Smooth Criminal

"We're wearing the suits, Bruce."

Bruce nearly dropped the gauntlet he was holding, turning a terrifying glare on the person in the doorway.

Clark was standing in his red and blue supersuit, looking for all intents and purposes very serious. The image of a man in spandex trying to be stern almost made him lose it.

"I don't think we should wear the suits. Sorry."

"What, you want Bruce Wayne and some reporter walking in to settle this dispute?" Clark shook his head, entering the bedroom. He was using his "holier than thou" Superman voice, but Bruce knew better. "Even Aquaman is coming. You're telling me I have to tell him he can't wear his favorite ripped jeans and spiky armor...uh, thingies?"

"I really just want to get this over with as quickly as possible."

"Okay, think of it this way," Clark said, pointing at him. "It's harder to kill you with three inches of armor. Not impossible. Just much, much harder."

Bruce growled under his breath. "Fine."

"What was that? I didn't hear you."

"I said, fine, I'll wear the goddamned suit!"

Clark was watching him intently as he removed his shirt, then moved to unbuckle his belt. He coughed once, but the Kryptonian didn't seem to get the hint. "Clark."

"Huh?" the other man asked, ears turning pink. He looked up from Bruce's underwear and made a startled noise. "Oh my God. Sorry. I'll wait in the, uh-"

With a flash, the other man was gone. Bruce groaned and slipped out of his underwear. The Batman suit would take all of ten minutes to put on, but he needed time. He couldn't stall the Avengers forever-just long enough to grab Tim's lunchbox. But that was six hours from now...Maybe the Flash could-

"Will you be needing any assistance, Master Wayne? Perhaps a contraceptive?"

Bruce didn't even bother covering up. He felt the distinct urge to ram his head into a wall for the third time that day as the butler entered the room. "Can you fix my life, Alfred?"

"That, I believe, is beyond my help."

What were you expecting? Bruce sighed.

"Just don't tell the Robins I'm leaving. You lock them down, Alfred, so help me God."

"Hey, is that the Batmobile?"

Dick squinted, following Jason's pointed finger. He pressed his head against the window of his bedroom. "Yeah...I think it is."

"Bruce is going somewhere!" Jason crowed, "In daylight. Something is totally fucked up. You think it's the Joker again?"

"No," Dick said, "It's about that lunchbox, remember? Something about the Avengers, inter-league disputes, yada yada yada…"

"He got you with the lasso too?"

DIck turned a dark shade of red, face twisting. "He is so dead."

"After we follow him." Jason added. Dick nodded. "Any idea how to get past Alfred?"

"Not really. Damn."

Alfred's footsteps sounded down the hall, right on cue. "Was that conspiring I just heard, boys?"

Jason looked at Dick, who looked panicked. "Into the air vents. Now."

"We don't have air vents, this is a centuries-old mansion!" Dick hissed, both of them watching the door. The footsteps were getting closer. "Jason!"

"Just call me Jason Bourne, baby." Jason said as he pried open a ceiling tile, revealing a small air vent. He hoisted himself into it easily, clambering up into the vent. "Coming?"

"Boys!"

Dick took one last look at the door and jumped up, yanking himself into the small shaft. Alfred entered the room just as Jason replaced the ceiling tile. They were both stock-still. "This is all your fault if we get caught."

Jason smirked. "Yeah, but now you know about the secret escape route."

"Why does it go to my bedroom though? We're brothers, not, like-"

"Boys," Alfred said patiently below them. "I know about the air vents Master Jason had installed. Don't make me get the pellet gun."

Dick sighed and grabbed the ceiling tile, hanging out of the vent by his knees. An upside-down Alfred greeted him, looking especially frowny. "We're gonna go see what Bruce's up to. Pleeeeaaaasseee."

"I'm afraid I can't allow that," Alfred said, grave. "Master Bruce asked specifically that you did not go along."

"Oh, that means we're definitely going, buddy." Dick yelped as Jason grabbed him by the collar, hoisting him back into the vent. "Catch us if you can, Alfred!"

