Chapter Text
Jason sighed as he realized he could feel the music the club was pumping out, even from a building away in the alley where he was stashing his bike. He was extremely glad he’d made sure his helmet had a good noise regulator.
He’d gotten to the club a half hour early for his meeting with the leader of a group of drug smugglers and her lieutenants. His original plan was to slip into the club through a back entrance, then keep an eye on the main room from the second floor until the meeting. And he had been on his way to doing just that when he saw the girl at the front of the line.
She was thin and on the shorter side with light brown skin. Her hair was chin-length, curly, and a pitch black that faded to a dark red at the ends to match her lipstick. Although she’d styled her hair, makeup, and clothes in a way that made her look older, he’d have placed her at seventeen max.
No one was allowed in the club unless they were twenty-one.
Jason hovered in the shadows near the corner of the building, watching as the bouncer looked over her ID with a frown.
“Just send her in. She’s fine,” the other bouncer huffed from where he was flirting with a guy slightly further down the line.
“I don’t know.”
Bouncer Two rolled his eyes and came over. He looked at the ID and scoffed. “It’s fine, Mark. Just let her in.”
Mark squinted at her and repeated, “I don’t know.”
“Mark!”
“Hey, if you wanna be caught sending in underage girls, be my guest. I’d like my head to stay out of a duffle bag.”
“You’re just being paranoid again. Her ID’s perfect. Get moving before the boss gets mad at us for holding up the line.”
Jason saw Mark starting to give up and figured it was time to step in. Pulling on Red Hood, he swaggered out of the shadows and up to the line. Those who didn’t immediately fall quiet at the sight of him started whispering with their neighbors. Both bouncers stiffened and the girl eyed him cautiously. Thankfully she didn’t look scared of him, and she didn’t flinch away when he wrapped an arm around her.
“There you are, Little Red. Hope I didn’t make you wait too long, beautiful.” He gave the bouncers a none-too-subtle glance over. “Any trouble, boys?”
“N-no, Mr. Hood. Just making real sure she’s of age. Don’t want no kids in here.”
Hood laughed and grabbed the girl’s ID. “Yeah, my Little Red’s got a babyface. But she’s definitely a woman.”
The bouncers laughed -- nervously so on Mark’s part -- and let them through.
He led her to the VIP area and into a small booth, the girl pressed to his side with his arm around her shoulders.
“Mr. Hood,” she said once they were settled. “I’m grateful that you got that guy off my back, but I’m not, uh…”
Her accent was primarily Latin North, but there were a few of Gotham's other accents too. Mostly the Crime Alley offshoot of the Narrows accent, but there was a little bit of Diamond too with a hint of Bristol posh layered over it. The latter was odd, but not entirely out there. It wasn’t unheard of for those on the Northside to have a bit of Bristol in their voices if they grew up watching the bigwigs bossing their parents around.
“I would hope not,” he spun her ID between his fingers, “Miss Olivia Draper. I don’t date kids and I don’t like people who do. This is a good fake. A really good fake. You certainly got your money’s worth. But I’m guessing you’re, what, fourteen?”
The address on the ID placed her in Bowery’s Hispanic neighborhood, but it also said she was twenty-two.
She glared at his helmet, then looked away. “Eighteen.”
“Try again.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Alright, fourteen it is, then.”
“If you think I’m underage, then why’d you let me in?” she asked, eyeing him.
“Because those idiots were going to let you in either way. At least now someone’s keeping an eye on you.”
“You could have just told them to send me off.”
“And you just would have ended up somewhere else.”
“So what, you’re going to babysit me out of the goodness of your heart?” she said with a raised eyebrow that suddenly reminded him of Alfred.
He shoved down the feeling and tugged her closer. “I didn’t say that. Normally I’d have one of my ladies pick you up and take you home or to a shelter. Tonight I’m feeling generous enough to make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“I’ve got a meeting soon. I came early to keep an eye on things to make sure nothing shady is happening.”
“Aren’t you a crime lord?”
“To make sure nothing shady I don’t approve of is happening,” he corrected with a snort.
“So it’s true?” she whispered. “You do protect people. And not in a racket sense.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he grunted. “I make sure people keep their hands away from where they’re not wanted, make sure all the drugs are both clean and only sold to people old enough to know they’re throwing their lives away, and make sure kids are being taken care of and are allowed to be kids. That’s it. I’m not protecting anyone; I’m just a scumbag with rules.”
