Chapter Text
Stephanie stood outside the cafe, shivering slightly as the chilly breeze of Old Gotham cut through her jacket. The street was quieter than she expected, with just a few passersby huddled in their coats, and the hum of distant traffic creating a soft ambient noise in the background. The place wasn’t exactly sketchy, but it wasn’t upscale either–more of a worn-in, cozy area that had a bit of character. She glanced at the cafe sign, a little wooden board with handwritten letters that read “Crusty Crooks Cafe.” It had a bizarrely charming, understated vibe that she was starting to appreciate, even if it wasn’t her usual scene.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, wondering just how much of a gamble this coffee date would turn out to be. But just then, she spotted a sleek black BMW rolling up to the curb. It had blacked-out windows so dark they were definitely illegal, and for a moment, Steph felt a spike of wariness creep up her spine. That was the kind of car you’d expect to see in a mob movie, not at a cafe in Old Gotham.
The car came to a smooth stop in front of her, engine purring quietly, and the back passenger door swung open. Tim only stepped half-out, and for a second, Stephanie’s breath hitched. He was dazzling.
Why do birds suddenly appear
Tim was dressed in a way that was both elegant and cute. Undusting her fashion know-how, she would describe him wearing a mixed style of dark academia and preppy lolita boy. He wore fitted black leggings tucked into ankle-high leather booties with a slight heel, the kind that clicked softly on the pavement as he moved. Over that, he sported warm, high-waisted shorts in a wool-like plaid fabric, which seemed both cozy and fashionable. But it was his top half that really stood out–a rich, oversized red cashmere sweater that looked impossibly soft, the fabric bunching just slightly around his slim waist. Beneath the sweater peeked a crisp white collared shirt, the collar adorned with a delicate chain brooch that glittered faintly in the afternoon light. A velvet red beret perched slightly askew on his head, giving him an almost Parisian look. Black gloves covered his hands, adding a touch of sophistication, while also keeping them warm against the cool Gotham air.
Every time you are near?
Steph was momentarily floored at how put-together he looked, like he’d stepped out of a fashion spread. He was all soft edges and stylish details, with an air of effortless elegance that made him seem almost out of place against the gritty backdrop of the city.
Just like me, they long to be
What really caught her eye though, was the way he seemed to glow with excitement when he saw her, a genuine smile spreading across his face. But her attention was quickly drawn to the figure behind him.
Jason was still inside the car, visible only by the slant of light catching his face through the open door. He wore a perfectly tailored bespoke suit in a dark, charcoal gray that highlighted his broad shoulders. His hair, slicked back from earlier in the day, still held its polished shape, though a few strands had fallen loose, softening his intense features.
Close to you
A large hand rested possessively at Tim’s waist, anchoring him. The touch was gentle but firm, a small act that spoke volumes of unspoken communication between the two. Jason leaned in close to Tim, murmuring something quietly into his ear, and though Steph couldn’t hear the words, she noticed the way Tim’s eyes softened and he nodded in response, completely at ease. Jason’s lips curved into a smirk, satisfied, and he pressed a soft kiss to the shell of Tim’s ear before letting him go.
The moment seemed so intimate, so natural, that Steph almost felt like she was intruding on something private. There was a possessive energy in the way Jason held Tim, a combination of tenderness and quiet authority that left no room for doubt about how much he cared for him.
Why do stars fall down from the sky
Tim finally turned his attention fully to Steph, his smile brightening as he hopped out of the car with a bounce in his step, his heels clicking softly on the pavement. Jason stayed in the car, watching them for just a moment longer before the door shut smoothly and the BMW pulled away from the curb like a silent predator slipping back into the night.
Every time you walk by?
“Hi Stephanie!” Tim greeted cheerfully, his enthusiasm palpable. He looked so genuinely pleased to see her that she couldn’t help but grin back, her earlier wariness melting away.
Just like me, they long to be
“Hey, Tim,” Steph replied, managing a smile of her own. “You look adorable, by the way! I almost feel underdressed,” she added with a playful grin, trying to mask her surprise at the fancy arrival and Jason’s sudden appearance.
Tim’s cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink at the compliment, and he did a little shrug. “Oh, thank you! I thought I’d dress up a bit since it’s our first official hangout,” he said, looking genuinely pleased by her words.
Close to you
Steph noted the lingering presence of Jim, the security guard, standing a respectful distance away but still within sight. It was strange to see Tim with what seemed like constant security detail, especially since they were just grabbing coffee. But then again, his boyfriend was clearly a protective type, and Tim didn’t seem to mind at all. She gave him a nod, which he returned with a polite but silent acknowledgement.