Clark took one last look at the assembled Justice League members, steeling himself for what was beyond the plated glass doors of Stark Tower. Bruce looked cool as a cucumber under his cowl, as did Diana. The rest of the group looked antsy.

"So, let me just get this straight one last time," Flash was saying. "You took the lunchbox from Hawkeye, and now they want it back. But you don't have it."

"I….know exactly where it is." Bruce said, hesitant. "It's safe."

"But they're gonna wanna see it!"

"You don't think I know that?"

"Look, everyone," Diana said, spreading her arms to calm the two. "Bruce messed up. We're all in agreement on that. However, since the return of the lunchbox is guaranteed, our goal should be to avoid group conflict and minimize the punishment meted out to Bruce."

"Hell, I don't know. You stole it, you suffer for it." Wally said snidely, getting a smack from Aquaman. "Okay. Whatever. Nevermind."

"Why are we here anyway?" Aquaman added, looking to Bruce. Clark could see the other man sigh and roll his eyes under the cowl, wondering how many times he'd done that in their company.

"The Avengers requested you," Bruce said stiffly. He turned towards the doors. "I have no idea why you came, though."

"Because we're a team," Diana said, placing a hand on Bruce's shoulder. She was met with a withering, trademark Batman glare and removed it a second later. "And also, maybe to laugh a little at the Avengers."

Clark clapped his hands together. "That's the spirit! Let's go!"

The group shuffled en masse to the elevators. On the way there, Bruce was giving him a strange look. "What?"

"Nothing." Bruce seemed to visibly straighten as the elevator rose. "If I die, tell Alfred where Dick and Jason's baby pictures are."

"You kept baby pictures?"

Bruce scoffed. "Of course I kept pictures. Those kids were damn cute."

"Welcome to Stark Tower," Stark's AI crooned as they reached the top floor. "Mr. Stark and the Avengers are waiting for you in the main conference room. Please follow the lighted pathway."

Clark looked at Bruce. "It's now or never."

"Fuck all of this," Bruce muttered, then took the step out of the elevator. "Fuck Tony, fuck that stupid lunchbox, fuck my life-"

Who knew Batman had such a potty mouth? Clark thought to himself, then smiled. Maybe this would be fun after all. "Sounds like you're nervous."

"Fuck you too, Clark."

Steve looked up the second he sensed movement, watching what had to be the Justice League marching down the hallway. At the front of the group was Batman, to his immediate left, Superman. Superman. He looked at Tony.

"That's way more people than you made it seem, Tony." He said under his breath, trying not to glare. "I thought you said the Justice League was barely even a group."

"They're not," Tony replied, looking around the table. Clint was silent, staring at his idol across the glass doors. Natasha, Bruce and Thor were looking at him for direction. "Alright, chins up everyone, this is it."

Superman and Batman entered first, followed by the remaining group members. Steve checked them off one by one-Diana, or Wonder Woman. The Flash. Green Lantern. Aquaman. Cyborg? They sat politely in the chairs that had been laid out for them, silent. Tony rose, clapping his hands together.

"I'd say welcome, but that would imply some of that good old fashioned courtesy, which I don't feel like extending to the criminal who joins us today." Tony said to the group, drawing a snort from Aquaman. Thor was staring at the other demigod, looking perplexed. "Director Fury couldn't join us today, so Maria Hill is taking his place. Say hi, Maria."

They turned to Maria's seat in the corner. The SHIELD agent didn't move, looking wholly unimpressed. Tony grunted and moved on.

"Today, we deliberate the culpability of one Bruce Wayne, cum Batman, in the theft of Clint's lunchbox. Clint?"

"I miss my lunchbox," Clint said, lower lip quivering. His eyes were wide as Natasha patted his arm. "I don't know why anyone would take it. I just want it back."

Tony stood, pointing towards the screen in the back half of the conference room. Surveillance footage shows a familiar person breaking into Clint's room and removing the lunchbox. Would anyone on the Justice League care to identify this person?"

