Damien felt something on his cheek, rousing him from his slumber. Batting it away, Damien drifted off towards sleep again. Something hit his cheek again lightly. Damien jolted awake, grabbing the knife from under his pillow and holding to to the throat of the threat. Alexandera half laid on his bed, face level with his, a streamer blower in her mouth. She didn't even seem perturbed by the steel against her neck, blankly staring at him.
"Ukhti! My apologies, had I-" the brightly colored paper flipped into his mouth as her cheeks bulged, blowing. Damien reeled back, spitting the paper out. "Ukhti, please! What is the meaning of this?" The Chef pulled the blower from her mouth, holding it akin to a cigar.
"Happy Birthday, Smokebomb. Get dressed, you're punishment starts today." Alexandera stood, and Damien felt his brow pinch when he looked at her outfit. She was wearing a t-shirt in red, black, and yellow. There was a 'R' on her chest. She was wearing a recreation of his uniform. Pride and confusion swelled in his chest at the sight.
"What do you mean?" Damien slipped the knife back under his pillow, and hopped out of bed towards his closet.
"You're not a normal kid, you don't have much to take away, and you're grounded from Robin duties, regardless. So instead," she paused to drink from her flask, festive ribbons tied around the spout. "You're punishment is to be a kid today. You're gonna ride all the ponies, and play all the games, and stuff your face with greasy and unhealthy food until you throw up."
"That sounds utterly embarrassing. I am not a child, you make it sound like I am to behave like a toddler." Damien grumbled, slipping his tank top off and putting a red shirt on.
"You've gotta make up for lost time, freaky assassin brat. Now hurry up, Noriko and Alfred made cupcakes for breakfast."
"That does not sound nutritional." Damien didn't bother changing his black sweatpants.
"Like I said, greasy unhealthy food. Today is all about being a kid. Come on, you're sliding down that stupidly long banister. Al and I polished it extra just for today." Damien scowled at her mocking childish tone, before quietly asking,
"Did you say ponies?"
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Noriko was on Damien the second his feet hit the ground floor, hugging him tightly and singing happy birthday to him, occasionally slipping in Japanese before switching back to English. Gene held Little Lexie and Levi in his arms, shaking his head fondly at his wife's behavior. The Chef grinned smugly at Damien's panicked expression, the boy unsure how to react.
"Good morning, Master Damien and happy birthday. We have breakfast laid out for you in the dining room. Your brothers and sisters are already up and waiting." Alfred glided into the room, and it reminded Alexandera of Selina. "Your Father had to leave early this morning for a meeting, but should be home by noon."
"Fucker." The Chef flexed her hand, fingers popping at the joints.
"Lexie, not in front of the children." Gene sighed, turning his attention to Damien. He was also wearing a Robin shirt. So was Noriko. Even Alfred forwent his usual black tie, the red fabric a nice pop of colour. "Happy Birthday, Damien. I want to say sorry now for whatever antics Ko and Lexie are gonna drag you into today."
"Thank you, Mr. Jones. I, too, apologize for any unbecoming behavior from my... Extended family." Damien awkwardly withstood the tight hug from Noriko until she finally jumped back. He swore she had a fire in her eyes.
"Alfred, Lexie, and I made you the best birthday breakfast ever! Don't worry," she looked a tad embarrassed, "I just decorated." She grabbed his hand, and drug him into the dining room.
There was more balloons than wallpaper. Streamers hung haphazardly from the ceiling, attached to floating balloons, and a large banner hovered over the unlit fireplace. The 'Batfam', as Dick liked to call it, were talking with each other, each dressed in a shirt with some variation of their uniform on it. Kori, Dick's girlfriend, had multiple party hats on her head. She was the first to notice Damien, and clapped, shouting out happy birthday, the others echoing the sentiments. Damien nodded in thanks. Alexandera placed a hand on his head, and pushed him to the head of the table, where his Father would normally sit.
"Alright, Smokebomb. The Diner Boys send their best wishes and gifts along, you'll be opening those later." She pushed into the chair, and lit a candle in a tall stack of waffles. "Make a wish, you've got 119 more candles to go."
"Umm... Ma'am? Did you say 119?" Barbara asked, stirring sugar into a fancy tea cup.
"Brat's never had a proper birthday in fifteen years. Add together all those candles, you get 120. This is candle one." The Chef ruffled Damien's hair. "Hope you got good lungs." Conversation picked up as everyone started in on the sweet buffet of breakfast.
Alexandera loaded Damien's plate with a little of everything. Muffins, sweet egg tarts, cupcakes, various candies, even waffles oozing with chocolate. She watched as Kori smothered her waffles in mustard, and tried not to gag. Damien looked appalled by the amount of food she piled on his plate, but wisely didn't argue, slowly making his way into the mountain. Noriko was still pestering Tim, worriedly checking his forehead and wiping his cheeks off with a napkin she licked, the boy flushed red and trying not to voice his annoyance. Duke had his finger caught by baby Levi, gushing how strong the infant was. Barbara, Dick, and Kori were having a hushed conversation in their own little corner. Cassandra wasn't bothering with conversation, too busy with stuffing her mouth, and her pockets, with food. Alfred and Selina were talking about their favorite pieces of art.
