PRESENT DAY
"Of course, Danielle, it's always wonderful to see your gorgeous face."
Dick kissed the top of the woman's hand, who giggled before walking away. Jacob, her husband, flashed him a teasing look.
"Better not get any smart ideas, Grayson, or I might have to talk to Bruce."
Dick chuckled, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. "Please, Jacob. We both know Bruce is hardly any better."
The older man let out a hardy laugh, patting Dick on the arm and exchanging a few more pleasantries before walking after his wife. Dick turned around, making his way back through the crowd with a ghost of a smile on his face. As he'd gotten older, Dick had come to almost enjoy all of the high-class events he had to attend. It meant he got to put on a show, shmooze around and flirt with pretty women in fancy dresses. He almost always got away with it too— he was one of the Wayne children, after all, everyone already expected it out of him.
He arrived back at the round table decorated in lavish gold arrangements, shining glasses filled with apple cider, and silverware that sparkled from the chandeliers above. He adjusted his suit jacket as he took his seat next to Damian, who was still sulking at the fact that Bruce had forced him to come.
"Liven up, Little D," he nudged the child's arm. "Some of the people here are actually fun if you get to know them."
Damian swatted his hand away, but it's not like Dick wasn't anticipating that. "Don't call me that, you imbecile. And unlike you, I have better things to do than socialize with fools. Everyone here is just hungry for father's money."
"You're such a joy to bring to a party," Tim commented from his place on the other side of Damian, not looking up from his phone.
Damian growled. "Tell me I'm wrong, Drake. This isn't even our city, we shouldn't care about their police department."
Dick was about to lecture Damian on the benefits of the Waynes being seen supporting the CCPD, but was interrupted by Bruce appearing from the crowd. He had on a fake smile, but Dick could tell that, like his youngest son, he wasn't a fan of being there either.
Bruce sat down and plucked his glass of what looked like champagne from the table, but they all knew it wasn't. It was always ginger ale— Bruce didn't drink. Something about "ruining his body" or whatever. But no one ever dared to question what was in playboy Bruce Wayne's cup, everyone just assumed the man loved to be drunk. "Damian's still pouting?"
"I am not pouting!"
"He's your son," Dick smirked. "What do you think?"
Bruce narrowed his eyes.
"What are odds are that Jason'll actually show this time?" Tim glanced up from his phone, interrupting Damian's probable temper tantrum. "For once, I need him to look at a case for me."
Dick shrugged. "Fifty-fifty."
"Doubtful," Damian scoffed. "Todd is scum. I don't want to be seen with him, anyway."
"Damian, don't say that," Bruce sounded like he was trying to be stern, but his attention was focused on the crowd of mingling people.
"Father, he's tried to kill you before."
"So have you."
Dick snickered as the small child huffed, crossing his arms and sitting back in his seat once again. Movement suddenly pulled Dick's eyes, and he noticed a man approaching Bruce. He looked oddly familiar, but Dick couldn't place his name. Bruce caught Dick's gaze, sitting up a little straighter as he prepared his playboy facade yet again.
The man— tall, with sandy brown hair and light eyes, tapped Bruce on the shoulder. Dick watched his adoptive father turn around with a pleasant smile, only for a startled look to wash over his features. Dick furrowed his brows. Bruce was never caught off guard.
"Devin?" Bruce's voice fell out of his usual charming and suave tone.
The man grinned. "Hey, Shortstack."
Dick's eyes widened. Shortstack? Who the hell refers to Bruce as short?
Bruce seemed genuinely surprised, which drew the attention of the rest of his brothers. "What are you doing here?"
"Hey, how are you, Devin? would be the appropriate response." The man gave Bruce a look that said they knew each other, but Dick wasn't sure how. He drew a blank when he racked his brain for anyone with his name.
Bruce rolled his eyes. Alright, so he definitely knew this Devin figure if he was comfortable enough not to be polished in front of him.
"What do you want?"
Devin gently hit the top of Bruce's head, disrupting his hair. "I'm looking for my sister."
Sister? Who could be his sister that Bruce would know?
