#if batman's gonna have a ton of adopted kids with black hair and blue eyes

[finemealprompt]

DP x DC Prompt #22

When Jason Todd had left his little brother to watch his mom while he did a supply run, he wasn't expecting to come back to a bunch of police.

Staying hidden, he learned that his mother had died and his brother had been taken to be put in the foster system. But they were looking for Jason too.

Running away, Jason vowed to find Danny.

But when they're reunited, they've both shared one thing: death.

[thecatduet422]

Chapter Seven: The Patsy Card

Fandoms: Batman (Arkhamverse), Jessica Jones (TV)

Pairing: Jessica Jones/Jason Todd

Rating: Mature (for language, depictions of violence, and adult themes)

Tags: Slow Burn, Angst, Crossover, Alternate Universe- Canon Divergence, PTSD, Shared Trauma, No Beta

Summary: After escaping Kilgrave, Jessica moves to Gotham and starts her new life as a PI, even starting her own agency- Alias Investigations.

Yeah, criminals keep trying to hire her, and some bat-fetished vigilante keeps sending his kid over to "check-in" on her, but for the most part, Jessica's life is pretty stable.

Until some guy in a hood wants her to follow Bruce Wayne.

Chapters: 8/? (42,524 words)

One Two Three Four Five Six Eight

AO3 LINK

Chapter Seven: The Patsy Card (10k words)

She got the phone a week later. 

It was in her mailbox, packed away in a large yellow envelope filled with bubble wrap. Although at this point, the bubble wrap was useless. The phone was old as hell. Just a small black flip phone that probably came out when she was in high school. Small dents chipped along its sides, and the antenna had… chew marks? 

Jessica flipped it open. The screen gave nothing away, just a blank blue background with three words on the bottom; call, menu, contacts. Jessica went to contacts and found one number. 

Sure as hell wasn't an area code she recognized.

But weird number aside, this was the burner phone Jason made a big deal about? This was shit. Utter shit. Jason was paying her a ton of money for this case, yet he couldn’t dish out a better phone?

Jessica huffed, tossing it in her desk drawer. She paused, her eyes catching onto the white envelope. Jason’s money. 

That was a good point. Exactly how did Jason get this money? He claimed it was clean, but Jessica seriously doubted that. Looking at Jason’s getup, the money definitely wasn’t his. No well-off guy is going to be wearing tattered jeans and a cheap-ass hoodie… in the summer…

Why?  

Ugh, nevermind. It wasn’t her business.

Jessica slammed the drawer shut. She decided to ignore her persistent thoughts by grabbing a snack. But when her body took her to the freezer, the image came up again.

Jason, mad from the heat in that hoodie. His face twisted with anger, like he was gonna rip Malcolm in half. With his teeth. But what Jessica kept thinking about was that, even in such a rage, his stance was posed. Completely steady as he pointed gun, ready to shoot.

Take care of her…

Jessica huffed, closing the freezer door.

What pissed him off? Malcolm’s a junkie, sure, but he isn’t threatening. Jessica was pretty sure a fly could land on his nose, and he would be too stoned to notice. Hell, Malcolm wasn’t even rude.

Jessica collapsed back into her chair, pouring herself a drink while she thought it over. Then it occurred to her- did it have something to do with Wayne?

Even though Jason hasn't told her why he wants her to follow him, there was obviously something. The rage and paranoia Jason wore told her that this case ran deep…

The scar… Jessica wouldn't be surprised if it had something to do with the scar. 

And then there’s the name. Jason. Not very subtle. The only thing is that Jason Todd's supposed to be dead. 

And yet, Jessica couldn't find anything on this skiing accident. Pinpointing the time and location of death was impossible. The obituary didn't say shit, and the number of morgues Jessica’s reached out to, trying to find a record of the body…

She shuddered. There were a lot of weird calls that day.

And then Jessica nearly tore her hair out when she couldn’t find anything on Jason Todd. No birth certificate. Absent on picture day (every fucking year). Adoption papers? Not viewable to the public. 

She took a swig of Jim Beam. The taste was less familiar than her usual Jack Daniels, but the burn was just as invigorating, feeding the fiery determination she felt. Jessica was desperate to find, something. Anything.

And so, she was gonna do something stupid.

She pulled up her laptop, the article she just found this morning still on the screen. The words in the fancy font glared at her, and Jessica glared right back.

Wayne Foundation’s Annual Gala. Celebrating 20 Years!

Jessica's seen Trish attend a gala before. She witnessed the ridiculous hours it took to get ready , only to be shoved in a stupid dress and critiqued by people who thought they were hot shit. 

Needless to say, it was not her scene.

But goddammit! A chance to snoop around in Wayne Manor . Bruce Wayne's home. She couldn’t pass it up. If Jessica was going to find a clue anywhere , it would be there. So, it was time to put on the big girl pants (or rather, dress ) and go to this fucking thing.

She started to read the article. 

The Wayne Foundation’s Annual Gala, celebrating twenty years, blah blah blah... No date or time listed. Just that it’s held at the Manor, as always…

Invitation Only.

Oh. That’s why.

Jessica sighed, rolling back in her chair. 

She seriously doubted they would give an invite to some nameless PI… No doubt Wayne Manor would be geared with a bunch of WayneTech shit, so breaking in was a definite no.

You know who to call…

And with that thought creeping into her head, Jessica took out her cellphone and pulled up the name, her thumb hovering over it.

Trish.

It’s been six months since they last spoke. Or rather, since Jessica bothered to pick up the phone. Trish still called. Occasionally, she left a voicemail.

At least tell me you’re okay …

Jessica suddenly put the phone down, flipping it over so she wouldn’t look at the screen. She couldn't call Trish, not after being such an asshole to her.

And yet, Trish could get her in, easily. She's donated to the Wayne Foundation before. Hell, she probably already had an invite. Jessica could just be her plus one…

Her eyes wandered over to the corner, catching the half empty bottle of Jim Beam on her desk, the bottle stained with her fingerprints.

Trish would bring up the drinking. The PTSD. She'd want Jessica to go back to therapy…

No.

Jessica sighed tiredly, rolling up to the ceiling. They stayed there, miserably watching the white chipped paint as her brain sluggishly gave out ideas.

There was Hogarth… 

… who was probably going with Wendy. Plus, Jessica already owed her a favor. Hogarth wasn’t known for being generous.

Dorothy? 

Nope. Jessica would rather choke on a spoon and die.

Robin.

Jessica snorted. Yeah, right…

Damn it! There had to be someone, just not Trish…

Well, not the real Trish anyway…

Jessica jolted up, zapped with an idea. She went to her computer and scrolled to the bottom of the website. The contact number.

She dialed it.

"Wayne Foundation’s home office! This is Chloe speaking. How can I help you?”

“Hi Chloe!” Jessica chirped, matching the woman’s pep. “This is Jen, Trish Walker’s assistant. I just wanted to confirm the time for the Gala? Trish can’t find her invite.”

“Oh! Trish Walker. Let me see…”

Jessica waited, anxiously swinging around in her chair.

"Uh, I have it listed here that Miss Walker declined this year?”

“Really? Why?” Her voice dropped, breaking out of character.

“I-I’m not sure. Is that incorrect?"

“Yea-Yes!” Jessica caught herself, going back to her fake voice. “It has to be. I don’t have anything on Trish’s schedule.”

“Oh! Well, that’s great to hear! We would be delighted to see Miss Walker again.”

“Definitely! And is it possible to get another invite? Like I said, Trish lost hers and without the information, I can’t put it in her schedule.”

“Oh, that’s no problem! It’s next Friday, 5pm. Miss Walker can just give her name at the door. Security will know who she is.”

“But that won’t work,” Jessica argued.

“I’m sorry? Why not?”

“Uh, be-because…” Jessica fumbled. 

Because Trish won’t actually be there.

“Because” her voice dropped to a whisper, “between you and me, Chloe, the press has been hounding Trish lately. It’s insane! Poor Trish can’t even walk out of her apartment without a camera being shoved in her face. She’s become paranoid about it, and she doesn’t want her name on anything . We’ve actually been using her sister’s name lately. Is that okay?”

“Oh. Well, I can assure you that all branches of Wayne Enterprises have a strict privacy policy. By no means do we release anyone’s information to the public.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do. It’s more to ease her mind, if anything,” Jessica continued to lie. “And Trish’s sister will be her plus one. So it’s not like she won’t be there…”

“Oh, well… We normally just list the invited party...”

“And I completely understand, but it’ll mean so much to Trish. Like really, Chloe.” Jessica paused. Time for the bait. 

“You know, Trish was just telling me the other day that she was willing to give up Coachella for the Wayne Gala.”

Silence.

“As in, she would offer up Coachella…”

Nothing.

“Most likely to the person that helped her .”

And then…

“Do I get first class?”

Jessica smirked. “Of course, Chloe. Only the best from Patsy.”

*****

Oh, Jesus Christ. Jessica knew Wayne Manor was gonna be big. But come on .

