EvieNorville

Victoria’s killing a bit of time in the main foyer before her shift starts one day when the two of you arrive. 

Dennis pulls the door open for you, as usual, holding it while you walk inside. He does the same with the inner door, despite having to speedwalk in order to get there before you. She notices that he’s carrying your backpack, the strap slung over the opposite shoulder from his own. He reaches out as you walk towards the elevators, fingers pinching the side of your shirt, gently pulling you closer to him. It’s subtle, and Victoria’s certain she’s the only one who notices that your hands now brush against eachother’s as you move. 

“You coming up?” You ask, reaching forwards, hitting the button. 

He checks his watch, then nods. “Still got time.”

You bite back a smile as you step into the elevator, doors closing behind you, blocking you from Victoria’s probing eyes. The ICU floor is much quieter than the ED, especially since it’s still early, most of the patients still sleeping as the hospital starts to wake up. You swipe your badge against the sensor, and then step through the double door together, like you always do. 

Dana’s standing at the central desk when you come in, talking to the charge nurse there, trying to get some boarders moved before dayshift officially takes over. She clocks both of you immediately, her sentence coming to a stop when she hears your soft laughter. She turns around, watching as you approach, smiling at her. 

“Dana,” You greet. “Are you finally leaving the ER to join us up here?”

“You wish,” She says, looking past your shoulder, where Dennis is waiting a half-step behind you. “Whitaker, fancy seeing you here.”

The ICU charge scoffs, laughing a bit. “What do you mean? He’s up here every morning.”

Dana raises an eyebrow, a tiny smirk on her face. “That so?”

He shrugs, cheeks flushing a light shade of pink, both bags on his back lifting with the motion. “Pretty much, yeah.”

You, wanting to save him from any further embarrassment, turn around and give him an opening. “I can take my bag, you can head downstairs.”

He frowns, shaking his head. “I got it, I’ll be right back.”

He walks over to the locker room, his figure disappearing through the door. One of the nightshift RT’s comes out of a room, and Dana doesn’t miss the way his eyes light up at the sight of you. He ignores everyone else at the desk as he approaches, saying your last name with way too much enthusiasm for six-thirty in the morning. 

“You should’ve seen this patient last night,” He starts, diving into the story as soon as your eyes are on him, a small smile on your face as you genuinely listen. 

Dennis comes back out of the locker room just as he takes your wrist in his hand, turning your arm so your palm faces the ceiling, gesturing to your forearm as he explains the IV situation the patient had. He mimes the action of fluids spewing, retelling the moment it came loose as he was in the middle of intubating. 

Your face scrunches, but you’re still smiling, and he’s pretty sure you say ‘oh, gross!” before slowly pulling your arm away, tucking both hands into your pockets. He comes up behind you, setting your stethoscope and water bottle on the desk. The other RT loses all steam at the sight of him, and he immediately takes a step back, stuttering over his words for a second. You feel a single finger twist into your waistband, making you look over your shoulder, seeing Dennis and your belongings. 

“Thank you,” You say, fully spinning around. He drops his hand back to his side, nodding. 

“Yeah, uh, no problem,” He says. “I’ll see you later?”

“Hopefully,” You say. “Good luck down there.”

“You too,” He says, then he heads back through the doors and down the hallway. You loop your stethoscope over your shoulders and put your water bottle by your workstation before returning to the nightshifter, a tablet in hand now. 

“Catch me up,” You say, the rest of his story long forgotten. 

Dana follows Dennis out, still smirking, putting both hands on his shoulders as she comes up beside him. 

“You’re a sweet kid, you know that?"

Around eleven that morning, the higher-ups send donuts down to the ED as a ‘thank you’ for all their hardwork. Robby’s in the breakroom when Dennis walks in, admiring the spread, trying to decide if he actually wants one or not. 

“Anything good, boss?” He asks, stepping closer to the tables, looking for something specific. 

Robby shrugs. “Would be nicer if they could just pay my staff what they deserve.”

“Oh, definitely,” Dennis says, spotting what he’s looking for, grabbing one of the napkins nearby. “Gotta’ take advantage though, right?”

He picks up a donut, setting it neatly on top of the napkin and putting it down on the table. He opens the fridge, pulling out his lunch and unzipping the bag. Robby watches as he places it on top of whatever’s in there, then puts it back in the fridge, brushing his hands off and closing the door. 

“Worthy of saving for later?” Robby asks, slightly teasing. Dennis lets out a small laugh, already halfway out the door. 

“Yeah, uhm, trying to be optimistic about getting a break today,” He jokes, stumbling over the words. He’s still getting used to joking around with his boss.

Robby shakes his head, following him back outside. “Oh, you know better than that by now, Whitaker.”

They step out just as the ambulance bay doors open, revealing two paramedics wheeling a gurney in. They both rush over as Dana directs them to an open trauma room, examining the patient while one of the paramedics gives handover. 

“Twenty-three year old male, motorcycle versus guardrail,” She says. “Helmet off at the scene, significant facial trauma, breathing on his own for now, but it’s not pretty.”

They swing the door to the trauma room open. Nurses flood in behind them, taking their usual spots around the room, clicking monitors on and hooking them up to the patient. 

“Hey, can you open your eyes for me?” Dennis asks, shining his penlight into them when he gets no response. “Pupils equal and reactive, GCS six.”

“Sats eighty-seven and falling,” Mateo says. 

“Bag him,” Dennis instructs, setting his stethoscope against his chest, moving it around. “Decreased breath sounds bilaterally.”

“This is gonna’ be a complex airway,” Frank says, having come in a moment after them. “Let’s get respiratory down here.”

You’re adjusting some vent settings for one of your patients when your pager goes off, making you pluck it off your scrub pocket, glancing down at the tiny screen. 

EMERG. DEPT. TRAUMA #3 - STAT PAGE

You shove the pager back into place, already running out of the room, calling for the other RT on shift to finish with your patient as you fly by. You take the stairs down to the ED, shoving the door open at the bottom, gripping your stethoscope in your hand so it doesn’t fall. You grab a pair of gloves before opening the trauma room door, trying to assess the situation as best you can in a few seconds. You can’t even see the patient from how many people are in there, crowding around the bed. 

“Sats down to seventy-nine,” Perlah says. Garcia already has sterile gloves on, holding her hands up and shaking her head as she looks over Dennis’ shoulder. He’s holding the laryngoscope, watching the monitor, trying to get a good view of the anatomy. 

