Title: It’s Not a Batarang
A/N: I don’t actually know what happened here. So. *hands*
Prompt: “I found the strangest thing in my pocket.”
Snippet: “I guess that brings me to part two of strange things I’ve found in my pocket.”
"So." Tim looks up from his printouts, highlighter between his teeth, when Jason comes closer to his computers. For the past five minutes the man had been dawdling by his motorcycle and Tim was beginning to wonder what was up with him.
Tim gives Jason a look – because, no, he does not have the time for whatever kind of game Jason is up to. Sometimes Tim thinks that Jason needs a sign or sticker or something that says Attention, I need it! Lots of it! Yours in specific! And I’ll be as obnoxious as possible while getting it! taped to his forehead. – and returns to skimming the print outs.
"I found the strangest thing in my pocket." Jason leans his hip against the edge of the table, Tim takes the highlighter out of his mouth, caps it, fixes Jason with a glare.
"If this is a batarang in your pocket joke, I’m going to tell you now – it was only funny the first time and even then it was only a little funny.”
"No, this isn’t a batarang joke. But yeah, there’s a batarang in my pocket. And some high grade explosives, some cigarettes, a lighter, among other things. Point being. I found two things in my pocket that weren’t supposed to be there and I think you’ll find them both equally interesting.”
Tim crosses his arms as Jason perches on top of Tim’s work table, shoving some of Tim’s papers and tools out of the way. He gives Tim a cheeky grin, even as Tim pinches the bridge of his nose and resists the urge to hit him in the face with a paper weight.
Jason reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out a USB. Tim frowns as Jason plugs it into his laptop, curious as to why this would be in Jason’s pocket. The man opens the files on the USB, angling the laptop for Tim to see. There’s a single file on the USB, Jason opens it and -
"So. You know this is like, a whole new level of paranoia, right? I mean – dual hit lists? For baddies and capes? Really?”
"To be fair. They are only contingencies." Damian probably slipped it to Jason. Probably. The little brat’s been looking for new and creative ways to be a pain and he’s been rather quiet lately.
"You have a contingency for Superman.” Jason replies, incredulous. “He is literally American values and apple pie, what would you need a contingency for? In case he goes crazy and starts not buying Girl Scout cookies and refuses to help old people cross the street?”
"Mind control tends to cancel that kind of thing out." Tim crosses his legs, narrows his eyes. Is this some sort of ploy to turn Jason against him? To make them fight?
Jason doesn’t look angry, though.
"Alright. You have a contingency for Bruce.” Jason scrolls down the list some more. “Jesus fuck, Bruce, Tim. I mean – yeah, the guy’s got issues, me being one of them, but. He’s got morals harder than anything. Like. Fuck. You even have one for Dick. And he’s. Well. Dick.”
"There is no such thing as someone above corruption or flaw." He reaches out to try and take the computer from Jason, "Regardless of personal feelings and affiliations – which can always change – I did as necessary."
"You do remember Bruce doing something like this and having it blow up in his face, right? Like, literally, blow up in his face."
"That’s why the entire plan isn’t listed in the database." Tim sighs as Jason holds the computer out of his reach. "I’m not so stupid as to write it all down.”
"You are a paranoid freak and I don’t know why I even stay with you." The other’s voice is teasing, "I notice that I’m not on here.”
"Well, you certainly aren’t a hero." Tim levels a pointed look at the bandages wrapped around Jason’s knuckles from where he punched Dick in the face after their latest argument.
"I’m not on the villain list either. Why is that? You got some other list I should know about?"
"I’m not going to arbitrarily knife you in the back, if that’s what you’re going at."
Both of them immediately flinch, the memory of their fight during Bruce’s…absence and the supposed death blow that ended it.
Jason looks a little embarrassed as he closes the laptop and puts it aside, clearing his throat before pressing the question -
"But seriously, I’m not on that list. You’ve got Superman, Batman, Wonderwoman, Nightwing, and a whole bunch of other stellar people on there. But not me. That’s just a teeny bit suspicious,” Jason holds his fingers apart, “Don’tcha think?”
"If I do have a plan for you, do you think I’d write it down for everyone to see?" Tim quirks a brow. "Besides, I don’t need a plan to bring you down.” Tim stands, takes a step in Jason’s direction, lowering his voice and rolling his shoulders back. Jason slides off the table, eyes flickering from Tim’s hands to his mouth. Jason steps around him, Tim turns, hand touching Jason’s shoulder and lightly pushing.
Jason lets out a soft grunt of surprise when he falls into Tim’s vacated chair, hands rising to cup Tim’s thighs when he climbs onto Jason’s lap. Tim quirks a brow, hands settling on Jason’s shoulders. “All I have to do is kick you out of bed.”
He watches Jason lick his lips, tilts his head when Jason reaches into his jacket pocket -
"I guess that brings me to part two of strange things I’ve found in my pocket."
Tim frowns, then scrambles off Jason when the other pulls out what looks to be a ring box. Jason looks vaguely amused as he tosses the box between his hands.
"See. I dunno if this is a sign for me to hurry up or what, but I think someone wants to make an honest man out of me. Or you. Or both of us.”
"Are those rings." Tim’s knees feel kind of weak right now. Jason pops the lid open, and – yes, those are rings.
"They sure look like rings to me. So, watcha say? Wanna go steady?"