It was a fucking castle on a big-ass hill. Giant walls made of impenetrable brick, and long towers that curved out at the corners, millions of tiny windows carved in to spill the warm light within.

It made Jessica feel like an ant, trying to sneak into a house filled with glue traps and zappers just to find a crumb. And what better way to start the night by being stuck at the bottom of the hill, her cab driver too shitty to go past the gate.

“Seriously?!” she barked at him.

“Ya’ want me to go up the hill?! It’s gonna cost extra!” he yelled back.

Jessica groaned with frustration. As if this wasn’t stressful enough.

“Forget it!” she snapped, swinging the door open and stepping out. Jessica slammed the door behind her, and it closed with a loud chink , the impact causing the window to crack.

“Hey!” The cab driver poked his head out. “You’re gonna pay for that!”

“As if that hunk of junk is worth anything,” Jessica waved him off.

“Fuck you!” the cab driver shouted. The tires screeched as he pumped on the gas.

Jessica flipped him the bird, watching him go until the lights disappeared and the grating sound of the car engine echoed into the night. Then she turned around, facing her next challenge. 

A literal uphill battle.

Jessica huffed, looking down at herself. She bought the dress this morning, when she realized she needed something to wear. It had a black billowy skirt that cut off at her calves, and thick straps that covered her shoulders, giving her a conservative amount of coverage as it met a sweetheart neckline.

She felt like a 1950's housewife. But hey, it was a dress. It’ll work, right?

Jessica grabbed the clutch purse tucked under her arm, weighing it in her palm for a moment. It was heavy with the cash from both the Ryback job and Jason’s (she couldn’t exactly show up to a rich-fest empty handed). But the thing that worried her was the lump on the clutch’s side, outlining the shape of the beeper. 

He can see where you are right now.

Jason’s words, echoing in her ear. Jessica was doubtful that he actually knew the Batman . It had to be a bluff, a way to just pull her leg. Maybe he was scared of Batman getting involved in… whatever it was with Bruce Wayne.

And yet, the idea that Batman could see where she was right now, it gave her this creepy feeling. As if someone was playing with the back of her neck, but every time she turned around no one was there.

She shook it off. The Dark Knight had better things to do than stress over Jessica Jones. That's why he had Robin do it instead.

Jessica let her arm drop, the clutch bumping her hip as she did so, and she began walking up the hill. It wasn’t long before she was annoyed, her impatience growing with every step.

“Fucking cheap asshole… too lazy to drive up a fucking hill…” she mumbled, blindly stepping in front of other cars as they waited for their drop off. They all honked at her, but she didn’t care.

When she finally made it, she had to wait even more as people were already lined up to be let in.

She sighed and placed herself in line, eyeing the snooty greeter with the clipboard.

“Jones,” she bit out when she approached. “Jessica Jones.”

Jessica watched as they gave her a once over, no doubt clocking the cheap dress. Jessica did her best to act snooty in return. “Can we hurry this up? I have people waiting for me…”

The greeter glanced at their clipboard. “Isn’t uh, someone supposed to be with you, Miss Jones?”

Shit. Chloe must’ve given them a head's up.

“Back entrance,” Jessica quickly bluffed. “Less chance of cameras. Security should be showing her in right now.”

Jessica stared back as they thought about it, hoping that her lie would work.

Silently, they stepped aside and let her in. 

She took a few steps past the entrance and began to look around. Not at the Manor, like everyone else was, but at the faces. The people Bruce Wayne thought of as important . She was unsurprised that she didn’t recognize anyone. Just a bunch of suits and fancy dresses. Maybe that guy was familiar? Wait, wasn’t he the Mayor or something?

Some of them noticed her, giving her curious once-overs. Jessica could just imagine their thought process. Lacking in fashion…she must be business… in tech, maybe?  

"Champagne?”

Jessica jumped slightly, startled by the shadow suddenly next to her. She automatically clenched her fist, ready to defend, but then she saw the tray of champagne flutes. Jessica looked up to glare at the butler holding it.

“Jesus!” Jessica snapped, snatching a glass. "You can't sneak up on people like that. Someone might have a heart condition.”

“Apologies, ma’am. I’ll be sure to wear a bell next time,” the butler sassed back before walking away.

Jessica scoffed before gulping down her drink, disappointed by the harmless fizz tingling down her throat. There was a bar somewhere, right? There had to be more than this…

“Finally, a familiar face.” 

Jessica turned her head, finding Wayne, smiling in recognition as he spotted her.

Aw, fuck. Jessica was planning to avoid him. It’ll be hard investigating now that Wayne knew she was here. But it was far too late. Wayne was already walking right up to her. Hair perfectly gelled back, the twinkle in his smile perfectly matching the shine on his cufflinks. Oddly enough, his suit was a little ruffled, but Wayne somehow made it seem natural, appropriate. He was Bruce Wayne , for fuck’s sake! Did it really matter what he wore?

“Hmm, let me guess,” he rested his chin in his hand, pretending to think. “You’re here because you work for Wayne Enterprises.”

Jessica shook her head.  “No, just for the free food. I heard the boss over there could be a real ass.”

Wayne let out a surprised laugh, seemingly impressed by the gall of her joke

Jessica smirked. 

She was caught. Might as well play along.

“Nice to see you again.” Wayne folded his arms. “Jessica, right?”

“Yeah, we met through Hogarth,” she added.

“Right, right.” Wayne furrowed his eyes curiously. “Did… did Jeri invite you?”

“Uh, yeah!” Jessica answered, not able to come up with any other explanation. “Yeah, Hogarth invited me.”

“Oh, that’s odd. We usually only allow a plus one to these things…” Wayne shrugged it off. “Oh well! The more the merrier, I suppose.”

Relief sagged through her shoulders. Thank Wayne for being an oblivious dumbass.

“Well, please enjoy yourself tonight. It’s for a very good cause!”

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” Jessica said, forcing herself into a fake smile, inwardly cringing at the awkward stretch she felt on her face.

Wayne winked before moving to turn around. 

“Oh, wait!” He stopped, held his finger up, like he just remembered something. “I just saw Jeri around here somewhere. Where…” He whirled his head around the room. “Ah, there she is. Jeri!”

And sure enough, there was Hogarth, cheerfully talking to Pam in the corner of the room. She popped her head up when she heard her name, eyes catching onto Wayne for a split second before they caught onto Jessica’s. Her face fell.

Oh shit.

“Jeri!” Wayne called again, gesturing her over. 

Hogarth walked over, outwardly looking calm and professional, but Jessica could spot the death radiating in her stare.

“Great of you to invite so many of your employees,” Wayne told her. He leaned over to Hogarth, jesting in her ear, “And here I thought you kept your cards close.”

Hogarth's eyes narrowed, piercing Jessica on the spot.

Wayne stood straight, patting Hogarth on the back as he remained oblivious. “Well, I have to make the rounds. Make sure to try the hors d'oeuvres!” 

He vanished into the crowd, replacing his presence with a silence that once again left Jessica wishing there was more booze.

Finally, Hogarth broke the ice.

“Just what do you think you’re doing here?” she hissed. 

“Having a ball,” Jessica replied sarcastically, gesturing around her.

Hogarth closed her eyes, her face pinched with pain, as if she just got a migraine. “Please tell me you are not party crashing.”

Jessica acted offended. “Excuse me? I got in here fair and square, thank you very much.”

“Bullshit!” Hogarth spat. “How did you do it?”

“A good PI never reveals her secrets."

“Jessica.” Hogarth snapped, eyeing her attire. "People are going to know that you do not belong here. And if they see you with me-"

“You're worried about being seen with me when your secretary is practically shoving her boobs in your face?" Jessica called her out.

“Pam is a friend ," Hogarth seethed. "And it is none of your business-”

“You're right, it isn't.” Jessica smirked knowingly. “But it sure is Wendy's.”

Hogarth’s eyes went wide. “I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re playing, Jessica. But if this is how you treat me after I sped up that payment for you-”

“Oh, please.” Jessica rolled her eyes. “You made a few calls.”

“You owe me a favor, dammit.”

Jessica sighed. A fight will get her nowhere. “I know. Relax, okay. I’m not here for you. By all means, pretend I don’t exist.”

“I wish I could, but you have the aura of a time bomb.”

Jessica snorted. She couldn’t deny that. “Look, you want me gone? Fine. Help me find who I’m looking for and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

Hogarth crossed her arms. “And just who exactly are you looking for?”

Jessica felt the clutch in her hand grow heavy. “Lucius Fox. He’s the CEO of Wayne Enterprises.” 

“I know who he is,” Hogarth snapped. “What the hell do you want with Lucius?”

“It’s for business.”

“And exactly what ‘business’ do you have with him?” Hogarth continued to question.

“Having wi-fi trouble. Hoping he’ll help,” Jessica joked. When Hogarth didn’t budge, Jessica rolled her eyes again. She didn’t have the time for this. “Look, do you want me gone or not?”