“If you say so,” she said, sounding entirely unconvinced with sharp brown eyes that almost seemed to be studying him. “So how do I factor into this?”
He scooped her up and dropped her on his lap, managing to keep his hands polite while making it look like anything but to the outside observer. “I’ve noticed people are braver when they can both see me and think I’m distracted,” he answered in a low voice. “And apparently, having a girl in my lap is supposed to be extremely distracting.”
“Most guys would find it distracting,” she shot back, slipping her arms around his neck.
“I suppose.” He’d never really gotten it himself, and Dick had only managed to confuse himself while trying to explain it, but there must have been something to it with how often Selina got one over on Bruce purely by pressing up against him (Ew!) so he’d used it to his advantage a few times since coming back to Gotham. It worked like a charm. “But I’m a lot more focused than most.”
She hummed then shifted awkwardly. “So what do you want me to do?”
“Just sit there and look pretty,” he said, then looked up at the waiter coming towards them. He put one hand on the girl’s knees and the other on the back of her neck, gently guiding her head to his shoulder. Quietly, he added, “If you start feeling uncomfortable, cough and I’ll stop immediately.”
She nodded, and the action thankfully came off more like a nuzzle.
“Can I get you two anything?” the waiter asked, voice pleasant if slightly nervous.
“Nothing for me,” Hood grunted, running his fingers through Olivia’s hair. “How about you, Little Red?”
She pulled back to look at him through her lashes. Humming, her finger started drawing circles on his chest. “How about a Cinderella?”
“Well, you heard my princess. And make sure there’s nothing in it. I want her to be nice and sober for what we’re doing later tonight and I won’t be happy if I find out that’s not the case.”
“Of course, Mr. Hood,” he agreed quickly. “I’ll be right back with that.”
“Should I be concerned about how good you were at that?” Hood asked once they were alone again.
“No, I’ve just taken a couple of acting classes.”
He didn’t buy it, but he decided not to push it. Instead, he focused his attention on the club.
Tim had planned to spy on Marisa Cortés’ meeting with the Red Hood by going undercover at the club they were meeting above. Tim had planned to snake a camera up the vent in the storeroom next to the bathroom.
Tim’s plan had been carefully calculated, even if he’d had to go behind the other Bats’ backs.
Tim’s plan had been thoroughly destroyed long before she walked into the meeting on the arm of the Red Hood himself.
She was starting to regret Olivia.
The idea had been good when Tim had first come up with her. Caroline Hill -- the first undercover alias he’d used -- had been awkward, but he’d realized what was wrong while thinking over the mission for his debriefing report. It was the proportions and attention that was getting to him, not being a girl in general. So he’d changed his plans for Alvin Draper to Olivia instead. Olivia could pass for older than Tim could pull off and women really could get into places easier if they had conventionally attractive faces. With makeup, a more modest chest piece, and some stylish-yet-inexpensive clothes, Olivia could pull off most undercover ops. She was Tim’s Matches Malone.
Then Hood had shown up on the scene. Most of Gotham was unaffected, but a lot of people in the Narrows, especially Crime Alley, started becoming paranoid about anyone who looked just a little too young. Young men and women that Tim knew were eighteen or older were still getting turned away and even Olivia -- who had one of Oracle’s perfect-to-the-point-of-technically-being-legal IDs -- would sometimes get sent off “just in case.”
She’d tried to look a bit older, but apparently, that hadn’t worked. The one bouncer had thought she was eighteen and Hood had somehow managed to think she was younger than she was.
She was fifteen, not fourteen!
This brings her to her current situation: being babysat by Gotham’s newest crime lord and getting a front-row seat to the meeting she’d been trying to spy on.
Cortés was already there when they entered, sitting at a table with some of her lieutenants and talking to a young man who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. Hood relaxed slightly, for reasons Olivia would already have known even if he hadn’t explained before the meeting. It was no secret that Ray Cortés was spoiled rotten by his mother. She doted on him every chance she got and had killed men for trying to use him against her, to the point there were rumors that she’d had her husband killed not for his power, but because he’d taken a swing at Ray. Up until recently, she’d kept him out of the business, but she’d started bringing him to safe meetings after he turned eighteen. Hood thought she’d bring him in for the meeting, counting on Hood’s rumored care for children to keep him in check. That was the only reason he was bringing Olivia in with him. Had Ray not been there, he’d have assumed something was up and sent her back out to their table.
Instead, he led her to a chair across from Cortés.