“Nice ride,” Steph said, jerking her thumb toward the BMW that had already rolled off. “Those windows looked like they could hide a dead body.”
Tim laughed, a sound that seemed almost unhinged. “Yeah, they’re not strictly legal,” he admitted, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “But Jason insists on them for privacy, and I kind of like it. Makes me feel like I’m in a space shuttle.”
“Of course, it does,” Steph teased lightly, before looking around. “So, this place was your pick? I wasn’t expecting a coffee shop in this part of town to be so… cute.”
As they walked towards the cafe entrance, Steph couldn’t help but notice the way Tim seemed to carry himself–confident, but with a hint of bashfulness that made him even more endearing. There was a quiet joy in his eyes, and the way he talked to her made it feel like this was more than just a casual coffee meeting.
Tim’s smile grew even more sincere. “It’s one of my favorites,” he said. “Kind of a hidden gem. Plus, they make the best sourdoughs, hands down.” He tilted his head slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I also thought you’d appreciate a place that’s not all Bruce Wayne’s stuffy clubs and high society dining.”
Steph gave him a pointed look but couldn’t help laughing. “Okay, fair point. You caught me–I was spoiled by all that. But I’m game! Lead the way, Tim.”
Stephanie follows Tim into the cafe, already bracing herself for what she thought might be another rundown spot in Old Gotham. But to her surprise, the place was actually quite charming. The interior was filled with tasteful rustic decor: dark wooden tables, mismatched chairs with equally mismatched seat cushions, and shelves lined with trailing plants and antique knick-knacks. The lighting was soft, casting a golden glow over the cozy space. Plush couches were arranged in little nooks, perfect for conversations or curling up with a book. The walls were covered with maximalist decor–old picture frames, quirky art pieces, and a collection of clocks that seemed to tick in unison. It was busy, but in a way that felt comforting rather than chaotic.
Steph’s eyes drifted to the display case, and she was practically overwhelmed by how mouthwateringly good everything looked. Pastries of every kind lined the shelves: croissants, muffins, eclairs, tarts—each one more tempting than the last. She could already feel her stomach growling in anticipation.
Looking around at the other patrons, she noticed they were just regular folks–students, artists, and locals who didn’t seem to mind the casual, down-to-earth vibe. She even spotted a business suit or two. No one else was dressed as fancily as Tim though, which made him stand out even more. The best part? The menu prices were surprisingly reasonable, even for someone on a tight budget like a college student. Steph felt a bit relieved; this place wasn’t about luxury, it was about comfort.
On the day that you were born the angels got together
Tim led them to a table tucked away in the far back corner of the cafe, where the lighting was soft and their privacy was assured. It was the perfect spot, with a view of the whole room yet still hidden enough to feel like their own little world. Steph settled into her seat, glancing around once more with an approving nod.
Just when she thought this was the kind of place where you’d have to order at the counter, an old gentleman in a waistcoat and apron walked up to their table with menus in hand. They smiled warmly and asked what they wanted to drink, and Steph was taken aback by the personal touch. It felt like they were being treated as VIP guests instead of just regular customers.
“Uh, I’ll have a hot chocolate, please,” Steph said, still a little out of sorts from the unexpected service.
And decided to create a dream come true
Tim, without missing a beat, ordered some kind of fancy-sounding espresso that she couldn’t even begin to pronounce. He seemed completely at ease, like he was used to this kind of treatment all the time.
As they waited for their drinks, Steph’s eyes wandered to where Jim, Tim’s ever-present bodyguard, was seated nearby. To her surprise, he was chatting amiably with a young woman behind the counter who bore a striking resemblance to him but infinitely more rounded and petite. She seemed to be working the pastry case with the kind of skill that only a seasoned baker could have.
Tim noticed her gaze and smiled. “That’s Jim’s younger sister,” he said casually. “She works here as the head pastry chef . Went to culinary school in Japan and everything. You should definitely take some stuff back with you later. I always get things from here when I’m craving, and trust me, they’re amazing.”
Steph blinked, pleasantly surprised. “Wait, really? That’s pretty cool. No wonder everything in the display case looks so good.”
So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold
Tim nodded with a smile that seemed even warmer now. “Yeah, she’s a genius when it comes to desserts. It’s part of why I love this place so much–it feels like a hidden gem, but with that personal touch you don’t find anywhere else.”
