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britcision · 2 years ago

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Listen. If being mean to you guys wasn’t so much funnier than giving you exactly what you wanted, I swear I wouldn’t do it.

But it is. It really is.

As always, AO3 link is still in the first chapter!

First:

Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikoyuii @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @arandomturd @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10

———————

Danger Twink Powers Activate

“Danger Twink is on the move!” It was Nightwing yelling it into the comms. It had to be, because not a damn one of the rest of them could have got through that sentence without laughing.

Oh, his voice was all joyful glee and Spoiler was soooo mad she left when she did because what the fuck is she missing, but the message was clear.

Things in the ballroom hit a flashpoint, and for some reason Danny was doing the shit kicking. She’d wonder what the fuck Jason thought he was doing, since he’d been in arm’s reach of the guy all evening, but.

Yeah. Last she saw, Croc was separating them. Apparently Danny took a little less kindly to that than you’d think.

“Report?” She asked hopefully, half wanting to be called back to the hall. She’d nearly reached Black Bat, but let’s be honest.

Ten, fifteen Riddler minions? Bat could finish them before she even got there.

Red Robin sounded annoyed, as he always did when one of them (usually Damian) jumped the gun on him.

“They were walking Jason Todd towards a bomb vest. His civilian friend took exception to that, and now he’s… Wing what would you call that?”

“If the kid was twice the size I’d call that a classic sumo stance but he’s a fucking twink so it’s never gonna… well fuck me.”

Red Robin picked up the narrative again, now deadpan.

“He’s stopped Killer Croc dead and lifted him off the ground. Might be a butchered judo throw.”

“Need me back in there?” Spoiler pressed, both fingers crossed even as she ran down a hall. She’d only gone down one flight, there was a balcony into the dining hall.

She could make it.

“Negative, Spoiler. Get to Black Bat, Robin make sure that machine can’t be activated. Signal?”

Fucker. She’d make Tim suffer for it once they were all out of costume.

“You’d better fucking record the fight,” she grumbled, even as Signal buzzed in, sounding almost out of breath.

“Close, just got another block to clear.”

“Would this be a good time to remind you all that Fenton is a meta?” Robin bit out, shades of sarcasm filtering all the way through the falsely conversational tone.

Spoiler damn near tripped as Nightwing cursed.

“Okay fucking what?” That was a little important to be skipped over.

“Shit, yeah, sorry Robin… we didn’t have time to fill you guys in, Robin thinks he saw Fenton teleport. But he’s not teleporting now,” Nightwing added quickly, the frown clear in his voice.

As was Robin rolling his eyes.

“Abnormal strength is one of the most common meta abilities, in case you’d forgotten. Watch closely for the rest of his power set.”

Red Robin cut across them both, voice sharp. New factors always put him on edge.

“Robin saw, or Robin thinks he saw? Can we confirm this?”

Which, ouch, Red Robin might need to check his room for traps for a while.

Spoiler flinched, even through a grin. As much as it sucked for them, it was good fun for her when the Robins squared off. If either ever asked for help, she’d be happy to provide.

“He thought he saw, but the timelines didn’t match up. It was maybe three minutes before we bumped into you, they couldn’t have crossed the hall in time,” Nightwing explained gently, trying to keep the peace.

Robin clearly already had vengeance on his mind.

“I saw them all disappear, Nightwing, it is hardly my fault if the rest of you are incompetent! Black Bat agreed,” he added almost sullenly, and oh Spoiler could see the pout now.

And hear the faintest hint of smugness under the last declaration. Poor kid still had such a hard time accepting anyone believed in him.

Might have helped if he spent less time insisting that he was better than everyone else and they were all beneath him, but hey, League of Assassins training didn’t include humility.

Not for the heir to the Demon Head, anyway. Black Bat managed just fine.

And added in her two cents pretty much immediately, backing Robin up.

“Agreed. May not be strict teleportation, but Fenton has meta abilities of some kind. Shadows?” She asked, and the chat went silent for a moment, clearly waiting on Signal to weigh in.

His sigh was as resigned and tired as could be imagined.

“I’m not going to know until I get a look at him, guys, you know that. Might be cool if he does though, it’d be nice to have another meta on the team,” he added thoughtfully.

Robin tutted, but before he could voice his opinions of that Red Robin butted in again.

“Current circumstances may indicate that Fenton at least isn’t averse to conflict, but that doesn’t mean he’s on the right side. All that can wait for now, do you have an ETA, Signal?” He asked, clearly still typing away in the meantime.

Yeah, keeping the bats on task was a little like herding cats. They’d get the job done (and look good doing it), but keeping the comms cleared of banter was just never gonna happen.

“I’m outside, can’t see anyone at first glance. Want me to lock the place down?” Signal replied, and Spoiler sighed.

Bringing Signal in after dark always felt like cheating. Boy got OP in all of the shadows. Even if there might be someone else playing in them tonight.

Red Robin ignored her comment, still all business.

“Scan for Two Face or any of his crew first, go a block or two over. He may have been planning the initial attack. Can you cover up the damaged windows?

She could hear Signal sucking air through his teeth. A habit they’d all tried to break him of, if only for the truly ratty way it crackled over comms.

“I can up the lights inside, but not if I’m a block away. Priorities?”

“Scan first. Black Bat, Spoiler and Robin, when you’re done assist Signal. We have things handled in here.”

“And I’m recording it for you Spoiler, pinky promise,” Nightwing added gleefully, and she really wanted to kick him. “I left a camera high before joining the fun. Found Riddler yet Little Red?”

“Call me that again, Discowing.”

“Uh, that was a have you found the Riddler, Red Robin?”

“Not yet. It’ll go faster if you all shut up and do your jobs.” Red Robin still sounded actually annoyed rather than having fun, and Spoiler snickered.

“He’s worried his new best friend will be in danger,” she sang into comms, launching herself down a staircase and landing neatly with her knees planted on the shoulders of a running goon.

The burly woman toppled and Spoiler smacked her head off the floor for good measure, pulling out her zip ties.

“Civilians in danger is supposed to worry us, Spoiler,” Red Robin sniped back and she sighed again.

Yeah, okay, he had a bug in his ass. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to anyone either. Riddler must have bought the good encryption today.

“Yessir Red Robin. Shutting up,” she agreed with a one finger salute he’d never see, then continued on.

Missing all the fun just because the boys didn’t want to share. Wasn’t that always the way?

Honestly, if it hadn’t been Killer Croc Jason might not have suggested going rogue. Riddler’s guys carried guns, and even without the man himself around any spray would probably catch a hostage.

But Croc was a good guy, as weird as that might seem to say about a rogue. He’d been dealt a crappy hand, and while he wouldn’t shy away from violence on his own account, he had a kind heart.

He’d helped Roy get clean, and curbed Jason’s own more destructive tendencies in the past. Croc kept almost but not quite getting out of the life.

And, as expected, even as the big guy hauled himself to his feet he roared at the tensed goons.

“You lot get the fuckin’ bats, I can handle a scrawny little shit!” Slitted eyes narrowed as he turned to find Danny, who grinned back.

“Y’know, you’d be real surprised how often I hear that,” Danny snarked, shaking out his shoulders.

Jason resisted the urge to laugh, backing carefully away from the pair and the Riddler goons not already disarmed by Nightwing.

He wasn’t allowed to get in on the action in civvies, but he could throw the world’s clumsiest punch if none of his siblings were looking.

He could hear them over his comms, hurriedly coordinating, but for now he zoned them out. Better to focus on Croc and Danny.

Croc chuckled softly at Danny’s remark, flexing his claws.

“And yer still here. Is that what I’m supposed to get from that?” He asked in a low, rumbling voice. Danny just shrugged cheerfully.

“Or that I’m a habitual problem on purpose who never learns his lesson. Either’s good, really.” Spreading his feet to shoulder width apart, he flexed his knees and raised both hands.

Killer Croc actually laughed at that, ignoring the Riddler goons now firing up towards the ceiling.

“Shoulda stayed down on the floor, kid. Nobody’s gotta get hurt today,” he growled, which Jason felt was frankly unfair.

“As the guy who was being led to a bomb vest, I’m good with an intervention,” he quipped, raising both hands innocently when Croc shot him a look. “Man exploding hurts, I dunno if you’ve tried it.”

Jason had. He was mostly okay joking about it.

From the sudden worried look Danny shot him, maybe that “mostly” showed through a little too much.

Right. Because Danny still didn’t know how he’d died. Hopefully still didn’t, anyway.

Before he could try and work out what to say, or to send or whatever, Croc lunged at Danny.

Jason expected him to dodge. Danny was built like a Robin, lean and slender, and from what Jason had seen so far almost always smaller than his opponents.

Definitely smaller than Killer Croc.

Danny didn’t dodge. Tensing in place, he met Croc’s charge dead on. And stopped it in its tracks, not even sliding back across the floor.

And yeah, Jason was gonna have to stop being surprised every time the future Ghost King flexed, he’d gotten there by kicking ass but this was the first time Jason had seen him fight.

He was gonna enjoy it.

Croc looked just as stunned as Jason, both wrists caught in Danny’s hands as the kid grinned up at him.

“Blowing up definitely sucks, 0/10 don’t recommend,” he agreed with a smirk, shifted his grip, and tossed Killer Croc across the floor.

The large meta threw himself back to his feet, an almost growling chuckle breaking free.

“You’ve got some moves, kid, I’ll give yer that,” he rumbled, closing the distance a little more carefully, now wary of Danny’s hands.