Shockingly, Bruce's arm darted out and smacked the man's hand back before readjusting his own hair. Dick was stunned. In his nearly 25 years on Earth, he had never seen Bruce hit someone, even jokingly, at an event where he wasn't Batman.
"She doesn't attend things like this."
"Some technical issues happened with my parents' jet— they're stuck in Aruba for the weekend. Mom's bummed she's missing it, so she asked one of us to fill in."
"And she doesn't know you're here?"
"C'mon, Bruce," the brunette sighed. "You know Mare. If I told her I was coming in advance, she'd use it as an excuse to get out of her family obligations and sign me up for a weekend of press events."
Bruce took a sip from his glass, angling his body away from the other man which indicated he was finished with the conversation. "I haven't seen her."
The other man rolled his neck, either not noticing Bruce's body language, or not caring. He sat down in the empty seat which was supposed to be for Jason, who had yet to show. Devin snatched the tall glass from Bruce's hand and took a long swig.
"Ginger ale? That's lame."
Irritation flickered across the vigilante's face.
"Father," Damian sounded as curious. Dick knew Damian didn't like when anyone other than the small child was friendly with their father. "Who is this?"
Devin's gaze turned to Damian, and his eyes widened. He turned and slapped Bruce on the shoulder. "Hey, this is the new son, right?"
Bruce now was blatantly annoyed. "Boys. Devin Elias."
Recognition immediately clicked in his head. This was the eldest Elias child, who Dick had seen very, very sparingly throughout his lifetime of socialite events. Dick didn't know a ton about their family other than what he had learned from the media. The name Meredith Elias briefly floated around the Manor when he was younger, but Bruce usually shut down the topic before he could ask any real questions. Dick had always just assumed it was because their father Gregory had been friends with Thomas and that made Bruce uncomfortable.
Well, except for now, when Meredith was starting to get involved with the League. He tried to ask Bruce about that, too, but so far had received no comment.
Devin gave them a grin that was too genuine for someone at the party, and too happy for someone who was born in Gotham. "Uh... let's see if I can get this right. I know you're Dick, then there's... Jason? No, I think you're... Tim? Yes, Tim. And you're the newest kid... um..."
"Damian," the child snapped. "And how exactly do you know father?"
A smirk pulled at Devin's face and he slung an arm around Bruce's shoulders. "What, you mean Short Stuff? He's like my wittle bwother."
Damian seemed agitated and mildly disturbed by the answer. Any trace of the playboy was long gone as Bruce scowled. "Go away."
"Aw, Brucie, don't be like that," the man hummed, taking the arm around Bruce and ruffling his hair like one would a small child. Dick couldn't help but chuckle. Watching Bruce get babied was strangely entertaining.
Bruce put his hand flat on the man's chest and shoved him back. The chair unceremoniously slid a foot away, but Devin didn't seem deterred, or shocked in the slightest. Bruce once again fixed his hair, readjusted his tie, and stood up, trying to gain any semblance of composure. Devin was immediately out of his seat and grinning. Dick noticed the other man was two or three inches taller than Bruce.
The brunette took a hand and slid it from the top of his head, gliding it over Bruce's. Devin gave a faux pout. "Guess you still got some growing to do, Kid."
"Devin," Bruce growled. "Knock it off."
From what Dick could tell, Devin was now studying Bruce. His smile fell and his former amusement slowly disappeared. He looked confused, which made Dick's skin prickle with warning. That was never a good sign.
"Bruce," his voice was now soft, almost concerned. "What happened to your face?"
Dick widened his eyes and felt Damian stiffen next to him. Alfred worked tirelessly to ensure that no one would notice the damage on any of them caused by the Gotham underground. The Wayne's couldn't be seen looking like they'd just gotten in a fistfight the night before. But if Bruce was worried about the reasoning behind the question, he didn't show it.
"What."
The brunette reached out and pointed at Bruce's nose. "It looks like you broke it a few times. Your jaw's kinda fucked up, too. Have you been getting into fights or something?"
"Devin!"