And starlight in your eyes of blue
Steph felt herself relaxing more. Despite the odd circumstances of her meeting with Tim, the whole setting felt genuine, almost homey. It was clear that Tim wasn’t just some fancy rich kid; he had roots here, connections that made this place special to him. She could see why he’d picked it for their little coffee date, and she found herself even more curious about the layers hidden beneath that charming exterior of his.
As they settled into their cozy corner table with their drinks, Stephanie took a moment to absorb the vibe of the cafe. It was undeniably charming with an almost homey feel that seemed to wrap around them like a warm blanket. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the heady aroma of baked goods, and it was all so cozy and inviting that Steph understood why Tim had chosen this spot.
But it was what was happening behind the counter that really caught her eye. Through a small square window that divided the front of the cafe from the back kitchen, she could see the bakers at work. They were an imposing sight–large men with forearms like tree trunks, vigorously kneading dough, their hands moving with a practiced, almost aggressive rhythm. One of them was slamming a giant ball of dough onto the counter, while another was loading bread into an old-school oven, the kind with a roaring fire that you could almost feel from where they were sitting. The heat coming from the back kitchen was probably the reason Tim hadn’t bothered with a coat today–the cafe was practically its own little furnace.
Steph’s eyes widened in surprise as she took in the sight. “Wow, they make all the bread fresh right here?” she asked, genuinely impressed, her gaze drifting again over to the display case filled with golden, rusty loaves and delicate pastries that looked almost too pretty to eat.
That is why all the girls in town
Tim’s smile was a little smug, clearly enjoying her reaction. Without even a word, he gave a small nod to one of the more available servers, who promptly made his way over to them like he was just waiting for Tim’s cue. The ease with which the server responded to Tim’s unspoken command made Steph blink in surprise–this wasn’t the typical cafe experience.
Follow you all around
“Hi Ani, can we have a sampler spread today? I’m showing my new friend the goods,” Tim said cheekily, his grin playful yet somehow authoritative, like he was both a regular customer and someone who had a special connection with the staff.
Just like me, they long to be
Ani, the server, was not what Steph had expected. He was tall, with the kind of presence that immediately drew attention. His face looked like it belonged in a Renaissance painting–handsome and striking, with sharp angles softened by a cascade of golden curls. A prominent scar slashed diagonally over one eye, adding a layer of ruggedness to his otherwise angelic features. When he smirked at Tim’s request, there was a glint in his eye that spoke of familiarity and perhaps even a bit of fondness.
Close to you
“No problem, princess,” Ani replied, his voice deep and smooth, tinged with the faintest hint of an accent that Steph couldn’t quite place. “I’ll bring out the best we’ve got. Be right back.”
On the day that you were born the angels got together
As Ani turned to head back to the kitchen, Steph couldn’t help but be a little awestruck. This place wasn’t just a cafe; it was like a well-orchestrated stage, and Tim seemed to know everyone involved in the performance. She turned back to Tim, raising her eyebrows in curiosity.
And decided to create a dream come true
“Princess, huh?” she teased, though there was genuine wonder in her tone. “Also I noticed they treat you like some kind of VIP.”
So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold
Tim rolled his eyes with an easy smile, taking a sip of his fancy espresso. “They just like to tease me. They know I’ve been hanging around here for a while,” he said. His eyes gleamed with something that made her think he wasn’t just talking about the cafe.
And starlight in your eyes of blue
As they waited for the sample spread, Steph couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this cafe and to Tim’s connection here than met the eye. She didn’t know yet how deep that connection went, but she had a feeling that this unassuming place held a special significance for him—a kind of sanctuary in the heart of Gotham's lowest.
Steph tried her best, she really did, to stay focused on her mission of gathering information about Tim. She had her mental checklist ready, the questions she’d rehearsed in her head. But all of that went straight out the window the moment she bit into the first piece of bread. Every single bite was like an explosion of flavor in her mouth, the kind that made her eyes roll back slightly in bliss. The bread and butter alone–a classic, humble combination–had her melting. It was like tasting clouds of heaven, with a perfectly crisp crust and a soft, pillowy inside that felt like it was hugging her soul.
She was a goner, she realized. There was no way she was getting through this without being totally distracted. Tim had chosen the perfect weapon against her resolve: carbs. Delicious, glorious carbs. She was mentally preparing to fail this mission, already imagining herself coming back to the Batcave with bags full of bread instead of answers. Bruce would probably look at her with that disappointed dad glare of his and sigh, saying, “I understand. Try harder next time. But I understand.”
That is why all the girls in town
Snapped back to the present by Tim’s voice, she saw him holding out another piece of bread. “Try this,” he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “It’s tartine bread. My favorite.”