“We need to crike,” She says. 

“Woah, hey, I’m here, what’s going on?” You say, grabbing a gown, shifting towards the head of the bed. You look towards the patient’s face, or what’s fucking left of it, exhaling sharply. “Jesus.”

“Motorcycle versus guardrail,” Frank says. “His jaw’s completely unstable, we couldn’t get a seal with the mask, he’s bleeding like crazy.”

“Move, please,” You say, kind but firm, needing to get a closer look. Dennis pulls the tool out, stepping back, his hands up so they don’t get caught on any of the IV lines. Mateo holds the suction as you do your exam, running through options in your head. He’s already using the biggest suction that he can, and the patient's sats are still falling. 

The room seems frozen around you as you think, everyone waiting on your next move. You nod to yourself when you decide on the best course of action, a small way to hype yourself up. 

“I’m going in through the nasal passage,” You say.

“Blind?” Frank asks. “That’s-”

“No, not blind,” You correct. “I need a lubricated three-point-five.”

The tube is placed into your hand five seconds later. “I’m gonna’ try and advance just past the tongue, see if I can use it as a guide.”

You glance up, making eye contact with Frank, then Robby, waiting to see if either will object to your plan. Robby gives you an affirmative nod. 

“Do it.”

You look to Dennis, who’s already watching you. “Could you listen for breath sounds please, Dr. Whitaker?”

“Oh, Dr. Whitaker,” Garcia repeats. “Is that what you call him in the bedroom?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You shoot back, smirking. 

“Behave,” Robby says, but you don’t need to look at him to know that he’s fighting a smile. Dennis gets into place as you use your free hand to put your own stethoscope in, settling the diaphragm against the patient’s neck, moving it around until you hear what you’re looking for. Then, you slowly advance the tube through the nostril, eyes flicking towards the chest every few seconds to check for rise. 

You start to get some resistance at fourteen centimetres, and the chest twitches. You hear a small amount of air pass.

“Minimal movement,” Dennis says, focusing on what he’s hearing. 

“Bag it,” You instruct, and Jesse does, squeezing. The patient’s chest rises again, and Dennis looks back at you, nodding, confirming that he can hear at least some remnants of breath sounds. 

“Sats up to eighty-five,” Perlah announces. 

You shine your penlight into his mouth, studying the passage that the nasal tube is barely revealing, committing the location of his tracheal opening to memory each time the suction clears enough blood for you to see it. 

“I can intubate now,” You say.

“Are you sure?” Frank asks, taking a look himself, seeing nothing but blood and a small clearing where the tube sits. “You still can’t visualize most of the landmarks.”

“I don’t need all the landmarks,” You counter. “Do you want a real airway or not, Dr. Langdon?”

Dennis’ breath catches in his throat, eyes wide. You’re looking at Frank expectantly, waiting for a decision. He steps back, nodding. Garcia smirks, speaking before he can. 

“Blade to hot shot, please.” You take the tool in your hand, turning on the light and sliding it into place. You don’t bother looking towards the monitor, knowing that you won’t be able to see where you’re going. 

“Seven tube,” You say, reaching for it once it’s passed over, positioning it where the nasal tube already sits. You wait for the suction to expose the clearing again, not hesitating when it does, sliding the tube into the airway. You’re almost certain that it’s in the right place based on how it feels as it clears the epiglottis. “I’m in.”

The cuff is inflated, and Jesse moves the bag from the nasal tube onto the new one, nodding. “Yellow on end-tidal.”

“Good breath sounds bilaterally,” Dennis adds. 

“Sats up to ninety-four,” Perlah says. The tension in the room fades as you look at Dennis, failing to contain a grin when you make eye-contact. He gives you a tiny, proud smile and a subtle nod, silently saying ‘nice work.’

You don’t realize that everyone else catches it, too. 

“I’ll get him up to CT,” Garcia announces. “Glad you were here, hot shot.”

“Excellent work,” Robby says, followed by your last name. The patient is wheeled out of the room, and you’re all left behind, pulling off gowns and gloves. 

“Thanks,” You say. “It’s what I’m good for.”

Dennis holds the door for you as you leave, exhaling once you’re out. Frank holds his fist up. 

“Sorry for doubting you,” He says. You smile, tapping your knuckles against his. 

“No harm, no foul,” You insist, waving him off. The adrenaline of the trauma starts to wear off as you move towards one of the computers, wanting to get the charting out of the way before you go back to the ICU—as long as none of your patients crash. Goosebumps splinter over your arms, despite the long-sleeve you’re wearing under your scrub top, making you shiver. 

Dennis is shrugging his fleece off before you even sit down, handing it to you, already focused on the board to figure out where he should head first. He’s about to walk away when he remembers, spinning back around and leaning towards you over the desk. 

“Oh, hey, there’s something for you in my lunch,” He says, voice quiet, but everyone in the vicinity hears him. They started watching the second he passed you his jacket without a single word. “You can grab it before you head back up, if you want.”

You close your hand around his fleece, trying to get your brain to function again. All work is abandoned by the people around when, for the first time possibly ever, you’re speechless. Not because this is unusual behaviour, just because he’s never done it so…publicly before. 

“Okay,” You finally say, the single word breathy and faint. “Thank you.”

Everyone is staring at the two of you like it’s their favourite TV show. 

“Yeah, ‘course,” He says.

He walks off, you take a seat, pulling the fleece over your head and sticking your badge to the front pocket before logging on to the computer. Your heart is racing, but you do your best to hide it from your colleagues.

“You ever wonder how they ended up together?” Frank asks, watching the interaction from afar, the question aimed at Mel, who has no idea what he’s referring to.

“Who?” She asks, barely looking up from her tablet. 

“Whitaker and Hot Shot,” He clarifies. Mel looks up now, still confused. 

She says your real name like it’s a question. Frank nods. 

“Yeah, Hot Shot,” He emphasizes. 

Mel shrugs. “I didn’t know everyone called her that, I thought it was just Garcia.”

“Doesn’t matter,” He says, moving on. “Labs back for twelve yet?”

Trinity comes back into the department twenty minutes later, having gone outside for a breather, stopping just behind your chair as she walks by. She squints, realizing that you’re definitely wearing Whitaker’s quarter-zip, the one he wears pretty much every single day once it starts getting colder. She goes straight to Victoria, who’s talking to Cassie while they wait for one of their patients to get back from CT. 