A sharp, feminine tone pulled Dick's attention. He looked past the two men to find Meredith Elias herself, marching towards them in a silver gown.
The taller man turned and spread his arms wide. "There's my beautiful baby sis! How are—"
A hard slap was delivered across his face.
"You," the man groaned, caressing his cheek. "Nice to see you too, Mare."
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Meredith sounded enraged.
Devin apparently forgot about the violence he had just experienced. "What, you don't like my hair? I just got it cut, I thought it looked pretty g—"
"Shut up," Meredith demanded. "Why didn't you tell me you were in town? There's a fundraiser for EliasAir tomorrow and I would've signed you up to go if I knew you were here."
Devin chuckled. "Now, see, Meredith, I totally would've told you, but unfortunately, I'm busy doing anything but that tomorrow."
She scoffed, seeming exasperated, as she turned and noticed the rest of the table.
"Boys."
Dick smiled. Finally, he got to be involved in the conversation. "Ms. Elias. You look gorgeous, as always."
While he only just said it as a nicety to most women at events, he really meant it to her. Meredith was always stunning. Growing up, he was somewhat shocked Bruce had never tried to go for her. If Dick was her age he definitely would have.
She briefly upturned her lip before she looked to his brothers. "Tim."
"Meredith," Tim gave her what Dick knew to be his genuine smile. "How was Manhattan?"
Dick was taken aback. And judging by the look on Bruce's face, he was, too. How was Tim, of all people, on a first-name basis with Meredith Elias?
"Same old." The woman shrugged, stopping one of the waiters walking by with a tray of champagne and taking a glass. "By the way, I skimmed over the draft of your west coast expansion proposal— it looked well done. I was going to send you notes last night but I got distracted."
Tim waved his hand. "Take your time. I don't need it until next Tuesday."
It was all Dick could do but keep his mouth from dropping. He knew Tim spent a lot of time working for Wayne Enterprises— it was always an unspoken fact that Tim was going to take over the company once he was old enough— but he didn't realize the extent to which his younger brother was involved. Apparently, neither did Bruce, who kept a calm expression, but Dick could tell the man was fuming.
"I adjusted the presentation to account for Fernsby and Co," Tim explained. "I figured I might try to contact Trevor Fernsby himself, but I wasn't sure. I heard that he has a not-so-great impression of anyone from the East Coast conglomerates."
Meredith tilted her head at the mention of the West Coast billionaire. The way she raised her brow was almost amused, or maybe even proud. Dick wasn't sure which one.
"There's a man over by the bar." She paused to take a sip of the champagne. "Blonde hair, purple tie— CCPD Detective Blake Wordsall, otherwise known as the fiance of Carey Fernsby, Trevor's sister, whose opinion he happens to highly regard. Maybe you should consider talking to him."
There was a beat of silence.
"Right," Tim's face split into a grin as he nodded, standing up. He adjusted his red tie and fixed his hair as he started in the direction of the bar. "Thanks."
"Be concise," Meredith added, taking another drink.
"I will!" Tim called as he disappeared into the crowd.
Damian spoke before Dick had time to question anything. He was sort of grateful for that— Dick wasn't sure where to start, what to ask, or who to direct his confusion towards.
"You," the youngest child pointed a glare at Meredith. "I know you. I've seen you before."
She set down the now empty glass on the table. "Well, I'd assume so. I work with your father on occasion... Damian, is it?"
"It is." He stuck his nose up pretentiously, and Dick caught himself from rolling his eyes. "But that is not what I mean. You're in photo albums, in the study at the Manor. Many of them. Why?"
Meredith seemed mildly surprised. "I am?"
"She is?" Dick turned to Bruce, who looked borderline ready to hurt everyone in the conversation.
Damian cocked his head. "You appeared... more traditionally attractive with darker hair."
Silence.
"And you appeared more traditionally attractive when you weren't talking."
Damian hesitated, staring at the woman with a blank look. Dick assumed he was sizing her up, questioning how big of a threat she was to the small child. It's what he did when he was offended. Dick supposed he also should've been slightly angry at her for speaking to his youngest brother like that, but he wasn't exactly about to call out Meredith Elias. The woman seemed like she'd enjoy making him cry.
