Um. Hi guys. I know I haven't updated in a while, and I''m really sorry about that. I don't want to pester you with excuses since it won't really help anything. Anyway, now that it's summer, I should be able to update my stories more often.
Enjoy the chapter!
Third Person POV
To say Jason was annoyed would be an understatement.
"That wasn't part of the plan!" He growled, pacing around.
"You never told me what the plan was!" Roy responded, trying to defend himself.
"We were supposed to wait until Dick woke up! Then we would 'torture' him and record his screams!" Jason yelled, throwing his arms in the air as he continued to pace.
Roy knew that Jason would never actually torture Dick. When he said torture, he meant tickling him. Apparently, the golden boy was very ticklish.
"We could wait?" Roy offered.
Jason stopped to stare at his friend, debating with himself.
"Fine." He sighed. "Change of plans, looks like this is going to take longer than expected."
- Back to Damian -
Damian was not in a good mood.
Looking across the cave, he observed the two detectives as they ran an analysis on the Santa hat.
That despicable Santa hat.
Damian wanted so badly to march over to it, burn it until it was nothing more than a pile of ash, then proceed to sprinkle its remains in the stupid Claus's face.
So it was safe to say that he hated that hat.
"There isn't anything suspicious about this hat." Tim sighed, standing up and sending a glare towards Damian.
Damian released a growl.
"Clearly, you haven't searched hard enough!" He fumed, stomping over to the table and looking through the results.
True to Tim's words, all results showed that there was absolutely nothing wrong with the hat.
"Damn this hat!" Damian screeched, bringing out a knife to slice it to shreds.
However, before he could, someone kicked the weapon out of his hands.
"That is enough!" Bruce ordered. "Clearly, you are not taking this well. Go to bed, we shall discuss things in the morning." He continued, leaving no room for negotiation.
Fuming, Damian made his way out of the Batcave and up to his room.
"Stupid Santa. Stupid hat." He muttered under his breath.
Slamming the door shut, he walked up to his katanna and began slicing it through the air.
As he continued cursing the 'jolly old fat man' his eyes caught a shiny object sitting on his bed.
Getting into a defensive stance, he scanned the room for any signs of an intruder, coming up blank once he had. Walking forward, he used the tip of his sword to pick it up, squinting when he realized that there were words on it.
"Santa was here?!" He read out loud.