it mattered; the two of them were so busy trying not to die from a mixture of anger and embarrassment that they didn't even notice.

They shared a look and scooted to opposite ends of the booth, making her laugh.

"Seriously?"

"That… that…"

"We were sleeping. We can't be held responsible for our actions."

"Exactly!"

"What does it matter? It's not like it can be used for blackmail – everyone in the family has it. It's cute!"

She stared at them, wondering if Tim would help Damian when the boy inevitably decided to jump her in order to take her phone and delete the photo.

*Ring*

Tim looked away from her, answering his phone. "Hey, Jay. What's up?" He snorted. "Creepy timing – Steph just showed me. How'd you find out? Of course Dick is happy about it. No, that probably won't work. Everyone has one, so you'll have to do better than that. Yes, I mean everyone. B took the picture. Yes, Cass too. And Babs. Everyone, Jason – do you know what that word means? No, Jason, I'm not- Damian! Stop!"

Steph raised an eyebrow and leaned back in her seat as Damian jumped on Tim and started trying to grab the phone. Damian had all but crawled into Tim's lap, and the older boy was leaning away as far as he could without falling out of his seat – which was actually pretty far, given his sense of balance.

"Just give me the phone, Drake!"

"No! Dam- Jason, shut up! Stop it, Damian! I will hang up on you, Jason!"

"You could call him yourself, Dami," Steph pointed out, taking a sip from her milk. She was ignored. So, she turned her attention to smiling at the other patrons, who were stating at them; they really didn't need to get reported to the police.

"Ha!"

Steph looked back over at them, blinking in surprise. Somehow, Tim had ended up half in the booth and half on the floor, while Damian was smirking triumphantly and sitting on Tim's legs.

(I probably should have let them take me separately.)

"Todd, what do you plan to do about this? Drake is fine-"

"I don't think you're qualified to say that when you pushed me out of the booth."

"That's not the point, Todd. This needs to be dealt with. I suggest we blackmail them. We-"

"Or you could ask," Steph suggested.

Damian stared at her silently.

"Steph," Tim began slowly. "Will you delete the picture?"

Steph grinned and leaned over the table. She tapped the button to delete the picture and smirked and the slack-jawed looks she got from both of them.

"I'll even tell the others to delete the photos, too. It's the least I can do since you're treating me for no reason, ex-boyfriend."

He gaped. "Thanks, Steph."

"Todd, it's taken care of. Brown deleted the picture; she said she'll tell the others too as well. Yes. We saw her do it. Tt. Goodbye, Todd."

Steph grinned as Damian hung up and moved off of Tim's legs.

No need to tell them that Babs had copies saved on her computer and that Alfred had already created physical copies for the scrapbook.

Tim grunted as he pulled himself up and dusted off his shirt. He snatched his phone from Damian with a scowl. "Brat."

Damian's retort was cut short as Danielle walked over with their food.

"Here we go! The waffles and pancakes for you, French toast with sausage for you, and French toast with bacon for you. Let me know if you need anything!"

There was utter silence as she walked away from their table. Steph knew it wouldn't last long.

"Drake."

What she could see of Tim's face looked resigned. He tried anyway.

"Damian, just take the bacon off of your plate."

He snarled. "I demand recompense!"

"Just give it to me or Steph."

"No! First, the children's menu. Now, bacon? That woman needs to be fired! I demand to speak to her employer!"

Steph winced. "Hey! If you think about it, it's Tim's fault."

They both turned to her sharply.

(Sorry, Tim.)

"He said sausage on one plate only. That's not exactly clear."

Damian turned to Tim with a furious scowl. "So you planned it!"

"What? Steph- no, Damian, I didn't plan it! It was an accident – on both our parts. I wasn't as clear as I could have been and she just didn't understand. No one is trying to force you to eat meat!"

Damian leaned forward, and Steph subtly moved utensils away from him. He shot her a sneer before turning back to Tim.

"All of you say that it's not healthy for me to be a vegetarian. Including you, Drake. How do I know this wasn't a ploy?"

"Oh my- It's not a ploy, Damian. I just wasn't thinking."

Damian cocked his head thoughtfully, staring at Tim for a few more seconds before a smirk overtook his face. "That's not exactly a surprise then."

Tim threw his head back, but Steph just laughed, relaxing now that Damian had sat back down.

"You walked right into that one."