Steph took the offered piece, the moment almost reverent as she tasted it. It was even better than regular sourdough, with a rich, tangy flavor that danced on her taste buds and a texture that was somehow both crunchy and creamy. She let out a groan that was half-pleasure, half-surrender. “This friendship was a mistake,” she said, shaking her head but not meaning a word of it. “You’re gonna make me fat, Tim. And you know what? I ain’t even mad about it.”
Follow you all around
Tim laughed, a soft, genuine sound that made her smile despite herself. “It’s not my fault I know the way to your heart,” he teased, looking far too pleased with himself.
Steph couldn’t help but join in his laughter, the warmth of the cafe, the bread, and Tim’s easy company making it all too easy to forget why she was really here. For now, all that mattered was that she was having the best bread of her life and a surprisingly great time with Tim, even if he was possibly hiding a mountain of secrets behind that charming smile of his.
Steph had lost count of how many times she had to visit the bathroom, a consequence of trying every drink and indulging in all the delicious food Tim kept ordering. She couldn’t even feel embarrassed by it; she was too stuffed with happiness and delicious bread to care. Besides, Tim didn’t seem to mind or comment, and while he clearly had a better bladder than she did, she reasoned that it might’ve helped that he hadn't eaten quite as much as she did. Still, it was a testament to how comfortable this whole setup was. She didn’t even feel awkward leaving him alone.
Just like me, they long to be
When she returned from her latest trip, she found Tim sitting at the table in a relaxed pose, one leg crossed over the other, his attention focused on his phone. He was completely at ease, typing away with a small smile tugging at his lips. As she slid back into her seat, Steph couldn’t help but catch a quick glimpse of his screen before he could turn it away, the message still in view:
“Still hanging out with Steph. Dinner is ruined so probably don’t cook lol. Love you xx”
A reply came almost instantly, presumably from Jason: “Bring home some bread. Pantry out. Love you too.”
Close to you
Steph’s heart melted into a puddle of goo right then and there. She mentally cooed, screaming inwardly with a mixture of envy and delight. It was disgustingly cute, the kind of domestic bliss she’d always dreamed of but never quite found. Sure, she could spar with the boys at the Batcave and share a laugh with them over takeout, but this was different. She was getting an up-close glimpse of something rare and precious: a normal, loving relationship that wasn’t overshadowed by the chaos of vigilante life.
Trying not to feel too much of a third wheel, she forced a smile as she sat down, determined to be happy for her new friend. If she couldn’t have that kind of domestic romance herself, at least she could live vicariously through Tim’s adorably sweet texts and his obvious joy when talking about Jason. She took it back, maybe third-wheeling wasn’t so bad after all, especially if it came with endless bread and an inside look at a love story that seemed straight out of a fairy tale. “Who was that? Your dark shadow?”
Tim looked up from his phone, a little grin spreading across his face at her teasing. “Guilty as charged,” he said, not even trying to hide his affection. “It was Prince Charming, alright. He’s just checking in to make sure I’m still alive and not, you know, passed out from a food coma. Told him not to cook tonight. I don’t think I can eat anymore,” he said the last part while patting his stomach which did look like they were bulging out a little.
Steph laughed, leaning in like they were about to dive into the best part of a slumber party gossip session. Now that they’d devoured almost every sample on the table, she was ready for the real talk, the nitty-gritty details she’d been hoping to pry out of him since they sat down.
“So,” she continued with a playful nudge, “you mentioned you guys got together recently. I am officially jealous. Wish my first boyfriend was like yours, but oh well.” She tried to keep her tone light, though a hint of genuine regret seeped in. But more than that, she was dying to know what kind of guy managed to sweep Tim off his feet.
Tim laughed, shaking his head, but there was something more behind his smile–a hint of gratitude, like he was lucky to have found something he never thought he would. “Trust me, Steph,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially, “he has his quirks. But hey, if I’m stuck with anyone’s quirks, I’m glad they’re his.” He winked at her, and for a moment, it was like they were just two normal friends gossiping over coffee, with nothing more pressing than the trials and triumphs of romance.
Steph’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t help but grin at how adorably smitten he was. “Aw, Timmy! You’re gonna make me gag with how cute you are,” she teased, even though her voice was more envious than joking. “Seriously though, you two seem like you’re in a whole different league compared to the disaster dates I’ve been on. I mean, a guy who cooks ? And checks in on you like that? Where do I sign up?”