Jason was dimly aware of Dick kick flipping his way around in the background. There was already a lot less gunfire. And while he’d usually be kibitzing, there was a new show on today.

Killer Croc vs Danger Twink, ten rounds no waiting.

The gala hall descended into madness faster than Bruce could ever have anticipated. If he’d been concerned when Jason had been singled out, it was only worse when the bomb vest appeared.

Jason would likely have been fine; none of the bats would let him get seriously injured and hells, Jason could have disabled the vest himself.

Bruce could see the wiring from his spot on the floor, apparently completely forgotten by all as Croc faced off against that scrungly fucking kid.

Danny Fenton, whoever he was, was reckless, dangerous, and clearly didn’t care what happened to those around him.

Danny Fenton wouldn’t let Jason be trapped in a bomb vest. Would put his own life on the line to prevent that if necessary, wrestling with a gigantic cannibalistic meta.

Danny Fenton was almost certainly a meta himself. Even Batman couldn’t throw Killer Croc around like that.

It was hard for Bruce to maintain his usual analytical detachment, watching as Killer Croc took a wide swipe. Danny ducked away, still grinning, bright as anything.

It was always hard when something involved Jason. The presence of a new meta on complicated things further.

Bruce wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, though part of him wanted more than anything to at least push his comms back in and check in with the children.

Nightwing was present and had already disarmed a good chunk of the goons, which meant there had to be more outside. They wouldn’t send him in alone if there was another choice.

Croc’s order had at least kept the gunfire high will Nightwing fucked around on the pillars. As usual he was having far too much fun for the severity of the situation, but Bruce couldn’t fault him that.

There were far too many surly protectors of the night, and he’d do what he could to keep Dick from ever being one of them.

Not least because there were only so many good brooding gargoyles around.

The man was still an effective crime fighter, and Bruce always appreciated the chance to watch him work. It was the only good thing about being stuck in civilian wear.

Jason would usually agree, he was the only one who hated being out of the fight even more than Bruce or even Damian, yet… if Bruce dragged his attention away from Killer Croc, his boy looked almost happy.

Deeply entertained, cheering Danny on from the sidelines. At least he was keeping out of the fight himself.

Right up until two more of the Riddler’s goons advanced on him, directed by Tablet Goon.

“Fools! Just bring the boy here, let Croccy deal with that pest! And take down that bird!”

Bruce tensed, wishing there was something more direct he could do. Red Robin and Oracle would both be hard at work cracking the tablet, and he’d never out pace them.

Still, there had to be something. Nightwing alone clearly wasn’t enough to scare Riddler off, so whatever plans they’d had were still a danger.

Jason didn’t even seem to notice the burly couple now advancing on him as he watched the fight, which was unusually careless.

Danny must be a worse influence than Bruce had thought. Or was it intentional? Blunting Jason’s sharp senses and telling him it dulled the pit?

Nightmare scenarios built themselves through Bruce’s head, even more as the large woman grabbed Jason by the shoulder. He visibly startled and tried to pull away, swinging a punch of his own.

Clumsy. Apparently untrained. Good. There was a chance his surprise was also an act, and Bruce almost felt bad for his suspicions.

But no, he knew Jason better than anyone. He could tell when Jason was or wasn’t faking. He was just still quick on his feet, clever as always.

Unfortunately there were too many goons for Nightwing to be of much help to his brother. He was keeping the guns high, striking with his batarangs to knock weapons from their owners’ hands.

He couldn’t get free to get to Jason.

And Jason couldn’t fight to the best of his abilities, even if he had already given both goons a bloody nose each. He landed a couple more hits before a third goon hurried over, catching him from behind.

Part of Bruce regretted telling Jason to stay visible. If he’d known he was going to be targeted… but no, the other guests would surely have noticed if he disappeared.

There was something almost like panic on Jason’s face as he was lifted, but no, that would be part of the act. Red Hood could take twice as many in under a minute.

Maybe excitement? Maybe upset that he wouldn’t be able to see the rest of the fight? Or that he couldn’t intervene when Danny needed him?

Danny was still fighting with Killer Croc too, utterly oblivious that the one he was trying to protect was being dragged away.

Untrained. With some experience, certainly, but no formal schooling to raise his situational awareness.

Bruce added it to his notes on the young man. There was a chance Danny had a little vigilante experience, in sleepy Amity Park.

Probably nothing more than some human muggers or gangsters. Nothing that would have prepared him for someone like Killer Croc.

It was almost a shame, really, the kid was quippy enough to be a Robin, bantering with Croc between grabs and punches. Light on his feet too, darting in to strike himself between blows.

Perhaps he’d befriend Dick as well. Or Tim. Either may be able to help him away from whatever bad habits he’d fallen into.

At the very least, keep him from dragging Jason down after him. His boys might be a good influence on the young meta. Would he be too old to talk to Duke?

And unfortunately his lack of experience was beginning to tell too, Bruce’s breath catching as Croc finally got a hand around the boy’s throat.

Danny was lifted from the ground, then slammed bodily into the floor. A startled squeak punched out of him, making him sound painfully young and something in Bruce lurched.

No matter what else he was, what kind of trouble he got into, that boy was the same age as his sons. Had jumped into a fight he couldn’t expect to win for his son.

They need to do something.

Danny barely even registered Jason’s message when it brushed across him, the tension of that ready-ready-ready sparking a moment of actual fear.

Barely there, gone in a second, but it slammed back into something Jason had said earlier on and Danny knew he had to go.

Before they got far enough he couldn’t reach. Before they could put Jason, the kid who blew up, in a fucking bomb vest.

Because that was what happened to the second Robin, wasn’t it? No one knew for sure, but the Joker liked to crow about it when he was particularly riled up.

Even if Danny hadn’t believed it before, the second he felt Jason’s heart stop seeing the vest gave it credence.

And yeah, Danny was just not gonna think about how quickly he’d gone back to business as usual, especially not to be jealous? Cuz nothing good that way lay.

Fucking Gotham. If Jason had lived pretty much anywhere else, getting out of the game woulda gotten him far enough from explosives to not need to face that trigger.

It cast a shadow over what was supposed to be just some fun, a fight in his human form for a change. Just a chance to rattle the batkids and get his ass hauled up to the stage beside Jason.

Because that? That was serious. That wasn’t happening.

Nobody was going to shove his Knight’s death in his face on Danny’s watch. No matter how much Jason’s aura had settled, a constant brush of gleeful-excited-kick his ass.

It didn’t erase the memory of that one heartbeat of dread that froze Danny’s core.

Although since he could kinda see Nightwing bouncing around from the corner of his eye, that wasn’t likely to be a Danny-only problem.

Maybe he could play Match The Wayne To The Bat once that damn vest was out of play.

He was almost having fun again, enjoying the experience of getting into a fight as a human, of not having a secret identity to protect.

No one in fucking Gotham cared about some ghost hero from Amity Park, not even if they were about to look him up. They had his name, his damn parents would tell them the rest.

It was nice to see just what his human body could do, rolling away from claw strikes and hitting back against tough scales.

And then he heard Jason swear. Felt the tug and sudden emptiness as he was pulled away between them.

Attention suddenly divided, he didn’t realise Croc’s hand was on his neck until he’d already hit the floor.

Jason didn’t consciously will the gun to his hand. It never quite got to the mental act of wanting it to appear.

He just heard his king make a noise of pain and his struggling hand closed around a pistol grip that wasn’t quite real. Not yet.

A startled glance showed nothing there, but he could feel the sense of the gun, just waiting for that final act of want.

It was an effort of will to resist, especially as he was being wrestled up to the stage.

Which had been part of the plan. Get close enough to provide backup for Bruce, see if he could knock the tablet somewhere Dick could get it, whatever.

He wasn’t actually struggling, and probably wouldn’t until they actually tried to put the vest on him. That, yeah, he was gonna pass on, but if he got close enough he could disarm it.

He did manage to wrench around enough to see Croc scrape Danny back out of a now cracked section of floor.

Knew he wasn’t controlling the sudden flare of rage-concern-protect-protect-How Dare He, because every ounce of his self control went to not closing his hand around the gun.

He’d left it at home, extremely deliberately. Under lock and key in his own gun safe, in his own safe house, before even going to the manor.

Fun new things to learn about being a halfa, adding this one to the list. Nobody said anything about the damn gun being able to teleport.

(Not that he was complaining. It was damn convenient, and a decent substitute for the All Blades. Hopefully having two weird magic pact weapons wasn’t gonna cause interference.)

Not summoning it got even harder when Danny reached back, brushing safe-fine-worry-now what even as Croc began dragging him after them, towards the front.

Jason hesitated for a heartbeat, not sure how to answer. Not even sure what his options to answer were, or how complicated he could make it.

So far it had mostly been emotions, intent, and there were limits to what you could really say without words. It was great for clarifying and expanding a message, but to plan?

Yeah, limited was the generous way to put it.

Why was Danny worried now? This was part of the plan, getting them up to the front.

Danny didn’t… feel hurt? Even as he rag-dolled in Croc’s grip, there wasn’t a trace of pain or even discomfort, and maybe Danny could hide that but Clockwork said he’d always know.

It was kinda his job. So what the fuck was Jason missing?

Scanning the room, his confusion only grew. Nightwing was making his way through the goons with batarangs and bolas, and most of them hadn’t switched to “help our fallen comrades” yet.