Damien grimaced at the overly sweet pastry on his tongue as he surveyed all this. His "family" was all together, aside from Father, eating at the table civilly, and not for show. Not like last year's Christmas Fundraiser. It was strange to him. They all seemed happy, even Tim, who was now attempting to back away from Mrs. Jones, had a smile on his face, small as it was. From his peripheral he watched his Uhkti. She wasn't paying attention to her plate, rather she was texting on her 'normal' phone, her usual scowl in place, but her brow wasn't pinched, and there wasn't the usual tenseness in her jaw. Damien reached for a scone and dropped it on her plate, and she flinched slightly, looking at him.
"You have taught me breakfast is important. Please, eat." Damien didn't turn to look at her, shaving aside the overly sweet waffle in hopes of something more subdued. Alexandera huffed, amused, but picked the scone up anyway, icing still dripping from the warm treat.
"At least I don't need to threaten you to eat now, Brat."
Damien mulled over a snarky remark that would possibly rile her up, when a loud blaring horn echoed in the halls. The majority of the table jumped up, ready to fend off the attack when Alfred, who slipped out of the room unnoticed, led in an ornately dressed band into the room, their hats almost big enough to rub the edges of the doorway.
"Uhkti, what is this?" One of the men began singing loudly.
"A Mariachi. Deker and Tazer's gift to you." The Chef smirked, swaying in her seat to the tune, as she lit two more candles, held in her fist. "Make a wish."
Damien glared at the offending fire, unsure if her idea of a birthday was worse than his Father's, wishing this would end quickly.
He blew out the two candles.
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Alfred led the band, The Chef in no way surprised he spoke fluent Spanish, and the rest of the party goers outside to the sprawling backyard. Alfred stopped in the doorway, stock still a brief, before he continued, holding the door open as he ushered everyone through, only stopping to hold a hand out to stop The Chef, a brow raised questioningly.
Alfred expected the petting zoo, the reptile and exotic animal handlers, a canvas tent set up with the food he, Noriko, and Alexandera whipped up before retiring to bed. Something subdued enough that Damien wouldn't outright refuse, as he had in the past.
And it was all there...
Including two extra tables of food wrapped in foil, a large inflatable bounce house and slide, a large slip and slide being showered in water and coloured bubbles, a massive above ground pool with cartoonishly large floaties hovering in the waves, several whiskey barrels, and just beyond all that, a mish mash of chairs, trash cans, overturned poker tables, and cobbled together walls sitting erect.
"Miss Fox..." Alfred started, uncertain on how exactly to ask how she managed... This.
"Holy Shit!" Tim gushed, running towards the slip and slide, then doubling back yelling out "I gotta change!" Alexandera held an arm out, nearly close lining the teen
"Not before we take a picture. Then, you all can change into swim suits."
"Shouldn't we wait for Bruce?" Kate asked, eyeing the food table.
"Daddy Wayne should have rescheduled his meeting." Alexandera mockingly replied. Dick's face twisted into a sick frown, looking remarkably similar to The Chef, who nearly gagged at her words.
"Uuuh... Yeah, please never say that again, Ma'am." Most of the Batfam politely hid their smiles and laughs.
"Agreed. Alright people, under the tent, picture time. Al, you too, front and center." Alfred, distracted by thoughts on how bad clean up would be tonight, followed the instructions of The Chef. Everyone hurried to the tent, the smell of food heady and rich, the Mariachi band sitting on a bench, already cracking into the drinks. Damien, dumbstruck as the rest of his "family", let himself be pulled and pushed into place. Alexandera grabbed a tripod left leaning against the tent pole and set it up, sliding her phone into the stand.
"Hey, Wheels, roll forward a bit, you're being blocked by Tangello's hair." Barbara took a second to process The Chef's words, and for a moment felt a flush of anger, but bit it down.
"Sure thing... Smurfette." The Chef's head popped up, staring at Barbara, before a bone chilling lopsided toothish grin spread across her face.
"Good one." Alexandera nodded, going back to her phone.
"I can't tell if she's offended or not." Barbara muttered to Kori.
"She is not. She smiled, I believe she respected your... Clapback." Damien piped up, tugging the wrinkles from his shirt. Duke jaw dropped at his choice of words "Her nicknames are a sign of familiarity. You should be honoured."
"That's her smile?" Barbara shuddered. "I don't know which is worse, hers or Jokers."
"Still fucked up she called Barb that." Tim scowled.
"It is kinder than the name she gave you, Drake." Damien smirked.
"Oh yeah? And what's that?"
"Skeevy Little Shit." Damien proudly stated. Duke and Cassandra snickered at Tim's angry face.
"At least I have her respect, I guess."
"You do not, that is an insult, not a nickname."
"Alright Nerds, we got fifteen seconds, play nice." The Chef moved swiftly, reaching into her pocket. Squeezing into place behind Damien, she bent down, arms resting on Damien's shoulders in a slight hug, her chin resting on crown of his head, counting down for fifteen to keep time. Damien sighed, but did as commanded. And just before she reached seven, she spoke. "Selena, does Bruce still wear that pink lingerie set you gave him?"
"He wore it last night." Selena purred back, playing along. The group devolved into shocked gasps and laughter, even Damien sputtered a laugh.
And the camera gave shuttered click.