Tim’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, and he shrugged a little, clearly flattered by her interest. “I couldn’t even begin to look where. He found me, so I didn’t even sign up before I realized I was already… in it. It was like it was meant to happen. We just kind of… clicked, you know? One minute, we were friends, and the next–” he snapped his fingers. “He just made everything feel so easy, like I didn’t have to try to be anything I wasn’t.” His eyes softened as he talked, the words flowing naturally. “Honestly, he’s… he’s too good to me,” Tim admitted, almost shyly. “I keep waiting for the catch, but it’s just been… perfect.”
Steph’s eyes softened at that. “You really care about him, huh?”
“More than anything,” Tim said simply, his gaze flickering to the spot where the car had been before turning back to her with that saame honest sincerity. “He’s… he’s my anchor, you know? Like, the one solid thing I can always rely on.”
Steph nodded, a little envious of how sure Tim seemed to be about his feelings. There was so much she wanted to say, to ask, but she kept it light. “Well, I’m glad you have someone like that. And you’ve got me too now!” She grinned. “Just saying, I’m pretty great in case you didn’t know.”
Tim chuckled, a sound that seemed to brighten the room. “I’m starting to see that,” he said warmly, reaching out to give her hand a friendly squeeze.
Steph couldn’t help but lean forward, her curiosity bubbling up like steam from a fresh cup of coffee. She’d been trying to piece together this puzzle of Tim Drake ever since they’d first met, and now, as they sat across from each other in this cozy corner with Tim pouring his heart out, she figured it was her chance. “So, what does your Mr Fancy Pants do for work?” she asked, giving Tim a playful nudge. “He’s always dressed so sharp. Like, does he have some kind of James Bond thing going on or what?”
Tim gave a soft laugh, his finger twirling a lock from his bangs as if he was a bit shy about the question. “Or what… He’s in management,” he said with a casual wave of his hand. Steph raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
“Management, huh?” she repeated, clearly not convinced. “Well, whatever he’s managing, he must be really good at it to always look that put together.”
Tim smiled exasperatedly. “He oversees a lot of different things–logistics, negotiations, that kind of stuff. I promise you, he only dresses up like that for work. At home, he’s just as comfortable wearing ripped jeans and a ratty shirt with holes in it, and not the artful kind. He really doesn’t care.” Tim shrugged as if that down-to-earth confession was all there was to it, and Steph decided to let it go. But her curiosity hadn’t been satisfied yet.
“And what about you, Mr Mysterious? You dress pretty fancy too, like way fancier than any other guy I know at our age,” she pointed out. “Not to be nosey or anything, but seriously, what do you do? I mean, I’m like 18, just your regular old college kid trying to figure out my life, and here you are looking like you’ve got your whole life sorted out. Are you even my age? ‘Cause you look like you’ve already graduated from life school.”
Tim’s smile turned softer though he paused for a second, clearly choosing his words carefully, then continued, “Well for me, I guess I’m sort of… doing odd jobs here and there? I do consultations for interior design or contract work as a business analyst. Nothing too glamorous, but it keeps me flexible, you know?” He gave a small shrug, glancing down at the remnants of their sample platter. “And yeah, I’m your age. So, trust me, I don’t have it as together as it might seem. I’m just… good at faking it, I guess.”
Steph blinked, a little surprised by his honesty, then laughed. "Wow, okay, so you’re saying there’s hope for me then? I mean, you seem like you’re light-years ahead in the whole ‘adulting’ thing."
Tim chuckled, a touch of self-deprecation in his laugh. "Yeah, well, life kind of threw me into the deep end earlier than I expected," he said, his tone growing a little more serious. "So I had to learn how to swim pretty fast. A lot of it’s just bluffing until you make it, honestly."
Just like me, they long to be
He gave her a smile that was more genuine this time, a hint of something warmer in his eyes. "But hey, at least there’s good coffee and bread to keep us going, right?" He lifted his cup in a small toast to her, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a grin.
Close to you
Steph lifted her own cup in return, clinking it lightly against his with a smirk. "To good coffee, great bread, and faking it ‘til we make it," she said, laughing. "Seriously though, I’m still kinda mindblown by you, Tim. You’ve got this whole mystery vibe going on, like there’s a lot more to you than you let on."
Close to you
Tim gave her a look that was both knowing and teasing. "Well, I guess you’ll just have to keep hanging out with me to find out more, huh?" he said with a wink, and Steph couldn’t help but grin back, knowing that her little mission for Bruce had just gotten a whole lot more complicated—and interesting.
Close to you
Despite the oddities surrounding Tim and his seemingly intense relationship with Jason, Stephanie felt like she was on the verge of something good here–a real friendship. And she was determined to protect that, whatever it took.