Damian finally smirked. "I suppose you're acceptable, Elias."
"Hm. Thank you for the reassurance."
Dick was shocked as the newest Robin stood up from his chair and clasped his hands behind his back. "Father, I am going to retrieve another one of the drinks you refer to as a Shirley Temple."
Damian strode away in the same direction Tim had gone, leaving the four adults at the table.
"Well, isn't he a spitting image of his father?" Devin had a smile on his face.
Dick huffed exasperatedly. "Alright, I'm sorry. I really don't mean to be rude, but, what's going on here?"
"What's going on here," Meredith began, ignoring his question and turning to Devin. "Is that you're going to talk to mom's friend Jaquelyn, who just walked in."
Her brother groaned. "Why me? No one even knows I was going to show up."
"Then it will be all the more pleasant when they're surprised. Besides, I have to waste my time tomorrow at the office fundraiser because of your failure to communicate. So go. Now."
Devin rolled his eyes, nudging Bruce with his elbow. "Try not to blow a gasket while I'm gone, Shortstack."
As he left, Bruce somehow managed to pull together his playboy act once again, apparently furious about Tim being friendly with Meredith. The only thing Bruce had ever really said to any of them regarding her was to try and refrain from socializing with her as much as possible. Which, come to think of it, Dick had really never questioned why.
"Meredith," Bruce spoke through a smile. "A word."
She narrowed her eyes. "Don't call me that. And I don't owe you any words. If you have a problem, take it up with Tim, who's an adult."
"Tim is seventeen."
"And I was nineteen when I took over my entire company. Sometimes he needs guidance, and obviously, you can't do that correctly, either."
Bruce took in a deep breath, but didn't need to say anything before Meredith's attention was already focused elsewhere.
"Clark!" she called into the crowd behind them.
Oh, there was no way—
None other than Clark Kent, the Man of Steel himself, turned around. He broke into a smile when he saw her. "Meredith!"
He pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose as he approached them. Dick watched him make eye contact with Bruce, and Clark's smile faltered. Dick almost laughed. He wasn't exactly sure what was happening, but Bruce couldn't catch a break and it was kind of very hilarious.
"And... Bruce Wayne!" Clark greeted, holding his hand out. "Clark Kent, Daily Planet."
Bruce returned the gesture, eyeing him with a knowing look. "I believe we've met."
"I believe we have."
"And I believe," Meredith interrupted. "That I owe you a conversation, Kent."
Clark chuckled nervously. "I... uh, believe you do. Um, how about I get you a drink?"
She waved her hand. "I know the bartender. On me."
She brushed past Bruce, Clark giving him an apologetic look as he followed the businesswoman off to the bar. Dick watched Bruce's fists open and close.
"So, care to fill me in on what the hell all that was?"
Bruce turned to him, narrowing his eyes. He then disappeared into the crowd. Dick sighed and sat back in his seat.
"Great," he muttered. "I just love being included."
* * *
"He's seriously that bad of a cook?"
Clark was doubled over the bar, shoulders shaking as he laughed. Meredith couldn't help but smile— the Man of Steel's charisma was infectious.
"I don't even know why I'm telling you this, Clark."
He sat up straight, cheeks slightly red. "I just can't believe you had to show up at his house at two in the morning to stop him from burning his kitchen down."
She rolled her eyes. "He was fourteen. I'm sure he's gotten better since then."
He gave her a questioning gaze.
"I mean, probably not, but let's assume he has so I can actually look at the man with a straight face."
Clark burst into laughter once again. She wasn't quite sure why he found stories about young Bruce so funny, but it felt like a bit of an accomplishment to get this kind of reaction out of Superman himself.
Off to her right, Tim chatted up Detective Blake Wordsall, who appeared enthralled with the teenager. She had to admit, she was almost proud of Tim. He had come to her when he first developed an interest in Wayne Enterprises, and she didn't need much convincing to take the boy under her wing. After all, she started running Elias Incorporated at the ripe old age of nineteen, so she knew the stress he was under to do things correctly. Plus, Tim was surprisingly pleasant, and when she couldn't get a hold of Bruce, she usually turned to his son, who was more than happy to give her information.