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The Batfam broke into groups, each enjoying different aspects of the backyard activities with explicit instructions to stay away from the ramshackle area in the back, the one with the over turned tables and cobbled together walls. Damien having been ordered to 'play' in the bounce house. Selena, Noriko, Gene, and their two babies enjoying the pool. Duke, Tim, and Cassandra were competing at the bobbing for apples station, the whiskey barrels full of bright red orbs. Kori was teaching Dick some flailing dance while the Mariachi band played an upbeat tune. Barbara was recording Dick's poor attempt to copy his girlfriends moves. The Chef lost track of the rest in the chaos.
Alexandera sat under the food tent, avoiding the oddly sunny day, skin already turning a bright pink. Alfred sat with her, a glass of iced tea in his hand.
"I must ask, Miss Fox, how did you get this set up in a single night?" The Chef shoulders bounced as she sipped from her Long Island tea. It was sweeter than she was used to her liquor being.
"I have my ways." Alfred cocked a brow.
"You were able to build a veritable playground on Wayne Manor Grounds, with all the security that entails, without alerting the system."
"I may have had one of my more trusted men disable the security for the night, while a good handful more slapdashed this whole thing together and left before Bruce got back, and before anyone woke up." Alexandera leaned back to rest her arm on the table next to her, elbow knocking a tray of fruit on ice. "We turned the security back on, don't worry."
"I'm more worried what happens later. We do have a number of priceless artifacts within the Manor." Alfred said, tone scolding. "Among other things."
"Al... My goons know that Wayne is off limits, if only because Damien is off limits." Alexandera sternly defended. Alfred stared her down a moment, before his serious expression lightened to his usual enigmatic smile. "If any go after him, or here, they lose their right to oxygen."
"I'm glad to hear it, though you understand that we will upping our security after this."
"I can loan you my guy, he's got few warrants, but he's got an eye for tech." Literally. He wore an eye patch. Alfred laughed, the ice in his glass tinkling.
"I fear Miss Gordon may take offense to that."
"Who?"
"Miss Gordon... The one you called 'Wheels'. Which was highly uncalled for." Alfred levelled her with a look, but Alexandera was stuck on the name.
"Gordon... Where do I know that name from?"
"Most likely it's the fact she's Gotham's Commissioner's daughter." The Chef's pink face paled.
"Oh shit." The Chef took a large swallow of her 'tea'. "I fucked with a Gordon."
"Hmm, yes. You have a nasty habit of messing with powerful people's children." He remembered when he first met her, when she learned Damien was Bruce's son, chuckling. "Are you going to teach her to cook, too?"
"Have you always been this snarky, Al? Where did my overly polite, and widely skilled, butler go?"
"Miss Fox, you couldn't afford my services, I was never your butler." Alexandera lightly smacked his arm. "Besides, this is a party, is it not? I don't believe I'm on duty."
"If that's the case, I'm making two more of my drink." The Chef went to stand, but Alfred halted her, pointing to a glass pitcher with lemon rings floating along with the ice
"I believe I'm a step ahead of you, Miss Fox." He winked, sipping at his own 'tea'.
"Al, you sly fucker." Alexandera laughed, grabbing the pitcher, looking to where Damien was sitting in the inflated castle. "THAT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE BOUNCING, KID!" Damien's head whipped around at her shout, and scowled, standing up unsteadily. He stared her down as he gently jumped.
"I worry for your home, Miss Fox."
"Why's that?"
"Master Duke and Miss Cassandra have been in a prank war recently, and Master Damien has been studiously taking notes."
"As long as it ain't glitter." Alexandera felt a pit form in her stomache at the thought.
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Alexandera used Alfred's back to block the wind as she lit a fist full of candles, a coating of wax forming on her fingers. Damien stood patiently, as he waited for her to hold her fist out, him obediently blowing the large flame out. It took two blows. Noriko and her kids, and a few Batfam were racing down the slip and slide, going in clean, and coming out the other end covered in multicoloured foam. Some were taking their chances with the bobbing for apples, some weren't the fruit, but onions cleverly painted to look like apples, as Kori had delightedly discovered. That fact had ruined the game for the rest, too nervous to get a mouthful of onion juice. Cassandra was covered in a large snake, while Duke was giving a baby alligator chin scratches. Alfred was lounging on a pool floaty, a drink in hand, while Selina was tanning her back on another floaty, both chattering happily.
"You having fun, brat?" Damien mulled the question over. While he couldn't enjoy the pool or water slide with his arm in a cast, he was enjoying the easy day. Tim and Duke had challenged him to a flipping contest in the overly large jump house, until Dick came in and showed off his old Flying Greyson routine. Him and Kori had bonded over the small ponies and other four legged animals, petting soft furs. Selina had rescued him when Noriko had seen him stumble over a discarded apple, bumping his broken arm on the barrel, distracting the worried woman with a wink so he could slip away unscathed. The Chef had handed him her phone earlier and was wished happy birthday by what felt like the majority of The Narrows. Gene answered his questions about babies when he snuck up on him burping and bouncing baby Levi to sleep, surprised, bewildered, looking tired, but happy. The parents had left back upstairs to their rooms to out the children down for a nap.
"Yes, Uhkti, I am having fun." Damien answered honestly, inhaling deeply to blow the second fistful assortment of half burned and fresh candles out. "I thank you for the effort you put into today." He watched as the animal handlers began crating various reptiles and quadrupeds away, Cassandra reluctant to hand the python over.