"Jason, that’s not how you ask someone to marry you – that’s how you ask someone to go out with you." It’s quite possible that his brain has short circuited. "Oh my god, are you seriously asking me to marry you because someone slipped rings in your pocket? Those could be stolen. Or- or bugged. Or magical. Or something.”
"You are way too paranoid.”
"It’s not paranoia if someone really is after you." Tim eyes the rings, even as Jason yanks him forward and slides one on his finger. "And for that matter, I didn’t even say yes."
"Of course you’d say yes. I mean, you do love me after all. You didn’t put me on your kill list."
"It’s not a kill list!" Tim protests, even as Jason presses a kiss to his wrist. "And I do have a plan in case you go rogue."
"Yeah, your plan is to kick me to the couch." Jason rolls his eyes, leans back, hand still holding Tim’s, thumb rubbing circles on Tim’s wrist. "You loooooove me.”
"Well." Tim huffs, "Duh.”
Jason’s grin couldn’t be more smug when he pulls Tim in for a kiss.
"We still have to figure out where the rings came from." Tim points out, Jason snorts. "I was going to say Damian because he’s been using that list to get at me ever since he found it, but I don’t think he’d set us up for marriage."
"Anyone else know about the list?"
"Well. Dick." They both grimace.
"It can’t be him. I mean." Jason waves the hand with the damaged knuckles. "And. It’s you.”
"It can’t be anyone else because no one else knows." Tim glances at the computer. "I mean, he’s the only other person with the password to access the program."
"He hates me."
"He doesn’t hate you. He – disagrees with your methods and has some trouble understanding your unique brand of humor.”
"That’s a very light way of saying he hates me."
"He’s our brother, he doesn’t hate you."
"Then our brother is trying to set us up. That’s kind of incest-creepy-ish.”
Tim makes a face. “Do you always have to bring up the incest part? And if he gave you the list I don’t think that’s a sign he wants us to get married. Kind of mixed signals. I mean – it’s not the most romantic of things.”
"The fact that I’m not on it gives me all sorts of mushy, dangerous feelings – complete with heart palpitations and bats in my stomach. So, yeah. It’s a little romantic. Just a little."
"I didn’t make the list for the purpose of giving you heart palpitations."
"Most romantic things aren’t done on purpose."
"Most romantic things aren’t lists of contingencies for taking down the most powerful people in the world. Your sense of romantics is highly warped."
"Well, it somehow landed me with you, didn’t it? So it totally works."
"The fact that I love you has nothing to do with your strange sense in taste so much as it has to do with me being able to tolerate it."
"You hurt me." Jason holds his hand over his heart. "Right here. You should kiss it better."
"Of course." Tim smirks, reaching out to toy with the hem of Jason’s shirt, before pushing Jason away – smirk widening at Jason’s wide eyes. "But don’t you have something more important to be doing?"
"Like asking permission for my hand in marriage?"
There’s silence for a full minute, and Tim takes a certain sort of amusement from watching realization dawn on Jason’s face.
"Shit." Jason pales. "Shit. He’s not in the country – you think. Do you think? Shit. This can’t be worse than when we came out to him. It can’t – right? I mean. He already knows we’re fucking so this should make him happy, right? Right?”
"On a scale of one to Red Lanterns, how upset do you think Bruce would be that I’m trading in his last name for yours?"
"You are one sick bastard."
"And yet you still put a ring on it." Tim waves his hand.
"It’s Dick’s fault."
"There’s always a dick involved. Anyway, this solves the issue of you not being on the list. If we’re married you can fully expect me to divorce you and take you for all that you’re worth."
"Sadistic. Bastard.” The man replies, but there’s not much heat behind it as he stands, leaning into Tim’s space, hand resting on Tim’s hip.
"I repeat. You put a ring on it." He takes pity on his as-of-now-fiancé, "And it won’t be that bad. Occasional awkward silences and tenseness aside, you’re Bruce’s favorite and everyone knows it."
Tim idly toys with the zipper on Jason’s jacket, closing his eyes when Jason rests his chin on his head.
"I kind of have the feeling that Dickie set this all up just so he could have the pleasure of watching me and Bruce do the entire awkward you hurt my kid who’s also your brother thing. But for you, it’s totally worth it.”
"Glad to know."
"I’d also like you to know that even if he didn’t slip me the list and the rings I’d have asked you on my own time.”
Tim smiles, soft fluttering laugh pulling his lips up.
"So this was just incentive and this isn’t as much a shot-gun wedding as it probably looks. I mean. I’m not marrying you for the sake of justice or whatever."
"And if B glares me into a coma it’s totally Dick’s fault."
"I promise to visit you in the hospital every day. I’ll bring flowers."
“Such a romantic.” Jason whines. “I’m walking off to my possible death, orchestrated by our elder brother – and it’s still a tad bit creepy that he practically pushed us into getting engaged, not that I’m not gonna enjoy forever with you – and carried out by Batman’s glare of doom and you tell me that you’ll bring me flowers. You don’t bring me flowers normally.”
"I don’t bring you flowers normally because neither of us are home enough to appreciate them."
They spend some time, standing like that. Jason’s hand on Tim’s hip, Tim’s hand playing with the zipper of Jason’s jacket.
"So." Jason breaks the silence. "Timothy Jackson Todd. Weird. Good kind of weird."
"It’s better than Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne-Todd." Tim pushes up on his toes, presses his lips to the side of Jason’s jaw. "I’m glad it’s you."
"Yeah - It could only be you."