“He gave her his fucking fleece,” She says, eyes drifting towards you. Victoria and Cassie look over. 

“Oh my god, that’s so cute,” Victoria says, pouting slightly. “He’s so sweet to her.”

“Have you seen her?” Trinity asks, rhetorical. “He’s got to be in order to keep her around.”

Cassie raises an eyebrow. “I think it’s probably just because he loves her.”

“Or he knows he’s punching above his weight,” Trinity counters. “I love the kid, but she’s practically a supermodel.”

“Well, maybe that’s what drew her to him,” Victoria suggests. “You know, she’s so used to people tripping over themselves to impress her, maybe she liked the fact that he doesn’t make a fool out of himself to get her attention.”

Trinity thinks about that for a second, cocking her head slightly as she looks at you. “Huh. Never thought about it like that.”

“Has no one considered the idea that she just thought he was attractive?” Cassie asks. “He’s a good looking guy!”

Victoria shrugs. “Doesn’t matter either way, they clearly love eachother.”

You barely even realize that your head’s starting to hurt before a pill cup and your favourite donut are placed on your desk. You tug your eyes away from the screen, almost done with your charting, blinking a few times to clear your fuzzy vision. There’s two ibuprofen tablets in the cup, and you see Dennis standing beside you, holding his water bottle out. Robby watches from his workstation a few feet away, smiling, remembering how he watched Dennis set that donut aside a couple hours ago. It wasn’t for him, it was for you. 

"Headache?" He asks.

“How…?” You ask, taking the bottle from him and opening the lid. 

“You’re blinking more than usual,” He says, as though anyone would’ve picked up on it.

“Oh,” You say. “Yeah, it's not too bad, though. Thank you.”

You take the pills and a few extra sips of water before passing it back to him. He sets it on the counter, folding his arms over his chest as he leans back. 

“You should eat something,” He suggests. 

You nod. “I’ll eat this in one second, thank you so much, Denny.”

Robby looks towards Dana, mouthing ‘Denny?’ to her, and she mouths ‘I know!’ back. 

Dennis nods, taking a seat at one of the computers across the hub. You finish your own charting a few minutes later, standing up and walking over to one of the nearby sinks, washing your hands thoroughly. You pick up the donut when you get back to the desk, tearing it in half, holding one side out towards him. 

He’s so wrapped up in his work that he barely glances up when he takes it, then he does a double take, brows furrowing before he looks at you. He’s about to protest when you give him a look, one that let’s him know that you’re well aware he hasn’t eaten since his shift started. He keeps his half raised up, tilting it towards you, and you tap your own portion against his. You both take a bite at the same time, and Princess raises an eyebrow. 

“Did they just…cheers with a donut?” She asks. 

“You haven’t seen ‘em do that before?” Dana asks. “They do it with everything—granola bars, apple slices, sandwiches. It’s sweet.”

“I saw them do it with goldfish once,” Mateo says, spinning around in his chair to face them. “Pretty sure they made them kiss.”

You stretch your arms above your head a few minutes later, leaning against the back of your chair. A few people glance over, hoping to get a glimpse of something, but Dennis’ fleece keeps everything covered. You gather a portion of your hair in your hands, reaching towards your wrist for a hair tie. 

It snaps when you go to loop it around, making you frown.

“Ow,” You murmur, dropping your hair. Victoria goes to offer you a new one, but she’s cut off by Dennis pulling one off his own arm, slingshotting it across the hub, a solid twenty feet or so. You catch it in your palm like it’s second nature, sticking it between your teeth, smoothing your hair back again. 

She malfunctions for a second, trying to see if anyone else witnessed that. Most people have gone back to work, eyes focused on screens or notepads, including Dennis. 

“I…how did you do that?” She asks. 

Dennis doesn’t even look over. “Do what?”

“The—the hair tie thing,” She stutters. He shrugs. 

“She’s always losing them,” He says, as if that remotely answers her question. She’s close enough to see his screen, catching a new secure chat rise to the top of the list that he’s working through answering. It’s your first and last name followed by ‘RRT,’ the profile photo you in scrubs, standing against a white wall.  

heading back up

She glances over at you, still sitting across the hub. You’re looking at your computer, scanning some new orders for your ICU patients, face neutral as you mess with your necklace. She looks back at Dennis’ screen. 

He signs the note he's working on before opening the conversation. 

Come here a second

You log off of the computer, pick up your stethoscope and walk over to him. It’s casual—comfortable. His hand lifts from the keyboard once you’re close enough, reaching over and flipping the collar of his fleece out from where it’s folded in on itself. You raise an eyebrow as he pats it twice, the simple touch of his palm to your collarbone intoxicating. 

“How long has that been bothering you?” You ask, teasing and quiet. The volume has picked back up in the department, so Victoria shuffles a bit closer to try and hear the conversation. 

He pretends to think, glancing at his watch. “How long ago did you put it on?”

You laugh under your breath. “I didn’t realize I was causing you such distress.”

“Yeah, you should probably be more careful,” He says, the corner of his mouth twitching up, but his eyes are wide with concern. “Are you warm enough? I think I have a long sleeve in my bag if you want it.”

You do want it, but not because you’re still cold. 

“No, I’m okay, thank you,” You say, trying to get your feet to move, but his presence is sucking you in. You’re tempted to wedge yourself into his side, knowing that he’d probably respond automatically, arms wrapping around you and his lips brushing your temple like they would at home. 

“Okay, just come grab it if you change your mind,” He says. Your pager beeps from your pocket, and you grimace, face scrunching up in disappointment. 

“I will,” You say, checking it quickly before putting it back. You’re still hesitating, not taking a step away from him. He smiles. 

“Go,” He insists, softly. “They need you.”

You look at him for another second, pursing your lips. “Yeah, alright, going now, Dr. Whitaker.”

Victoria’s eyes widen as she rereads the same line on her tablet for the millionth time. A blush blooms on Dennis’ neck, and he brings a hand up to try and cover it immediately, his blue eyes following you as you get closer to the doors, filled with adoration. 

He gets another secure chat five minutes later. Victoria squints to see what it says. 

made it :) don’t work too hard while im gone

He types back right away. 

Yes ma’am

Victoria gasps. Dennis glances back at her. 

She brings her elbow up to her face, pretending to cough a few times, clearing her throat once she’s done with the performance. 

“Sorry, dry in here today,” She says, trying to give him a reassuring smile. He nods once, unconvinced, but he doesn’t press her on it. 