"Best is yet to come, Brat." The Chef gave her feral grin. "Alright fuckers! Back to the tent!" Her booming voice spooked one of the ponies, as the Batfam and others meandered to the tent. The various foods were half picked over and missing. The pitchers of tea, "tea", water, and lemonade were more melted ice than beverage, half empty. From under the table, The Chef bent down, sliding boxes from below out, opening the first.
"I got mediums, larges, and XLs, find a shirt, and alap it one." She ordered, the group only hesitating a brief moment before diving in and dividing out plain white shirts to everyone. Damien struggled a moment to get his arm cast through the hole, but succeeded. His triumph immediately ended as a plastic wad smacked his face, Tim and Duke snickering. "Brat, use that to cover your cast. Dick, grab that box. Everyone, follow me." Damien could hear the insides of the boxes rattling and clacking. Alexandera lead the group to the field scattered with various tables and chairs. A few barrels were sitting pressed up against the freestanding walls. Standing in the center of it all, the group waited as The Chef placed her box down, texting Gene and Noriko.
"What do you have planned now?" Damien asked, watching as The Chef hummed putting her phone in her pocket.
"Super Soaker War." A giddy energy pressed through the air. "There is enough guns in here that everyone gets one. Different styles, too. Both Teams will have three barrels to 'reload', along with water ballon 'grenades'. The ground limits extend to the forest, out of bounds is marked off, you cant miss it. Keep physical contact to a minimum. If you're hit, hand in the air, go back to your HQ, three minute timeout, then get back out there. Winning team is the one with the least amount of colour. Everyone pair off, rock, paper, scissors. Winners with winners, losers with losers. Choose your team captain amongst yourselves." The Chef turned to Alfred, and lost, his paper to her rock. Damien bested Kate, and soon was huddled with his team, Tim unfortunately crouched next to him as they decided who would lead. Tim was insisting himself, as the 'smartest', while Damien voted for himself, even pulling the birthday card. His Uhkti would be proud. Cassandra snapped her fingers repeatedly, getting Their attention, before signing.
"If they make Damien's mom captain, then Damien should be Captain, he'll have the best shot at guessing her tactics. If not, then Dick or Alfred should be Captain."
"She is not my mother!" Damien spluttered, an odd heat on his cheeks. He ignored the looks he received. "I agree with Cassandra."
"I must refuse the role of leadership, Master Grayson is best fit to lead." Alfred smiled, looking to the group as they all agreed. Both teams walked back to the center of the field, The Chef watching over as Gene and Noriko played rock, paper, scissors. Noriko won after six rounds after they kept choosing the same sign.
"Okay, bonus rule. Gene and Noriko have baby monitors on them, if you hear their tax breaks crying, they're off limits until they get back, so dont pull any cheap shots. Both sides of the field have extra weapons, hidden balloon staches, and surprises. Team Captains, meet up and play rock paper scissors one more time. Winner picks which side of the field they want. Losers get an extra minute to get into position. Game time is what... 2 hours? Everyone fine with that?" There was agreements from both sides. Barbara and Dick squared off, Barbara winning. She thought a moment but picked the left left, furthest from the mansion. The Chef grabbed a box, and set a comically large analog clock. As Barb's group began to leave, Tim called out.
"Is it fair to have her on the team? She'll know what's out there!" Tim pointed to The Chef. She snorted, wiggling her flask out from her pocket.
"I wasn't the one to set this up. Hell, it wasn't even my idea."
"Whose was it?" Damien asked, cocking his head. "Marcus?"
"Nope. Lex's."
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It'd been forty minutes, and both sides had casualties. Barb had stayed back in tree cover, Kate as her bodyguard. In the boxes of water guns, both sides had waterproof headsets to communicate with each other. The Chef was currently loudly from one tree to another, back pressed against rough bark. Her white shirt streaked with red from the opening battle. Damien was quick to target her, not that she was upset, she had went after him, too. She'd just missed getting him with her own blue water. Right now, she was being instructed to find whoever was up in a tree. They'd gotten Duke not ten minutes again. Gene was stalking the area some twenty feet area, creepily silent from years of pretending to be santa, apparently. The Chef breathed deep, and went to run to another tree, and just barely missed being hot in the face by water. She could hear the faint sound of pumping, and then heard Gene splutter.
"Out!" He called, rifle style gun held above his head as he began to jog back to HQ.
"Good show, Mister Jones! Miss Fox! That's the closest anyone's gotten to me since is settled in up here." It was Alfred!
"How in the fuck did you get up there, Al?" She could hear his chuckle from above, but couldn't figure out which direction it was, left or right?
"Very carefully, Miss Fox. Very carefully." The Chef peaked her head around the tree, and pulled back with an un-Chef like yelp. "I do believe you are trapped. Unless you run in a straight line, i will have a clear shot." He was giving her an out.
She wasn't leaving without some sort of victory, however.
"Hey, Al. How's about you join our side?" The Chef hedged, slowly pumping the slide to her shotgun style water gun
"I don't believe you could offer me anything that could make me betray the children or Mrs. Jones." The Chef could almost make out where Alfred was. Carefully turning to face the tree, and hopefully get a shot in before she was struck.