Close to you
Steph’s arms were overflowing with boxes stacked high, the scent of freshly baked bread and pastries wafting all around her as she juggled her loot. “I’m officially a walking bakery,” she muttered, trying to balance the boxes in a way that wouldn’t crush the precious cargo. She was practically glowing with victory, knowing this arsenal of deliciousness would secure her a smooth way back to everyone’s good graces at the manor.
Tim’s laughter, clear like the sound of tinkling bells, rang out as he watched her struggle with the towering pile. “You sure you can handle all that, Steph? Looks like you’re one baguette away from disaster,” he teased, grinning at her expense. Before she could come up with a sassy reply, Tim gave a signal to Jim, who stepped forward with a knowing smile.
“Jim, be a gentleman and give her a hand,” Tim said, a fond look in his eyes. Jim nodded, easily taking the boxes from Steph’s arms like they weighed nothing–and they likely didn’t–before loading them into the taxi. Steph let out a dramatic sigh of relief, shaking out her empty arms as she laughed.
“Thank you! I overestimated my arm capacity for maximum bread holding,” she said, giving Jim a grateful smile before turning to Tim. “This was fun, Tim. We definitely need to do this again. Next time, I’ll try to pace myself so I don’t need to roll home in a bread coma.”
Tim laughed softly, giving her a little wave. “Deal. More foodie dates it is. And hey, don’t eat it all in one sitting, okay? Save some for your family,” he said with a wink before turning back towards the cafe entrance. Steph watched him go, still amazed at how effortlessly he seemed to fit into this world of Gatsby type glitz and yet still be grounded by kindness.
Close to you
Back at Wayne Manor, Steph all but burst through the doors, arms filled with her spoils. She headed straight for the kitchen, she Alfred was already waiting, his eyebrow arching in amused curiosity. “Good heavens, Miss Brown, what mountainous bounty have you brought upon us?” he asked, eyeing the impressive haul.
“I come bearing gifts! A peace offering,” she declared dramatically, setting down the boxes with a flourish. “I figured, what better way to earn everyone’s forgiveness for failing my sleuthing mission than with a truckload of carbs, right?” Alfred’s eyes lit up, and the corners of his mouth twitched into a rare smile as he began to unpack the boxes.
“This is quite the variety, Miss Brown,” he said, clearly impressed as he sorted through the pastries and loaves. “You’ve outdone yourself. I daresay, dessert tonight shall be exceptional.”
Steph groaned, patting her stomach with a rueful grin. “As much as I want to stuff my face even more, I think my appetite is officially ruined for now,” she said, then added with finger guns, “But give me an hour, and I’ll be back for round two with that bread.”
Alfred gave her a knowing nod, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “I shall hold you to that, Miss Brown,” he said with a touch of warmth in his voice. “And for this magnificent offering, I believe all can be forgiven.”
Dinner at the long, polished table in the Wayne Manor dining room was a comfortable affair, the warm glow of the chandelier casting soft light on the three of them. Bruce sat at the head of the table, his usual stoic demeanor slightly softened as he listened to Steph recount her day. Dick, seated across from her, leaned forward, his interest piqued as she animatedly described her outing.
“So, you went to this cafe in Old Gotham,” Dick prompted, a grin breaking through his usually chiseled features. “And instead of intel, you instead brought back home the entire bakery?”
“More like a bakery and a half!” Steph laughed, her eyes lighting up with excitement for the upcoming dessert. “I’m telling you, this place was a hidden gem! The warm lights, actually, it wasn’t just the lights, it was warm all over because they had furnaces in the back! But yeah, it was so cute, the food was good–food lover’s paradise! I tried so many kinds. There was this tartine bread, and I swear, it’s better than any regular sourdough I’ve ever had!”
“Sounds like you’re getting a bit carried away there,” Bruce said, raising an eyebrow, though the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement. “But I suppose you’d know what’s worth it.”
“Oh, it’s worth it, trust me!” she insisted, her enthusiasm infectious. “And the pastries! The chocolate croissants were flaky and warm, and the butter… oh my God, it was heaven! I could talk about bread all night.”
Dick chuckled, shaking his head. “You have this way of making even a loaf of bread sound like it’s a Michelin-star dish. Did you leave any for us?”
“Of course! I made sure to grab some favorites for you guys,” Steph said, grinning. “You should have seen me, though–like a kid in a candy store. I totally failed my mission to get intel on Tim because I was too busy stuffing my face.”
Bruce leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, an amused glimmer in his eyes. “And what intel did you manage to gather? You mentioned Tim’s boyfriend earlier, right?”