Her own secure chat lights up. 

TRINITY SANTOS, MD smooth, crash

Seven finally rolls around, signalling the end of your shift. You go back downstairs, waiting outside the ER, like usual, backpack on and changed out of your scrubs. Dennis comes out ten minutes later with Trinity and Victoria trailing behind, his eyes softening when he sees you. 

“Hey, ready to go?” He asks, making you look up from your phone. You nod, greeting his friends before falling in step beside him, bumping your shoulder against his. 

“Oh, gross,” Trinity says, frowning at the heavy rain that’s pouring outside. “You want a ride, Crash?”

“Yes, please,” Victoria says, already bracing herself as Trinity opens the door, turning back to you and Dennis for a second. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” You both say, giving her a tiny wave as they step out into the rain, running to Trinity’s car. 

Dennis pulls his keys out of his backpack, squeezing your wrist quickly. “Stay here.”

You smile. “I know.”

He goes outside, rounding the corner and speedwalking away from the doors. You stay inside, waiting, until you feel someone stop beside you. 

“Waiting for Whitaker?” Robby asks. “I swore he left a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, yeah, he did,” You confirm. “He went to grab the car.”

Robby hums, chuckling. “Of course he did.”

You laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, hands in his pockets. “He just really loves you, is all.”

Your chest and neck start to heat up, making you look towards the ground, scuffing your shoes against the floor. “Yeah, he does.”

“Well, have a good night,” He says. 

You smile. “Goodnight, Robby.”

He walks off just as Dennis pulls the car in front of the doors, shifting it into park as he leans over, gripping the inside handle of the passenger side door. You tense up the moment you’re outside, rain pelting against you, thankful that you still have his fleece on as you run to the car. He opens the door right before you make it so you can just jump inside, slamming it shut behind you, wiping some water off your face. 

You’re both soaked, him more than you, obviously—but he doesn’t care. He leans over the centre console, hand looping around the back of your neck and pulling you close, kissing you. You kiss him back, smiling into it, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. He kisses your forehead after, then pecks your lips again for good measure. 

“Love you,” He says. 

“I love you,” You echo, still smiling. 

A/N - i love that u guys love dennis and hot shot bc i think about them constantly

tags:

Sneaking away with farmera!shane to the barn (facefuck/rough blowjob)

Slow sleepy tent sex (piv sex)

Shane's kind of punishment when you dont listen (wedgies/spanking)

Accidents happen.. (Piv sex/breeding kink/creampie)

Soft parts of being shanes girl (blowjob/forehead kiss)

Touching whats his out in the woods (piv sex/nipple and clit play)

Officer Walsh's punishments (piv sex/belt spanking)

Mean!Shane stretches you out (anal sex)

Shane makes sure you follow the rules (ass/pussy eating/piv sex)

Lastly, (tw!! gunplay below!!)

Shane gets extreme and looses it when you put yourself in danger (Insertion of gun)

In the beginning, Jason was apprehensive about you. You who approached him first, completely unprompted, at your favorite coffee shop. All red and fidgety with nerves when you asked him for his number.

At first he was sure it was a trap, someone sent sweet, unassuming you to catch him off guard. Try and trip him up then get him when he’s unprepared and vulnerable. After all, regular people didn’t just walk up to Jason on purpose to ask him anything, let alone on a date. Jason knew he didn’t really give off dinner and a movie vibes.

Still, something about you drew him in. Maybe it was the overwhelming normalcy of you. Your outfit was overly-casual, like one of those too-late-in-the-week-to-care outfits when it was only Tuesday. You had a kind of anxious, hurried jitteriness to you that screamed that late-for-everything-college-student vibe.

With your bag slung over your shoulder, bursting with notebooks, textbooks, and stray paper, and your iced-coffee order’s condensation beginning to soak your hands, you weren’t extraordinarily beautiful, or blindly radiant, or mysterious like you were hiding a million secrets from the world. You were just any other twenty-something year old running late for her morning classes.

You were also beginning to tense from Jason’s continued silence, embarrassment overwhelming your body language.

Just as you begin to open your mouth, laugh it off and go about your day pretending like you won’t be thinking about the most beautiful boy you’ve ever met’s hard rejection of you at your favorite coffee place (which you’d never be able to return to again) for the next thirty years of your life—he agreed.

With eyes narrowed in suspicion Jason gave you his number, telling himself it was only to figure out who’s ploy this was and what they wanted with him.

Well, Jason’s investigation lasted eight dates before becoming an official label. And somewhere between the meeting your family and the engagement to marriage pipeline, Jason had to admit you might have really just wanted his number.

Jason was unlike anyone you’d ever met, just like you’d known the second you laid eyes on him. He was rugged and rough around the edges in a charming way. Confident and unwavering at one minute, and then second guessing and completely stumbling over himself the next. When it came to you, he was so unsure about everything. Afraid his touch might break you into a million pieces, and his scars—literal and figurative—would scare you away. All he knew was he could not mess this ups

Jason was pretty closed off when you first started going out, he hid secrets you couldn’t begin to decipher and told lies like a priest spreading the gospel. It took a while to crack him open, but when you did the damage was irreparable.

You confronted him one night about his coming and goings at unholy hours of night and morning. It was not too long after the two of you moved in together, it was getting near impossible for him to hide the bruises from you now and the anxiety of not knowing where your boyfriend was disappearing to kept you up all night.

You wanted to give Jason his privacy, just let the sickening feeling coiling in your stomach slowly eat away at you. Keep it locked up snug and tight. But, one too many sleepless nights and you broke like a dam under distress.

Tears and flurried words and too many feelings for you to keep up with all came rushing out when he stumbled back into your shared apartment one night smelling blood, sweat, and something feminine. You asked if he was in some kind of trouble, or if there was someone else—if he didn’t want to be around you anymore that was totally fine, but at least let you know before you get into this too deep—

Jason cut off your rambling with a bone-crushing hug. Tripping over his own words in a hurry to reassure you, the thought of losing you enough of an adrenaline rush to have him forgetting about any injuries he may have procured and his heart feeling like it just might implode in his chest.

And then Jason broke too. He told you the truth—about everything. His nighttime activities moonlighting as Gotham’s vigilante slash crime lord, his history, his family. He spoke of the monsters he fought day in day out, the sacrifices he often had to make to keep a temporary peace in his city—often times those sacrifices having to be pieces of himself.