Hogarth pursed her lips, and Jessica could tell she wanted to argue. But the worry that Jessica would cause a scene must’ve outweighed her curiosity.

“I saw him go into the Ballroom,” she finally relented, nodding towards the large mahogany doors to the right. “Follow me. I’ll introduce you-”

“No need. I know what he looks like,” Jessica shut her down. The last thing she needed was Hogarth eavesdropping. “Thanks.”

“I better not see you for the rest of the night,” Hogarth warned before walking away, heading back to Pam.

“Aye aye, Captain,” Jessica mocked, heading to the Ballroom.

Soft jazz music filled the air, greeting everyone that walked in. All except for Jessica, who blissfully ignored it, too busy scanning the room.

There were a lot more people in here, and she couldn’t spot Fox anywhere. Just more mindless suits and gowns, laughing and smiling as the waiting staff circled around them, completely invisible as they switched out empty champagne flutes for new ones.

Speaking of which, a waiter walked past her on the right, and Jessica quickly switched out her drink before they got too far.

As she downed her second glass, she spotted him. Lucius Fox, laughing off to the side. His cheerful expression was almost an exact copy of the picture Jessica saw him in, some Wayne Enterprises announcement from long ago. A few things were different, obviously. More wrinkles.

As he continued to talk to, whoever , Jessica looked down at the drink in his hand. Empty.

And when Jessica’s gaze went past his shoulder, she saw it; a bar in the back of the room. The circumstances couldn’t have been more perfect.

Jessica easily polished off the rest of her champagne before marching over to the bar. She happily ordered a whiskey (neat) and waited. 

And just when Jessica polished off her drink…

"Another scotch, please." Fox came up on her right.

"Waitaminute, are you… Lucius Fox?" Jessica asked, pretending to be tipsy. A trick that was often useful when talking to subjects at a bar. After all, people were willing to talk more if they thought you wouldn’t remember..

Fox noted her drunken behavior, glancing down at her empty glass before politely saying, "Indeed, I am. But I'm afraid I'm off the clock."

"Oh no, is’ nothing like that.” She let out an uncharacteristic giggle, almost barfing up her booze in the process. “I'vejust read the articles. About how you run your company.”

"Well, it's not exactly my company, now is it?" Fox gently reminded her. “Otherwise, it would be called Fox Enterprises.”

Wow. What a jokester.

"Funnyyy,” Jessica slurred. “I’ve heard you’rea real tech wiz, tho. One of the best.”

“Well, that’s not for me to say, now is it?”

And humble too.

"Aw, come on! You gotta be!” Jessica encouraged,  “WayneTech has some of the best technology in the country . You have to know you’re way around a smartphone." 

Fox chuckled. “Thank you for the compliment, Miss?”

“Jones.”

“Miss Jones, but I’m afraid I’m not talking to press tonight.”

“Oh, I’m not press!” 

"Oh?"

“Nooo! I’m just a plus one.”

“So where’s your date?”

“Bathroom. They ate the shrimp and ran .” Jessica leaned in, whispering loudly, “I wouldn’t try it if I were you.” She began to fish through her clutch. “Here! Lemme buy you a drink…”

Fox waved his hand urgently. “Oh, no no no. There’s no need-”

“Is’ finnne,” Jessica continued loudly, letting the beeper fall out of the bag. It landed on the bartop, completely exposed. 

Fox immediately snatched it up, observed it in his palm for a moment. 

“Where did you get this?” his voice dropped with curiosity.

“Do you really wanna know?” asked Jessica, dropping her voice as well, letting go of the act.

Fox looked at her suspiciously. “I thought you said you weren’t press.”

“And I’m not.” Jessica took out her business card and handed it to him.

Fox glanced at it. Then he looked back up at her, an eyebrow raised curiously. "You know, we already have a pretty good detective around here."

"Some people want discretion," Jessica shrugged.

"Oh, I'm sure they do." Fox smiled, handing the card back to her.

"So, do you know your way around a smartphone or not?” She asked carefully.

"Well, being in my line of work, I should be,” Fox went back to the beeper. “However, I’m afraid this smartphone , as you put it, isn’t anything I’ve seen before.”

"Uh, interesting.” Jessica didn’t buy it. “You've been the CEO for, how long now?"

"About," Fox paused, pretending to do the math, "twelve years now, I believe. Wow. Time sure does fly."

"I'm sure it does…" Jessica replied dryly. "Funny enough, Batman's first appearance was around then too."

That was a bluff. She actually didn’t know when Batman started. But Fox wasn’t fooled, just smiled at her amusingly. "Miss Jones, I know what you’re implying, and you are not the first to do so."

"And what am I implying?" 

"Wayne Enterprises is in no way associated with the vigilante Batman, nor has it ever been." Fox sighed, as if he’s said it a thousand times. He probably has. "It's just a rumor. An old one, at that. You’re not even the first to show me his tech."

Jessica looked at him curiously. “And you’ve never wondered about it? About him? ”

“Oh, every damn day,” he told her. “But questions like that are often the ones that will never have an answer. So why let them ruin your life?” Fox pondered for a moment, then added, “However, one thing I can say is that, whoever made this knows exactly what they’re doing. And this smartphone , well, it’s one of a kind.”

He gently grabbed Jessica’s hand, exposing her palm before covering it with a handshake, passing the beeper back to her. “... I would recommend not wasting it.”

And then before she could get another word in, Fox walked away, leaving his unfinished scotch with her.

Well, finders keepers.

She downed the rest of it.

"Jess?"

And froze.

Slowly, Jessica turned around, her mouth still full with scotch. A droplet spilled out of her mouth, burning her lips as she held the rest in. Once Jessica saw you it was, she swallowed then croaked out, 

"Trish.”

Trish stood there, looking as perfect as ever. Perfect dress, perfect hair, perfect makeup- the product of years walking down the red carpet. But Trish did not look happy at all. Crossed arms, plucked eyebrows furrowed down, mouth falling into a frown. She looked pissed. She looked worried.

Goddammit.

"What are you doing here?" Jessica bit out.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" Tish raised an eyebrow, moving to put her hands on her hips. "I got a call asking about free tickets to Coachella. Tickets that my sister promised them."

When Jessica didn’t say anything, Trish scoffed. "The Patsy Card. Really, Jess?"

Jessica turned back towards the bar, shrugged. "I had to get in."

"Why?"

Jessica looked over her shoulder. " Why? It's none of your business why." She waved to the bartender for another drink.

"Is this for your work?" Trish continued to ask, stepping closer. "You're working as a PI now, right?"

"You keeping tabs on me?" Jessica snapped.

"Making sure you're alive." Trish snuck up to her left. "God knows, you won't tell me."

"I needed space," Jessica defended.

"And I understand that," said Trish. "But that doesn't give you the right to just name-drop me when you’ve been ignoring my calls!"

Goddammit. Of course, shit had to hit the fan now .

"Are you still getting nightmares? Flashbacks?" Trish went on. “I’m telling you, you need to go back to that therapist-”

"For the love of- Trish, back off!"

"Jess, your PTSD is not going to just go away-"

"This is not about my goddamn PTSD-"

"I’ll pay for it-" 

“Why? To pay two hundred dollars to some quack-”

“Highly recommended-”

“- just to get some street names,” Jessicacontined to talk over her. “Birch Street. Higgins Drive. Freakin’ Cobalt Lane-”

“They help, don’t they?!” Trish finally snapped.

Jessica sighed. It was the same old argument, and she was just tired of it. She looked down at her new drink, not knowing if it was whiskey or scotch at this point. It could be gasoline for all she cared. As long as it did the job and got her out of this mess.

“I’m fine, Trish,” Jessica said quietly. “Okay? You see me. I’m alive.”

"Yeah." Trish eyed the drink as well. "You seem to have everything under control…"

That pissed Jessica off. She was used to being called a mess, but somehow having Trish say it, given her own past… It was hypocritical. And Trish was the last person who should judge her, considering how she knew, everything.

"Whatever," Jessica snarled, ending it there. She refused to look back at Trish, just listened to her footsteps as she walked away.

Good.

But despite herself, Jessica found herself looking behind her, into the crowd. Then the lights began to dim and people started to sit down at their tables.

“Hello, everyone! Thank you all for coming,” Bruce Wayne’s voice boomed into the air, magnified by a microphone. 

Oh, great. Just what she needed. A speech.

The whole room grew black as a single spotlight appeared, fixing on Bruce Wayne as he stepped onto the stage and everyone cheered. 

Jessica downed the rest of her drink.

Wayne stood behind a podium, facing the crowd as he began. “When my father first started the Wayne Foundation, it was based on a promise. A promise to help Gotham become the city it could be…”

Jessica tuned him out, instead choosing to ponder over her own sorrows.

Chloe told Trish that her sister called, but how did she know? Jessica used a fake name…

Wayne continued his silent monologue, the spotlight catching the shine of his golden watch as he gestured to the audience.