Bruce was still on the floor, completely forgotten. The rest of the hostages were fine, also on the floor, mostly quiet. No meat shields in sight yet.

His confusion must have spread across, because he felt Danny’s swell to match it, and then another gentle brush.

Death-protect-won’t hurt you

Jason tensed again, wondering where the fuck Danny thought the Joker was, and then remembering… Danny didn’t know. They’d never talked about how he’d died.

Specifically avoided it, actually. So what…

All on its own, his gaze landed on the bomb vest. Now discarded on the floor, the goons who’d been carrying it being harried by Nightwing and scolded all around by Riddler’s tablet, also on the floor.

Had. Had Danny felt that moment of fear? Recognised what it was?

Fucking Jason had barely even felt it, had made his usual jokes about it that made his family groan. It was practically routine.

Was Danny the only person in his life who wasn’t used to him coming face to face with his death?

Something grew painfully tight in Jason’s chest at the thought, but he soothed it down. Hell, if Danny had felt him wobble, that wouldn’t fuckin’ help.

He was fine. This was all going according to plan, though if Dickie had his say they might not even get through the whole plan.

Jason did his part, struggling just enough to keep all three of his goons engaged with dragging him to the front. Croc was also beginning to look annoyed, gesturing with Danny like he was a stuffed toy.

“What, yer boys can’t even handle one little bird, Eddie?!” He roared, leaping forwards to land heavily on the stage.

Jason’s awareness of Danny spiked, and he did his best to project wait-wait-safe-I’m fine. Wasn’t sure how to communicate “we can keep the same plan”.

Danny looked around again, eyes meeting his for just a moment, and Jason tipped him a wink between dramatic grimacing. Maybe flexed his arms just a little more than necessary.

Keep the show going.

Even left behind, he felt Danny’s aura soothe. Felt it wrap around him almost like a giant hand, like he was something fragile and soft.

Reassurance-trust-safe

Well, it was a start, but Jason would prefer Danny was having fun. That had been the whole damn point of getting involved.

It was a little tricky to work out how to share the feelings without changing his expression, but he settled for head butting the woman holding his left arm.

It gave him a moment where he could let the grin slip, a fierce satisfaction meeting the spray of blood.

Confident-happy-fun

Even if they got the bomb vest onto him, Riddler was easy. He had a pattern, a method he refused to deviate from, and while he was one of the more cerebral rogues?

He just wasn’t ready for the Red Hood brute force technique. There’d be clues in the vest, some complicated puzzle, but every puzzle had a cheat code.

Now the game was who finished the fight first, them or Nightwing.

Croc stomped up onto the stage, bending to scoop up the bomb vest with the hand not holding Danny by the neck.

Just gonna leave Riddler’s tablet yelling and swearing camera down on the floor.

Vibes. Danny might be new to town, but Riddler just wasn’t growing on him. Maybe it was all the armed goons.

Maybe it was just because he hadn’t even bothered to show up. Like, give a guy something to work with. At least Killer Croc got his own hands dirty.

Inspiration struck and Danny, reassured by Jason’s continuing cheerfulness, casually let his legs flop forward to tangle around Croc’s as he turned to rise.

The big guy didn’t fully trip, but he stumbled forward enough that Danny could use a quick moment of telekinesis to tug the bomb vest from his hand, sending it skidding across the floor towards Bruce Wayne.

If the guy was Batman, that’d be that problem pretty neatly solved. It should even look like Croc threw it by accident to any outsiders.

As if to sell the idea, Croc roared in frustration again, ripping Danny up and away from him and holding him at arm’s length.

“You are beginning to wear on my patience, kid,” he growled, eyes narrowed. Danny gave his best innocent grin back, clutching at the hand at his throat.

It hadn’t actually been cutting off his oxygen until now. Not that he needed it, it was just worth noting.

Remembering to struggle for air was the key.

“Aww and here I thought we were bringing the house down,” he teased, his voice coming out a little choked. Always helpful.

And being all the way up gave him a great vantage point to check on the rest of the room.

About half of the goons were down now, either twisted up or unconscious, and the rest were getting smarter. Or maybe the dumber ones had just gone down first.

They were hiding behind pillars and tables now, not out in the open where Nightwing could get them without coming down.

And coming down would put the civilians in the line of fire.

None of the civilians were making a break for it either, just sat in their groups on the floor not making a peep. Danny might think they were too scared to move if he hadn’t been in one of the groups.

As far as they were concerned, the outcome was pretty much guaranteed.

It was really, really fucking weird. But then, so was willingly living in this city and coming to these events, which were routinely attacked by costumed weirdos, so.

Croc interrupted his thoughts by grunting and tossing him aside, then stomping towards Bruce and the vest. Skidding on his back, Danny took advantage to snag the Riddler’s tablet as he passed.

Sure, he had no idea which of the bats would be trying to hack it or how they’d be doing it, but he knew what Tuck would want. The tablet itself if possible, VPNs turned off and wifi set to open if not.

He also turned the volume off before flipping it over and covering the camera. As much fun as giving a wave would be, Danny had Opinions about people who brought bomb vests to parties.

Opinions that had only gotten significantly stronger now that he had a suspicion of how Jason had died.

Yeah. They were gonna talk. Before they got to the halfa training if possible, because… yeah. If Jason hadn’t seen his ghost form yet, that was gonna suck.

Maybe he should have Jazz on standby.

Tucking himself more firmly into his nook in the ceiling, Red Robin swore into the comms as bullets clipped past about a foot away.

“Fuck’s sake Nightwing, could you not swing by while you’re taking fire?” He grumbled, most of his attention still fixed on his wrist computer.

He had the stream, was almost through to Riddler’s actual location, if he could just…

He completely missed Nightwing’s reply as his computer beeped, letting him know that the tablet’s VPN had just shut down.

He had everything. Full access to all files, location tracking data for the last month, even the search history.

Everything he’d have been scraping for evidence when the dust settled and he got the device itself in hand, just… laid bare. It almost felt like cheating.

Sticking his head out far enough to get a visual, he searched desperately for the tablet. It had been up on the stage, but Riddler’s background ranting was suddenly gone…

Red Robin’s jaw dropped. Slowly rose again as he swallowed, reaching up to tap his comms.

“Danger Twink has the tablet.”

The connection fell dead silent, the entire group quieting even in their own independent fights.

Shaking himself, Red Robin closed his wrist computer. They weren’t done just yet.

“Nightwing, I’m now free to join the party. See if you can’t get the kid away from those goons while I round up some stragglers. Spoiler, Black Bat, report?”

In a hallway closer to the kitchens, Spoiler rolled her eyes and rolled off the last goon, tugging out another set of zip ties.

Black Bat was already up and scanning the area, but there were no more sounds of running feet.

“Wrapping up here. Ten presents for the fuzz all tied with a bow. Want us to come and join you?” She asked hopefully.

Of course she was still missing the good stuff. Jason’s new boyfriend was fucking great, they’d have to restrain Bruce from pulling out the bat-doption papers before the end of the night.

Given half a chance the kid would probably pull on a suit of spandex and join them with his sense of self preservation… or lack thereof.

If he could learn to be discrete in public.

Red Robin, of course, crushed all her hopes to dust.

“Hold on that. Robin, report?”

Robin tutted, ducking under a kick and darting in, catching the bulky man off balance and taking him to the floor. Half a dozen quick strikes landed before they hit and the teen rolled away.

His opponent didn’t get up. Not that he had time to savour the victory before he had to roll away again, now dodging a hail of bullets.

“I’ll be done before they can reach me. Seven down, five to go and all progress on the machine is halted. I believe they intended to connect it to the power grid, those cables are now severed.”

The easiest way to make sure whatever the thing was remained inert. He wouldn’t have a chance to examine past the smooth silver casing until these fools accepted the inevitable and went down.

Knowing Riddler, at least one side would contain a touch screen with some insipid riddle that a dedicated toddler could solve.

Pass. If the man wanted a battle of wits with the bats, he would need to arm himself first.

And teach his men not to shoot at his own machines.

Taking cover briefly behind the case, Robin took a moment to assess the room. The remaining goons had all taken cover, and spread out too.

Inconvenient.

Almost worse than Red Robin’s patronising tones.

“Start the clock then Robin. Spoiler, see if you can’t prove him wrong. Signal?”

Signal sighed, rolling out his shoulders and flexing his shadows. They called him out of bed, then left him running around outside while they had all the fun.

“Area’s clear. If Two Face was planning something he’s scrapped it now. I found some skid marks but no clear tire prints.”

He dropped a pin on the location anyway; he or Oracle could check traffic cameras for the area later. Right now Bluebird was putting Oracle through her paces with a major chase across the city.

One day he’d kind of like to do a car chase. Changing the traffic lights, skidding round corners, running the bad guys down. That’d be cool.

He brightened up suddenly, remembering the agenda for tonight.

“Hey, want me to come in and get your civvies to safety RR?” If Nightwing was busy with goons…

“Not needed bud, sorry!” Nightwing called happily, dropping down from a pillar in front of the last gunman standing and kicking his gun away, jabbing Manson’s taser into his chest.

The guy jolted in a very satisfying way, interesting sparks sizzling across his skin. His escrima sticks wouldn’t do that.

And he finally got close enough to use it. With all the goons focused on him, it had been easy for Red Robin to take them by surprise.

A set of batarangs from behind, a couple bolas, and the only guns around were on the floor.

Which meant that all they had to worry about now was the three goons wrestling Jason, and Killer Croc himself.

