Bruce had promised a punishment. Damien knew better than to sneak out of school. Washing and detailing all the civilian cars seemed like a good start. Damien was four. He needed supervision so Bruce set up a lawn chair in the garage and worked on his lab top with his cell phone in his other hand.
Step 1: Vacuuming the interiors.
"I ain't afraid of no gross! Gross Busters!"
"WAIT! I NEED THOSE RECIEPTS!"
"Hose head already slurped them up."
"Just wait while I take the vacuum apart."
"You're making a mess. I don't think this is going to get your cars cleaner."
"I really need those receipts."
"It's 7:11, SLURPEE TIME!" cheered Dick attacking the next car with the vacuum.
"Yes, it is still an unholy time of the morning," muttered Bruce.
"Bruce didn't your date last week have diamond earrings shaped like roses?"
"Why?"
"Umm, Hose head slurped one up I think."
"Damien, do you think maybe you could curb your vacuuming enthusiasm a bit and pay attention to what you are vacuuming."
"Hose head was hungry and you keep emptying his tummy."
"Why is Master Bruce vacuuming out the cars?"
"I dunno," Damien shrugged, continuing to play tetris on Bruce's computer.
"I see," Alfred nodded and returned to the kitchen.
Step 2: Wipe down the interiors with a child friendly solution of vinegar and water.
"Damien! The spray bottle is not a water gun!"
"I'm shooting the grime."
"There are no guns in the house."
"I'm killing the germs."
"No."
"Bruce give it back. It's a spray bottle. Just a spray bottle."
"No."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Damien climbed into Bruce's lap. "You really don't do well with earlier than nine in the morning, do you?" Damien looked at the article Bruce was reading about in the paper. It was about a shooting at one of the ghetto schools. Bruce was always bothered by guns.
"It could be a fire hose," suggested Damien playing with the knit on Bruce's sweater then resting his head down. There was something comforting about the smell of Bruce's cologne.
When Alfred came to check on them again, Damien was sprawled in Bruce's lap fast asleep. Bruce was snoring with one arm tucked around Damien. The newspaper was laying in a puddle.
"Very good Sirs." Alfred wiped down the interiors as a certain little boy had been rather over enthusiastic with the cleaning spray and it would not do well to let the surfaces stay wet. Sleep was so dear in Wayne manor that it was considered at the top of the discretionary activities list. If sleep was happening and something didn't absolutely need to be done, sleep continued.
Step 3: Wash the exteriors.
A very important business call disrupted their nap. The phone woke Bruce and Bruce's startled jerk woke Damien.
Bruce talked and talked, fussing with the computer and pacing about the garage.
Dick made sure the car window's were done up and he made sure the tops were up on the convertibles. Hmmm.. He moved Bruce's computer back into the kitchen. He covered the tool box with a tarp.
"Damien, I'll be back in a bit, I just have to take care of something," called Bruce forgetting to make eye contact.
Alfred watched as Damien came through the kitchen. He returned shortly with his raincoat and boots. He filled a bucket with soapy water then trudged back through the house.
Alfred tapped him on the shoulder. "No boots in the house Master Damien." Alfred mopped up after the small boy who was doing his best not to slop water through the house.
"Sure thing Papa."
Alfred in retrospect thought that the rubber duckie and precision screwdriver set should have been a fairly good indication that Bruce had become derelict in his supervision duties.
The last he heard from Damien for about half an hour was the door to the garage slam shut to the off key singing of, "Rubber Duckie you're the one. You make bath time so much fun! Rubber Duckie I'm awfully fond of YOOOOUUU..."
Tim was going for a morning run. Bruce had gotten up with Damien for once so he'd probably been awakened right after Damien was done feeding and taking care of Lucy and Peck Peck. That would have been a bit before six in the morning. It was so relaxing to have a nice sleep in, then start the day with a run. There were currently about fifteen cars in the large civilian garage. Though Tim thought it was a drag washing and detailing them, Damien seemed excited about his punishment. "Daddy's going to supervise me Tim!"
Someday Bruce would figure out that D didn't care what he was doing as long as he got to do it with Bruce. You want me to crawl through stinky sewers looking for a crocodile man? Sure! Learn obscure languages with you? Sure! I'll even brave paparazzi and cheek pinching, bad talking socialites for you.
Bruce's current cluelessness was adorable thought Tim with a fiercely withheld chuckle. I never thought in my life, my brain would put the words Bruce and adorable together. Tim started running a little faster. He stopped when he saw the firetrucks pulling in through the front gate. He looked back to the house? There was no smoke.
Tim ran up watching as the firemen hopped down from the truck approaching the garage. They noted water streaming out under the doors. One fireman looked in through one of the windows. His whole body language relaxed and he started to laugh, nodding for his buddies to come look.