"Not even if me and my Boys take care of the mansion for a week? Breakfast, lunch, dinner, fuck I'll even clean the toilets for you." The Chef called as a last ditch effort to avoid this already lost battle. "I'll personally clean Big Wayne's superhero panties. They gotta suck to wash." She waited a minute, and with no response from Alfred, she strated to rush out from her cover.
There was a splash, and a hiss. The Chef was dry.
Selena was glowering at somewhere above.
"Out." She muttered, raising a small pistol on the air. The small tank attached to the gun decidedly red. "You know I'm going to tell them, right?"
"I won't tell Bruce where his preferred cowl went to, if you stay silent." There was a rustling in the leaves, slowly echoing down.
"When did you join the game?" Alexandera asked, bewildered. Not only to the additional player, but that her bribe had worked.
"Oh, Ragamuffin, I'm always playing, it just depends on which side." She winked, her mascara somehow not running. "Ill leave you to it. See you soon." Selena ever so nimbly made her way through the woods. A walking bush was suddenly taking her place, and The Chef jumped, not noticing it's approach.
"Al?" The Chef asked, slowly raising her shotgun to the side, a show of peace. He did the same with a sniper style gun, slowly removing the hood to his ghillie suit. "Holy shit, that's cool." She laughed, amazement evident.
"I do believe we need to speak with Miss Gordon about my... Employment." Alfred smiled, gesturing for Alexandera to lead the way.
"Okay, okay, be honest, was it the panty offer?" She chuckled, sipping from her flask, offering it to the butler.
"Truly, its not the underwear that's the worst." He took a sip from the flask, the lemony long island tea he'd made earlier filling his mouth. "It's the socks."
He laughed when The Chef gagged.
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It was an hour and a half in, and Damien was crouched behind an over turned wall. Earlier, during recon, him and Cassandra had found two long paint rollers slipped over and taped to pool table cues, makeshift swords. They rested in two different barrels half filled with red water. His white shirt had the barest hints of blue, Duke getting him once, and then Selena had made quick work of marking his team before she disappeared into the forest. He knew he couldn't trust her.
"Im getting worried. Its been quiet, and I haven't heard from Alfred." Dick said over the headset. Damien felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. He hadn't noticed, but Tim was right. Where was Alfred?
"Incoming hostiles, three o'clock!" Damien peaked around his cover, and just made out figures emerging rapidly from the trees to the free standing walls.
"They must have run out of water." Noriko said, oddly serious. She had been very focused through out the game, the only person aside from Dick that had no blue stains. Damien brought his gun around, resting the barrel on his cast to steady it, when he was hit in the face with... Purple water? Raising his hands, he tracked the trajectory of the shot.
"Out! They have Alfred!" Damien ran to to their base, scowling. "Alfred switched sides!"
"What?!" Tim shouted. "That's not fair!"
"Neither is Selena playing the field, but we've been through worse. Everyone regroup!" Dick ordered, as a volley of water balloons rained down from above. "Shit! They made trebuchets!" Noriko squealed loudly as one hit her chest, across the battlefield he could hear Gene call out an apology.
Water ballon fire was returned by Cassandra, literally diving between cover, avoiding blasts of gun fire. Damien slipped behind a wall, Dick had ripped the bottom portion of of his white shirt of to make a sling.
"I am down for another minute. Alfred is at the tree line, next to the furthest barrel. Kate is next to Barbara, possibly guarding her. Gene is with her on the trebuchet, she's possibly his spotter. I could not see Duke, Selena, or Uhkti." Damien submerged his gun in their barrel. The second sword him and Cassandra found waiting in the water. "They may be skirting the around the trees to flank us." Dick flung a water ballon, it just missing Gene.
"You and Tim head that way, be careful." Damien scowled at being paired with his 'brother' but nodded, scampering to the trees. Tim pulled him back as a large gust of water missed his side.
"Shit!" It was Alexandera. "Come on, Brats! Isn't it hot out? Dontcha wanna cool off." Damien could hear the pumping close by. They'd gotten closer than they expected.
"I am perfectly content in the shade." Damien called out. He looked to Tim, then upwards to the canopy of the trees. Tim got the message, and Damien crouched down, to give him leverage, grunting when he kicked off with a jump to reach the bough of a limb. "You realize you are out matched, Uhkti? Surrender is your only option."
"Not a chance, we got Alfred on our side!" A water ballon missed him wide, it didn't even pop when it landed. "Fuck." Damien whipped around the tree and shot, The Chef dropping down, and rolling into a bush.
"That's poison ivy!" Tim called from above. More curses were heard as The Chef struggled to leave the plant. Panicked, she was barraged by the two Robins. Her shirt, hair, face, and shorts dripping red, as the boys laughed.
"Fuck you!" The Chef raised her weapon on the air. "Was that really poison ivy?!" Tim laughed harder, before a choking noise was heard. Damien looked up, and jumped to the side as Duke fired at him. Damien returned fire, and Duke couldn't dodge the hit.
"Damn, Duke, you got me right in the mouth!" Tim jumped down from the tree, holding his gun up in one hand, as he wiped his face with the other. "Hmm, tastes like... Blue raspberry?" He looked at The Chef.
"Yeah, and yall got cherry. We used Kool aid to dye the water. The premade stuff." The Chef was squeezing water out of her hair. "Was that really poison ivy?"
"No, I figured y-" Blue water blasted in his mouth again. "What the hell, lady?! We're both out!"