"Eh, it sorta looks like a blob."

The Flash squinted. "Could be Nightmare again?"

"Nah, too small." Cyborg countered. "Hey, it could be Spiderman!"

"Evil Spiderman, though. You know, the one with the black costume?"

Tony pounded on the table. "Order!" If you guys aren't taking this seriously, there will be consequences!"

Everyone in the room stared at him, even Steve. Tony turned his attention to Batman, who was eerily still.

"And how does the defendant plead?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow, deadpan. "Amused."

"Are you sure this is the right floor?"

Dick kicked back at Jason, who dodged his foot gracefully. "Of course it's the right floor! It says the number in the air vent stickers!"

"Why didn't we sneak in through the elevator or something then?" Jason asked, jabbing at his sibling with his arm. In the small space of the shaft, Dick barely ducked in time to avoid the blow. "You think Stark would have a better filtration system. It smells like old people up here."

They continued down the shaft until Dick held a hand up. They stopped, voices from below drifting up. "Just a few more feet around this bend, and we'll be right over them."

"It smells terrible up here," Jason complained again, following his brother dutifully. Dick paused at the corner, muscles tensing. "What is it?"

Dick didn't respond, so Jason craned his neck over the other man's shoulder. Just a few feet down the shaft was another huddle figure, ear pressed to the grate. "What the fuck…"

"I think I found your old person," Dick said warily, hand going to his belt for a batarang, just in case. He gestured at the figure, raising his voice to just above a whisper. "Hey! Who the fuck are you?"

"Shut the fuck up. I'm trying to listen." The man said, turning to face them. He wore an eyepatch and a long leather duster, which couldn't be very conducive to vent-crawling. "Damn superheroes always running around and ruining shit for me, can't even get one fucking day where I can-"

Jason looked at Dick as the man broke off into incoherent muttering. They both shrugged at each other and scooted forward.

"Got any extra space, old man?"

"For two clowns in costumes?" The man's good eye fixed on them, his glare only rivaled by Bruce's. "You better get your asses out of my vent before I stuff a cap up them."

"We'll scream. Then they'll know you're up here." Jason threatened. The older man grit his teeth visibly, then scooted over just a fraction. "That's more like it, baby."

He and Dick hovered over the grate. He could just make out Bruce's cowl, but he could see from his jawline that things were about to get ugly. "Anyone bring popcorn?"

To their surprise, the older man pulled out a bag and threw it at them, still watching through his peephole. "Thanks, old man."

"Fuck you two."

Dick looked at Jason, who made a wtf face. "Fuck you…..too?"

"Mhmm."

He could tell Tony was pissed. Worse than that, Tony's star spangled boyfriend was pissed, which meant Bruce had crossed a moral line or two somewhere. All that progress to get Steve to only hate him a little, and here he was giving the man an excuse to hate him forever. Granted, if Tony had messed with the Justice League, he would've pulverized the other man, but this was over a lunch box. A fucking-

"Bruce, pay attention." Clark elbowed him, whispering. "They're about to ask you a question."

"Great."

"Now is not the time for sarcasm, Bruce!"

"Where is the lunchbox?" Tony asked, staring at Bruce. "If I don't see it within the next ten seconds, I'm going to-"

"It's in a secure location," Bruce said patiently, biting down on his irritation. "Pending the results of this meeting. Okay?"

"Bullshit," Tony said, crossing his arms. Black Widow looked unimpressed as well. Clint's lip was quivering even more, despite Banner giving him four benadryl tablets a few minutes ago. "Where is it, Wayne?"

"I told you. A secure location."

"Which is where?"

Bruce bristled slightly. "That's classified."

Tony opened his mouth to speak when Bruce's wristwatch sent out a warning signal. He looked down at the display and paled despite himself. "Clark."

Clark leaned over his shoulder to look at the watch, only to pale slightly himself. "How long until it goes off?"

"My sensors say ten minutes."

"I can fly it into space." Clark said quickly, ignoring the looks they were getting from the table. Bruce shook his head.