What's he done this time thought Tim, running up to go see what was happening. There was only one member of the household likely to result in firetrucks and laughing firemen on the front lawn.
The little monkey somehow activated the over head fire suppression sprinklers to turn the whole garage into ...
"Working at the Car Wash, Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, At the Car Wash. Car Wash!" Damien's rubber ducky playfully kissed the hood ornament on the Bentley as he danced through the rain of the sprinkler system with a large soapy sponge and full rain gear.
Tim covered his face in disbelief. I hope he didn't turn it on playing with fire, he thought. Tim looked through the spray to see a step ladder pulled up to the alarm system and a precision screwdriver set scattered nearby. Oh dear.
Alfred who was talking to the firemen, put up an umbrella and went out into the garage.
"Master Damien," he spoke as he stepped into Dick's line of sight.
Dick looked up at Alfred with a happy smile. "Papa, I made a car wash."
"I see. Perhaps you would like to proceed up to the study and inform Master Bruce that the fire department would like to speak with him. He has been tying up the household line and the cell phone for some time now."
"Why are the fire department here? I'm sure I turned off the alarm." Dick looked a little worried now. He ran out of the garage to see a pump truck, a rescue truck and a half dozen snickering firemen.
"It's not a fire. It's a car wash ... I just... umm..." Dick didn't need anyone to tell him how much trouble he was going to be in now. "Uh oh."
Alfred tapped him on the shoulder with his umbrella which had been taken down now that they were outside. He signed and spoke, "I believe you were going to speak with Master Bruce."
Dick nodded urgently, sat down on the ground, took off his rubber boots and ran back through the soggy garage and into the house in his sock feet yelling, "Don't worry Papa. I know the rules. No boots in the house!" The whole concept of soggy wet sock prints also being against the rules was the farthest thing from his mind.
A pair of firemen went to turn off the fire suppression sprinkler system.
Tim picked up the ducky that was floating down the driveway trying to contain his amusement. He hid behind the firetruck when Bruce came out. Now Tim wanted to save the world from it's own misfortune as much as the next hero but he wasn't getting between Bruce and D. Those two deserved each other.
Alfred was politely apologizing to the fire department. Explaining that the young master tended to be rather too clever for his own good and had no doubt turned off the internal alarm while being unaware that the system automatically alerted the fire department. "I am afraid gentlemen that it sometimes defies predictability quite what mischief the young master will get into."
After everyone had left, Alfred sat down both Bruce and Damien. "Master Bruce, though I understand you are upset with the choices Master Damien has made today, before you speak with him about this, who was supposed to be supervising?" There was fire in Alfred's eyes.
Bruce and Damien spent the rest of the day alphabetizing the fiction section of the library. They'd volunteered. Alfred's disapproval demanded response. Damien wiped down all the baseboards with Bruce trailing along behind him.
Barbara was taking Damien for the rest of the evening. Saturday night was often a big crime night in Gotham. The Young Justice team had a mission in South America tomorrow, plus early Monday morning there was a big prison transfer going on. A section of Arkham had been revitalized and prisoners that had been temporarily moved to Blackgate were transferring back. Notable among the transfers were Ivy, Harley and the Riddler. The rest of the week should be quieter.
Alfred and Tim dropped Damien off at Barbara's apartment.
Alfred brought a lasagne and Tim had Damien's backpack in one hand and Damien's hand in another.
"I don't have to tell her what happened today do I?" asked Damien skipping along.
"Keep living in that fantasy world where she doesn't already know," teased Tim. "Do you think you can stay out of trouble for her? Most kids don't have quite the relationship with 911 that you seem to be managing."
Jason read the emergency services report online. He shook his head and grinned.
A dialog box opened on his computer.
Hi Big Bird. Thank you for Friday. Oracle was going over police reports and newspaper articles. I think the Bludhaven arsonist is James Finnigan. He went to Oscar Greer Public School and a lot of the other places in his past have recently been burned. The school is having a centennial celebration this week. Are you interested.
Baby Bird why not give this to the cops?
I don't know any Bludhaven cops.
Robin's screen went black. He looked over. Mommy Babs had hacked him?
It's Baby Bird's bedtime. Oracle Out.
Barbara or Oracle, smiled at the surprised expression on little Robin's face. It was so adorably confused. Eight years of computer hacking training, specialization, computer hardware and software development. He looked over at her in awe.
"You didn't loose your touch sweetie. I got better. Don't worry. You'll still be able to pull one over on Batman."
"Can you show me how you hacked into my stream like that past the firewall and the blue light encryption protocols?"
"Some of it is that I have better toys than you but it's your bedtime."
"But!"