“Right! Jason, the man, the myth, the legend!” she said, nodding enthusiastically. “He didn’t stick around, but I caught Tim texting him at the table–they were so domestic together! Seriously, they’re adorable. It felt like I was a side character in a rom-com.”
“Not exactly professional spying there, is it?” Dick teased, smirking at her. “So, what’s the verdict on Tim? Any red flags?”
“Honestly? Not much,” Steph admitted, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “He’s got his act together, which is impressive for someone our age. And he really did admit he was just faking-to-make-it, so I think he’s really smart about what he’s doing at least. He has a passion for interior design and does gigs as a business consultant… That’s about it. Oh! The servers at the cafe treated him like VIP which kinda pings the Mystery Alert.”
Bruce nodded, absorbing her words, his mind racing with considerations. “Mysterious can be a double-edged sword. And if this boyfriend is as affluent as he seems, his clout might have extended to Tim. He might not be as innocent as he seems.”
“Come on, you have to admit that bread was a good bribe,” Steph interjected, rolling her eyes. “Just think of all the pastries I brought! And the best part? I’ll have plenty to share at the next family dinner.”
“That’s the real win here, I suppose,” Bruce replied, a rare hint of warmth creeping into his voice as he glanced at the plated desserts on the side. “Well done, Stephanie. Next time, just make sure you keep your eyes open and perhaps your mouth closed.”
“I will! But seriously, if you ever need someone to go undercover as a food critic, I’m your girl,” she laughed, excitement bubbling over as she recounted more about her day, specifically the cute server she saw at the cafe. Bruce and Dick exchanged amused glances while they indulged in the coffee and sweets she had brought home.
Summertime and the livin' is easy
The familiar rumble of an old pickup truck broke the silence of the night as it rolled up to the gates of Wayne Manor. Its headlights cast long shadows on the cobblestone path, cutting through the mist that settled over the estate. The truck paused at the gate’s code box, and a gloved hand in a red sleeve extended from the driver's side window. After a few quick taps on the keyboard, the gate swung open with a low creak, and the truck drove up to the service entrance of the grand manor.
Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high
The vehicle stopped, and out stepped a hooded figure dressed in a black mask and red jumpsuit. Their black boots crunched against the gravel as they moved to the back of the truck, retrieving a large cleaner’s kit on wheels. With steady hands, they wheeled it toward the kitchen entrance, slipping through the doorway as if they had done it a hundred times before. The soft hum of the manor’s security system acknowledged their presence–disarmed from within, thanks to the code they entered earlier.
Oh, your daddy's rich and your ma is good lookin'
Inside the kitchen, the figure barely glanced at the fallen butler lying unconscious on the floor. Alfred Pennyworth, the ever-vigilant guardian of Wayne Manor. The intruder’s gaze swept over him with a cold detachment before moving on without hesitation. Their true targets awaited them elsewhere.
So hush, little baby, don't you cry
The hooded figure made their way to the dining room, where the scene before them was almost comical. It looked like a dark parody of a family dinner gone wrong, each person slumped over in positions that bordered on absurd. The figure paused, taking it all in–the priceless expressions of Gotham’s most vigilant defenders, now rendered utterly helpless.
One of these mornings
Dick Grayson, Nightwing, Gotham’s golden boy, lay with one arm draped awkwardly over the table, his face nearly planted in the remnants of his meal. The elegant way he had collapsed made him look like a drunk Narcissus, fallen in love with his reflection on fine china.
You gonna rise up singin'
Bruce Wayne, the indomitable Batman, was slouched back in his chair, head tilted forward as though he had simply nodded off after a long day. His position would have been almost peaceful if not for the unnatural limpness of his posture.
Yes, you'll spread your wings
And then there was Stephanie Brown, Robin the Third, her face squished against a slice of freshly baked bread smeared with melted butter. Her position was the most ridiculous of all, her lips puckered against the bread as if she had fallen asleep mid-bite. A faint snore escaped her, cutting through the otherwise silent room.
And you'll take to the sky
Magpie let out a soft snicker that he couldn’t cold back. He slipped his phone from his pocket and began snapping pictures, capturing the scene from various angles. It was too good to miss, this tableau of Gotham’s finest, taken down not by brute force or a supervillain’s scheme, but by a simple drugged dessert.
Mm, but 'til that morning
He tucked the phone away, satisfied with his collection of blackmail material. Adjusting his grip on the cleaner’s kit, Magpie allowed himself one last glance at the fallen trio, his masked expression caught somewhere between smug satisfaction and a trace of regret.
