portend
The (man)children were avoiding Bruce the moment Alfred flipped the calendar over, ripping the January page off the ream completely.
Cass had been coming home more often now, and had been sending him wary glances, which Bruce would have to admit were quite terrifying in their own ways.
Dick too, was dropping by more often. Always bringing a fruit basket with him, every couple weeks. Jason still hasn't shown up, but Bruce was alert at all times. He'd see him coming up on his radar sooner or later. And it's only been five days into February, nothing to worry about.
Yet.
Tim was hanging around him any chance he could get. Even at the office, he wouldn't leave Bruce out of his sight. If they were any normal people, he would have to be careful. But this was Tim, and he was the least dangerous teen he's met, if you were on his good side.
Bruce could never tell if Tim was mad at him, or anything else; his eyes were too sunken in with the bags under his eyes weighing them down for him to really know what he could be thinking, as he sips at his coffee, loudly slurping, successfully annoying the rest of the board members at every ungodly-scheduled meeting they would hold every other morning.
Damian, was in the general sense, being his normal self. He also had become more docile around Cass and Jason, which Bruce considered an accomplishment. He was also leading his pets to various rooms and sections of the manor every couple of hours. He doesn't forget to check both sides suspiciously, but he did forget that Bruce has installed surveillance cameras in every corner of the house, so he can still watch Damian tiptoe across the second floor, back sliding against one of the walls, closest to the master bedroom.
He was at lunch break, picking up a cherry tomato in his salad as he continues to watch Damian's dog, Titus, creep at his master's heels, as the boy also steps hastily across the hall, ducking behind a bookcase.
Tim had gone out to get more coffee and a bagel from the coffee shop he frequented just across the street. Bruce continues to watch in fascination as Damian tinkers with his wristwatch, before aiming it towards the hall, and presses a button on it. An item shoots out from it, so small that Bruce almost missed it. The item, that looked suspiciously like a bullet, falls onto the floor, and releases smoke.
From the microphone installed on the surveillance cameras, few sounds and dialogue can be picked up, depending on the distance from the camera. There was another one just above the smoke bomb from where it landed. It picks up a heavy thud, and Cass drops from the ceiling, unconscious from the smoke. Whatever sedative was in that bullet must have been strong enough to knock down an elephant if it knocked Cass out cold. He'd have to remember to ask Damian for it later when he gets home.
Damian comes out from where he was hiding and cautiously steps towards Cass. Bruce eagerly watches, sitting at the edge of his seat, waiting for the boy's next move.
The boy stands before the sleeping girl, looming over her figure, as he reaches a hand over to her head.
"Tag." The pre-teen's voice cracks over the microphone, before running away from Cass, heading down the hallway.
"What the hell." Bruce says to himself, putting down his fork, finally tearing his eyes from the security footage.
He wasn't sure why he had even decided to watch the live security footage at this point. Maybe he was trying to catch any of his kids off-guard? Catch them in the act of whatever preparations they were doing under his and Alfred's noses portending to a surprise birthday party for him?
Maybe.
And maybe Bruce regrets spending his lunch time watching his son play tag with his siblings, but maybe he didn't.