Nightwing was kinda hoping he’d get the chance to take care of Croc. Their normal tasers didn’t work as well on his scaled skin, but they eventually got the point across.

This thing? Maybe he’d need to borrow it.

As Dick. Better make sure Manson didn’t see him using it in costume.

Which also meant not using it on Croc. Sighing to himself, Nightwing stuffed it back into a belt pouch and turned to survey the room.

At least all their remaining bad guys were now clumped together, up at the stage. Two of the goons were bleeding now, one from a broken nose and the other…

Fuck, did Jason bite a guy? Maybe he should have been watching that side of the action.

Any musing quickly shut itself down as Croc surveyed the room, bomb vest in one hand and Bruce Wayne in the other.

By the front of his shirt, not his neck, but then Bruce wouldn’t have put up a fight. Nightwing’s gaze immediately darted around, searching for the danger twink.

He’d focused on taking down the goons on the way to the kid because the opportunity arose, but he had this feeling that Danny Fenton was someone you always wanted an eye on.

“Fuckin’ useless,” Croc growled, scanning the room quickly and shaking his head. He might as well have come alone.

The last three of Riddler’s goons, still all needed to keep a struggling Jason restrained, were growing increasingly nervous.

The gunfire should have drawn the others in. At the very least someone should have called. And now they’d lost contact with Riddler too.

Danny was quite enjoying their confusion, the tablet now safely tucked in under his shirt. Whatever opinions Riddler might have about his bellybutton were his alone.

An eerie silence fell now that the gunfire had stopped, the hall that had once been buzzing with conversation now holding its breath.

Nightwing and Red Robin were both there, moving slowly, cautiously towards the stage. Having seen the Wayne family’s heights, Danny was gonna start playing guess the bat.

Red Robin? Had to be Tim. Too tall for Damian, too short for Dick, and coincidentally Nightwing was a good bit taller than Red Robin too.

The dominos made the faces harder to recognise but the way they exchanged a glance, still wary of approaching too closely? That was very familiar.

Danny just hoped that Bruce had managed to do something with the damn vest in those few seconds while he��d distracted Killer Croc.

It was now waaaay too close to Jason for Danny’s liking, even if the odds of getting it actually on him were pretty near zero. Not unless Croc dropped Bruce anyway.

He really didn’t wanna have to ectoblast anyone. That’d be a real awkward conversation, and even Jason didn’t know the extent of his powers yet. He deserved the chance to find out first.

Croc seemed to have come to the same conclusion about the vest though, because he held up his hostage in one hand and brought the vest closer to Bruce instead.

“Right, you two back off or the lot of us go up, alright?” He growled, visibly annoyed by the turn of events.

Danny had to guess he’d expected they’d have a little longer before a full bat attack. Hell, maybe the bats usually waited until setup finished.

There was no way to be sure. There was just so much cat and mouse in Gotham, so much emphasis on plans and backups and understanding.

Danny simply could not. He would just die (again) if he had to sit around and wait to see what his rogues were doing before they struck.

Luckily, they seemed to feel the same, because usually they barrelled out of the portal and made a beeline for him, their goal, or both. There might be plotting in the zone, but that was never Danny’s problem.

Fucking Vlad was the notable exception, and Danny was delighted to see that the man was visibly fuming. Arms folded, scowly pout, like he’d just had his own plot foiled.

Whether because Danny very pointedly had not rescued him or the bats had shown up, Danny neither knew nor cared. It did wonders for his mood.

That and the ongoing warmth from Jason, who seemed to be trying not to laugh. Danny picked out a momentary regret that they hadn’t had time for Sam to get herself “captured” for the bit.

There was still time.

Nightwing and Red Robin had stopped in their advance, apparently to reason with Croc. Apparently his scales were not actually explosion proof, which made his last bid for control a little desperate.

Danny wasn’t actually listening, looking around hurriedly til he caught Sam’s eye. As a liminal she couldn’t quite hit the same intricacies of empathic messaging, but it didn’t matter.

They’d known each other long enough, through enough, that all it took was a look. A suggestive waggle of his brows.

Sam grinned back, hand diving into her hidden pockets again. She had something fun. Now all they needed was a distraction.

Or just an opportunity.

Quietly, innocuously, he scooched himself around behind Croc and readied to spring.

Vlad was aware that it was beneath his dignity to sulk. However, he was currently in the ass end of New Jersey, at a shoddy gala with people who were perfectly happy with armed criminals, but not an ill timed comment.

If they wished to shun him like school children, he would allow himself a brief sulk. Even in their little group on the floor, they had contrived to separate themselves from him.

All the better.

These reprehensible fools had apparently attacked the gala without any sort of plan, provided no challenge to a pair of almost-children in masks, and achieved nothing.

Daniel hadn’t even bothered changing to deal with the big one. Just jumped on him like some sort of animal.

The fact that it had worked only made matters worse.

It wasn’t that Vlad wanted to be the blushing heroine of a trashy novel. He hadn’t intended to fall into Daniel’s arms, or anything of the sort.

Even if Daniel was an adult now, Vlad thought of him as a son. And perhaps that was all he’d hoped for… recognition of the bond between them.

It was perfectly fair that Daniel had suspected his involvement, no matter how long it had been since Vlad had inconvenienced him with a harebrained scheme. He was well aware he’d earned his reputation.

But it would have been nice if the boy had cared. Had been even remotely concerned once he knew Vlad was innocent.

But no. The second he knew Vlad wasn’t involved, it was like he didn’t exist. Just left him to the mercies of the goons and these bats.

Vlad might be reasonably bullet proof but that didn’t mean his feelings were.

If Bruce Wayne got himself killed he would raze this city to the ground.

All of the bats had tensed when Killer Croc’s demands came over the comms. Red Robin flicked open a secondary channel for them, a single murmured message coming through.

“Backup in the dining hall. Croc has Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, and a bomb.”

Even the usual flow of argument and commentary was put on hold.

The remaining goons had been restrained. With Red Robin’s intel, Batwoman was on her way to where Riddler had been broadcasting from.

Whether he’d still be there or have cut his losses, no one knew. The video call was still open but not doing much.

“We didn’t even get a riddle,” Spoiler grumbled, and Black Bat half smiled behind her mask.

She was back above the dining room, creeping through towards the chandelier’s maintenance hatch. Spoiler had left it open behind her, and it was a simple matter to find herself an overhead perch without being spotted.

Nightwing was mainlining the negotiation, his comms still open for the rest of the bats to hear how talking Killer Croc down was going.

Spoiler alert (a phrase she’d heard from Tim and would be keeping forever): not well. Croc might not be bomb proof, but he also knew they weren’t going to risk the explosion.

What they needed was an opportunity. Something to distract him enough that one of them could get close enough to strike.

While Croc held the cards, the three goons still struggling to restrain Jason were looking into the shadows erratically enough to make it hard for her to get close.

They didn’t seem to like the vest being waved around either, but they probably weren’t going to break ranks. More’s the pity.

But Jason wouldn’t be able to act directly anyway. Although… Danny had already tackled Croc once.

Her gaze darted around, looking for where the kid had gone now. Croc had tossed him, and… and he was coming back for more.

Yeah, she liked him. And he was significantly closer to Croc than the rest of them could get, while being mostly overlooked.

She had to guess he wasn’t an active vigilante anymore, or he didn’t worry about a secret identity. Vlad looked more sullen than surprised by what had happened, so she’d guess he already knew.

And if Danny’s evil billionaire knew who he was that could explain his complete lack of caution. Something to ask about later, anyway. For now she tapped her comm.

“Above. Danger Twink is in position behind.”

Neither Nightwing nor Red Robin could respond verbally, not with Killer Croc’s attention wholly focused on them, but she could see Nightwing’s lips twitch. He inclined his head slightly, hand folding and flexing into a brief ‘yes’.

Confirmed. He had noticed Danny creeping up as well.

“Distraction?” She asked softly, shifting about on her perch. She couldn’t get down any lower without giving herself away. They would have too much time to react from this height.

She could swing down in a blaze of glory and give someone else a chance to strike.

Before either of her older brothers could respond, Signal tapped in and she saw an unnatural flicker of shadows at a window. Left of Killer Croc’s position, from Nightwing and Red Robin’s perspective.

“Uh… guys, I’m in position outside the window, but something’s fucked. Robin, you sure that machine didn’t activate?” He sounded tense, and Black Bat tensed along with him.

Had they all missed something? Or were they inside the machine’s effects?

Robin only sounded annoyed though, a dull thudding accompanying his voice.

“I am currently sat on the machine while Spoiler restrains the last fool. It has no power, is producing no detectable energy or wave, and the screen is blank.”

He’d probably kicked it to make the noise.

Black Bat’s brows furrowed. Too many questions. And not only hers; for once Spoiler was all business, even if her voice was a little strained.

“Describe what you’re seeing, Signal. We know there’s one potential villain in the building beyond our rogues, and Two Face may have left an early surprise.”

Signal still sounded worried, and she couldn’t quite make out where he’d gone. Not good.

“That’s actually kinda the problem… I didn’t notice til I came to the window, but I can’t see a thing inside. It’s just blinding light like I’m staring into the sun, and I can’t do a thing with it. Lemme try something else…”

The shadows just inside the windows began to shift and Black Bat hissed, tapping her comm again. It was nothing the others should notice yet, but Croc might catch it from the corner of his eye.

“Signal, stop. Shadows moving, Croc directly ahead, may see.”

