Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Through the dark night, a cat chased a bat. Then the bat chased the cat. It was a game, a premeditated chase. The same one that had been going on for years. The cat would steal a diamond and the bat, more like a bird with a bat in its pocket, would follow it to take it away and return it to where it belonged. Whereas, once the bird, the robin, got it, the cat would run to get it back. 

There was something in the way that kept the chase from ending. It was constant, almost daily. A common nighttime sight to see. A mutual attraction that kept them together, but apart. The cat and the robin were like Romeo and Juliet, a love not allowed between feuding parties. For the cat was part of villainy and the robin of heroism. 

This time the cat was winning the race with a pretty ruby necklace in her hands. The blond hair shone in the moonlight and the glare was reflected in the orange glasses that covered his eyes and in the pretty silver trimmings of his costume, in the belt that hung down his back like a tail. 

"You're slow little bird," purred Stray, the thieving kitten. Trained by Catwoman herself in every art she knew. Including chasing down members of the bat family. "Maybe you're missing a little more action to get those muscles limbered up," he hinted with a wink. 

Robin, the robin with a metal bat in his pocket, picked up the pace until he caught Stray. He jumped on top of him and they rolled together across the roof they were running on. When they stopped, Robin was on top of him and their breaths collided from the closeness of their faces.

"Mmm, smoking ain't right, birdie. It feels good on you, though. I like it." And before Robin could add anything, Stray brought their faces together so that their lips collided in a kiss that the bird was quick to reciprocate. 

Wet lips and quickened breaths, shallow breaths and sliding hands clung to the backs of each other's necks. The kiss was long and lingering. The taste of mint and cigarette coming together. 

The necklace was soon in Robin's hands, but Stray was smiling contentedly. 

"I'm glad you caught me. Just for today, little birdie. My robin, mine alone," he murmured. 

Robin blushed and got up from on top of Stray. He stretched out a hand and helped Stray up. 

"I have to go."

However, he didn't leave until their lips chastely met again and Stray disappeared between the rooftops, like a black cat in the dark of night.

۵

"I need help," Stray said. No purring or meowing. He looked exhausted and not fresh and vigorous like every encounter he and Robin had. Robin didn't hesitate before asking him what was wrong, holding his shoulders for support and looking at him with all the affection he could convey behind a mask. "I did a robbery. A big one. And I don't plan to give back what I stole, but I need your help."

"What did you do, Bernard?" 

"I stole a child."

۵

"Okay, Bernard, you have to explain this to me," Tim demanded, taking off his eye mask and accepting the sweater Bernard held out to him. He took off the top of his Robin costume and put on the clothes he had been handed. Bernard was wearing his own green sweater and black sweatpants to match his worn dark gray sneakers. He also just finished dressing unabashedly in front of Tim after having climbed through the window into his room in the apartment. "Where's the child?"

"Well, yes, fine. I'll explain. Just sit down. She's in the other room, let me explain first."

Bernard sank his head into his arms and exhaled heavily, mopped his eyes and then looked at Tim. He looked exhausted and full of uncertainty, contrary to the confidence Tim was so used to seeing in the sneaky cat at night, more like the Bernard he fell in love with in high school before he knew Catwoman caught him following Robin across the rooftops and took him as her protégé.

"It's complicated."

"Go in parts, there's no rush," Tim reassured, taking a seat on the edge of Bernard's bed. He mimicked him.

"Cat and I were, uh, you know what, but we split up because she was, well, sorting things out with the sirens and your dad. Anyway, the thing is, we split up and there was a house I'd had my eye on for a while. Bad people, Tim, I promise," he justified to the boy's gaze. "A guy with like three families, alcoholic and abusive. I was planning to set him up and take advantage of taking some stuff from his black market collection. Jeez, Timmy, I swear he's got some red diamonds that... Yeah, I'm concentrating, sorry."

"I still don't see how that ended up with you kidnapping a kid."

"I stole it, it's different, I promise. Just, just listen to me, okay? Okay," he took a deep breath. "The problem is I came in at a bad time. He was hitting his wife, Tim, and I was about to intervene. But he was faster," his breath shuddered. Tim, concerned, slipped his arm over Bernard's shoulder and pulled him into a half hug. Bernard smiled unwillingly at him in appreciation. "I saw when he slammed her head against the ceramic, Tim, also when he panicked and ran."

Tim understood quickly and finally processed why Bernard's attitude and the exhaustion that approached him. He tightened the grip he had on the blond and rubbed his shoulder with his thumb. Witnessing a murder was certainly something that emotionally unsettled anyone.

"Did you call the police?"

Bernard nodded.