"Shit move, kid. That really freaked me out." Duke was doubled over with laughter as the two began firing on each other. Damien coughed to get their attention.
"As you are out, and in our territory, you are now my hostages. Hand your weapons over." Alexandera blinked, red droplets running down her face.
"That isn't in the rules."
"Neither was switching sides, but Alfred and Selena seem to have done so anyway." Alexandera sighed, tossing her shotgun to him, nodding for Duke to do the same. Tim whooped a laugh and went jogging back to HQ, Dukes pistol in his hand, Duke following after him. Before Damien, could lead The Chef, she stopped him, pulling a sealed bag from her back pocket. It was filled with candles and a lighter. Damien waited patiently for her to light the first fistful.
"Are you having fun?" She asked him once again, as he blew out the first batch of candles. She relit them, before licking her fingers and extinguishing one carefully. He blew those out, too.
"Yes, Uhkti, I am. I will have even more fun, once we emerge victorious from this water war you declared." He aimed his gun at Alexandera. "After you, Lady Chef." She scoffed, then gave a wicked grin.
"You forget, Smokebomb... We have The Tangerine on our team." Damien had to process what she had said for a moment, before he went running past her, calling out into his headset.
"Where's Starfire?!"
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Bruce walked into the mansion, and was surprised by the lack of Alfred greeting him. He was used to being debriefed as to going ons of the mansion, especially with all his children under one roof. And Selena. Opening the coat closet, he hung his out suit coat up, the gift he'd ordered for Damien in his hands. Thinking Alfred might be in the kitchen, he checked. There was no Alfred, and the kitchen was a mess. Odd, Alfred always cleaned up after breakfast, and lunch. The dining room was a ramshackle mess of half eaten food, balloons, and streamers. But still no one. He called out from the foot of the stairs, and received no answer. Bruce had grabbed the banister to make his way up, when he faintly heard the sounds of shouts. His childrens shouts. Not caring that the gift he'd bought might break, he dropped the gift, and went running to the double doors leading to his expansive yard.
Bruce faltered a moment, seeing his once manicured yard turned veritable amusement park, but the screams persisted. He untucked his shirt, pulling the compact Batarangs he always kept on his person. He arrived just in time to watch Dick's partner, Koriand'r soaring above, a large barrel in her hands, bright blue liquid pouring from the top as she laughed.
"Fowl! Powers aren't allowed!" He heard Tim shout.
"Miss Fox said nothing against it, Drake!" Kate hollered back. Bruce watched as orbs flew across the yard, a man he didn't recognize being guided by Barb.
Dick pushed a wall that was on top of him off, hopping up and yelling,
"SCREW THE RULES, RED TEAM, FULL ASSAULT!" Dripping wet children and adults began to meet in the middle of the field, barely using cover as they sprayed each other with red and blue water. Water balloons hit and exploded in a volley of colours. Kori had grabbed another barrel and was sloshing it at anyone she could see drenched in blue. A shuffling bush was crawling across the lawn, powerful stripes of blue hitting their marks. Damien was swinging an unwieldy looking red sword with one hand, leaving Red marks on... The Chef from The Narrows. Dick and Selena were using various acrobatics to avoid being hit by each others water.
A loud ringing echoed over the shouts and laughter.
"TIME!!!" A dripping wet Chef called. All movement ceased. Both sides of the field helping fallen friends and foes stand. Some hugging and leaving purple stains on their shirts. A woman he didn't recognize was squealing and jumping excitedly, gushing praise and awe to the Tamaran Princess.
"... What?" Was all Bruce could manage. All eyes turned to him in surprise.
"Master Bruce, you're home early." The bush, Alfred said. "Forgive me for not greeting you ar the door. I was... Indisposed." Bruce went to respond, but all that came out was a wheeze of air, as a water balloon popped on his chest. His dress shirt stained blue. Looking up, he watched at The Chef pulled another water balloon from... Her bra?
"All forces!" She yelled, voice booming. "NO HOLDS BARRED!" She flung the second balloon as hard as she could, stumbling on the follow through, and soon every water gun was turned on him. Red and blue drenching Bruce as he dove for cover.
He reached for a forlorn water pistol that sloshed weakly as he went to aim at the closest person. A torrent of red fell on his head, as Kori flew by, laughing.
For twenty minutes he tried to outrun the tidal wave of colours, futile as it was. Even Alfred didn't move to side with him.
He couldn't remember a time when he'd heard his children laugh so much, so freely.
He couldn't remember when he had done so either.
.
.
.
Having a mansion had many down sides. The upside was the massive water tanks. Everyone was showered and changed within an hour, no congregating and mingling in the living room. Video games and board games were scattered about. Selena was doing slight of hand tricks with a cookie to a toddler, and Barbara was gushing over a babies giggles is their Father played peek-a-boo. Damien was sat on a chair, blowing out the third of a fistful of candles. Alexandera Fox, The Chef from The Narrows, ruffled his hair affectionately, and unlike when Bruce did so in the past, Damien didn't scowl. He rolled his eyes, like many teens would, but he didn't frown. He actually smiled a bit. It pained Bruce. Almost made him jealous. But looking around, he couldn't help the swell of contentedness at seeing hia family so cozy.
"Ahem." Bruce softly got the crowds attention. "So... Who won?" No one answered a moment, before shouts of perceived winners were tossed back and forth. Alfred chose to walk in at that moment.