The shadows stilled at once, Signal’s sigh of relief a little odd in contrast, but she figured she understood. At least his abilities still worked inside the hall.

But what would be blocking his vision?

“Could this be a Signal-specific countermeasure?” Spoiler asked tensely. It sounded like she was on the move again. Probably Robin too.

“Or it is Fenton,” Robin put in darkly, confirming Black Bat’s suspicions a second later, “we are on our way.”

“Fenton?” Signal asked, sounding confused. “How would he be blocking me?”

“We do not know the extent of his meta abilities,” Robin explained tersely.

Spoiler’s eyeroll was easily audible. She had a gift that way, and usually it made Black Bat smile. Today, she was worried.

“First you thought he teleported, then we hear super strength, now light fuckery? What’s next? Laser eyes and flight? He’s not Kryptonian.”

“Probably,” Black Bat added, lips quirking just a little at her own joke. Spoiler at least chuckled, shaking her head.

“Look, what we need to decide is if we’re letting him take another run at Killer Croc before he takes the question out of our hands. Does anyone else have a way to get the bomb off him?”

A resounding silence answered, even Nightwing and Red Robin hesitating their negotiations. Croc was, if nothing else, stubborn.

He only wanted Harvey Dent. Not even a way out. Not that they’d have let him go, of course. Something had brought him back to town and they had to know what.

“Right.” Spoiler sounded firm now, and Black Bat settled. The easiest way to solve the mystery of Danny’s powers would be to ask him.

Privately.

Not tonight. All else being equal, Black Bat still thought he wasn’t a threat. He was a good kid, tough if he’d already gone a round with Killer Croc and wanted another.

Frowning down, she cocked her head slightly. Her perch was as close to above Croc as it could be, and she couldn’t quite see where Danny was looking.

“He is waiting for something. He needs a distraction,” she concluded, frowning down at tensely set muscles. Coiled to spring, just like her.

If the others were surprised she’d pulled full sentences out, it didn’t show. She could hear the smile in Spoiler’s voice.

“Then let’s give him one. Bat, Signal, bring the noise. Red, Nightwing, you’re on Danger Twink watch. Get in and get him out ASAP. Croc won’t go down easy, but we should be in to assist in five.”

“Tt. Three,” Robin corrected derisively and Spoiler snickered. Minor bickering aside, they switched easily as a unit from Red Robin’s command to hers.

It felt good to be a part of something. Something strong, but also something close.

“Black Bat, when you’re ready, count it down. Time to put that window practice into action, Signal,” Spoiler declared, and Black Bat sent two quick taps back.

An affirmative. One last scan of the hall, checking for anything else she might have missed, and she noticed that Sam was also tensed.

Further back than both Nightwing and Red Robin, she was far enough from the action to be safe. But what was she waiting for?

Probably the inevitable. It was that kind of night.

They’d had the “on three or three and then go” argument about a hundred times by now, and from Cass’s experience they’d had it every single time someone new joined the family.

Signal had had his, and currently they were settled on “on three”, so she shifted into a readied position and began the quiet count.

“One. Two. Three.” And she dropped.

Glass shattered. A third bat dropped from the ceiling, a descending mass of black as the bright yellow form of Signal burst into the room.

Croc roared at both, grip tightening on the bomb vest.

Samantha Manson rose like an avenging angel, leapt from the middle of her group, and threw a large and heavy thermos directly at…

Well. She might have been throwing it at Killer Croc. But she definitely hit Bruce Wayne square in the head as the big guy pulled him in.

The thermos clunked off his skull, pinwheeling away and for a heartbeat Nightwing was a little disappointed. And then it landed perfectly in a familiar hand and Danny whacked Killer Croc upside the head with it.

He didn’t have the same momentum as his first leap, didn’t take the guy all the way to the ground with him, but he put everything he had into that strike.

And landed like a koala, clinging to his shoulders, which definitely also helped as Killer Croc stumbled forwards, his grip weakening.

Bruce fell away and Nightwing spent a moment feeling kinda bad for the guy. That thermos must have been solidly built, there wasn’t a dent on it as Danny gave Killer Croc another resounding smack.

Nightwing and Red Robin were already moving in even as shadows sprang up around the three goons holding Jason. They went down together, Jason struggling free.

His eyes snapped to Nightwing’s, past him, and then suddenly he was charging. For half a second Dick held his breath.

No green in his eyes. It was just Jason.

And then he was past and Nightwing swore, spinning as Black Bat and Red Robin joined the fight with Killer Croc.

Jason had seen something, and might need backup.

The urge to laugh very nearly had him breaking character. But these were civilians; he had to pretend to be concerned.

Sam had fucking landed on one of Riddler’s goons. Not one of the ones he’d tied down already, and an almost unconscious hand had grabbed her ankle. Probably just a reflex.

It was probably the irritation at being benched that had Jason stamping firmly down on that wrist as he snatched Sam into the air. The hand nearly fell away on its own.

The long folds of her dress draped around him, covering him in purple bows as well, and the crowd audibly gasped.

Nightwing took a quick glance back at the Croc fight. Signal had Jason’s three former goons covered, and Black Bat and Red Robin had joined Danny with Killer Croc.

Red Robin was trying to coax Danny back out of the fight to give Black Bat a little more freedom to move, but the kid looked like he was having fun.

The heavy hits and numbers were beginning to tell on Croc too, along with the loss of his leverage. He was slowing, his swipes less aggressive and while his teeth were bared, he wasn’t biting.

It wouldn’t be long til he gave it up. It’d be hard enough to get away with only two bats on his tail, if Spoiler and Robin arrived he wouldn’t have a chance.

Whether he knew they were there or not, he was clearly considering it, head beginning to tick towards the window.

Nightwing took it all in in a split second, and headed after Jason.

“Going for the civilians, you guys good if I start on wrap up?” He called, skidding to a stop on his knees and cuffing the softly whimpering goon.

Red Robin gave him a stream of invective that probably meant “no you fuck get back here”, but Killer Croc caught him just below the gut and tossed him backwards.

Putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder, Nightwing turned him quickly and pushed him towards the wall.

“Stay away from the downed bodies and take cover,” he ordered and Jason’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he nodded.

Yeah, he’d hear about that later. Worth it.

And it meant Jason got to princess carry a conspicuously unprotesting Sam, which could only be a good thing.

Turning back to the fight, Nightwing rolled his shoulders and grinned. Looked like Croc was still giving them the runaround. And Danny was still in the thick of things. Still on Croc’s shoulders.

Signal had finished gift wrapping his thugs and seemed torn between trying to help and keeping out of range. Maybe he was still having trouble seeing.

“So, do you guys need me over there? Cuz I saw a table of champagne glasses in the other room that weren’t tipped over and I could use a drink,” Nightwing teased, watching Signal’s lips tug into a reluctant grin.

Red Robin managed to flip him off, ducking under another strike.

“If you’re on fucking civilian duty come and get this fucking civilian,” he yelled, not even bothering with the comms anymore.

“Hey, I’m fine!” Danny protested loudly, hooking a foot into Croc’s elbow to pull a swing short, making the big guy swear loudly.

“Yer all fuckin’ annoying,” Croc growled, making another reach back with his other arm to try and dislodge Danny. Who ducked down, but didn’t lose his grip.

Black Bat took advantage of the opening to close in low, striking several pressure points across Killer Croc’s chest and forcing him to take a step back.

Behind Nightwing, the doors burst open to admit Spoiler and Robin. Croc hesitated again, then sighed and sat heavily on the ground.

“You’ll have fuckin’ scared him off now,” he grumbled as Red Robin and Black Bat shifted warily to flank him.

Pretty sure Two Face woulda been scared off before the broken windows, Nightwing sauntered casually over and helped Danny off Croc’s shoulders.

“Civilian acquired,” he told Red Robin cheerfully, grinning wider as the younger vigilante groaned.

Danny grinned back up at him, looking around.

“Thanks for the assist, Nightwing, I don’t know what we’d ever have done without you,” he cooed, and Black Bat snickered.

Robin and Spoiler were making their way through the felled goons, tying up any that had just been knocked out and beginning to drag them to a pile in front of the stage.

The remaining hostages, guests and staff combined were getting to their feet now, beginning to chatter amongst themselves again.

Spoiler made it a point to collect the pillowcases of valuables, lest someone try and reclaim something that didn’t belong to them.

It was almost routine at this point and Nightwing felt his shoulders settling as a gentle buzz of conversation filled the room once more. Beside him, Danny stretched.

“Anyway, did anyone see where my date went?” He asked brightly, looking around the hall.

A light went on in Nightwing’s head. This… would be essentially the perfect moment for closet time.

Glancing around, he caught sight of Jason and Sam, about where he’d left them. He pointed Danny their way and gave him a gentle nudge.

“Back in the corner there. She looks fine,” he added innocently, aware of the not so subtle eavesdroppers to their conversation.

Danny grinned up at him and headed off in that direction with a cheerful wave.

“Better check anyway. You never know.”

“Hey, wait!” Spoiler called, jogging up to join them with a frown on her face, “You should get checked for injuries!”

Danny sped up if anything, waving to her too.

“Nah I’m fine, not a scratch!” Which might well be a fucking lie, but Nightwing was willing to let that wait for now, tucking Spoiler in close.

“Pretty sure Jason’s about to give him a pretty thorough once over in a closet,” he whispered, and was a little surprised when she just rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, and he’s not supposed to know we know that,” she whispered back but let it drop.

Unable to argue with the indisputable truth of that, Nightwing shrugged and turned back towards Signal.