“Red Hood,” the leader of the Víboras greeted him. “Welcome, would your friend like a chair?”
Sticking to the ruse, Olivia slipped into Hood’s lap before he could answer.
He set a hand on her hip. “No, I like her right here.”
“You got here a little early. A few of my boys are still distracted in the club, but I’ve made sure they’ll be here soon. It seems you’ve found a little distraction yourself, though.”
He shrugged. “Little Red and I had plans before I got your invitation. Decided to bring her along instead of making her wait until we could have our fun later.”
Ray leaned forwards, eyes slowly roving over Olivia. “I’d be happy to keep her company during your meeting.”
Skin crawling, she fought the urge to lean back from his gaze. She went to cough; both because she’d probably accidentally start a gang war if she was left alone with Ray and because she needed eyes on the meeting.
Before she could make a sound, though, Hood was already wrapping a protective arm around her waist. “Sorry, I don’t like to share.”
Ray frowned -- pouted, really -- but didn’t push it.
The last of Cortés’ lieutenants arrived soon after and the group got to business.
Cortés and Hood were only just starting to work together so the Bats had already picked up most of the information passed around, but there were a few things Olivia made note of and she got a good bit of information on an upcoming Víboras shipment.
Altogether, it was a good op. The only issue was Ray. He continued to stare at Olivia off and on throughout the meeting. About halfway through, her eyes met his and he winked.
She knew it was a bad idea, but the creep was getting on her nerves. She dropped her hand into a spot where only Ray could see it, then flipped him off.
He immediately bristled but didn’t get a chance to say anything before his mother turned to ask his opinion on something. She smiled and relaxed a little more into Hood as Ray fumed.
Once the meeting was over, Hood led her back out to the main room, but he stopped them near the bar instead of heading back toward their table.
“I know what I said before, but I think we should just head out now.”
She looked up to see him watching Ray as he slinked into the VIP area, the other’s eyes not so subtly glancing toward Olivia.
Grateful to both avoid the creep and not have to spend a couple of hours pretending to be a party girl, she stepped closer to her escort. “Sounds good.”
They left the club and she expected him to leave her as soon as they were out of sight, but he kept leading her down the street.
“I’m guessing you don’t have a ride, being fourteen,” he said.
“I’m not fourteen, and I’ll be fine.”
“Sure, kid.” He turned her down an alley and up to a bike. He grabbed a helmet from the saddlebags and tossed it to her. “Get on.”
“And if I say no?”
“I’m sorry, did you think I was asking?”
She crossed her arms.
“Kid, you can go ahead and walk off, but I’m just going to follow you anyways to make sure you get somewhere safe so you might as well get on.”
She scowled and put the helmet on. She gave him the address for the apartment she used as a safe house and slammed the helmet into Hood’s gut when they arrived. She also slammed the door to the building, earning a dirty look from the guy in 3B who liked to hang out near the mailboxes.
She changed out of her Olivia guise and waited half an hour to be sure Hood was gone, then headed home.
“Doesn’t it make you feel weird? You know, getting called a girl and stuff?”
Olivia shrugged, despite the fact Stephanie couldn’t see her. It didn’t feel weird. Sometimes it felt off, but then again sometimes it felt nice. Mostly, though, it didn’t feel like anything. It wasn’t really any different than being treated like a boy. Just a change in pronouns and a slightly different wardrobe, and the latter was just to fit in at the bars and clubs she had to frequent as part of the job. “Nah. It’s just kind of whatever. It doesn’t matter.”
“Huh. I don’t know. I think I’d feel weird if I had to go too long being called a guy.”
“Maybe it’s just different for girls.”
“Pretty sure guys are supposed to be the ones that get the weirdest about that stuff.”
“I don’t know then.”
Stephanie hummed. “Could Olivia go out for a girls’ day with me?”
“Girls’ day?”
“Yeah. We’d go shopping and get our nails done. I haven’t had a good girls’ day since Cass left.”
Olivia bit her lip as she thought about it. She did need some new clothes and getting her nails done could be fun, but they shouldn’t let their secret identities and aliases get mixed up.
Then again, connecting Olivia to Cluemaster through Stephanie could come in handy…
“I’ll think about it.”
“Cool.”
“Stephanie?”
“Shoot! Got to go!”