It’s possible that Wayne Enterprises caught her bluff, but then, why let her in?

Jessica felt her mouth curl downward as Wayne’s eyes traveled across the room, catching onto Jessica’s for a split second before moving away.

But then, what kind of businessman greets her at the door? Not a colleague or board member, but her. A fucking PI! Why even talk to her at all? And then there was Hogarth, calling her over.

And here I thought you kept your cards close…

Jessica could still see it in the corner of his eye, that smug-ass glint. Mouth curled up as if Wayne was amused by something. As if he won something.

Applause broke out, bringing Jessica back to reality. 

The speech was over.

Jessica shook her head, stopping the clogs in her mind from whirling too fast. No, she was being paranoid. She’s met Bruce Wayne before. The guy’s completely out of touch with the world.

Unless that was all just an act…

Fuck!

Jessica went to stand up. Her legs wobbled, and she had to catch herself on the bar.

“Woah! You okay?” Someone stepped in front of her, and the first thing Jessica caught onto was a hand, hovering over her elbow in case she needed it. From there, she scrolled up, meeting the black suit attached to it, then up to the face it belonged to.

Shit. Jessica knew him. It was one of the sons. She remembered the picture she saw. A police uniform…

“Yeah, I’m fine. Legs just fell asleep, but thanks anyway,” Jessica quickly waved him off. If he was a cop, and she was crashing his dad’s party, it was best to keep her distance.

But the guy certainly knew how to carry himself- posture straight yet relaxed. Confident, but not commanding. He had long black hair and piercing blue eyes. Just like his dad. Just like Jason.

Now, that was weird.

“And, you are?” Jessica added, deciding last second to keep the conversation going.

“Ah, sorry. I’m Dick.” He held up a hand for her to shake.

Oh, I’m sure you are , Fox’s words rang in her head.

“Jess,” she said, forcing herself to shake his hand. His hold was firm. Jessica was half tempted to use her strength, just a little bit.

“Just Jess? No full name?” Dick teased.

Jessica shrugged playfully, letting go of his hand. “Yeah, well. Stranger danger and all of that. I need to think about my safety.”

“Of course,” Dick nodded, a light smirk growing on his face. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I am a cop. See?” He pulled out his badge, showed it to her. “I promise that your safety is my first priority.”

Jessica made a show of inspecting it. “Hm, seems fake to me…”

Dick snorted. “No, yeah. You caught me.” He put his badge away, smirk broadening into a smile. “Got it from a cereal box.”

“So… you’re Bruce Wayne’s son?”

“Ah, so you do know me,” Dick chided, wagging a finger at her. “It looks like I’m the one that needs to follow stranger danger,” his voice dipped low, “You know, for my safety .”

Jessica snorted. Not subtle, are we? “Well, with you being a cop and all, I think you’ll be okay.”

“Really? I don’t know,” Dick sighed, pretending to be hesitant. “You seem like trouble to me.”

“Well, depends on who you ask,” Jessica replied honestly.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yup, but I think I can make an exception…” Jessica felt her voice grow deep and sultry, the aftertaste of champagne/whiskey/scotch heavy on her tongue as she formed the words. “On one condition…”

“Oh, yeah?” Dick’s voice grew quiet, matching hers. “And what’s that?”

Jessica leaned in, then pulled up her glass, a barrier between them. “You show me where your dad keeps the rest of his booze.”

****

Usually, Jessica didn’t resort to flirting, especially when it came to work. It could get messy, complicated, and no matter what people might say, Jessica didn’t like toying with people.

But Dick Grayson was more than happy to take her somewhere a bit more, private. And with him being Jason Todd’s brother, well, he had to know something .

Jessica nodded along as Dick gave her a tour, giving her tidbits of history about the Manor. Occasionally, Jessica would chime in, poking for info.

"It must've been weird, growing up in a place like this," she said, allowing herself to look around the Manor now that it was just the two of them.

Dick snorted. "Not as weird as growing up in a circus. But it was different, sure."

She saw now that the inside of the Manor matched outside. Gothic, a bit medieval, keeping true to the castle image. She figured it would've been easy for it to come off as creepy, with the giant paintings that hung on the walls. Some of them Jessica recognized, particularly one of Thomas and Martha Wayne. That one’s been in the news a lot. And whoever painted it did a really good job. Almost, too good. It was like they were ready to pop out of the frame.

Imagine how creepy that would be for a kid. Getting a glass of water at night must’ve been fun.

“Lonely?” she guessed.

Dick shrugged. “Not really. Bruce always kept me busy.”

Jessica raised an eyebrow. “A lot of extracurriculars?”

“Oh, yeah.” Dick nodded. “Really intense ones too. But Alfred always knew when to call it quits for the night.”

“Alfred?”

“Oh, our butler.” Dick smiled. “He’s great. Cares more about the place than Bruce does.”

“Hm,” was all Jessica said. 

She noticed how spotless the Manor was too. How each antique was placed in such a way, just enough to add to the space but not distract from it. A perfectly polished clock on a fireplace, a delicate vase in a corner. They all blended in flawlessly, yet each item had its own individual beauty that seemed to shine when looked upon.

It was like a museum. Jessica guessed that was all the butler’s doing

“Here we are.” Dick turned a corner and flipped a lightswitch, revealing small wooden steps that went down into darkness.

Jessica’s seen horror films like this.

“The wine cellar,” Dick told her. “Bruce keeps a lot of good stuff here.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Jessica continued to stare down into the dark. “But I’m more of a whiskey girl.”

Dick smiled, offering his hand. “You’ll love it. I promise.”

You’ll love it.

Jessica’s eye twitched before she could stop herself.

Dick immediately stepped back. “But, hey. We don’t have to-”

“It’s fine,” Jessica cut him off. She needed him to talk. There wasn’t any time for fear. “Just… promise me there are no hockey players with chainsaws down there.”

“Hockey players with chainsaws…” Dick mulled it over, then shrugged his shoulders. “Nope! Can’t say that I’ve seen any. Now, hockey players with knives…”

“Har, har.” Jessia rolled her eyes.

Dick smiled, then went over the right, flipping another lightswitch. The darkness disappeared, replaced by a small passageway, the walls made out of the same wood as the stairs.  “Better?”

“Loads,” Jessica sighed, wondering why he didn’t just do that in the first place. She nodded towards the stairs. “Alright, flyboy. Lead the way.”

Dick gave her a slight bow. “As the lady commands.”

Jessica scoffed as he went ahead.

They took a few steps down before she started to ask more questions. “So, you sure your dad won’t mind us being down here?” 

“Oh no . Of course he won’t,” Dick replied sarcastically. “That being said, let’s keep this our little secret.” He looked over his shoulder and winked at her. 

Jessica ignored it. “So, you snuck down here a lot?”

“Here? No. But I would sneak into the garage.”

“The garage?” Jessica looked at him curiously. “Why? What’s in the garage?”

“Cars.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jessica felt her shoulders slump. Duh.

Dick chuckled. “Bruce loves his rides. He’s always asking Lucius for some type of upgrade. New engine, new wheels. You could imagine how tempting that would be for a teenage boy.”

“Can’t say that I do.” Jessica shrugged.

They went down a few more steps until they reached the bottom, completely dark once again before Dick turned on another light. Rows and rows of wine racks placed across the cellar, all of them as high as the ceiling. Tall refrigerators were lined up in the back, glass doors revealing the stocks of the chilled wine,  along seltzers and beer. On the side walls were shelves of glassware; wine glasses, pints, tumblrs- anything needed for whatever kind of drink.

Which meant… yes. In the corners of the room there were shelves, each organized by a different type of liquor; gin, vodka, tequila. The biggest was the whiskey, further separated by bourbon, rye, scotch...

Jessica felt her mouth water, itching to get her hands on it.

“Is this, everything ?” she asked, actually impressed with the layout

“Well, minus the stuff for the Gala, and the sherry Alfred keeps in the kitchen.” Dick marched over to one of the shelves. “So, a whiskey girl… Bourbon okay?”

“To start.”

Dick chortled, then started to scan the shelves. A moment passed by, then, “Ah ha!”

He grabbed one from a higher shelf, and Jessica walked over to see the label. “Really? Old Rip Van Winkle?”

“The one and only.” Dick smiled, twisted off the cap.

In about an hour, most the bottle was gone. And so was Dick. His face was all red, and that sly smirk he liked to pull seemed permanently stuck on his face. It was the exact state Jessica wanted him to be in. A drunk pretty boy eager to impress some chick? Time to blab away.

Instead, he stood up and tried to do a backflip.

“Not in front of booze!” Jessica objected, feeling very light from her spot on the floor. She wasn’t entirely sober either. And a small part of her is starting to realize, she wasn’t before they went down here. But, thanks to practice and her powers, Jessica was still better off than Dick.

“Is’ fine. I do’it all th’ time,” Dick tried to assure her. The key word is tried.