“At least a couple of us should be out of uniform anyway, so we aren’t missed,” he subvocalised over comms. He got three taps back, and saw Black Bat melt away.

Fuck.

“Tell Sam I found you,” he added in a hiss, keeping the smile on his face. He didn’t need to test out the big taser personally.

Another tap and he was at Signal’s side, announcing himself with a gentle hand on the younger vigilante’s shoulder. He still seemed a little disoriented.

“You okay kid?” He asked quietly, frowning as Signal shook himself. Maybe it was for the best that he hadn’t been directly tangling with a rogue.

He gave Nightwing a slightly sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I’m just still kinda seeing stars… it got a little better now that I’m inside, but it still feels like someone turned the brightness up on my eyeballs.”

Nightwing made a face, giving him a careful pat on the back. That did not sound fun.

“Do you have any better idea what’s causing it?” He asked hopefully, glancing around. The broken windows meant it probably wasn’t something that had been done to the glass, but didn’t narrow things down much.

“Tt. It is obviously the presence of the other meta,” Robin cut in impatiently, arms folded as he glared up at them.

Nightwing glanced down, shifting automatically to give him space to join them. As much as Damian loved to sneak around, the others had kinda gotten used to it.

Overexposure. That’s why Dick usually telegraphed his presence as loudly as possible; it made people more likely to think quiet meant he wasn’t there.

Signal frowned, head tilting as he looked around the room. Even with his eyes hidden behind the domino, Nightwing figured he was checking for brighter spots.

“Maybe? But I haven’t seen anything like it before. It’s not coming from any specific person,” he explained slowly, scanning all the guests.

Paused, brows furrowing further. But Nightwing had an idea, tossing an arm around his shoulders.

“Hey, stick around for the turnover to the cops and we’ll see if we can’t get you a chance to talk to the kid in person. Give you a chance for a better read.”

Signal hesitated a moment longer, then nodded, shifting his focus to the two of them.

“Yeah, probably a good idea…” his voice trailed off and he shook his head a couple times, then raised a hand to rub at his temples. “Alright, that’s really fucking weird. It’s just gone.”

Something tickled up the back of Nightwing’s spine and he did his own quick sharp scan of the room. Jason and Danny were gone.

“Y’know, after all this excitement someone might be tempted to call the rest of the gala quiet,” Jason remarked with a soft chuckle, following Danny from the dining room to the main hall.

Danny shot him a wicked grin over one shoulder other hand checking a likely door.

“Why, were you hoping for a quiet night?” He teased and Jason grinned, shaking his head.

“And miss Sam’s well earned explosion? No fuckin’ way. Hang on, there’s a closet a little further down that’ll be a little easier to get discovered in,” he said quickly, pulling ahead to lead Danny to another, more obvious door that was visible from the main hall.

“Oh, do the others have their party clothes hidden in the other one?“ Danny asked with a smirk, clearly enjoying the way Jason’s step stuttered for a moment.

It was Jason’s turn to look back, a long, slow look was much more calculating. Assessing. Danny just shrugged.

“I’m not saying anything to anyone. Wild coincidence how many of your siblings have been touched by death though. Almost as many as the Gotham vigilantes.”

He might not have guessed by that alone-alone (Gotham was a dangerous city), but it wasn’t like Jason would know to call him on it. This might be his Robin reveal biting him in the ass.

Still, it wasn’t like Danny wouldn’t meet Bruce and Batman eventually. His family were nosey shits - tonight proved that. Better that Danny knew what he was dealing with.

Stomping the part of him that felt bad firmly down, Jason tugged Danny into a broom closet barely big enough to hold them.

Not like the bats would feel bad about sticking their noses in, and it’s not like he’d told Danny. Danny worked it out himself.

Not like they’d have had a chance in hell of hiding it if the Ghost King really could sense everyone who’d died. It wasn’t gonna be the biggest news on any day of the week that involved Danny.

Danny was still watching him, the faintest brush of amused-concerned-we good? sliding across his senses. Jason snickered and reached out to ruffle his hair.

“Yeah, there’s probably at least one set of party clothes back there. But they’re not the ones we want walking in on us, right?” He asked, pulling the door carefully almost shut behind them.

Danny settled, grin broadening again as he reached up to ruffle Jason’s hair back.

“Not that I don’t think they’re dramatic enough, but it’s way less suspicious if we’re exposed to all and sundry,” he agreed with a much too charming wink, and set about unbuttoning his shirt.

Jason hesitated for the barest second more, calculating again… but this time for a much better reason. His own little imp of mischief raised its head.

“Think anyone would notice if we swapped ties?” He asked with a sudden grin, tugging his blue tie loose. Loved the way Danny’s face lit up with manic glee as he tugged his own off and tossed it over.

“They’re not the exact same colour but close enough if we were “distracted”,” he agreed with a cackle, taking Jason’s tie and stuffing it into his jacket pocket.

Jason hooked Danny’s over a mop and began working at his own buttons. Stopped. He could undo them nice and neat. He could also…

He wasn’t against flashing a little skin for the rest of the evening.

Taking both sides of the shirt in hand, he yanked hard enough that Danny had to dodge a button shooting out at him. And abandon his own undressing to clap both hands over his mouth against laughter.

“Did you just fucking rip your shirt open like a caveman?!” He hissed in delighted glee once the giggles subsided. Jason smirked, completely sure the impressed look in his eyes was real.

Nothing else there to see, right?

“Not according to anyone else at this party, there’s not a soul in that room that won’t believe you ripped it off me after that display,” he pointed out smugly, and Danny had to stifle a cackle by shoving most of his fist in his mouth.

It felt good to be actively doing something after being sidelined for the entire attack. Good to see any traces of that worry, of that all too familiar burning rage in Danny’s face.

No one else should ever have to feel like that. Not for Jason.

Now, laughing until he couldn’t breathe and had to sag against Jason’s chest for support? That he was extremely comfortable with.

Steadying his shaking king, Jason hummed thoughtfully and ran his hands through Danny’s hair a few more times. It was already wild and unruly, so the step from there to sex hair wasn’t all that far.

Danny gave him a gentle jab with his elbow before straightening, tugging his own shirt open with nary a care for the last two buttons. Then he paused, reaching for his belt.

“So how far are you comfortable with this going?” He asked innocently, too innocently. In that sweet, butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth tone Jason had already learned to suspect.

If Jason Todd had one weakness, he’d never backed down from a dare in his life. Why start now.

“I’ve never seen anyone arrested at a gala for indecent exposure,” he replied in his own best innocent voice, the one used when Bruce caught him hiding the bodies.

Danny snickered and pulled his belt off, kicking his trousers… yep, all the way down and off his legs, and in case any of his nosey bastard siblings were curious the boxers or briefs question was answered.

Not that any of them would be surprised, given the cut of Danny’s pants. Briefs today at least, but Jason very deliberately was not going to speculate.

“You don’t have to match,” Danny assured him quickly, still grinning as he picked up his pants to hang them artfully over an upturned bucket, “can’t have the man of the hour kicked out of his own party.”

Suddenly the closet felt a lot smaller. A lot warmer. A lot harder to breathe. Because. Yeah. That’s what they were doing.

They were staging a fucking sex scene, on their third hangout in their lives, and Danny had fucking said that.

Even the heady knot of tension suddenly in Jason’s gut couldn’t stand a chance against the wave of snickering.

It gave him a moment of distance, to catch his breath and remember why they were doing this, and tug his own belt open. Unbutton his pants, mind very firmly fixed on Bruce’s reaction.

“Danny, never fucking say that to me again unless you want me to streak through this hall,” he said as seriously as he could, loving the way Danny’s eyes darted down and then back up to his face.

He would love absolutely nothing more than to get kicked out of his own party… any night but tonight. Tonight, he had no fucking intention of missing out on Sam going nuclear.

Snickering to himself, Danny nodded and took a moment to survey his own state of deshabille.

“Noted. Oh, and there’s this one trick Sam taught me to make it look like we’ve actually been making out,” he added quickly, grinning up at Jason.

Whose cheeks just might have pinked a little bit with the suggestion, gaze tracking straight down to Danny’s lips for reasons which had nothing to do with a trick.

What would Danny taste like? Could he taste sarcasm and bad puns?

Danny didn’t seem to notice, biting down on his lower lip and letting it drag out slowly between his teeth. If Jason was a stronger man he’d have looked away, but just…

Watching that soft, pink lower lip beginning to redden and flush at the pressure, and holy fuck it did look almost kiss swollen. Jason bit down on his own lower lip without meaning to, pushing down a longing sigh.

Startled when Danny snickered and reached up to poke just below his lip.

“You’ve gotta pull it through too, you can’t just bite it,” he teased gently, bringing Jason back to what they were actually doing.

And, fuck it, being a little flushed would help the illusion. He obediently pulled his lower lip free, slowly and with just enough pressure to get it really red.

Danny’s eyes, already on his mouth, lingered for a moment, and Jason did it again just to see his reaction. Were his cheeks pinking up too?

And then the absurdity set in, and Jason snickered too.

They were fucking stood almost chest to chest in a closet, the rising hum of conversation behind them indicating the hall filling up, biting their own lips.

What was his fucking life?

He bit down on his upper lip a couple times too, and that pretty much broke Danny into silent giggles. Jason flipped him off, grinning back.

“Fuck you, you’ve gotta do both it’s not like you only make out with your lower lip,” he hissed and Danny’s shoulders shook, but he was clearly convinced because he did it too.