"It's over twenty megatons. You'll have fallout for weeks." He clenched his fists. "Take me to it. Now."

"Okay." Clark stood, moving out of the way so Bruce could get out. Tony waved at them, visibly frustrated.

"Where the hell do you think you're going? We're nowhere close to being done, Bruce!"

Bruce sighed, then ripped off his cowl. He pointed at Clint. "I'm sorry I took your lunchbox. It's safe right now. I'd also like to point out that three of you were on the way to steal it from him anyway. Don't make me the bad guy here. Also. Dirty bomb in Gotham I have to go defuse. Like, now. So punish me when I get back, okay?"

He turned to Clark, who grabbed him around the waist. "Don't get any ideas. No fucking loop de loops."

"Who, me?" Clark asked innocently, the tilt of his mouth betraying his worry. "Maybe just one."

"I'll put kryptonite in your hair gel. Do you really wanna look like Lex Luthor, Clark? I think you do."

Tony stood with his mouth hanging open as Superman burst through his glass windows, taking Batman with him. He turned to Steve, who looked similarly shocked. The remaining Justice League members, however, seemed unimpressed, eating the donuts Banner had set out before they'd arrived. "JARVIS, gimme a report on that dirty bomb."

"There appears to be a 20 megaton bomb in the central civilian area of Gotham, sir. Batman and Superman just arrived and are evacuating the area."

"Shit." He turned to Steve, who looked worried. "Gotham isn't our jurisdiction, but…"

"I'm sure he has it under control."

"You're just gonna let him die?"

"No!" Steve said, cheeks turning pink. "I just meant, he'll probably handle it, you know?"

"JARVIS, how long until detonation?"

"Eight minutes, sir."

Tony snapped his fingers at Thor. "I need a ride to Gotham City, pronto."

"I'm coming with you." Steve said, standing. Thor looked at both of them and shrugged, holding out his arms. Tony glared at his boyfriend.

"You better not get hurt."

Steve glared back. "Same goes for you."

The room fell silent as Thor disappeared out of the Superman-shaped hole in the window. Diana looked at Natasha. "Men."

"You're telling me." the assassin replied, kicking her feet up on the table. "At least we get some peace and quiet now."

The entire room startled as a pair of figures fell onto the conference table with a crash. The vent system above them bulged forward, a missing grate clanging onto the table after them.

Dick and Jason rolled off the conference table unceremoniously. Dick hopped to his feet, while Jason rolled into Natasha's lap. "Well, hello there."

Diana raised an eyebrow at Dick, who rolled his eyes. "Avengers, meet Robin and Nightwing."

"Motherfuckers."

Everyone looked up as Director Fury dropped out of the shaft, stepping onto the conference table with more grace than the previous occupants. "Director Fury? I thought you were in Africa?"

"Surprise." Fury said, jumping off the table. He looked at Dick and Jason. "You two better be glad the Bat's protecting you. That shaft would've been fine without your fat asses weighing it down."

"Bullshit." Jason said, narrowing his eyes. "And I don't need anyone's protection. Fuck Bruce."

"Speaking of," Dick said, looking around, "Where the hell is Bruce?"

"Defusing a twenty megaton dirty bomb in Gotham by himself," the Flash said, raising an eyebrow. "Which is about to go off in about...eh, six minutes?"

"Fuck." Jason said, turning to Dick. "We have to go help him."

"What happened to 'fuck Bruce, I don't care about his raggedy ass'?"

"It doesn't mean I want him dead!"

Diana rolled her eyes and leaned back. "Just go already. I'm sure your father will appreciate it."

Dick and Jason ran towards the elevators as the room took this in. Banner ventured first.

"Wait. Wayne has kids?"

Bruce knelt over the bomb as people ran screaming around him, comforted only by the fact that Clark was evacuating people as quickly as he could fly. Gotham was panicking. Guns, hostages and shootouts were the norm. Nuclear bombs? Well, it'd only happened once before, and he didn't really like to think about that time.