Jessica groaned. “It’s too late for tricks.”

“Is’ never too late fo’ tricks.” Dick stood up straight, prepping himself for the flip.

Shit. They were steering off course.

“Is this just what you do when you’re bored?” Jessica asked, trying to get him to talk.

“An’ other things.” Dick said before doing the backflip. He stumbled the landing a bit, but hey, it was more than Jessica could do.

“Impressive,” she told him.

“Thank you,” Dick bowed in an overexaggerated fashion, and Jessica wondered if that was the same bow he did when he was a kid, back at the circus.

“You said you did other things around here. Like what?”

Dick shrugged. “I’ don’ know. Lots. There’s lots to do ‘round here. Didchu see the library? There’s like, tons of books. Imp’ssible to get through all of ‘em. Jason said he did it tho.”

Jessica froze, the warmth from the bourbon draining from her face. “Really?”

“Yeah, the little dude loved to read.” Dick sat on the floor next to her. “He would be in the library for hours . Alfred had to bring dinner to him first couple o’ve weeks. Otherwize, he wouldn’.” Dick hiccupped. “Think he got use' to it. Not eating. Growin’ up in East End an’ all.”

Finally.

“Where’s he now?”

“Dead. Has been for… five years now.”

Dick looked heartbroken when he said it, tears forming in his eyes. And Jessica felt her throat tighten with sympathy. She swallowed before saying, “I’m sorry.” 

Dick shook his head. “Is’ fine.”

They sat there, solemn for a moment. And it was then that Jessica decided Dick was telling the truth. He really thought his brother was dead. And knowing what Jessica knew, that his brother was actually alive but she couldn’t tell him, prompted her to hesitate, then say, “I lost a brother too.”

Dick whipped his head around to look at her, face full of surprise before falling into guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said back.

Jessica just shrugged. This wasn’t about her. She wasn’t gonna get into it.

“Well, I think… we need… more,” Dick grunted, hauling himself up.

“Whatever you say, champ.” Jessica stood up to follow, as Dick drunkenly tried to read the label on a bottle. “So, how did… how did it happen?”

Dick continued to read the label. “How did what happen?”

“Jason.”

Dick stopped, body frozen as he continued his gaze at the bottle. “It was a skiing accident.”

Jessica nodded. “So he liked to ski?”

“Uh, yeah.” Dick suddenly snapped up and scratched his head, as if unsure. He put the bottle back. “Hey, on second thought… I think we’ve had enough. Why don’t we head back?”

Well, fuck. Jessica needed to know more. But she also couldn’t pressure him to stay, not when he didn’t want to.

“Yeah. I’m beat anyway. Let’s go.”

They started to make their way back to the ballroom. Be it, way more loose than before. 

And as they passed by the paintings again, with those eyes staring into her, Jessica couldn’t help but feel how ancient they looked. As if the Waynes have been around forever. And then it occurred to Jessica, it’s because they have. 

No wonder this place felt like a museum. 

And with a long bloodline like that, there had to be secrets. And Jessica wasn’t going to find them in the ballroom…

“Is there a bathroom around here?” 

“Uh, yeah. Last door on the left.” Dick pointed her down a hall. Jessica followed, trying to ignore the creeping feeling of eyes watching her. 

When she opened the bathroom door, bright light pierced her eyes. Jessica let the door shut behind her, as she blindly ran to the sink, stumbling a bit along the way. She gave herself some time to think by washing her hands. Wayne had to have an office somewhere. She just had to find it. But how to shake off Prince Charming…

Jessica looked over to the side, spotting the toilet. And there was the toilet paper roll. A fresh one, never been used.

Bingo.

****

“Uhhh, Dick?!” Jessica cried from the bathroom.

“Yeah?”

“I think there’s something wrong with your toilet.” Jessica opened the door, revealing the overflow of toilet water behind her running down onto the floor.

“Oh, shit!” Dick panicked. “Uh, it’s cool! It happens! I’ll uh, i’ll be right back!”

He ran away, zigzagging a bit as he did so. Hopefully, it’ll take a while for him to find maintenance, but Jessica wasn’t going to waste time. As soon as he was out of sight, she began to open doors. The first hallway had nothing but closets and bedrooms, and when she ran to the second hallway, repeating the process and finding the same thing, she began to panic.

The eyes on the walls watching her…

Ugh , think! If she was a billionaire, where would she keep her office? 

Somewhere quiet. Isolated. Easy access to whatever she needs; paper, pens, books… 

She would have it near the library.

Jessica whipped her head around, finding two large mahogany doors at the end of the hall. Doors like that had to lead to a big room.

Jessica walked over to them, but her body too slow, her legs too wobbly, her head too light. Was she drunk? Whatever, it didn’t matter. Not as long as she found what she was looking for. 

Jessica swung the doors open, wind hitting her face as her eyes took in the sight of the room.

It was the library.

Her vision swam as it flew by the endless rows of books. Jessica ignored the blurry squares of red, green, and blue, too focused on trying to find a side door.

There. On the right.

Jessica grabbed the knob (when did she get there?) and turned it. It didn’t budge.

“God… dammit!” Jessica seethed.

She tapped into her strength and twisted it again, the sound of the lock breaking as the door opened.

An office.

Jessica started pulling drawers, fumbling around as she found files and files and files. Adoption papers had to be here somewhere-

“This is definitely not the bathroom.”

Jessica bolted straight up, causing the room to spin.

A black shape spun in front of her like a washing machine. Jessica shut her eyes, willed her brain to stop . When she opened them, everything was still.

And Bruce Wayne stood in the doorway, hands behind his back, his face looking grim, but also more than that. It was terrifying.

Deadly.

“You know,” Wayne took a step forward, “usually when someone is trying to get a person drunk, they refrain from drinking as well.” He took another step, then stopped, face like stone as he somehow towered over her, eyes piercing into her own like, well, like laservision. “Difficult to interrogate someone when you are intoxicated…”

Jessica gulped, the lump in her throat falling down into the pit of her stomach, the rest of her body staying grounded. “What are you talking about?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow skeptically. “You mean you weren’t trying to pry information from Dick?”

Jessica shrugged. “Nope.”

“Huh, really…” Wayne took another step forward, that laservision burning right into her brain, reading every dirty little secret Jessica kept in there, and it was like they all flashed right in front of her. Liar. Asshole. Alcoholic.

Murderer.

And it was so compelling to buckle, to confess to everything, but Jessica willed herself not to. Whatever kind of scumbag Bruce Wayne was, whatever kind of skeletons he kept in his closet, Jessica could handle it. 

She’s faced monsters worse than him.

So, Jessica remained tall and shrugged. “I got lost.”

“You got lost in my office?”

Jessica looked away casually. “Yeah, you should probably have a directory or something. Pretty big place. Easy to get lost…”

Wayne looked at her with slight disbelief. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

“Well, you haven’t proven otherwise so…”

Both eyebrows shot up now. Wayne looked shocked by the gall, the nerve of the insult. And yet, his body language remained steady, calm. He seemed to absorb the jab, and instead asked curiously, “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

“Why?” Jessica bit out. “Trying to interrogate me?”

“You’re drunk,” he put it plainly.

“No, I’m not,” Jessica snapped.

A sharp breath went in through his nose, like Wayne was preparing for an argument, but then he released it.

“You’re right. ” He stepped to the side, and held up his arm, gesturing towards the exit. “By all means, lead the way…”

Jessica scoffed, shot him a dirty look before moving to leave. She took a step, and stumbled. Her arms flailed in the air before her feet stuck to the ground, catching herself from falling. 

But oh, how she could feel the smug radiating off of Wayne. That asshole.

Jessica stood up straight and carried on, feeling that smugines follow her along the way.

Like the eyes in the paintings…

Somehow through their walk, Wayne ended up leading the way. He could be leading Jessica to a dungeon for all she knew, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She wouldn’t remember the way back anyway, and it’s not like Wayne was actually going to do something…

Right? 

The air was tense, and Jessica could feel the space between her shoulder blades itch from it. The small hairs on her arms stood up, waiting for the pin to drop. But the terrifying persona Wayne showed earlier must’ve calmed down, cause after a while he spoke.

“So, did you find what you were looking for?”

A question.

Jessica didn’t answer right away, not sure whether she should be honest or not. Finally, she decided it couldn’t hurt. “No.”

Wayne nodded, accepting her answer before going in with another question. “So, what are you looking for?”

Jessica shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I will when I see it.”

“Hm. So who hired you?”

Jessica stopped, shock pouring over her like ice water. She stood there for a moment, not sure of what to say, what to do. When she realized she had nothing, Jessica could only furrow her brows and look at him confusingly. “What?”

Wayne stared back at her, not moving an inch. “I’m assuming you’re snooping around because someone hired you.”

Jessica’s body went back into slow motion as she tiredly shook her head, her brain starting to feel like mush.

“No,” was all she said.