She snorted as Stephanie hung up. The blonde was home with a dislocated elbow so her mom had banned all vigilante stuff until she got the all-clear from Leslie. That didn’t technically mean Tim, but Tim wasn’t exactly Tim right now either. Olivia was spending the night out on the town, making appearances for appearances’ sake. Currently, she was at a bar in Calle Habana enjoying the music and keeping an ear out for gossip.
She was just sticking her phone back in her purse when someone sat down at her table and wrapped an arm around her. “Well, well, if it isn’t Little Red?”
She brushed the arm off and turned to give Ray Cortés a blank look. “Do I know you?”
Not taking the hint, he set his hand on her thigh. “We weren’t properly introduced. I’m Ray Cortés. We met a week ago when you were on Hood’s arm.”
She stood up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That’s alright, baby. How about I buy you a drink and -” He tried to grab her, but she stepped away.
“Sorry, I was just leaving,” she said and walked away.
“Aw, don’t be like that sweetheart.”
She kept walking, pulling her phone back out as she headed for the exit. She called for a taxi, then leaned against the wall of the alley, waiting.
A hand wrapped around her wrist.
“Get lost,” she huffed and yanked her arm, but Ray held on. “Final warning.”
“Come on, let’s go back inside,” he said, trying to pull her back to the bar.
She dug the heel of her stiletto into his foot and slammed the palm of her free hand against the underside of his chin.
“Ngh! You little bi-”
“What’s going on here?”
The two looked up at the large figure looming over them on the neighboring building’s fire escape.
“Nothing,” she said, crossing her arms.
“None of your business,” Ray huffed.
Red Hood leaned against the fire escape’s railing, one of his hands resting casually on the holster at his hip. “If nothing’s happening then you can run along, Cortés. I need to talk to my Little Red.”
Ray scowled at the man and for a moment it looked like he was going to grab the knife on his belt, but then he turned and went back into the bar.
“Since when am I yours?” she growled as Red Hood made his way towards her.
“Since no one else is keeping an eye on you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
He hummed. “Nice palm strike.”
She shrugged and turned back to the road.
“I’ll take you home.”
“I already called for a taxi.”
He leaned against the wall next to her. “Then I’ll wait with you until it gets here.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“He’s watching us through the window. The moment I leave he’ll be out here.”
“Don’t care. Why are you even here?”
An explosion sounded nearby.
“Nevermind,” she sighed and he chuckled. She looked down at her phone when she got a text and gave him a look. “My taxi just canceled.”
“Guess you need that ride after all.”
“Fine,” she spat out after reminding herself that she’d have to burn Olivia if she ended up having to go Robin on the Víboras’ spoiled prince.
There goes an entire night of work. And it was too late to join on patrol, too. Maybe she could sneak out after Hood dropped her off?
He held out his hand as they turned the corner. “I’ll be taking the fake ID you used to get into that place.”
“I didn’t even drink.”
“Don’t care, hand it over.” When she didn’t, he cocked his head. “Kid, I will search you.”
She dug the card out of her purse and slapped it into his hand. Great, now she was both losing a night and she had to beg for a new ID from Barbara. She hoped the redhead wouldn’t ask how she’d lost two cards in just over a week, but she doubted it. “You’re the worst.”
“Well I am a crime lord,” he chuckled and started leading her away.
“Do you bother all the girls like this?”
“Only the underage ones.” He seemed to realize what he said a moment later as he cursed and pointed at her smirk. “You know what I mean.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
She could feel his annoyed glare through the helmet. “Maybe I should talk to your parents. Put the fear of me into them so they’ll make sure you stay home at night.”
She couldn’t hold back a snort when she imagined him going all the way to Peru just to tell her parents that their son was spending her nights sneaking into clubs with a fake ID and a dress.
“What? You think I won’t?”
“It’s not that,” she said, shaking her head. “My parents are out of town right now.”
“Then who’s keeping an eye on you?”
Nobody, Tim could answer honestly with an eye-roll. He was fifteen not five.
My live-in housekeeper, Tim would tell anyone who asked, even if Mrs. McIlvaine didn’t check in much more than seeing if she needed to make him any meals for the day or if he’d be going out. She didn’t need to watch him, but he’d learned to exaggerate after seeing how weird Bruce and Dick got about it when he told them he wouldn’t be in boarding school anymore.
“I’m an adult,” Olivia said because she was supposed to be twenty-two.
“Try again.”
“My aunt stays with me,” she sighed. Clearly Hood wasn’t buying her fake age and likely never would.
He stared her down and she glared right back.
“Alright then.”