"How are we doing?"

Bruce had his hands full of wires, plus one in between his teeth. He grunted at Clark. "Keep evacuating."

"That doesn't sound very optimistic." Clark replied, then flew away. Bruce growled in frustration, looking down at the bomb. What am I missing?

"The yellow wire over there, dumbass."

He looked up to see Tony Stark standing over him, Captain America running around like a hooligan behind him, trying to evacuate people. Bruce preferred Clark's method better.

"I already tried the yellow one."

"Well, fuck, we're screwed." Tony said, sitting down next to him. "Shit, this is more complex than I thought."

"Shut up, Tony." He said, undoing a few more of the fake switches around the detonator. Okay, okay. He could do this. "For the record, the lunchbox is with my son."

"You have a son?"

Bruce grunted, slipping the wire in his teeth into the new conductor he'd created. "I have three. No, wait, Four."

"You have kids?" Tony exclaimed, still in disbelief. "Bruce, what the fuck?"

"My youngest, Tim, he took the lunchbox to school today to show his friends." He said while he worked, watching the countdown timer on his watch. Two minutes. "I couldn't take it away from him. He'd be so disappointed. He's six, Tony."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Bruce shook his head. "Nope. Tim has the lunchbox. But it's safe with him. I promise."

"I don't give a shit about the lunchbox, Bruce!"

"That's not what you were saying ten minutes ago," Bruce said, bristling. He pulled out the last fake switch and fist pumped mentally. Okay. Three more steps. "You should probably get out of here. There's less than a minute left, and I'm not sure I'm going to make it."

"Bullshit." Tony said, pushing his hands aside. He looked inside the bomb, poking gingerly at the new connection Bruce had made. "Keep doing whatever you were doing, okay, and I'm sure you'll be fine…"

"Aren't you some sort of weapons expert?" Bruce asked, resuming his work a little frantically. "No, actually, you were a weapons manufacturer. How do you not know how to defuse a bomb?"

"My job wasn't to defuse bombs, it was to make them explode, dumbass."

Bruce felt Clark's hand on his shoulder and looked up briefly. "Are all the civilians gone?"

"Everyone's moved to a ten mile radius, except for Captain America and Tony." Clark replied, kneeling next to Bruce. "We have enough time to evacuate, Bruce."

"I'm staying." Bruce set his jaw. He glanced at Tony. "You should leave. You don't have the suit."

"I'm not leaving you." Tony said, only to be dragged to his feet by Steve. "Steve, I-"

"We're leaving." Steve nodded at Clark. "Can you take us?"

"Of course." Clark grabbed a protesting Tony and then Steve, sharing one last look with Bruce. He was gone for a moment, then returned empty-handed. He resumed his kneeling position next to Bruce. "Well?"

"One last wire…" Bruce said, feeling the sweat under the cowl. Was he really going to die here? Christ. He wanted to say goodbye, maybe apologize to Jason, kiss Tim's forehead one last time-

Clark watched him carefully, blue eyes wide. The countdown was at fifteen seconds. "There."

The bomb defused with a short chirp, then went blank. Clark let out a breath, clapping Bruce on the back. "You did it!"

Bruce smiled, his trembling hands betraying the fear still coursing through his body. It had been close. Too close. "Of course I did."

He looked at the other man, then collapsed backwards onto the ground, just staring at Gotham's skyline above him. He ripped off the cowl, running a hand through his hair.

Clark surprised him by sprawling out next to him, laughing so hard the ground vibrated underneath him.

"What's so funny?"

"Your hair is-" Clark trailed off, watching as Bruce sat up suddenly. "I think it just turned gray."

"You're shitting me." Bruce said, grabbing a portable mirror from his belt. He looked at his reflection, and, sure enough, his dark hair was almost completely gray. "What the hell was in that bomb?"

"Some sort of radiation, probably." Clark said, stifling a giggle. "You just-you look so different!"

"Shut up."