And maybe he could see how tired Jessica was and thought in her current state, she couldn’t possibly have the energy to keep the ruse up now. He let it go and kept walking.

Thank god.

The front door came into view. The butler, Alfred, stood next to it.

Wayne held up her clutch for her. “Have a good night, Jessica.”

When did she drop it?

Deciding to forget it, Jessica grabbed the clutch from him and waved with it, body slightly swaying as she made her exit.

“I took the liberty of calling a taxi for you, Miss Jones,” Alfred said as he held the door for her. “However, I’m afraid they’re not willing to drive up the hill.”

Jessica sighed, walking out the door. “Figures.”

It gently closed behind her with a soft click , somehow with the same impact as a slap in the face.

****

What was that?

It was the question that ran through her mind over and over again. On the cab ride home, on the elevator ride, when she turned the key, and when she closed the door.

What was that? 

Because it was definitely something.

And Jessica thought about it as the sky slowly grew lighter, fully drunk but letting the question possess her mind. She normally didn’t do this. The whole point of being drunk was to not think about things.

She emptied her purse, pouring her unspent money on her desk. The beeper fell out with a small clack. Jessica gently picked it up, letting it shine in the dark as Fox’s words replayed in her brain, as clear as when he first said them.

I would recommend not wasting it…

Cool. Noted.

Jessica carelessly tossed the beeper in a drawer, only to pause when she saw the burner phone next to it.

One was sleek and expensive, the other was old and damaged. Two different cases, but both equally mysterious. Batman was huge , obviously. Nobody knew who he was, but he was a legend. A ghost story.

My advice, don’t trust him…

And Jason’s afraid of him.

Jessica picked up the burner phone curiously.

Dick mentioned he grew up in East End, just like she thought. He also mentioned that Jason loved to read, which makes sense. Growing up in East End meant he was probably denied a proper education. Reading was probably the closest thing to it.

A self-taught survivor.

Then Jessica remembered the stance Jason held. Posed, ready to shoot.

Self-taught up to a point. Who trained him? The mob?

Jessica flipped it open, thumb hovering over the number.

It would be a stupid thing to do. She would definitely piss him off. But if she played her cards right, started a conversation with him like before…

Jessica dialed the number. She listened to it ring once. Twi-

“What.”

Jessica couldn’t help but smirk, feeling strangely giddy. “Boy, don’t you sound happy.”

Her body felt loose. Her actions were automatic. And know, as she sat in her chair, safe in her apartment, calling a guy she should not be talking to, she was ready to admit it.

She was more than drunk. She was hammered.

“I said to call only when it’s important.”

“Well, it is.”

“Then what is it?��

“Wayne had his charity gala tonight.”

Silence. Then a sigh.

“And I’m guessing you went?”

“And you guessed correctly,” said Jessica, feeling her voice come out smooth and calm, the complete opposite of what she was actually feeling. “Even bought a dress and everything…” 

“So, what did you find out?”

Jessica sighed heavily, ignoring the slight disappointment she felt when he didn’t take the bait. “Nothing. Just that Bruce Wayne apparently loves cars and is asking his CEO for upgrades. Poor Fox probably has better shit to do…”

A slight pause, and then…

“Upgrades?”

Her brows furrowed at the question.

“Yeah,” Jessica drawled cautiously. “Upgrades.”

“Do you know what kind of upgrades?”

“Uhh,” She felt her face pinched, trying to remember. Why was he asking her this? “He mentioned tires, I think?”

“Wait, he? Who did you hear this from?”

“One of the sons.”

“Which one?”

“Dick.”

A snort from the other line. Jessica thought she heard him mutter “dumbass.”

“Does he know who you are?”

“Didn’t give a last name, and he didn’t seem to care too much.” Jessica shrugged. “I think he just wanted to get in my pants.”

“Or dress.”

A small smirk perked up at the corner of her mouth.

“Or dress,” Jessica repeated, her voice humming with warmth.

“Did Bruce see you?”

"Nope,” Jessica easily lied. “Too busy making speeches and whatnot."

"Hm."

"Is there something on your mind?"

"Don't worry about it."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Wow, I'm so reassured."

"As you should be. Everything's fine-"

"-is what someone says when things aren ' t fine." Jessica sighed. "What is it now?"

"Nothing-"

"Jason," Jessica said sternly. "I can't do my job unless you tell me what to look out for."

She could hear the scowl in his voice. "I know that."

"Then help me out,” Jessica bit back. “Why are you worried?"

"Let's just say it's difficult to get anything past Wayne. It's why I wish you would've told me before going to the gala."

"You want me to follow him, right?"

"Yeah, but carefully. You don't know what he's capable of."

The stern look as he towered over her. The tense silence walking back, not knowing what he was thinking…

"Yeah. I believe you."

Silence. Again.

Jessica huffed, stood up and went to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator door.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh, deciding what to have for dinner” she replied sarcastically.

“This late?”

“Being a PI usually means long nights.” Jessica held the phone between her ear and her shoulder, using both hands to hold the hotdog before taking a bite. “I’m sure you’re no stranger to that, seeing how you’re up now.”

No reply to that. She took it as confirmation that it was late, wherever he was at.

Jessica looked at what she had in the fridge; beer, milk (expired), cheese (wouldn’t touch that), and leftover hotdog from… three days ago?

Jessica sighed. “Hotdog again, I guess.”

“Not if it’s from the Monarch Theater.”

Jessica paused. He really was from East End if he knew about the hotdog guy.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“You’re serious? Hotdogs from the sketchy hotdog man?”

“He’s actually not that bad.” Jessica shut the fridge with her foot. “I seen him pass out hotdogs to the kids sometimes. Nice to know not everyone in this district is an asshole.”

It was quiet as she sat back down at her desk. Then Jessica paused, realizing that this is an opportunity. “You know, I’ve seen the kids around East End. They look, rough. I’m sure people like Black Mask have an easy time recruiting them…”

Silence again, but he didn’t hang up either.

Was she right?

“I have to go,” he finally said. “This does not count as an emergency by the way-”

“He was weird,” Jessica said suddenly, not wanting the conversation to end yet.

“Who?”

Instead of answering, Jessica took a bite out of her hotdog. Let him wait like she did.

“Who?! Wayne?!”

“Yeah,” she finally got out, struggling to chew through the dry-ass bun.

“I thought you said he didn’t see you.”

“He didn’t.” Jessica lied, swallowing down her food  “He just, seemed weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Like…” Jessica struggled to find the words. “Grave. Serious. The dude was not in a good mood.”

“What do you mean?”

Jessica took another quick bite, giving herself time to explain. “I’ve seen plenty of people in bad moods before. They mop around, act all pissed, try to throw hands…” The thugs from the bar flashed in her mind. She swallowed. “But this mood was… something. It was like a switch. He wasn’t Bruce Wayne anymore, but like… a different person…”

It sounded stupid when she said it. Shit, Jessica was just being paranoid

“He’s planning something.”

Or maybe not.

“You think?” she asked carefully.

“I know.”

Of course he knew. Because he was Wayne’s son . There wasn’t any doubt now.

“So, what’s he planning?”

“That, I don’t know. But you need to keep your distance. Hold off investigating for about two weeks-”

“You’re supposed to drop by next week.”

“Not anymore. We’ll have to postpone it to next month. No more calls either.”

Jessica tried not to feel the twinge of disappointment she felt. She liked talking to him.

“Hide the phone somewhere no one will find it. Even better if it’s not in your apartment.” He sounded busy, like he was moving around. “Also, don’t be surprised if you see Dick again.”

“Oh, joy.” Jessica drawled sarcastically. “‘Cause I just love backflips.”

Jason snorted at the joke. “Wouldn’t hurt you to play along, but don’t try to question him. It’ll just make them more suspicious.”

“Them?”

“Oh, yeah. Assume he has a wire.”

“What the fuck is this?! The FBI?!” Jessica panicked, shotting up out of her seat. She began pacing the floor. “I thought he was just a regular cop.”

“A cop, yes. Regular, no. Look just- just stop asking questions. It’s better if you don’t know.”

“Stop asking questions? What the fuck did you get me into?!”

“That’s a question.” He replied rudely.

Jessica ran a panicked hand through her hair, continuing to pace. “Listen, asshat! You told me this was an easy job-”

“Relax. This is just a precaution. Just because Bruce is planning something doesn’t necessarily mean it has anything to do with you.”

Jessica bit her tongue, full-on knowing that it did have to do with her.

“Bruce has nothing. He just wants to scare you into spilling whatever you do know. Just lay low, and if you see Dick, don’t let him try to sweet-talk you.”

She huffed. “I’m not exactly easy to sweet-talk to.”

“I knew I liked you for a reason!”

And then he hung up.

Jessica growled with frustration, almost throwing the phone against the wall. Stop asking questions. What the fuck did that mean? Her whole job was to ask questions!

She ended up tossing the phone on her desk. It landed with a hard clack as Jessica leaned against her desk, facing her door. The black cutout of a backwards Alias Investigations stared back at her. 