"If I recall, Miss Cain was remarkably dry." Cassandra puffed her chest out.
"I took all the hits for Barb!" Kate called, "Not a drop of red on her!" Cassandra deflated.
"I know one thing for certain." Barb added. "You definitely lost, Bruce." Laughter rung at his expense, and he was fine with that.
"Alright, Brat." The Chef said when the laughter lulled. "Present time, you got truckload worth. And if any of my diner boys gave you something inappropriate, Alfred can confiscate it."
"Thank you for the privilege, Miss Fox." Alfred dryly retorted, but he smiled.
Bruce felt like an imposition, as he watched his blood son open gift after gift. A new series of novels, a switchblade, a home made knitted hat, a large box of imported candies, new hand wraps, a whetstone, socks, a box full of mini liquor bottles.
"I'll take that!" The Chef huffed a laugh, tossing tiny bottles at the various adults. A tiny bottle of gin rolled to a stop at Bruce's feet. Gift after gift, until the paper was taller than Damien was sitting. Until all that was left was Bruce, and the box in his pocket.
"Damien." Bruce finally crossed the threshold he'd been leaning on, handing over his small box. "This is for you. Happy Birthday, Son." Unlike all the other gifts he'd received that day, Damien looked up to Bruce, and asked.
"What is it?" And that hurt him all the more, that his son would question his gift.
"A watch. He gives them to his wards on this special occasion." A voice he recognized, smokey and otherworldly. "Eid milad saeed." Bruce turned and locked eyes with-
"Talia?"
"Mother?"
Bruce and Damien asked at the same time, surprised and suspicious.
"Hello, my son. Hello, everyone." Talia gracefully swept into the room. Someone clapped once behind Bruce, as he walked to meet Talia's approach.
"Perfect timing! Al, you got the camera?" The Chef stood, and Damien watched as the feral grin she wore morphed into something soft and near serene. The hairs on Damien's neck prickled and the honed sense of danger buzzed loudly in his ears. He reached his uninjured arm out and grabbed Alexandera's hand.
"Uhkti..." Damien pleaded softly. That wasn't her smile. Something was wrong. The Chef calmly looked down to Damien, and it was so wrong to see auch a placid and happy expression on his face. Damien turned to look at Gene, and the man was wide eyed, hand to his mouth.
"Uhkti?" Damien schooled his expression as he looked to his mother. "You call her sister, but do not greet your mother?" Damien resisted swallowing hard.
"Hello, Mother." Damien didn't stand. Couldn't. He felt tired, shakey. His broken arm throbbed, and he heard a rush in his ears. He felt like he was back in The League. He was waiting for his punishment.
"Hello, Ma'am! I'm Alexandera Fox, and I'm a friend of Damien. I've been teaching him how to cook. Smart one, your son." She sounded so friendly and jovial. She inserted herself between Talia and Bruce, the latter stepping back to allow room for her. "He's told me about you! That you've taught him a lot and all that. Real sweet kid."
Talia glanced down when The Chef grabbed Talia's left hand in both her own shaking it vigorously.
"He has?" Talia didn't so much as budge at the intrusion of her personal space, or the jostling of her arm.
"Yes! Im so glad you made it for his birthday! We were a little worried that Bruce wouldn't make it, but here he is, and here are you! Just in time for a family portrait!" The Chef didn't let go of her hand and turned to Alfred. "Is the camera ready, Al?"
"Yes, Miss Fox." Alfred didn't look up from the view finder. Bruce felt his brow pinch at the personal nature of the nickname.
"Great!" The Chef's bubbly voice chirped. She turned to face Talia. "Say 'Bitch Says Ow?!'" Talia was suddenly pulled forward, and a sickening crack was heard as skull bounced against skull. Gasps followed the crack, and Bruce was stumbling back, a burning in his jaw. The Chef turned back to Talia, who recovered quickly, and splashed a brown liquid in her eyes, the woman yelping in pain, stumbling back and wiping at the whiskey on her face. Bruce felt a kick to his groin, and doubled over, another strike, this time on the other side of his jaw. Through watery eyes, he half saw The Chef jump on Talia, fisting her hands into her long dark hair, and begin to bash her head into the plush carpet.
"YOU FUCKING TORTURED YOUR SON!" Thud.
"YOU TURNED AN INNOCENT CHILD INTO A MURDERER!" Thud.
"HE'S JUST A KID!" Thud.
"HE'S MY KID!" Thud.
"I WON'T LET HIM BURN!" Thud. Thud. Thud.
Talia reached up to claw into The Chef's face, but The Chef managed to get her teeth on the womans hand, biting down hard enough blood ran down her mouth. Bruce managed to get up, the only one moving to help as the others looked on in shock. He hooked his arms under Alexandera's own, but before he could lock his fingers behind her neck, her head shot backwards, and he felt his nose crunch harshly. Blood immediately blocked his nasal passages.
"AND YOU!" She was on him and screamed in a feral fervor, his head tossing back and forth as she slammed her fist into either side of his face. "YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER!" Thud.
"YOU COULD HAVE MADE IT BETTER!" Thud.
"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT US?!" Thud.
"THE CAPED CRUSADER?!" Thud.
"YOU CANT EVEN PROTECT YOUR SON!" Thud.
"HIS ARM IS BROKEN!" Thud.