Barbara swept Robin up into her lap and headed towards the tower's living level. She gently unclasped his cape and set his mask aside. Unlike Bruce, Alfred and Tim, Barb didn't hold back from letting herself treat Damien as a young child where she thought he might draw comfort from it. She slipped his PJ's on him and he snuggled into her arms.
"You are such a suck," she teased massaging the back of his head until his sleepy eyes were at half mast.
"I was talking to someone," yawned Damien. Maybe it should have been weird because Mommy Babs used to be his best friend. They used to be in the same class. Weird time stuff meant she was grown up age and that's just the way it was.
He looked up at her trying to imagine himself being daddy and her being mommy and somebody else that belonged to both of them being him sized, sort of like he knew he used to imagine. A five year old him kept appearing in his imagination and scolding big him. 'I don't know who you are but you're not me go away!' then five year old him would turn on the child and start yelling 'You're not real go away!" and then he'd feel a little embarrassed because was that anyway to act? Then he'd climb back in Mommy Bab's lap and everything would be okay except for feeling guilty for the bratty feelings.
Was it okay to imagine a little bit of Mom, lending Mommy Babs warmth, like an angel? Damien was oblivious that Oracle had left Jason freaking out with a short cryptic message after his screen went dark but the older him took a back seat when he was held and when she stroked his hair. He was tired. Mommy Babs always stopped talking about grown up things with him a while before bed and then insisted on a routine. If he asked her about the hacking more now she'd just tell him it was a morning thing.
Barbara lifted Damien over into his little bed and tucked him in with Bear. He wasn't all the way asleep but he was nearly there. Bruce kept saying how hard it was to get him to sleep but she never had a problem with it. Maybe the clock tower was a little less exciting and worrying then the Bat cave and the huge Manor. Her living space was small and homey? It was hard to say.
Red hood was freaking out. Baby Bird wasn't going to leave him hanging was he? 'Crud I'm talking about a preschooler.' What did Oracle know? Did he need to change bases? He scrambled for stuff and left for the Clock Tower. He needed to do some damage control. He hid the guns in a secure third location first. The Clock Tower was Bat territory and Oracle had been shot when she was paralyzed. If he took guns, it was a death sentence. Batman might not kill but Oracle thought like a cop. If she was backed into a corner by what she perceived as an immediate threat, she'd use lethal force. Jason took one gun to get him near then switched to ... um what could he use? His fingers twitched and he felt incredibly lame but he took a baton, some brass knuckles and a Taser. 'I'm so dead, again.'
Oracle knew what she'd done. She contacted Batman first, on a closed channel. "Did you know Robin was in contact with Red Hood?"
"I'll be there in 15 minutes. This isn't a topic for over com units," answered Batman. "Red Robin, continue patrol through the east side. Watch for gang traffic. I have a detour to make."
"What happened?" demanded Batman slipping into the Clock Tower silently.
"Robin asked him to investigate the arsonist James Finnigan," answered Oracle. "Did you know?"
"Where's Robin?" demanded Batman.
"Asleep in bed," answered Oracle. "Jason is Red Hood correct? The Red Hood that was using lethal force against the low life that evaded the system? Wanted on several counts of suspected murder?"
Batman sighed removing the cowl. "He was brought back to life through the combination of an inter-dimensional incident involving Superboy and a Lazareth pit. He trained under Talia's guidance for a while. A pit induces temporary insanity and effects the memory. He was so very lost. This is going to sound terrible but the best I could do for him was to stay away. As long as he wasn't in my jurisdiction..."
"What's going on with him and Robin?" asked Oracle. She noted that they were under surveillance.
"Tiny miracles. Jason's come a long way since he crawled out of that pit. I can't be the one to help him Barbara. Everything about our relationship was poisonous." Bruce knew Oracle's systems almost as well as she did. He knew they had an audience.
"So what did you do?"
"When I found out Jason went after Joker all the way to New York to protect Robin, I told Robin to stay away from Jason; that he was dangerous and yes I know my little boy. He wasn't home twenty four hours before he was reaching out. I just stayed out of it. Robin, the first Robin, Dick, he has a way with broken souls. I can't undo what I did to Jason but I can step out of the way for someone that might have a better chance at it. Dick doesn't want Jason to fix him. Dick just wants... family."
"You trusted Jason with Dick?"
"I don't know!" responded Bruce in exasperation. "I've kept an eye on it. Did you know Jason has friends now? Real friends, that aren't criminal overlords trying to use him towards their latest master plan. His last bust had zero fatalities."
Jason who'd been listening, left feeling like he couldn't breath. He stopped by Robin's room. The little guy was fast asleep cuddling his teddy bear oblivious to the machinations of genius brooding megalomaniacs.
Jason was including Oracle in the genius megalomaniac list though Bruce had the market on brooding cornered.