Fuck that. She may have promised not to spill Jason’s identity, but that didn’t mean he could tell her what to do. No one could tell her what to do. She was going to ask questions. She was going to investigate, and she was going to find answers .

Even if she had to deal with a pretty boy cop to get them.

[pineapple-qween]

Super Twins!

Relationship: Batfam x Reader

Summary: Twins with strangely incompatible powers are spotted in Gotham and we all know what happens with Bruce and orphans.

Key: Y/N= your name, N/N= nickname

—————————————-

So there I was, minding my own business, flying through the lovely night air when a flipping boy ran into me. Or I guess flipped into me.

I can most defiantly say that he was just as surprised as I was as expressed in his eloquent, “What the hell,” as he returned to the world below me.

As much as I wanted to float there and laugh at the flipping boy, who was effectively getting himself back on course on the roof tops below, Clayton was waiting for me at the park and I couldn’t let him down again.

I guess I should tell you about myself.

Clayton is my twin brother, older only by 3 minutes which he loves to hold over me. And if you couldn’t tell, me and my brother have superpowers. I got the cooler power, I can control the air, but Clayton probably got the more practical power, he can control the ground. Our mother quickly abandoned us when she figured that out, because a baby that can float and one that can disappear into the ground? Yeah, easy to put us up for adoption. After six years of foster homes and orphanages, everyone got sick of the two of us and they planned on separating us, so we tunneled out. Clayton took me and we began roaming from city to city, staying alive and staying together for the past 10 years.

By the time I got to the park, I saw Clayton waiting next to one of those statues that I guess is modern art, but looks like a hockey stick with picture frames hot glued on, I digress.

“Y/N! I was starting to get worried about your dumbass.” Clayton grabbed my arm as I finished my descent and pulled me towards the middle of the park. “Gotham isn’t Central City, it’s way more dangerous! You could get shot or something.”

“As I fly through the air?” I gave him a snarky smile and he slapped my arm.

“Remember what I told you about Batman before we left? I heard that he flies and so do his partners. They could catch you and do who knows what.” He started to open the tunnel to the cavern where we would be staying before we moved to our next destination.

“I think I scared them more than they could scare me,” I scoffed thinking back to the flipping boy.

Clayton halted in his tracks, spun around and grabbed my shoulders. “You SAW one?”

Slightly uncomfortable I said, “Yeah, there was a guy who flipped into me and as he fell onto a roof top he said something like ‘That damn’, but I guess that could’ve been ‘Batman’,” I shrugged. “He couldn’t have gotten a good look at me and there’s no way he could’ve followed me.”

I was wrong.

Clayton and I heard the sound of a car screeching to a halt, as we turned to look at the source, a small boy, with what I guessed were katanas, flipped in front of us with swords pointed in our faces.

“Identify yourselves,” he yelled.

Before I could ask if his mom knew he was out past his bedtime, I recognized the taller boy behind him.

“Flippy boy? How did you find me?”

Clayton looked at me then to flippy boy and smacked his forehead. “You idiot...That’s Nightwing.”

“Who?”

The little boy scoffed. With a devious smirk on his face, he asked, “You don’t know Nightwing? Ha! Did you hear that Red Hood?”

A voice from behind me let out a low, but loud chuckle. “Yeah, I heard, demon.” The man walked around us to join the other two. “How’s that feel flippy boy?”

Flippy boy, or I guess Nightwing, let out an annoyed groan, “Come on man! B will be here in a minute. Can you just let it go until we get home?”

When the three began to bicker, I noticed Clayton giving me that sideways glance, the same one he gave me when we had to ditch the Flash a year or two ago. I grabbed his hand and slowly we began to slip into the earth.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a deep, gravely voice advised.

Barely shin deep in the ground, my brother quickly shot us back to the top and we tensed up, afraid to turn and find the one person we knew wouldn’t let us go so easy.

Batman, THE Batman, walked between us and, with one look, stopped the bickering match those boys had gotten into. “Now,” he faced us and his look made my hairs stand on end, “Who are you two? And no lies. I don’t have the patience for it.”

Clayton looked at me and I nodded.

“I’m David and this is my sister Ellen, we’re just passing through. We’re on our way to visit our aunt in Maine.” The lie was easy. Clayton had said it only a million times, but this time...he almost seemed unsure.

The look on Batman’s face didn’t change. I couldn’t help but feel like he was reading our entire lives while we just stood there. Then finally, “I said no lies.”

Clayton began, “I’m not-”

“My name’s Y/N and this is my brother Clayton. We’re orphans. We’ll be out of Gotham by Friday,” Clayton smacked my arm and looked at me incredulously, “What! He wasn’t gonna just let it go. Right?”

Red Hood laughed, “She’s right.”

“Orphan’s, huh,” Nightwing shifted uncomfortably, “B shouldn’t we, you know... help them?”

Batman seemed to ignore him. “And you two have superpowers?”

Clayton sighed dejectedly, “Yeah. She’s air. I’m earth.”

The smaller boy sneered, “Air? Earth? Tt-tt That sounds stupid.”

I scoffed, “It’s not like you have any superpowers. Do you, kid?”

I watched as a blush quickly spread across his face as Red Hood began cracking up. “No! But...but....”

“That’s what I thought,” I stuck my tongue out at him and turned back to Batman, which sort of ruined my moment. “How did you find us anyway?”

“Nightwing called out his location after his encounter with you in the sky, he tailed you best he could until we could catch up in the Batmobile. Then we just projected your trajectory to the park and found the fastest route.”

“Oh.” I was still confused.

“They followed you until they realized you were going to the park,” Clayton simplified.

“Ah.”

Batman return to his silent staring. Clayton’s grip on my hand tightened. I knew what he wanted me to do, but I was afraid. I was afraid of what Batman might do to us, but I couldn’t let my brother down. In that moment, I could feel every particle in the air that surrounded us and I told them to spin, fast. As we stood there, the wind picked up speed.

Nightwing gasped, “What’s happening!”

Before anyone could answer, the wind became a miniature tornado and I could feel the familiar sensation in my gut as I was losing energy, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it much longer. Clayton started to drag us under, knowing I would only be able to keep up the storm while I was surrounded by the air, he made quick work of getting us under the earth.

Once we made it to our hide out, Clayton let me collapse onto the ground. He slipped off his shoes and took a minute to feel the vibrations of the surface world. “They’re still up there. I think the kid is stabbing the ground where we sank.”

I tried to catch my breath, “Buh-Batman. He won’t just let us...go.”

“I know.”

“We can’t stay under...forever.”

“I know.” I could hear the exasperation in his voice.

“What...are we gonna...do?”

“I don’t know yet! Let me think.” Clayton’s face scrunched up the way it always did when he was planning his underground adventures. I could see how aggressively he was processing the information he was getting from the surface through his feet. “They got in the Batmobile, I can feel the way the car is going, but not for long. We should follow it.”

“What! Why in the world would we do that?”

“Stay right under their noses, and then I’d always be able to keep tabs on them. Come on. You know what we need to do.”

I groaned and got to my feet. “Yeah, yeah. Hop on.” Clayton got onto my back. “Damn, you way a ton.”

“Shut up and let’s go!” He opened the tunnel and I began to speed us along the path of the Batmobile.

After at least a solid day underground, I got hungry. 

“Clayyyy! Come on! I’m starving, let’s surface, please!”

“N/N, stop it! If you ask one more time, I will fight you.”

“But...CLAYTON! I’m hungry!” I dramatically clutched my stomach and flopped onto the ground, writhing around for a minute before:

“FINE! Let me check the surface before we just waltz up into where ever Batman goes when he’s not in the city.” Clayton took off his shoes and began to sense the surface.

“Wait, we aren’t in the city anymore? Where are we?”

“Shh!” He stood there for a moment. “We’re under some kind of cave, which you know messes with my senses. I can sense bats, but I don’t know if any people are above us.”

I shoved him aside and grabbed his hand, “I do not care. I’m hungry and I will begin to eat you if I don’t get food in the next minute. So let’s go!”

Clayton sighed and we began our ascent to the surface.

And where we appeared, I think everyone was confused.

Clayton and I suddenly appeared in what I would have thought to be a meeting. Only the things was...this wasn’t any ordinary cave and they weren’t any ordinary people. Also who holds meetings in caves?

There sat a middle aged man with black hair and striking blues eyes, but his eyes weren’t what I was focused on. It was the Batman suit he was wearing that looked way too real. He sprung to his feet the minute we were fully surfaced. “How did you get in here?” Even his voice was too perfect to be an imitation.

The way Clayton’s hand went slack in mine clued me into the fact that I’d be the one doing the talking. So I started with the perfect opening, “Buh-Buh-Batman?”

“You two!” The words came from the young boy who had a liking for swords as he was holding one currently, and it was aimed at my face. His green eyes held this horrible hardness that a kid should never have.