"HE GOT HURT BECAUSE OF YOU!" Thud.
"YOU'RE GONNA KILL HIM JUST LIKE YOU KILLED JASON!!!" Thud. Thud. Thud.
"UHKTI!" Damien grabbed her swelling, bloody fist. "Uhkti... Please." Damien hugged her, pulling her off his Father, aware of his Mother's gaze, but ignoring it. He held his sister and felt her claw at his shirt holding him tightly. He could hear her muttering but couldn't make out the words. He smoothed a hand over her hair, much like she would do when she was stressed.
"Dick, Gene. Take Father to his room. Selena, Alfred take Mother to hers." Gene was nudged by a stone faced Noriko, her husband misty eyed as he tore his gaze from his friend. "We will speak of this in the morning when everyone is calm." The beaten were led from the room, and the rest filtered out. Alfred only looking back once, nodding to Damien. To his surprise, Tim hung back, and offered to help him herd The Chef to her room. Neither spoke as they half dragged a zombie like upstairs. Damien made a move to break off to his room, to grab a med kit, but the iron grip didn't let up, and he could hear the seams pop to his shirt.
"I'll get mine." Tim scurried off, already knowing what he needed. Damien opened the door to her room and switched the light on. There was a half empty bottle of liquor on the bed, and he kicked it aside before carefully sitting his Uhkti down. Her expression was hollow, and her lips moved but no sounds came out. The grip on his shirt didn't budge.
"Lady Chef?" No response.
"Miss Fox?" Her lips didn't stop moving.
"Uhkti?" He could almost make out the words she mouthed.
A knock on the door startled him, Tim opening it, holding a large medkit. Behind him was Gene and Noriko. The former had a red eyed Lexie, cheeks stained with tears, the latter was feeding Levi a bottle. Tim crouched before The Chef and grabbed her free hand, and began to clean her bloody knuckles.
"How is she?" Gene asked, gently placing his squirming toddler down, holding her hand as she tried to break free, trying to get to The Chef. She cried silently.
"Unresponsive." Damien sighed, watching Alexandera for any sign of reaction to the alcohol on her hands. None. Gene shook his head. Noriko let Levi hold his own bottle, and reached down to grab Gene's hand, in doing so, he released his grip on Lexie, who shot forward and crawled onto the bed next to Alexandera.
"Oba?" Lexie whined, and hugged her side. The Chef's arm came around, and locked the toddler to her side, even as Tim kept cleaning her wounds.
"Is that safe?" Tim asked, eyeing The Chef.
"Yeah." It was more a rush of air than words, as Gene walked into the room, Noriko closed the door behind them. "She's... Grounding."
"Grounding? That was a panic attack?"
"As far as it is for Alexandera."
"I knew she threatened to punch Father, but Uhkti is not one for pointless, undirected anger." Gene shook his head.
"Maybe not now... But there was a time when her temper was a hairs breath away from boiling over. Ive only ever seen her this angry twice. Once when someone tried to rob our diner. And once when we were held up by gunpoint." Gene crouched down next to Tim and watched The Chef's lips. "Oh thank god, its not 'Hail Mary'."
"She's Catholic?" Tim asked, and finally Alexandera flinched, bandages were wrapped around her hand
"No. She was raised in a Catholic Orphanage. If she was saying her Hail Mary's she'd still be liable to fight if something threatens her. She a fighter." Gene felt his wifes hold on her hand tightening and he brought it up to kiss it tenderly. "She wouldn't hurt the kids. She's... She's good with kids, even if she says she hates them, even if she's rough with them she'd never hurt them. She went to anger management to get it under control. Im surprised this even happened."
"Uhkti, I need your other hand." The grip on his shirt loosened, but the second it left his shirt, it latched to his wrist, pulling it close. "What is she saying, Mr. Jones?"
"She's saying 'I'm sorry'." Damien felt a burning in his eyes and he leaned his head on her shoulder, ignoring the cold alcohol dripping onto his wrist and down his fingers.
"It is okay, Uhkti. I forgive you." Damien whispered. "Thank you for protecting me."
Alexandera sobbed. And finally closed her eyes.
.
.
.
Alfred closed the door quietly, and faced the crowd of worried young adults and teens.
"She's okay."
The crowd sighed in relief.
.
.
.
Damien woke to pitch black. A click resounded in the room, and soon golden light illuminated an exhausted woman, heavy bags under tired eyes. The candles were held out to Damien, and he blew them out.
Another click and Damien caught sight of Lexie tucked between him and Alexandera, a stuffed dragon in her grip, sleeping. Damien blew the candles out again.
A third click, and candles showed Gene sleeping against the door to the room. Noriko head rested on his thigh, Levi next to them on a pile of folded blankets. Damien blew out the lights.
A fourth click, Damien raised his head and saw Tim asleep on the bench to his window. Damien looked back at Alexandera, her eyes still hollow, looking through him, but
holding the candles steady. He blew a final time, resting his head back down.
"Happy birthday, Damien." Her voice was raspy, and her breathing evened out quickly. As of the whole interaction was merely a dream, or she'd been asleep the whole time. Maybe she was.
The only thing that reassured him that it was real, and she was awake, was the smell of whiskey on her breath. It comforted him as he drifted off to sleep.
"I love you, Uhkti."
"Love you too, baby bro."