He told you about you, how you were his sanctuary. A reminder of what he fought for. Your innocence and light. You were no saint by any means, but you’d never be able to accumulate half the sin just he had on his hands in four lifetimes. You were there to remind him that there was still good worth fighting for in the world. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

He then apologized profusely for lying to you, and you could never stay mad at him for long anyway. However, to make up for it (on his insistence) you did make him tell you the civilian identities of all your favorite heroes. A fair trade, you’d say.

Which now brings Jason here. Married, paying off a monthly mortgage, attending Thanksgiving and Christmas parties at your family’s house, waving to neighbors at ungodly hours of the morning as he walked your dogs, and soon expecting a little one of his own.

Yeah, it definitely wasn’t what four-years-ago-Jason would’ve imagined himself as either, or even further back than that Jason. He wouldn’t trade a second of it for the world.

He’d like to say a part of him was reluctant to tell his family of your guys’ relationship because they’d disapprove, and that was why they didn’t know. Saying something like you two were rushing into things and that you had no business being in their line of work due to the dangers. But, in all reality, even after Jason had started to rekindle his relationship with his family and see them more often, he’d just…forgotten.

To tell anybody, really. His family, his friends, he just thought at some point he had told people and they just never mentioned it—there was no way the people he surrounded himself with wouldn’t be able to find out. So, they had to have just no interest in you two, right?

Wrong. Apparently. Jason found out this fact firsthand.

Jason didn’t wear his wedding ring while at work, for obvious reasons. Some of the most notable being, it wasn’t very practical nor was it anyone’s business what the Red Hood’s love life was like. Plus, he didn’t want it to get dirty or risk losing it. He often opted out of wearing it all together deciding the best course of action is to leave it at home, however that night had been different.

Patrol had ended early one night, something Jason was rather irked by considering he’d rushed here from out of state visiting your family due to a false alarm ‘emergency’. He’d had to leave you behind and wouldn’t be able to see you for another week, as the excuse he’d given your family was supposed to be long-term and he refused to let you cut your visit short.

He, along with the other assorted members of Gotham’s vigilantes, ended up back in the Batcave. Jason sat by himself, off to the side where he was not sulking, and—more importantly—where you were not answering his messages.

Dick waltzes up to Jason, who doesn’t even acknowledge his presence, and flops down on the couch next to him,throwing his legs over Jason’s body and making a show of getting comfortable.

Jason glares at him over the screen of his phone and roughly shoves Dick’s feet off of him, promptly turning his attention back to his phone.

Dick cocks a brow. Jason had been particularly quiet and prickly tonight—and he means even more than usual.

It wasn’t uncommon for Jason to be in a bad mood, especially around them, but in recent years he’d been better. He’d started to actually spend time with them—even outside parole, reaching out first occasionally, and they could go several hours without him blowing up and storming off! All in all, Dick wouldn’t call Jason’s behavior unusual, just odd for it to be tonight of all nights.

“What’s so interesting?” Dick asks, nosiness curiosity getting the better of him. He switches his position, instead draping himself over Jason, who was still glued to his phone, and trying to peek at Jason’s screen.

“None of your business, dickhead!” Jason snaps, trying to push Dick away from him.

“What? What is it? Come on! I want to see!” Dick says insistently, chuckling as Jason gets more and more riled up. They wrestle for a moment, Jason outright childishly holding his phone up in the air, away from Dick, as Dick tries to grasp for it but is stopped by Jason’s hands and feet pushing him away.

“Is it something naughty?” Dick teases, mock gasping. “Is that why you won’t show me, Jason? Are you being a bad boy?”

“Shut up! You weirdo!”

Dick howls with laughter as all but Jason tackles him to the floor once Dick gets ahold of his phone. They continue their roughhousing, Dick trying to unlock Jason’s phone screen as Jason fights to get it back. However, Dick has rolled onto his stomach now, and hunches over the phone moving this way and that to prevent Jason from seizing it back. Their commotion draws over the other inhabitants of the cave.

Jason’s phone is snatched from Dick’s hands, Jason lunges after it but is held back by Dick.

“Don’t let him get it, Dami!” Dick says, a wild grin on his face and breathing harshly from laughing so hard.

Damian stands in front of them, Jason’s phone in his hand as he gives the phone a suspicious look. The lock screen is a picture of a woman, her back to the camera as she looks out at the setting sun across the ocean with her hand atop a dog’s head sitting obediently at her feet. Damian raises a brow slightly at this, but opts not to mention it. It wasn’t any of his business what Jason found aesthetically pleasing, after all.

He instead turns back to the real objective at hand: making Jason’s life miserable.

“What is that you’re hiding, Todd?” Damian demands, not asks. “Give it up now and save yourself the trouble. I will find out, one way or another.”

“I’m not hiding anything!” Jason says, irritated. He technically wasn’t lying. He wasn’t intentionally hiding anything from them. He was simply waiting for a very important message from you that he didn’t want to miss because of his annoying, asshole siblings.

Damian clicks his tongue, not believing Jason’s words. He crosses his arms and holds the phone out to his left, handing it over to Tim who starts examining it top to bottom.

Jason rolls his eyes, “You guys are making such an unbelievable deal out of this. It’s just a phone!”

“Nuh uh!” Dick ever-so-helpfully cuts in, his grin still having not left his face as he holds onto Jason even though Jason had stopped struggling. “It’s a phone you don’t want us to see! Which makes it much, much more than just a phone.”

Jason rolls his eyes harder, if that’s even possible, and attacks Dick again. This time, just for Dick being obnoxious.

Tim continues to look over the phone with a critical eye. The case is a black otterbox, the lock screen the picture of a woman and a dog, and a basic numbered password locks the phone. Overall, nothing stands out to him. No secret mechanics or buttons. Well, nothing but the fact that this was definitely not the phone Jason used around them.

That was nothing too shocking though, they all had secret phones. Except the fact that this one seemed to be the personal one, not the work one.

Okay—maybe Jason was hiding one little thing from them, but hiding his personal number from them was nothing egregious.

“A secret phone?” Cass says as she looks over Tim’s shoulder, a smirk on her face and a conspiring glint in her eyes.

“Seems like it.” Tim replies, ignoring Jason and Dick’s squabbling, a twin smirk on his mouth.

“Open it, Drake!” Damian says impatiently, smacking Tim’s arm repeatedly.

“Alright, alright! Stop it!” Tim shakes Damian’s hand off and tries to unlock the phone. He first tries numerous combinations of numbers he knows Jason would use to try and trip them up, but they don’t work. Tim frowns.