And yeah, that wasn’t nearly as sexy to watch. Just funny, bringing back the reality of what they were doing. What they wanted.

It definitely worked. Danny looked thoroughly debauched now, hair tousled, lips red and kiss stained and wet where he poked his tongue out to wet them, clothes tugged all over the place.

Jason tried to ignore it, to focus on the logistics. If they wanted a convincing sex scene… if Danny bent over Jason wouldn’t have to see that pretty face anymore, but nor would anyone else.

And there really wasn’t room in the closet. Danny must have twigged to the problem too because he snapped his own eyes from Jason’s face and frowned around their tiny space.

And yeah, he was definitely a little redder. Probably on purpose. Completing the illusion. For sure.

Then he looked back at Jason and grinned.

“I have an idea, but it’s gonna make some noise. You about ready to be discovered?” He asked, waggling his eyebrows lasciviously.

Jason snickered, glancing back towards the door for a moment then nodding. He had an idea by now. Danny seemed to have a preferred move.

“Yeah, I’m good. Do I need to catch you?”

And this smile was one he hadn’t really seen before, soft and fond and filled with undeniable warmth.

“You fuckin’ get me Jason,” Danny sighed happily, then jumped up and locked his legs around Jason’s waist. Kicked a bucket on the way up.

Jason’s hands flew to catch him automatically, and yup, he definitely had two handfuls of Danny’s ass. Only briefs keeping it from being skin to skin.

But this was the goddamn plan, Jason reminded himself, finally having to look up into Danny’s face. Felt better when he saw that Danny was blushing too, and staring.

Yeah, they were both in it now.

Jason did his best to keep his hands as professional as possible while holding Danny’s butt.

“This okay?” He asked a little belatedly. Danny visibly snapped himself back, shuffled a bit in Jason’s grip, and grinned again.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna drop me,” he agreed, draping his arms over Jason’s shoulders. Squeezed a little tighter, pulling in until their mouths almost touched, and hissed, “door.”

Jason almost turned, almost tensed, and forced himself not to as the door pushed open. Breathing heavily was not difficult, but made it harder to hear…

The door had stopped moving. A heartbeat of silence, Danny and Jason suddenly realized they should be moving, and then a very familiar chuckle.

“Oh, is it that time already?” Selina purred, her body blocking most of the light from the hall. She surveyed their positioning in a flash, nodded. “Stuff your fingers in his mouth, Jason darling, you might as well pretend you’re doing a good job.”

Jason barely had time to move, hand coming up automatically and conveniently cutting off Danny’s snort of laughter. And Selina screamed and spun away, “accidentally” pushing the door open wider.

They weren’t quite exposed to the whole hall, but the angle was clear enough for more than a dozen guests to look in.

A few more drifted over as Jason swore loudly, twisting to grab for the door and “accidentally” show off a little more of their tableau, pushing it closed.

He let Danny drop down after the door was shut, the smaller man’s shoulders once again shaking with laughter. Jason grinned down at him, tugging his shirt back into place.

“So do we let them think I’m finishing you off or just get back out there?” He whispered over a renewed and much louder buzz of conversation.

And much closer. Someone else might come for a look.

Letting Sam walk in on them directly was real fucking tempting.

But Danny shook his head, still snickering as he pulled his shirt closed too.

“Better get back out there, I don’t want to miss any of the fireworks. As much fun as “finishing it off” would be,” he added with a snicker, pulling out Jason’s tie and fastening it sloppily around his neck, “I should go grovel.”

“We should,” Jason agreed with a snicker and nodded, doing up the buttons he had left. He didn’t want to miss the show either.

Danny paused though, looking around their closet as Jason tied Danny’s tie on, settling his jacket and closing his pants.

“Jason…” There was something a little strange in Danny’s voice now, something that made Jason frown as he turned back.

“What? Shouldn’t you be dressed?” He asked, and Danny shook his head, an awed grin spreading across his face.

“Yeah, about that. I think your step mom stole my pants?” He said it like he couldn’t quite believe it, which was fair, because Jason definitely didn’t believe he was hearing it.

“What?” He cast around quickly, and sure enough… Danny’s pants were nowhere to be seen.

Of fucking course she did. Why wouldn’t she.

“I didn’t really see her in the dining hall either,” Danny mused, something clearly dawning on him.

Something bright and wonderful and Jason really should worry a lot more about how Danny was putting things together.

“Jason…” Danny shook his head slowly, then grinned up at the taller man, eyes bright with laughter. “Is your step mom Catwoman? Legally you have to tell me or it’s entrapment.”

Snorting most of a laugh through his nose, Jason shook his head. If she didn’t want to be outed, she shouldn’t have stolen a man’s pants.

“Yeah, that was Catwoman,” he agreed, raising both his hands in surrender as Danny pointed menacingly at him. “I didn’t make her do it!”

Luckily Danny definitely saw the funny side too, snickering as he leaned back against one of the shelves. Was attacked by a bucket. Fought it to a standstill and gave up on shoving it back into place.

“You’re the one who has to go get me replacement pants!” He argued almost a full minute later, like there hadn’t been a pause.

If Jason hadn’t spent years not laughing at Dick’s bullshit on patrol… but no, he kept an excellent poker face thank you very much.

And Danny had a point.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed, turning back towards the closet door and wondering what kind of expression he should put on for the people outside.

Embarrassed? Danny’s pants were literally fucking missing. Hopefully they’d be just outside the door, but what if they weren’t?

If Jason had an imp of mischief in him, Selina had all of the Hells, complete with devils. She might have kept them.

Before it came up though, the door was pushed open again and Jason moved automatically to shield Danny from view. He might as well also pretend to be chivalrous.

But it was just Cass, back in her own suit and looking distinctly amused.

With Danny’s pants.

‘Found these,’ she signed, passing them over with her right hand. Stifling a snicker, Jason took them and nodded.

“Thanks Cass. We’ll be right out,” he told her, turning back to Danny as she closed the door.

Pressing his lips firmly together, Danny couldn’t quite hide a smile.

“Convenient.” He said shortly and Jason grinned. Tossed his pants at him.

“Hey, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. She probably robbed Selina to get them.”

Already pulling his pants back on, Danny frowned.

“Hey, she didn’t get my belt back…” Then he shrugged. “But Sam’s parents paid for it. So does that mean the Aunt Harley she said she texted…”

He trailed off suggestively, and Jason blinked, taking a second to track when the “she” shifted. Ah. Selina. He grinned.

“Yeah, she texted Harley Quinn. She’s sort of an unofficial member of the family now so even if Sam didn’t give him a concussion, Bruce may not survive the night,” he joked, then nodded to the door. “You ready?”

Danny took a moment to double check, tucking his shirt back in and straightening jacket and tie. Reached up to pat his hair and then obviously decided to leave it.

“Yeah, I’m good. Hey if anyone asks, do we tell them we finished?” He asked, clearly half joking.

Jason smirked, pulling the door open and slipping out.

“If they ask you, I did. If they ask me, you did.”

Still snickering, Danny followed him back into the limelight.

“Great.”

Pamela Manson was having the best gala of her life. Her dear little Sam had finally found herself a decent young man, from a good family, and they were getting along just swimmingly.

Oh, Sammy had fussed at first, she was always so loyal, but Pam could see her little girl warming up to young Jason.

It would have been best if they could have escaped notice during that tiresome rogue attack, but she hadn’t been able to reach her daughter before they were pulled into groups.

At least it didn’t seem to have put the boy off. He seemed to be quite the fighter too, it had taken three of those dull and muscly people to pull him around.

Perhaps he liked that Sam wasn’t the kind of girl who would sit around waiting for rescue. Oh, Pam would like that.

As much as she didn’t understand most of what Sammy said and did, Pam wanted her little girl to be happy. And while she still held out hope that this “goth” phase would end, Sam would never be a delicate flower.

All they needed was the kind of young man who could appreciate that, and maybe help guide her interests to something more acceptable than all those protests and demonstrations.

Yes, Jason Todd-Wayne might just be the best thing to ever happen to her family. Brucie was even Jewish too, and while no one had told her if Jason was (and the Mansons were hardly orthodox), it would be so nice not to have to explain all of their holidays.

They might even be able to hold the wedding in a synagogue.

Pamela wasn’t much of a traditionalist, not for the ones that weren’t a display of status at least, but she had quietly resigned herself to Sam having some courthouse wedding, or even eloping.

That awful Fenton boy would only encourage it. Honestly, she might have preferred if Sam had brought along that Valerie. Jason had plenty of attractive siblings and Val was clearly a social climber.

But now that Sam had met Jason…

Perhaps if Brucie could be persuaded, they could find somewhere nice out of Gotham and Amity Park both… but Sam did so love the gothic architecture. If it got her in a synagogue, Pam was prepared to compromise.

It wasn’t like a decent rabbi would marry her in some horrible black or spider covered gown. She would meet in the middle for her little girl’s happiness.

She was just looking around for Brucie again (poor man, he’d been through so much, perhaps a little motherly affection would do him some good too) when she heard someone scream.

Surely not another rogue already, the bats hadn’t even left yet?

Sam hated galas. Every single one, with a fiery burning passion. The fake smiles, empty headed aristocrats, and mind numbing conversation made her want to puke.

But her parents loved them. Were all about the image of “happy family perfection”, all about the fake smiles and lies. They loved images.

She could give them an image to hold onto forever.