Tim caught her eye and his smile brightened a little. She turned her head down in a nod. Good job.
Clark sat back up again, finally catching his breath. He pulled the bartender over and asked for another water. "Oh my goodness, I didn't know Bruce was such... such a moron."
She shrugged. "He was an adrenaline junkie growing up."
"Makes sense," Clark snorted.
"What do you mean?"
He paused for a second, the way he always did when he mentioned Bruce currently. "Once an idiot, always an idiot, you know?"
She chuckled. "I suppose."
There was a silence.
"So," he got cut off by the bartender putting a fresh glass of water on the counter. Clark thanked him. "Why aren't you and Bruce friends anymore? It sounded like you two were close as kids."
It was her turn to pause. That was a story she wasn't really interested in telling. Or thinking about. Or referencing that it even happened. It was just better to forget— it had taken her this long to move on, and she didn't plan on getting wrapped up in Bruce again anytime soon. Talking about childhood memories was bad enough, but Clark's incessant laughter was a nice reward. She took a sip of her second champagne of the night. "I don't really want to be sitting here for the next two days, Kent."
He seemed to understand what she was getting at. "Ah. Bad blow out?"
"Something like that."
"Hey, I finally got away from Jackie. Jesus, I forgot how that woman can talk."
Meredith suddenly found Devin leaning against the bar, ordering some fancy concoction that she didn't bother to remember. He always had a knack for expensive alcohol.
Devin suddenly noticed the other man. "Oh, who's this?"
"Devin, Clark Kent. Clark, my brother, Devin." Meredith gestured between the two.
"Nice to meet you," Clark smiled. "Meredith told me about you a while ago."
The bartender placed a light blue drink on the counter. Devin picked it up, flashing Clark a grin. "So I'm assuming you have a horrible first impression of me then?"
Clark chuckled. "Don't worry, I didn't get to hear much."
Devin gave Meredith a curious look, and she rolled her eyes. Leave it to her brother to assume that any man she wasn't at a conference table with was her new boyfriend.
"We're friends from work."
"Right..." Devin sounded unconvinced.
"Devin Elias?"
The trio turned around, finding a blond man staring at her brother incredulously. Meredith would admit, the man was attractive, especially in his suit. All of the men surrounding her that night seemed to be.
"Barry Allen!" Devin left his drink on the counter, approaching the man with his arms wide, and embracing him in a tight hug.
The man known as Barry laughed as they separated, slapping Devin on the arm. "Dude! It's been, like, a million years! How's everything? How's Miami? Shouldn't you be surfing right now?"
Meredith was officially suspicious. Barely any people actually knew that Devin now lived in Florida, and even less knew that he was an avid surfer.
"Competition was canceled this weekend," Devin sighed. "Tropical storm. That's why I decided to show up."
"Ah, man. Bummer." Barry glanced at her and Clark. "Oh, hey, Clark. And you must be Meredith, right?"
She flashed him a fake smile, leaning towards the Man of Steel. "For a farm boy reporter, you sure know a lot of people here. Bruce Wayne, now this guy, what's up with that?"
Clark chuckled, lowering his voice. "Just like you said, I'm a reporter. I get around."
"Barry and I used to be pretty tight back in the day," Devin interrupted, ushering the blond into their small group.
"Really?" Meredith sipped her champagne. "I've never heard of you, Barry. No offense."
"Eight years ago is hardly, 'back in the day,' Dev." Barry rolled his eyes. "I'm a forensic scientist for the CCPD, I met Devin... on a case I was working on a few years back."
"Yeah, a case." There was a twinkle in her brother's eyes, one Meredith knew he only got when he was up to no good. She furrowed her brow.
"So, how do you two know each other?" Devin glanced between Barry and Clark.