"They caught him before he got very far. But I found her first."

"You found her?"

Bernard opened his mouth to explain, but a knock on the door interrupted them. After a second, the door opened anyway and a small bluish eye peered through the half-open space. 

"Uhm, Mr. Bernard?" spoke a tiny voice barely holding the doorknob.

"What is it, sweetie?" said Bernard in a soft voice, stepping out of Tim's grip to approach the little girl. 

"May I know where the bathroom is? I need to go," she mumbled the last. 

"It's the side door, honey, do you need help?"

She shook her little head and disappeared, leaving Tim only to watch the swish of her long wavy brown hair.

"You found her," Tim sighed, this time in affirmation.

"Her name is Summer, but she prefers to be called Sunny," Bernard explained, with a nervous laugh, still asserting himself from the ajar door and with a guilty look on his face. 

"Bernard, you can't..."

"But I can!" he interrupted. Tim looked at him in frustration. "What I can't is let CPS take her away, Tim. You know better than that. Good kids get lost here in Gotham when they're taken away, you know it, I know it. It's common knowledge. I won't do that to her if I can help it. I told you! She almost saw her mother get killed, and maybe how much time she spent watching her father beat her, who knows if he did anything to her! And I looked into it, she has no one. I can't abandon her. But I need your help, Tim. Please," he pleaded.

Tim thought about it for a moment, pursing his lips and holding the bridge of his nose. He didn't know if he was being manipulated or if it was just his stupid feelings for Bernard acting up as he tried to make an analysis of the situation, as he was being unbiased and was really about to help his technically boyfriend out of this mess in whatever way he needed.

"What do you need, Bernie?" he finally relented. Bernard jumped on him and planted a rough kiss on his lips. 

"Papers. I need you to make it look like I adopted her by the right means."

Tim froze.

"Adopt?" he asked in horror. "What? Bernard, no. Absolutely no. We're twenty years old! I'll help you make sure you find him a good home, I'll study families for months if necessary, but adopt? You?"

The last word echoed in Bernard's mind, his face began to turn red with anger and he clenched his hands into fists after separating from Tim, walking backwards. 

"What do you mean 'you'? You don't see me capable of taking over another life, is that it? You don't trust me?" the last came out devastated. It was a simple word, but every single thing Tim did or said always had gigantic repercussions on Bernard.

"No, Bernard. You know what I mean... Your lifestyle..."

"Ah, now the problem is how I choose to live my life. It's never seemed wrong to you before, doesn't it seem hypocritical to complain now?" he snorted. He felt silly making a fuss, but it was something he really wanted to do and his boyfriend's support was the most important thing to him. If Tim supported him, he felt invincible. Without him, though...

"No, Bernard. No. I mean our life. The risks it carries, bringing someone into this, such a small life. You... you'd give up what you do to raise a child you barely know?"

"I know her well enough," he said this time in a flatter, more resigned voice. "We were staying at Cat's apartment, it's been days with her, Timmy. She's a sweetheart, you have to get to know her. You'll find I couldn't leave her even if I wanted to. Give her a chance. Give me a chance. Fall in love yourself and make a decision. Because if not for you, I'll find a way to keep her."

Tim sighed.

"Keep her... She's not a pet, Bernie," he said resignedly. He ran his hands through his hair, exhausted, and nodded. "Fine. Let's give it a try." 

And so the adventure began. A cat, a robin and a baby.

Chapter Text

After clearing up a couple of technical issues about the adoption and planning how they would use Bruce's contacts without him knowing, Bernard and Tim had a long make-out session interrupted only by Bernard going to tuck the baby girl in. They slept together the two of them in Bernard's room, with the blond hugging Tim from behind and him with one leg dangling over the edge of the bed. 

In that exact position Tim awoke in the morning, just after dawn. He opened one eye and was immediately startled. In front of him, a pair of little eyes and behind little hands were watching him intently, in stony silence and full of curiosity. 

"Shi... sushi," he stifled a curse. 

"Good morning," Summer whispered. She barely made it to the edge of the bed and her little head bobbed from side to side, humming, once she discovered Tim was awake. "It's Summer. Last night Mr. Bernard said you'd make breakfast. What's your name? Do you like seahorses? I like seahorses. They're... cold," she mumbled the last hesitantly, as if she didn't know if the word was the right one.

"Yeah... Yeah, they're cool", he said half asleep. 

Tim moved sleeping beauty Bernard's hand away from his waist and put his other leg off the bed, watching Summer at all times, who was following his movements intently with her eyes.

"Breakfast?"

"Yes, yes. I'll make breakfast... little girl."

"Sunny."