“Uh, yeah. It’s us...again.” I shifted awkwardly, squeezing my brother’s hand in hopes he’d regain his words. “So...this is a nice cave you got here.” Which wasn’t wrong, it really was a cool cave, and I had stayed in a lot of caves so I should know. “Got a real nice...uh...ambiance to it.”

The cave looked less like a cave and more like a basement, if you had to make a comparison. It had a computer the size of a projector screen on one side and an entire armory on the other. Stairs wrapped into the rock and led up to an unknown location. There was a giant penny and even a T-Rex, if you could believe that! Sat at the table in front of us was the middle age man, the boy, two other younger men, a teenage boy, two teenage girls, a young woman, and an older gentleman in a nice suit. (It was a big table.) Beside the older man and the young woman, they all were in some sort of dark costume.

The teenage boy spoke to the man in the Batman suit, “Uh, do you know these guys?”

“We followed Y/N to the park the other day when she was meeting up with Clayton,” he nodded to my brother who was still limply staring at them.

The young woman took out a tablet. “The ones with the powers, right. Uh...here’s the body cam shots!” She showed what I assumed was a video to the rest of the table.

“You did that?” The blonde girl stared at me wide-eyed. “You created a tornado?”

I felt myself begin to blush. “Uh, yeah...I did.”

“Awesome...” She leaned back in her chair with a wonder filled expression on her face.

Batman marched over to where we were standing. “You never answered my question.”

“Right, how we got in here. Well...” I glanced at Clayton who seemed to finally be coming to his senses. “He’s probably the better one to tell you.”

Clayton basically explained how his powers work and how we tracked the Batmobile to the Batcave, what the rest of them called it, and how we were hiding out underground to hopefully avoid a confrontation like this.

“So...are you gonna kill us?” Clay pulled me closer, he always did that when he got protective.

Batman stared at us in shock for a minute before regaining his composure. “Kill you? God, no. We don’t kill.”

“Well...” the young man with a white streak in his hair began.

Batman sent him a glare. “We don’t kill.”

“Alright,” the man conceded.

“Oh thank god.” Clayton relaxed his grip on my arm. “So, what are you going to do with us?”

My stomach made a sound like a dying whale.

The older gentleman stood and walked over to us. “First,” he said with a British accent, “we will feed the both of you.”

The food was better then anything I have ever had in my life. Fresh pizza, bread sticks, and clean water. Clayton and I scarfed it down until we were full, something we hadn’t been in years.

“You’d think they’d never have eaten,” Damian, the green-eyed boy, scoffed.

“Well, we don’t really have money and places notice if more than a little food goes missing,” Clayton said as he ate his fifth bread stick.

Dick Grayson, or I guess Nightwing, asked,“So you two really go from city to city, doing what exactly?”

I took a break from chugging my water. “Running from social services. Two more years until they’re off our tail and we don’t have to worry about being separated anymore.” I started on my fourth slice of pizza.

Dick looked at Batman, who is none other than Bruce Wayne, with a weird sort of sad expression.

“But don’t worry! We got it under control, we’ve been doing this for ten years.” I gave him a lopsided smile. Dick’s sad expression deepened.

“Well, I understand what it’s like on the streets.” Jason, the man with the white streak, rustled my brother’s hair and sat down next to him.

Clayton flattened his hair, “You do?”

“I was on the street before Bruce took me under his wing to be Robin. He caught me stealing the wheels off the Batmobile.”

I busted out laughing. “You stole the Batmobile’s wheels! That’s amazing.”

Bruce was smirking, “Yes, but he didn’t get very far.”

They began telling us stories about themselves. How Dick became the first Robin. How Tim figured out who Batman was. The time when Stephanie basically forced herself into Batman vigilante gang. Why Jason calls Damian demon. Barbara’s stint as Batgirl and now her job as Oracle. The boys worked together to explain Casandra’s story, but she would just shake her head and laugh to herself. Alfred told stories about a younger Bruce.

Clayton and I sat and listened and laughed and, for the first time, I knew we both felt safe. Clayton made no effort to disappear and I didn’t want to fly away. 

By the time they seemed to run out of stories, I could feel the way my eye lids grew heavy and the yawns came more frequently. Bruce offered one of the rooms in his home for Clayton and I to stay in for the night. We hesitantly accepted, after ten years of sleeping on dirt and rocks, I almost was afraid to sleep on a real bed and enjoy it’s comforts, but Clayton was more accepting of the idea. Alfred lead us up the stairs that disappeared within the rocks and through a hole covered by a grandfather clock.

The house was not a house, but a gigantic mansion. Each room seemed to be bigger than the last and the hallways look like they went on for miles. The first floor of the manor was larger than any orphanage my brother and I had ever been in, and that wasn’t including the movie room and the kitchen. I would peak into rooms we passed, each one making me more in awe than the last. Once we reached the second floor, Alfred took us to an unoccupied bedroom.

“My apologies, this is the only room currently available. If you wish to stay longer with us, I will gladly empty out one of the rooms being used for storage.” Alfred gestured for us to enter. “If you need anything else, please let me know. The bathroom is the first door on the right, the closet is the second one and has spare blankets if you need them. Have a good night.” He closed the door behind him, but we didn’t move.

The room was probably three times bigger than any room we’ve ever stayed in and we’ve always been forced to share a room so they always felt smaller, but this room was amazing. The far wall was just windows over looking an enormous garden. The bed was queen sized at least and covered in the softest looking comforter I had ever seen. Clayton was the first one of us to move, and he made his way to the bathroom.

“Y/N, there’s a full sized bathtub and a shower in here.”

I made my way over to the bed, sat down, and stared out the window. The mattress’s softness welcomed me to lay down. “This bed is so comfortable.”

Clayton joined me on the bed. “Did you hear what Alfred said?”

“About staying longer? Yeah.” I thought about it for a moment. “It’s too good to be true, right?”

“Gotta be.”

“No way a man like Bruce Wayne would want two super powered street rats, right?”

Clayton yawned, “No way.”

I listen to him turn and settle into a comfortable position. “This is too good to last, isn’t it?”

“Mhmm...”

I heard Clayton’s breathing settle into a rhythm and I knew he was asleep. I tried to get comfortable too, but the worries filled my head. I laid there and stared out over the garden, afraid that when I woke up, we would be back underground and this was all a dream.

I wandered out of the room and down the stairs. I made my way to the back of the house and found myself in the gardens. I walked around before I found a nice bench in front of a fountain. Lost in thought while staring into the water, I didn’t hear the footsteps approaching where I was sitting.

“May I join you?”

I jumped three feet high, literally, but then returned to the ground when I realized it was Bruce.

A blush radiated across my face, “Mr. Wayne, sorry. You startled me.”

He chuckled then gestured to the bench, “Care to sit?”

I nodded and we sat together. We sat in a comfortable silence for what felt like forever before he spoke up again. “Can I ask why you’re sitting out here and not asleep?”

“Uh...I don’t know. Not tired, I guess.” I felt the skeptical stare burn into my skin. I sighed, “It’s too good to be true.”

��What is?”

I gestured to the manor behind me then the garden around me. “All of this,” I limply gestured to Bruce, “You. Your kindness.” I could feel my throat getting tighter and the burning behind my eyes. I let my head fall and my hair cover my face, so he couldn’t see my weakness. First lesson you learn as a street kid, show no weakness.

Again we sat in silence until Bruce broke it. “I can say I don’t know what it is like to live day to day. Without someone who cares about your well being-”

“Clayton cares about me,” I snapped. The tears spilled down my cheeks as I glare at him.

“Right, sorry. I meant an adult who can actively provide for both of you.”

I scoffed, “Adults don’t know how to care, all they want is the government paycheck they can get by doing nothing.” I saw his expression, a mix of hurt and sadness. I felt my own face soften, “I’m sorry Mr. Wayne. I don’t mean to take this out on you.”

He gave me a sad smile, “Please, call me Bruce. And I understand. While I’ve never been in your situation, you’ve heard the stories my kids told you. I want to help.”

“You wouldn’t want Clayton and me. We aren’t worth the trouble, especially since we’ll be on our own in two years anyway. We can take care of ourselves until then.”

“But what if you didn’t have too?”

“What do you mean?”

Bruce chuckled softly then looked me in the eyes, “I would like for you to join our family. It’s not perfect by any means, but we all look out for one another. You wouldn’t have to keep moving around and you and your brother wouldn’t have to worry about being separated.”

I stared deadpanned at him. Bruce Wayne had asked me if I wanted to join his family. I waited for the “just kidding!” or the “I can’t believe you fell for that!” but it never came.

“You- you’re serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“No strings?”

“Only that you occasionally help out on patrols, your guys’ powers could be really helpful.”

“I’ll- I’ll have to ask Clay...”

Bruce patted me on the shoulder, “No need to make a decision tonight. Go get some rest, we’ll talk more tomorrow.” And with that he stood up, gave me a soft smile, and walked back towards the manor.