"It looks fine!" Clark said, eyes going wide as Bruce glared at him. "Girls like gray hair these days anyway! Bruce, do not shoot me-"

Tony, Steve, Clint and Clark were sitting in his foyer in civilian clothing, sipping on the tea Alfred had brought them. Bruce stood in front of his mirror, admiring his new hair away from their company.

"Master Timothy is about to arrive, sir."

Bruce looked up to see Alfred in the doorway, a box of hair dye in one hand. He shook his head at the silent offer, moving away from the mirror. "I think it shows character."

"Anything you say, Master Bruce." Alfred acquiesced, stepping to the side. "Master Dick and Master Jason have also returned from Stark Tower."

"Oh?" Bruce quirked a brow as he walked towards the main staircase. "I had no idea they'd escaped. Surely they know better by now."

"They'll be regretting their actions in a few minutes," Alfred said, stern. He smiled at Bruce. "I don't think they're too old to be spanked just yet."

"Do it in the kitchen. No cameras there." Bruce said. Liar. There were actually six. "Thanks, Alfred."

"My pleasure, Master Wayne."

He reached the staircase and grabbed the banister in a tight grip. Steeling himself, he descended the stairs, ready for anything. "Tony. Steve. Clint. Tim will be home in a few minutes."

"Holy shit." Tony said, staring at him. Even Steve was gawking. "Bruce. What the fuck happened to your hair?"

Sigh. "It's called gamma rays, and apparently they're very effective." He reached the bottom of the stairs and approached the trio, nodding at Clark. "Clint, I'm sorry again about all of this."

Not really.

Clint looked at him suspiciously, but nodded. Bruce exchanged a look with Clark, who glared back. He made something close to puppy eyes back and got a nod. "Clint, would you like to go flying with me?"

Clint looked at Clark like he was having a heart attack. "I-I, uh, yes. Yes. Yes yes. Please. Right now?"

Clark spread his arms. "Sure."

Tony and Steve watched in disbelief as Clint hopped into Clark's arms with a yell, holding on with all of his strength. Clark sent Bruce a look over his shoulder, then walked to the doorway and leapt into the sky. Clint's yell could be heard for a good thirty seconds straight.

"Well…" Tony said. "Good thing you don't have neighbors."

"Perks of being rich," Bruce replied, shrugging. He walked to the doorway, trying to spot the bus. "Ah. I see him."

Steve seemed curious, peering over Tony's shoulder. "How old is he? Your son, I mean."

"Six." Bruce said, strangely solemn as he watched the bus climb up the driveway. "The oldest is Jason. Damian is next, then Dick. Then Tim. Damian lives with his mother most of the time, however."

The three of them watched as Tim's bus pulled to a stop in front of Wayne Manor, the last stop. There were no kids on the bus. Tim stepped off the bus confidently, waving to the bus driver. In his other hand was the Superman lunchbox. He caught sight of Bruce immediately. "Daddy!"

Bruce knelt and spread his arms. Tim ran straight into him, hugging him tightly. Steve and Tony watched on in silence as the child embraced his father. "How was school, buddy?"

"It was awesome!" Tim raised his hand, showing them the lunchbox. "Look at what Alfred gave me! Isn't it awesome? David at lunch told me it was like, a collector's item, whatever that means. What happened to your hair? And Janine was so jealous, and-"

Bruce picked up Tim, lunchbox and all, listening intently as the six year old (still so small for his age) relayed the adventures of the day. Clark and Clint returned in between the recounting of lunch and recess. Tim held out his arms. "Uncle Clark!"

"Hey, buddy!" Clark said, grabbing Tim from Bruce. "How was school?"

Clint watched balefully as Tim showed Clark his Superman lunchbox, bragging even more grandly about its prowess. Bruce sighed to himself, knowing this would be painful. "Tim, I think Alfred has some hot cocoa in the kitchen for you."

"Hot cocoa?" Tim's eyes went wide. Clark placed him down on the floor carefully. "Awesome!"