She was being Conspicuously Alone by the quickly resurrected drinks table now, trying to persuade the bar staff to unionize. There was no way they were being paid enough for all these constant attacks.

They didn’t even get dental. Most of them weren’t even full time, AND they bought their own uniforms. It was a disgrace.

Danny and Jason had disappeared together, so really all she had to do was kill time and wait. Let people see her alone, let them wonder how long she’d been alone.

Her mom was off bothering Brucie again, probably already bartering for a spring wedding. Maybe apologizing for Sam hitting him with the thermos.

Sam wasn’t gonna. She regretted nothing. He was a manipulative asshole, and unlike his kids? She didn’t think it made it any better that he didn’t do it on purpose.

Some things didn’t have to be malicious to be shitty and hurtful, but people always made excuses like the intent should matter more than the impact.

That thought made her snicker a little. She’d made a little impact of her own. To his face, with her thermos.

Fuck that guy.

She hadn’t given a shit about him one way or another before tonight, not past him being yet another society himbo. Lucky he was cute and rich, because not much else was going on.

She’d never had much to do with his adopted brood either, although there she had changed her mind. Despite Dick being a cop, they’d been surprisingly down to earth.

Probably what came of having been adopted into society life rather than being born in. Sam could admit she had her share of annoying rich people problems.

Most of the Waynelets didn’t, at least not the more obvious signs, and it was refreshing. She’d finally had fun at one of these stupid events.

She’d always wondered if Cass had a lot more going on than her inability (refusal?) to talk made people think. It was why she’d learned ASL, but the opportunity had never come up.

They just didn’t go to many of the same galas. And if Sam ever had to go to any again, at least she’d have some backup.

She was a little surprised that they hadn’t found her by now, honestly, but maybe Tucker was keeping them away. If any of them wanted to argue about thermos percussion, she had time.

Then she heard the scream and a smile pulled across her face. She squashed it back down quickly, turning with the crowd to look for the source.

Stopped, frowning, when she saw Cass hurrying past with… an extra pair of pants? She was going the way Sam needed to anyway. Sam hurried to catch up, leaning in to whisper.

“Where did you get those?”

Cass gave her a very knowing look, nodding ahead to the wall they were making for. With a small and mostly inconspicuous door.

Sam almost tripped over her own feet and had to run a few paces to catch back up.

“How the fuck did his pants get out here?!” She hissed, fighting to keep the giggle out of her voice. Didn’t matter which “he”.

Cass chuckled softly under her breath, then signed a fancy S. It took Sam a moment to put it together, but the only other person they’d met today was…

“Selina?” Cass nodded again, pulling to a stop beside the door. Gesturing for Sam to take a step back.

They were right in the middle of everyone’s attention now, party guests who’d followed Sam to the noise stepping back and forming a ring with Cass and the closet at the center.

They weren’t as quiet as they thought they were about filling people in either, and Sam heard her own name more than once. They were waiting to see what she’d do.

Oh, she’d show them what she was gonna do.

The guests had been guided from the dining room once more, valuables redistributed under the watchful eye of the bats.

Most of the staff were cleared too, leaving just a few behind to start early on clean up. Whatever had been fucking with Signal had stopped, and now it was just Nightwing and Signal, waiting with Killer Croc til the cops arrived.

Well, not just them. Red Robin was having himself a little bit of a freak out, pacing the hall.

“It should be here! Where could it have gone! It didn’t have legs!” Yeah, he was also ranting to himself.

Nightwing and Signal exchanged looks. Did a quick rock-paper-scissors.

Some motherfucker had definitely told him that Nightwing always picked scissors. Unfair. Treachery. Betrayal.

He wandered over to Red Robin anyway.

“Whatcha lookin’ for, Red?” He asked casually and ignored the glare he got for it.

“Riddler’s tablet! O has the address and all the tracking information, but the tablet itself could still tell us something. None of the goons had it and I swear I searched everywhere!” He aimed a kick at a fallen plate, sending it spinning across the floor.

Nightwing stared at him for a long moment.

“You have the tracking information?” He asked gently. Maybe sleeping more was actually bad for Tim.

“Of course!” Red Robin grumbled, waving his wrist computer crankily, “Danny turned the VPN off and it hooked up to my bluetooth, it’s still pinging as being in the building but I can’t find it!”

Nightwing stared at him a moment longer, waiting for him to work it out. Red Robin narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed at being pulled from his search.

“What.”

“You have the tracking information,” Nightwing repeated patiently. Red Robin shoved both fists into his own hair and pulled, groaning.

“I swear to fucking god Wing I will kill you, WHAT.” Nope, he was clearly doing the genius-hyperfocus-spiral thing. Simple solutions had left the building.

Nightwing sighed and pulled up his own mini computer.

“Just use Find My IPhone. It’s specific enough to get within a meter, it’ll tell you if it’s in the room,” he explained when Red Robin was clearly actually considering murder.

It was Red Robin’s turn to stare at him. Then he groaned and scrubbed both hands down his face.

“I fucking hate you so much right now,” he grumbled, tapping at his wrist computer to open the website, “there’s no fucking way Riddler didn’t turn that… off…”

Nightwing didn’t actually have to look at his display. The glowing dot was clear on its own. Instead he draped an arm around the shorter man’s shoulders.

“Are you okay, kid? Usually you’re the one pointing this stuff out to us,” he asked quietly, holding on when Red tried to pull away.

Red Robin struggled for a moment anyway, then sighed and shook his head.

“I just… it’s still bothering me. I swear we had Riddler on the ropes last week, but his guys are busting up a gala tonight like nothing’s wrong? There’s no riddle, he didn’t even show himself, it’s just… this feels wrong. This isn’t how Nigma behaves, and I don’t like it.”

Nightwing pursed his lips, considering. The kid had a point, and it had been bugging him too.

“Wait til we work out what the machine Robin found is. If it’s a fancy unfolding arcade cabinet, maybe that’s where the missing pieces fit,” he offered gently.

Red Robin rolled his eyes, but didn’t try and push him away this time.

“Yeah, and if it isn’t? He was shipping in a lot of explosives for something, Nightwing. I thought we caught him early, but if that was just the tail end this could all be a big distraction for something much worse,” he argued, folding his arms.

“So we’ll see if Bluebird or Batwoman picks him up tonight, and if they don’t we’ll pay him a personal visit ourselves later in the week. He was pulling through Bludhaven, I’m not letting him off my turf either,” Nightwing added with a snicker.

It seemed to soothe some ruffled feathers, and Red Robin sighed, turning his attention back to the wrist computer.

“First we find that fucking tablet. Looks like it’s just outside the doors.” He headed off across the hall, that determination back in his stride.

Nightwing tipped Signal a wink and moved to follow, rolling out his shoulders. The sooner they got this sorted out, the sooner he could nip out of costume and rejoin the fun.

Red Robin threw the door open, revealing two of the staff and a bored looking Tucker Foley, leaning back against the wall and playing with… the Riddler’s fucking tablet.

When the door opened all three looked up, then Tucker grinned and waved.

“Oh, hi guys! They wouldn’t let me back in, but Danny gave this to me and I figured you guys would want it. There’s not much on it, but you guys probably have access to stuff I don’t, right?” He asked cheerfully, holding out the tablet like it was nothing.

Nightwing pressed his lips together very firmly, holding back a laugh through sheer will. Red Robin had been struck dumb, hand half extended in front of him.

Tucker pressed the tablet into it, waving cheerfully.

“Anyway, have fun with that, I gotta go, I don’t wanna miss the show.” And he just. Walked away. Back into the main hall.

Red Robin stared after the man for almost a minute, then turned to the tablet in his hands.

“Stardew,” he said weakly, and Nightwing frowned, turning to him.

“What?”

Red Robin turned the tablet around.

“He was playing Stardew Valley. On the Riddler’s tablet. The whole time.” His voice trailed off, staring after the Black man, and Nightwing shrugged and took the tablet.

Closing the game, he stopped and frowned, turning the screen. And sure, Tim was the family tech expert and Dick liked playing dumb, but he knew base code when he saw it.

He handed the tablet back to Red Robin.

“He was playing Stardew Valley on Riddler’s totally cracked, fully open tablet,” he corrected, snapping Red Robin’s attention back to the device.

Red scrolled through a couple of quick screens, tapped a couple of commands, then sagged back against the wall and groaned.

“How the fuck is he not already one of ours?” He asked with what Nightwing was almost going to call lust. Time to text Connor and warn him he might be getting a second boyfriend.

Glancing at the tablet again, Nightwing snickered.

As if Tim on his own wasn’t already more than enough.

Sudden yelling erupted from the depths of the hall, startling both vigilantes back into action. They were already moving before the probable cause sank in.

Nightwing groaned.

They were missing it. No time to change back now, they were going to miss it!

The costs of the vigilante lifestyle kept growing and growing.

———————

You have about a week to persuade me it’s funnier to write Sam’s explosion and use all these fun new words Pamela has for Danny like “harlot” and “strumpet” and “charalatan” than it is to just start the next chapter out of the gala and let it all happen offscreen.

Starting now 💖💖💖

Next Chapter:

#danny fenton dead and loving it #dp x dc #dpxdc #dead on main ship #danny vs killer croc #danny x jason #my ongoing curse: the desire to write good scenes vs the horrible gremlin need to cut off at the worst moment #but listen it all adds to the story #and red robin freaking out made me giggle #this one was nearly too long anyway #but so much fun #you can’t make me write combat if i switch away

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