“There is nothin' can harm you,” he sang under his breath, before turning on his heel and wheeling the kit deeper into the shadows of Wayne Manor. There was still work to be done, and the night was far from over.
Yes, with daddy and mommy standin' by
The world was a blur when the Batfam began to stir, the groggy aftereffects of a heavy sedative still weighing down their limbs and dulling their senses. Bruce was the first to come to, his instincts kicking in before full awareness reached him. Something was wrong–his head throbbed, and his vision was fuzzy, but even through the haze, he noticed immediately that something was missing. Or rather, someone.
Stephanie.
He forced himself to sit upright, ignoring the way his head spun and the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. The dining table, once filled with the remnants of their meal, was now bare, wiped clean of any trace that they had ever eaten there. In place of their dinner plates were a series of polaroid films, spread out like a mocking display of their vulnerability. Each photo showed them in various states of unconsciousness, slumped over like rag dolls.
Bruce’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing to slits as he registered what he was seeing. He reached out, snatched up one of the photos, and stared at it–the image of Stephanie, face smashed into a buttered slice of bread, was almost too absurd to be real. He shook his head, the pieces clicking together far too slowly for his liking, and then reached over to rouse Dick.
“Wake up,” Bruce said, his voice hoarse but insistent. He shook Dick’s shoulder, harder than necessary, and watched as his son’s eyes fluttered open with a groan.
“Wh—what’s going on?” Dick mumbled, rubbing at his face.
“Stephanie’s gone. And Alfred…” Bruce didn’t finish his sentence, a rare sliver of fear flashing in his eyes before he stood abruptly. Dick’s confusion turned to alarm as he shot up from his chair, following Bruce at a sprint to the kitchen.
They found Alfred slumped on the floor against the counter, his usually immaculate uniform disheveled from his position, his face pale and slack. For a terrible moment, both Bruce and Dick stood there, hearts pounding in their chests like war drums, fearing the worst.
But then Alfred stirred, his eyelids twitched, and he let out a groggy, “Master Bruce? What–what on earth?”
Relief washed over them, so palpable it brought them to their knees. Bruce placed a steadying hand on Alfred’s shoulder, his grip firm but gentle. “We were drugged,” he said, the words clipped. “You too, old friend. Can you stand?”
Alfred nodded, albeit shakily, and with their help, he got to his feet, a bewildered look on his normally composed demeanor. “I don’t recall a thing, sir. One moment I was preparing myself another cuppa, the next–well, here we are.”
Bruce’s expression darkened, his mind already racing through possibilities. “Everyone, to the Batcave. Now,” he commanded, and then pointed at the remaining bread and pastries on the counter. “We’ll bring those with us.”
Down in the cave, the atmosphere was tense, charged with the undercurrent of frustration and suspicion. Dick immediately stationed himself at the computer, his fingers flying over the keys as he accessed the Manor’s security footage. He rewound the feeds, combing through every second leading up to the moment they’d all blacked out, but every screen showed the same thing: blank frames where the footage should have been, as though the cameras themselves had turned a blind eye.
“Nothing,” Dick said, his voice taut with frustration. “Whoever did this wiped everything clean.”
Meanwhile, Bruce was hunched over the forensic station, his focus narrowed on the samples he’d taken from the bread and pastries Stephanie had brought with her. He ran every test he could think of, searching for any trace of toxins, sedatives, or unusual compounds. But each result came back the same: just bread and butter and dough, innocent and unassuming.
“Nothing,” Bruce muttered under his breath, slamming his fist on the counter harder than he intended. The thought of how they had all been so easily compromised made his blood boil.
Before he could launch another string of tests, Alfred’s voice cut through the air, a rare edge to his usually composed tone. “Master Bruce,” he called out, his voice urgent, “I believe you should see this.”
Bruce and Dick turned to where Alfred was standing, gesturing toward a corner of the Batcave. It was the area dedicated to Jason Todd–the shrine that housed the memorabilia of a life cut far too short. Only now, it had nothing.
Every trace of the second Robin was gone. The case that once held his suit, now stood barren, with not even a scrap of fabric left behind.
For a moment, the cave was suffocatingly silent. Bruce’s eyes were fixed on the empty display, his mind racing back to the polaroid photos, the missing footage, the flawless execution of the drugging.
“This isn’t just a random attack,” Dick said softly, breaking the silence, his face ashen with realization. “This was personal.”
Bruce didn’t respond. His eyes remained locked on that empty space, the weight of a thousand unspoken words pressing down on his chest. He knew, in his gut, that this was only the beginning–and whoever had done this wasn’t finished with them yet.