Of course they didn’t work, the password was your birthday, but Jason would never use something so simple as a birthday as a password, right? Not that they knew your birthday, anyway.

Jason made it easy for you. He never used his personal phone for anything other than you and the civilian side of his life, anyway.

Usually, he never carries his personal phone with him while he’s at work, much like his wedding ring, and he would never give you his work phone contact to potentially have your number compromised if his phone is ever stolen while he’s out at night. All he has installed on your phone while he’s out is a panic button, it’s made to alert him immediately on any of his devices of your location once it’s activated.

Tonight, though, in his rush he’d kept his personal phone on him—and thank god for it otherwise he’d be bored out of his mind, stuck in the batcave with only his family to keep him company. Well, up till you stopped replying of course.

Tim tries four more passwords before the phone shuts him out for a two minute cool-down. Tim grumbles deep in his throat, starting to get irritated himself.

“Jason, what is it?” Tim grumbles, tapping his foot insistently waiting for the two minutes to finish up. “What’s the password?” Jason doesn’t answer, too caught up with getting out of Dick’s headlock.

“Try one-two-three-four.” Cass suggests.

“Why would it be one-two-three-four?” Tim asks, exasperated. Cass shrugs. Tim sighs.

Jason’s phone suddenly dings with a notification, the sound drowned out by the surrounding chaos. Still, it cuts through the cacophony of noise to Jason like a siren.

“Message from ‘ba—’” Tim starts to read. Jason leaps off of Dick, his brother yelping as he’s trampled under Jason’s feet.

His heart soared when he saw your name on his screen. His shoulders loosens and his face softens, his heart beats a million miles an hour as he taps to open the message. However, his demeanor quickly sours once again once he sees he’s locked out for another forty-two seconds.

Cass’ brows rise imperceptibly as she watches Jason’s body language rapidly change, seemingly going unnoticed by their brothers. She grins and studies Jason closely, thoroughly intrigued now.

She cocks her head, that sly grin still splayed across her lips, and approaches Jason. She peeks over at his phone screen that he alternates from glaring at to Tim and back.

“Who is it?” She asks in a whisper, like they were trading secrets under a comforter way past their bedtime. She hangs over Jason’s arm, trying to get a look at the message as the timer ticks closer to zero, before she’s pushed out of the way by Damian.

“What? What is it?” Damian demands. “I want to see.” He tugs down at Jason’s arm, trying to move it out of the way and snatch the phone back.

Cass pushes Damian back and retakes her spot, Damian doesn’t take kindly to that and soon they’re having an all-out tug of war with Jason’s forearm.

Jason tries to push them both off, but he’s quickly bombarded by his plethora of siblings. Dick finally gets up off the floor with a groan and drapes himself over Jason’s back, and Tim takes a spot hanging over Jason’s other open arm. His siblings’ voices all overlap one another as they continuously get louder trying to speak over the others, making it nearly impossible to pinpoint what one is saying. However, if Jason had to guess, the gist of it all was them wanting to know what was on his phone.

“Would you idiots calm down?!” Jason shouts over them, though it does little to quell their mayhem. However, once he ever-so-casually drops that it’s just you messaging him, that gets them to freeze and the cave suddenly goes dead silent.

Jason rolls his eyes, finally squeezing out of his siblings’ grasps and walking back over to the couch he was previously sitting on. All the while, Dick, Cass, Tim, and Damian stare after him in utter confusion, Jason doesn’t even notice their puzzlement.

The four share looks with each other, looking to one another for answers but coming up short each time.

“Uh…” Tim finally speaks up, “Who?”

Jason repeated your name absentmindedly, like it was one he said on a result basis. Like it was one they were supposed to know.

This also catches the attention of Bruce, who’d previously been sitting at the batcomputer ignoring his children’s rambunctiousness. The four kids glance back at him for answers, but he has no answer for him.

“Right.” Dick says, walking over to Jason who was almost giddily tapping away at his phone, completely unaware of their odd behavior. “And…who is that again?”

Dick chuckles awkwardly, trying to gently coax an answer out of Jason. He leans over the back of the couch and peers at Jason’s phone with his siblings joining him, no resistance from the younger man this time.

However, that seemed to be the wrong thing to ask as Jason whirls around to glower at Dick, pure disbelief and outrage on his face like Dick had just committed the most heinous of crimes.

“Are you serious?” Jason asks, tone hard and deadly. “My wife, jackass?”

Jason scoffs and turns away from Dick, and Dick notices for the first time that night Jason’s fiddling with the necklace strung around his throat. The necklace with a wedding ring hung from it, the inside of the ring engraved with ‘Mr & Mrs’ followed by initials of two names, one he knew as Jason’s and the other hyphenated, and a date. A wedding date if Dick was so bold to assume.

The cave was now so quiet Dick could swear even the resident bats had stopped to settle into absolute shock. He could practically hear Tim’s jaw drop to the floor.

Also for the first time that night, Dick got a good view of Jason’s phone screen. Jason was scrolling through a chat on his messages app;

‘baby 💍💖’:

sorry!! I got caught up in a poker tournament (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

but don’t worry you worry your pretty little head sugar, I won hehehe (¬‿¬ )

no matter what that little tyrant cousin of mine tries to say

[6 attachments]

what do you think of these ones??

Dick watches in stunned silence as Jason replies to each message, taking time to reply to the person saved as ‘baby’ with a heart and ring in his phone that texts with emoticons, with care and attention.

Dick thinks he nearly falls to his knees with a heart attack when he sees the images sent to Jason were baby cribs—and he’s pretty sure Bruce actually does when he hears a strangled gasp to his left. He hadn’t even noticed when the man had come up and joined him and the others, but there he stands mouth agape and his skin a worrying pallor.

“Todd…” Damian is the first to the silence, his voice barely above a whisper at first thought he might as well have just set off a hydrogen bomb.

“You have a wife?!” The boy screeches, voice raising an octave in disbelief.

“Since when?” Cass asks next, in complete disarray.

“Since how?” Tim chimes in, eyes nearly bulging out of his head trying to piece some puzzle together.

“Jason…” Bruce says breathlessly, the quietest among them sans Dick’s abstaining, the gears in his head working overtime trying to figure things out. His brow furrowed and his eyes rapidly blinking, he looks almost…hurt.