"Let me take your backpack and lunchbox," Bruce said, carefully taking it from Tim, who looked over the moon at the promise of something sweet. "Be polite to Alfred, now."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Of course, Dad. Bye!"

He scampered off, zig zagging like the little maniac he was. Bruce felt the distinct urge to punch himself in the face. He grabbed the lunchbox and turned to Clint and Tony. "Well...here it is…"

Clint's lower lip wobbled. He looked at Clark, then to the lunchbox. "Keep it."

"What?" Bruce and Tony asked at the same time. "Are you serious?"

"The little kid wants it more than me," Clint said, gesturing to where Tim had run off. "Besides. I just flew with Superman. I think I'm gonna go cry somewhere."

Bruce looked at Clark, who seemed slightly unnerved under his reporter persona. "Anytime you want to fly, I'll come pick you up. Unless someone's in danger, of course."

"Really?" Clint asked, eyes wide. He turned to Tony. "Did you just hear that?"

Tony looked at the archer. "You're really just an eight year old kid on the inside, aren't you?"

Steve patted him on the shoulder. "Lay off him. He's had a tough day."

"You had a tough day?" Bruce asked. He turned to Clark. "Take me off watch tonight. I'm having a family dinner."

"Let's make it a JL dinner, huh?" Clark said, looking in the direction of the kitchen. "We need some, uh, team bonding."

"You just want Alfred's cooking."

"The man makes a mean steak." Clark said, eyes twinkling. "I'll put Aquaman on watch."

Bruce frowned. "Why Aquaman?"

"Because I read Alfred's notes for dinner, and he's making cod. You think Aquaman wants to eat his friends?"

Tony broke in. "Aquaman doesn't eat fish?"

Bruce facepalmed. "He lives with them! Of course he doesn't want to eat them!"

Steve started chuckling next to him, joined a second later by Clark. Tim's little footsteps caught his ear. He looked down to find his son looking up at him, face worried.

"Do you have my lunchbox? I want to show Aunt Diana."

"Ooh, Aunt Diana's here," Bruce said dramatically, hiding the lunchbox behind his back. "What's the magic word?"

Tim looked at him. "Please?"

Bruce handed it over. "Here you go."

Steve crossed his arms as Tim ran off again, staring at Bruce in a way that made him highly uncomfortable. "Can I help you?"

"No, no. I was just thinking." Steve said, shaking his head. "Batman has kids. Who'd have thunk?"

"Well, when a mommy bat and a daddy bat really love each other-" Tony broke off as Steve smacked him, drawing a snort from Clark. "Well, Bruce, it's been fun. Let's never do this again."

"What, the nuclear bomb part, or the diplomatic relations part?"

Tony snorted. "Both. Peace, bitches."

Clint and Steve followed him dutifully to the Ferrari Bruce knew was parked outside. Once they'd left, Bruce turned to Clark, who was looking amused. "What?"

Clark gestured at the ceiling. "Alfred just switched all of Jason and Dick's stuff. That'll be fun later."

"Not as much fun as monitor duty for three weeks straight," Bruce growled, remembering Alfred's words earlier. "They snuck out to our meeting today."

"I may have noticed a few people in the air vents."

"Clark!"

Kent blushed a little, holding his hands up. "We were busy!"

"They're kids! They're too young for this!"

Clark rolled his eyes. "Look at you, getting all protective. I should film this. Diana won't believe me when I tell her you have feelings. She thinks you're a decrepit old man with a heart of stone."

"Fuck Diana."

"Oooh, I'm telling her you said that."

"Then I'm telling her about your browser history!"

Clark grit his teeth. "I don't care. I'll live up to my sexual preferences, unlike you."

"Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure the top three words were 'Wonder Woman Gangbang". Are you really sure you want me to tell Diana about that? Huh, Clark?"

"Christ. You win. Fine." Clark crossed his arms. "How are you always three steps ahead of everyone?"

Bruce smiled as two horrified shouts sounded from upstairs, beatific. "Practice, my friend. Lots of practice."

"And money."

"Yeah, and money. Lots of money."

The End