"Yeah, Sunny."

Tim walked to Bernard's kitchen, leaving him snoring alone in the room, with Summer following him like a duckling behind. 

Everything felt so weird. He was still processing Bernard's plans and his ideas brought up the night before. He didn't know how long it would take him to get used to a girl following him around (because her being around Bernard involved him as collateral damage, after all, an adopted daughter wouldn't keep him from the love of his life), however, he did know that he wasn't ready to behave like some kind of father, making pancakes and serving orange juice with Teletubbies on TV in the background. Not just a day after the little girl appeared in his life. It was all so chaotic.

"Okay, Sunny, what do you want for breakfast?" Actually, there weren't that many things Tim knew how to cook. He was used to Alfred, pizza, packaged food and a lot of healthy dishes that he was sure weren't good breakfast for a growing little girl unless he wanted to turn her into a fitness girl from the age of, what, five? So he paused. "How old are you, honey?" Now he thanked Bernard for getting him used to affectionate nicknames, he felt the need to sound softer when talking to the girl. Besides, as a plus it had served him well when dealing with small victims when he was as Robin. 

"Sunny's five!", she said, showing his left hand with all the fingers raised. "One, two, three, four, five! Five years."

"Wow, you are so good at counting!", he laughed softly.

Summer puffed out her chest with pride. A slight, honest smile escaped Tim's face. He was beginning to like Summer. Maybe, just maybe, he could get used to a new dynamic.

۵

By the time Bernard woke up, Summer and Tim were having breakfast together: fruit, juice, and chicken mayo sandwiches. Bernard joined them with a yawn. 

"Good morning, honey one, honey two." He took a bite of the chopped apple on the kitchen island where the other two were sitting. He gave Tim a kiss on the temple and patted Summer's shoulder. "I see you two are getting to know each other already."

"Yup! Mr. Tim makes the best breakfast in the world! It's the first time Sunny's eaten more than breakfast cereal."

Bernard gave Tim a look that hinted, again, that what they were doing was the right thing to do. Tim, on the other hand, inhaled deeply and tried to push away the thoughts that flooded him about a big empty house and cereal and milk for breakfast as the simplest thing a seven-year-old can prepare for himself when his parents are away and the babysitter is too idle to cook him anything more nutritious. He didn't want to see himself mirrored in Summer, his parents weren't trying to kill each other... most of the time. They were close to divorcing before his mother's death, but there were no blows. They couldn't compare. They shouldn't. 

Nevertheless. Suddenly he felt that helping Bernard wouldn't be wrong at all. It was the right thing to do.

Although there were a few things to work out between them before settling down. Their relationship was ambiguous, unstable. Could they raise children together like this? Did Tim really want to get involved in this challenge that Bernard had set out to meet? Yeah, no, there was still a lot to talk about.

"You don't have to call me mister, Sunny." Tim clarified. 

"So Timmy as Mr. Bernard says?" Tim frowned and glared at his almost boyfriend.

"Oh, yes, dear. Timmy is perfect." Bernard's eyes sparkled in amusement. Tim countered.

"And Bernie is better than Mr. Bernard, Sunny. You must call him that."

"Good!" Summer swung her dangling legs off the chair and poked an orange wedge with her fork. She hummed. "Aren't you going to sit down, Mr. Bernie?"

Great, now Bernard had a teddy bear name. Parenting was starting to get fun. 

۵

Parenting was not fun.

"Are you telling me she's been wearing the same thing since you stole her?" Tim inhaled and exhaled, trying to remain calm as he held his nose with his fingers. He felt frustrated.

"Can we please stop talking about her as my theft? Please? Fine. Yes, I don't exactly have a closet full of kid's clothes and no, I didn't steal her closet before I ran out of her mother's murder. Anyway, how are the adoption papers coming along?"

"Bernard. Don't change the subject... But they're going well, Oracle is fast. And she's keeping the secret for... a small price."

"Does it involve cross-dressing again?"

"Of course it does." Tim sighed. "Anyway, I've got a friend on the police force who came in on the case, he'll help me with the cover. Like he's been the one in charge of getting the girl to social services, taking her to a local church orphanage, before you adopted her. A mother at the convent will help with the cover."

"You have too many connections, Timmy."

"Shut up, Bernie. I'm helping you through this whole mess." He sighed louder this time. "What do we do? Summer needs a shower and clean clothes, Bernard."

"Cat bathed her earlier. We just need clean clothes before we, you know, bathe her."

And there they would have another challenge ahead of them. 

"I guess we have no choice." Exhaled Tim.

"Sunny!" called Bernard. "We're going shopping!"