Jason looks at them all quizzically, almost appearing as confused as them though Dick is positive that may be impossible.

“What? What are you morons talking about?” Jason asks, his demeanor truly lost.

“What are you talking about?” Dick can’t help but throw his question back at him. He feels his legs starting to get shaky and he has to sit down.

“I’ve been married.” Jason says as if he’s stating the sky is blue.

“Jason…I—why didn’t you—when did—“ Possibly for the first time ever Dick witnesses Bruce at a loss for words. No contingency plan existed for missing your son’s wedding, apparently.

Jason stares at them all strangely, seeming particularly unsettled by Bruce’s reaction. “Uh…yeah. I’ve been married for like two years now.” He says casually.

“Two—two years?!” Tim and Dick shout simultaneously, Dick shooting to his feet. Bruce releases another one of those dying animal sounds and sits down where Dick was previously before he could topple to the floor, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Yeah…” Jason is startled now, clarity slowly starting to creep into his features now. “Didn’t I…tell you guys?” He asks apprehensively.

“No!” They all shout back.

“Well, how did you not know?!” Jason replies defensively. “Aren’t you people supposed to be the ‘world’s greatest detectives’?”

“Jason, no offense, buddy, but you don’t exactly give off the whole loving husband vibe.” Tim says, looking Jason over as if seeing a whole new person.

Jason’s face screws up in definite offense. “Oh fu—”

“You are having a baby!” Cass interrupts, tone caught somewhere between bewilderment and excitement. She’d snagged Jason’s phone while he’d been distracted and now she and Damian scroll through the two of your messages.

Bruce really does collapse that time.

It’s the next day when they all gather together again. The night before, after Dick and Jason had deposited Bruce in his bedroom upstairs, they’d all agreed to get some sleep and resume their talk in the morning. Hopefully, some rest and preparation would help soothe the situation and their conversation can happen in a more civilized manner.

That was the plan, however, even Jason walked into the dining room the next morning for breakfast, he found his family already there looking as if they hadn’t slept a wink.

Jason sits down in his usual seat, ignoring the disappointed look Alfred gives him as he places a plate in front of him. They all sit in silence as Jason serves himself breakfast.

“Look…it was uh—an honest mistake.” Jason says sheepishly, breaking the silence. The sound of forks scraping porcelain halts at Jason’s words as his family all look up and stare at him incredulously.

“An honest mistake?” Dick asks, as if his lack of sleep was causing auditory hallucinations.

“To neglect to inform us that you’ve been in a relationship. The past four years.” Damian tags on—rather judgmentally might Jason add.

“And married. The last two.” Tim says. What was this, some kind of circus act?

“Also, you are expecting a baby.” Cass helpfully adds.

Jason shrugs, finding his food rather captivating. “Could happen to anybody.” That was that catalyst. All of a sudden everyone is speaking loudly trying to speak over each other.

“Right. That too. Is there anything else you’ve forgotten to tell us about, Jason?” Dick asks, overly sarcastic. “You know, besides your secret family.”

“Any more babies?” Cass—voice bright.

“Oh god, please, no.” Bruce moans.

“Why have you hidden this woman from us, Todd? Are you ashamed?” Damian narrows his eyes suspiciously.

“What—no—!”

“Is she a hero?” Tim.

“Who does she work with?” Bruce.

“Is she a criminal? That would explain your reluctance.” Damian, again.

“No, she’s not—”

“Who is she? What does she look like?“

“Are you going to invite her over?”

“Oh! Tell her to come to dinner tonight!”

Jason could hardly keep up anymore, between his brothers’ rapid questions, Bruce’s hard scrutiny—as if he could figure every answer to his questions if he stared at Jason long enough, and Cass making dinner plans with Alfred.

“Shut up! How am I supposed to answer anything if you don’t give me time to breathe?” Jason snaps, huffing and throwing his fork down. “Ruined my damn breakfast.” He mutters, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Oh, quit pouting, Todd—” Damian rolls his eyes.

“I am not pouting, you little—”

“That’s enough!” Bruce cuts in, his tone firm and commanding, quelling the cacophony of voices.

“Jason…” He says, trailing off like he wasn’t sure where he was originally going with his sentence. “Are you sure about this? Marriage is uh…a big decision—”

Jason snorts, cutting Bruce off before he could hurt something with how uncomfortable he was. “Little late for that, big guy.”

“When are you bringing her over?” Cass inquires again. She seemed to be the only one finding the positive in this situation. “Tonight? What should we make for dinner? Does she have any allergies? Alfred—”

Cass turns to Alfred and continues with her dinner plans, not waiting to consult with Jason.

“She can’t come tonight.” Jason rolls his eyes, sighing heavily. “She’s visiting her family in her hometown.”

A collective groan of disappointment resounds around the room, even Alfred and Bruce seem to huff a bit in despondency.

“So even your own wife can’t stand to be around you, huh?” Damian taunts.

“I swear to god—”

A week later, you and Jason stand out front the manor.

“We can leave, if you want.” Jason says, squeezing your hand reassuringly. Though, you think that was more for himself than you. “Really. No offense on either side, we’ll just say something came up with the baby. That you’re not feeling good, or—”

“Jason.” You interrupt, gently gripping his hand in both of yours. “It’s going to be fine. I promise.”

“I know. I know that. Of course it’s going to be fine.” Jason scoffs, seemingly thinking his casual attitude covered up the stiffness of his shoulders. Your sweet Jason, doesn’t he know you know him too well for that?

“Doesn’t mean I have to want to do it.” He mutters under his breath. You huff out a small breath of laughter, shaking your head.

You rub comforting circles on the back of Jason’s hand. “You ready?” You ask, hopping excitedly on the tips of your toes once you two stop in front of the large, double front doors.

Jason softened as he observed you. A smile slowly overtaking his smile and his shoulders loosening, your presence was calming and your smile infectious. He couldn’t help but almost share in your excitement—almost.

Before you could even finish knocking, the door swings open. Standing in the threshold was Jason’s sister, and if you didn’t know any better you’d suspect she’d been standing there watching and waiting for you two to knock.

She looks over you critically, doing a full head to toe scan of you before looking you straight in the eyes.

You clear your throat, squeezing Jason’s hand for courage. However, before you can let nerves get the better of you, her face breaks out into a brilliant smile.

“Hi!” Cass says, her eagerness barely being restrained. “Welcome! I am Cassandra—but just call me Cass.”