There was the pause again. The same pause that Clark had when mentioning Bruce. Meredith set down her glass. There was something strange going on among the three men. She glanced at Clark, who was staring at Barry, almost as if he was waiting to see what the blond's answer would be.
"He's a friend from work," Barry finally said.
Clark nodded in agreement, seeming somewhat relieved, but Meredith knew that excuse. After all, she had just used it on her brother to explain how she was familiar with Clark. Barry was lying.
"You work for the Planet, too?" Meredith asked, knowing very well that wasn't true.
"Wait, wait, wait. Hang on." Devin turned to Barry, cocking his head and narrowing his eyes. "What work exactly? Like, work? Or, work work?"
She stared at her brother like he was crazy. Something definitely was going on, and Meredith didn't enjoy being out of the loop. "The hell is work work?"
The pause happened again. It was one of those moments where her brain reverted back to a six-year-old and she wanted to stomp her foot. What was this goddamn pause?
Devin gasped, spinning around on his heel to face Clark.
"You're Superman?"
A lot of things occurred at once. Meredith's eyes widened, Barry's hand flew over Devin's mouth, shushing him, and Clark went rigid. How on Earth did Devin, who barely showed up to see his own family, much less attend social events, figure out the identity of Superman? And who did that make the blond guy?
For the first time, she genuinely thought back to what she knew about the members of the Justice League. How would he figure out Clark, if this Barry figure wasn't one of them? That was the only theory that made sense to her, but none of the Leaguers were blond.
She studied the blueness of his eyes, the way his frame filled out his suit, and his narrow jawline. He was lean, so she ruled out Batman. Probably not Green Arrow, who was stalkier and broader chested. He clearly wasn't a half robot. She already knew who Superman was. Green Lantern was a brunette, and Wonder Woman was an obvious no. So that only left—
"Flash," she spoke, furrowing her brow. "Aren't you?"
Barry looked like he'd seen a ghost. His eyes flitted over to Clark. That explains the constant glances and vague answers the two shared.
Devin cringed, switching frantically between the three of them. "Shit, uh, I didn't know that Mare didn't know who everyone was. I just figured, ya know, the media said she's working with League now, I-I just assumed—"
She narrowed her eyes. "You know who everyone is?"
"Not everyone!" He held his hands up in defense. "Barry saved me once a while back, that's how we met. And... I guess I now know Clark, too."
Clark and Barry both turned to the older man with the same expression.
"Uh, sorry, guys."
She faced the blond. "So you're really Flash?"
"Guilty." He glared at Devin. "Nice to see you again, Meredith. By the way, Clark and I were both a fan of your proposal on Wednesday."
Clark huffed, lowering his voice once again. "Can we not all scream it out loud? And Meredith, do us a favor and don't mention this at the next meeting."
"Oh, man," Barry groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Batman's gonna kill us."
"Batman... he... wouldn't, by chance, happen to be here, too, would he?"
Meredith turned to Devin, who looked mischievous. While she usually took her brother for a moron, he was hardly anything but. A happy-go-lucky Floridian surfer, sure, but he was still an Elias. No one in her family was dumb. "What, are you taking it upon yourself to figure out all of their identities now?"
He looked at her. "I'm surprised you're not. You are the one working with them."
Suddenly the temperature dropped. She paused, looking at the three men, who seemed equally confused. The room started to become freezing. She glanced down at her empty champagne glass, where ice now crackled along the edges. She would've assumed it was an air conditioning malfunction, but frost was developing too quickly for that to be true.
The rest of the party started to notice too, the live music coming to a halt and the crowd stopping their chatter. Everyone stared at each other. Frost started to develop on the windows, creeping along all of the bottles behind the bar.
"What's going on?" Meredith questioned. It was slightly reassuring to know that she had two members of the Justice League next to her.
"I... don't know," Clark muttered, glancing around.
"I think it's—"
Even for the fastest man alive, Barry didn't have time to finish his sentence before the doors to Central City Hall exploded.
* * *
Okay, I decided on posting two chapters today for you lovely readers, since I've been gone for so long. How are you liking this story so far? I'd love to hear! Hope you enjoy!
xo Alexa