"I know," he groaned.

Steph's lips quirked when Damian flicked both pieces of bacon at his brother's face. Tim didn't even react.

(Adorable.)

"Oh! That was so good!"

Damian and Tim stared at her.

"What?"

"That's disgusting, Brown."

"I wouldn't say that, but… How did you eat all of that?"

She rolled her eyes. "I always have room for breakfast food. You should be embarrassed that you don't."

Tim's smile was confused but fond. Damian still looked disturbed.

"Was everything good, then?" Danielle asked, walking up to the table with a check in her hand.

Steph grinned and kicked Damian under the table when she noticed he was scowling at their waitress. Kid had no chill.

"It was excellent, thanks."

"All right, here's the check. Have a good day!"

Steph's smile dropped as he woman walked away; there was way too much tension at the table now. She'd take a guess and say it was because Tim and Damian had started playing tug-of-war with the check.

"Let go, Drake!"

"I'm paying, Damian."

"You drove."

"That has absolutely nothing to do with this!"

"Give me the check, Drake! I'm paying my debt; you're only here because you wanted to treat her. You can do that later."

Steph hummed in agreement, noting the smug smirk on Damian's face amusedly. Tim frowned, but she had no sympathy. He should have just been honest about his reasons.

"But we're already here, so I might as well do it now. You can do it later."

"I have no desire to repeat this process."

"Just let me pay."

"No!"

"I'm older!"

"How is that relevant?"

"I-"

"You could split the check," Steph suggested.

As funny as it was to watch, there were way too many witnesses here.

They looked at her briefly and then looked at each other. They filled their quota of grumbling, but both pulled out their wallets, so Steph counted it as a win for her.

Especially since she didn't have to pay a cent.

"Well, check's 35.57. Maybe, six dollars for the tip? So, just go an even 21 dollars each?"

Damian snorted.

(Here we go.)

"Why should we tip that woman?"

Tim heaved an exasperated sigh. "It's polite to tip."

"No. You tip someone who's service was excellent. Her service was not excellent. She doesn't deserve to be tipped. We can pay 18 dollars each and leave her the change if we have to be polite."

He was hissing again. Like a cat. Steph snorted; she needed to mention that to Cass. They were trying to figure out what Damian's spirit animal was.

"That's… We can't tip her 43 cents, Damian."

"That's what her service was worth."

"You're just upset about the kid's menu and the bacon!"

"It was an insult!"

"I thought we established that it wasn't!"

"The problem being that you thought."

Steph let out a whistle. "Again! Burn!"

"Really, Steph?"

"What?"

She could feel him rolling his eyes. Also, he was doing that tilting thing with his neck, which was sort of a giveaway.

"Damian, we're tipping."

"I won't."

"Then I will; and that means I'll be paying more than you."

Damian snarled. "Fine!"

(The fact that that worked is just sad. But not really surprising.)

"Good," Tim said, sounding so smug it annoyed even her. "So, 21 each-"

"You can pay 21 if you want, Drake. I'll pay 24."

(Oh no.)

Tim's jaw clenched. "28 for me."

"35."

"40."

"46."

"56."

"OH MY GOSH! Stop!" Steph exclaimed. "I get that you're rich, but please. Just pay the 21 and be done with it."

For a second, she thought she'd convinced them.

"67," Damian spat.

Tim scowled, pulling his wallet out and opening it. "302."

Damian pulled his wallet out and cursed. "289," he growled.

Tim smirked and smacked the wad of cash on table. "Too bad, I guess."

Damian just sneered, putting his bills right next to the money Tim had laid down.

Steph just stared at the pile. "This is why I wanted to hang out with Cass today. Because she doesn't carry hundreds of dollars in her wallet and fight with her brother about who can leave a bigger tip. Let's just… go."

Steph stood up, shaking her head and walking out of the restaurant without a backwards look. Waynes were so embarrassing. Honestly.

"I feel like, at the end of this, you both owe me more brunch than you did before we started"

"I'm not doing this again, Brown. We're even."

"Maybe later."

Steph shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Remember to put your seatbelt on, Dami."

"Shut up, Brown."

"Do you want to get another call from Dick?"

"Leave me alone, Drake; stop being paranoid."

"Wow, really? You are going to tell me to stop being paranoid? Really?"

Steph threw her head back and laughed.

(I don't know why I love these idiots.)