Cass reaches out for your hand, pausing for a moment to see if you’re alright with her grabbing ahold of it. You meet her halfway—much to Jason’s dismay—and you swear the sun shines a little brighter as her face lightens.

She pulls you into the foyer, talking amicably with her entire body as if there weren’t enough words in the world to express her thoughts. “I’m so excited to meet you! I can’t believe Jason has tried to hide you from us.”

“I didn’t—” Jason tries to cut in.

“I asked Jason what you like so I hope everything is perfect for you.” Cass says excitedly, ignoring Jason’s grumbling. She pulls you along further and you have to pick up the pace to keep up with her.

“Hey, careful!” Jason growls, you swat at him and quietly tell him to ‘knock it off’. He looks at you with blatant offense, his eyes telling you he can’t believe you’re taking her side. You roll your eyes and continue following Cass.

Cass drags you into the dining room, Jason trailing in not far behind you. The atmosphere is warm with candles lit and the table all set, the air filled with the comforting smell of all your favorite foods.

An old man dressed in a butler’s suit appears through a swinging door, presumably from the kitchen the smells of food are wafting from.

“Good evening, Miss.” He smiles politely, warm and grandfatherly. “I am Alfred Pennyworth, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

You brighten at the familiar name. “Ah! Alfred, yes, Jason’s told me so much about you!” Alfred nods and pulls out a seat for you, you take it gratefully. You smile jubilantly at Jason as he takes the seat next to you, conveying an ‘I told you so!’, absolutely elated with the smooth meetings so far.

Jason shakes his head fondly. Cass pats your arm on her way out of the dining room, smiling reassuringly. Faintly, drop the hall in the foyer you’d just arrived from, you hear her voice call out; “They’re here! Dinner!”

A moment of silence goes by. You and Jason were left alone in the dining room speaking quietly amongst yourselves, Jason’s hand never having left yours.

Then, you hear thundering footsteps approaching from the hallway. Jason groans and slumps down into his chair.

The dining room door bursts open, and a man you recognize as Dick Grayson, Jason’s older brother, stumbles in pushing through the crowd of his younger siblings also trying to fight their way in. You giggle and his eyes snap to you, his face brightening with a charming smile.

He calls out your name and approaches you with his arms spread like he was coming in for a hug. “It’s so great to finally meet you! I’d like to say Jason has told me a lot about you, but he really hasn’t.” He says, obviously still bitter over the fact Jason had kept your relationship a secret from him.

You chuckle sheepishly, glancing at Jason who was glaring at Dick. Jason told you about how it may have slipped his mind the least couple years to mention he was in a relationship to his family. You couldn’t even really be upset considering the fact it may have…slipped yours as well?

The thing was you had met his family before! Sort of. About a year into you two dating, Jason had dragged you to a gala hosted by Bruce Wayne, practically begging you to accompany him so he wouldn’t be ‘bored to death surrounded by a bunch of pompous assholes’ (his words, not yours). You’d clung to Jason’s arm the whole time as Jason skirted on the edges of the ballroom, and fifteen minutes in you two had elected to ditch the event as a whole instead having a date night in.

Throughout the evening, however, quite a couple of his family members had chased him down, and at the least greeted him before he could shake them off. Ok, you guess you can see how Bering seen walking beside Jason at a gala filled to the brim with people could be overlooked as a proper introduction.

But you knew of Jason’s unconventional relationship with his family, he’d only just started—slowly, integrating himself into their lives after all, so you never pushed for anything.

You felt a bit guilty now, though, after finding out how upset his family had been about not knowing of you.

Dick tries to take the seat next to you but Cass is quiet and silent as she slips behind him, yanking the chair out from under Dick before he can properly sit down and sending him crashing to the floor. She maneuvers the chair around him and places the seat next to you again, sitting down with a smug grin.

Jason bursts out laughing. You try to stifle your own laughter and ask Dick if he’s okay, but with the way Cass and Jason are looking at you with amusement you must be doing a terrible job.

The youngest of the bunch, that you know is Damian Wayne, clicks his tongue. “Get off the floor, Richard, you are embarrassing me.”

You nearly lose your composure again after hearing the words coming out of the young man’s mouth. You can’t help finding it incredibly endearing how prim and proper he presented himself. You really do laugh when the boy’s face turns bright red after you tell him that very notion.

Last to enter is Tim Drake, snickering at the sulking Dick who took the seat across from you instead, and the blushing Damian.

You’re pleasantly surprised how easily you all slip into comfortable conversation. Laughing and teasing, trading stories and lighthearted secrets as if you’ve been doing it for years.

You were having an amazing time, any doubt or anxiety you previously had completely disappearing with your reverberating laughter. Even Jason had lightened up.

Bruce Wayne finally made his appearance once Alfred began bringing out the night’s dinner on trays.

You stiffen imperceptibly, that anxiety slowly creeping back into your stomach, but you don’t let it dampen your mood. Only sitting up straighter and keeping your carefree smile on your face.

Jason sets a reassuring hand on your thigh, heavy and warm and familiar. It soothes your nerves and you take his hand in yours, sending a smile his way.

Bruce sits down quietly, the other Wayne family members not bothering to briefly break in their conversations to acknowledge him. He seems content with this so you don’t say anything either, only waiting for him to look up and meet your eyes.

You greet him politely, and he says your name in return with a small nod. From what you’ve heard from Jason that is a wonderful sign and probably the most you’re going to get out of him, so you take it in stride and smile widely returning to the rest of the table.

It was nice being so included in their inner circle. You had a bit of a rocky relationship with your family yourself, but you’d all been working on it in recent years. However, the way you slipped so naturally into their dysfunctional quota was like a missing piece of a puzzle finally finding its home.

You could feel even through all the teasing and poking fun that this family would always have each other’s backs. Through the rough and hard times, or even when they’re at each other’s throats, they’d never give up on one another. Knowing Jason had something like that to look after him if anything ever happened to you comforted a piece of your soul.

Halfway through dinner, you glanced at Bruce Wayne, having almost forgotten he was there. Silently he sat, eating his dinner and observing the attendants at the table and your heart melts as you saw the contented warmth in his eyes. He met your eyes and gave you a slight, warm smile, you saw the way he watched Jason and you.

How open and easygoing Jason became with you around, his arm thrown over the back of your chair and him openly talking and laughing without a care. Your heart soared as he gave you an approving nod, almost thanking you for taking care of his son.

Wow. You totally got why people lost their mind’s for the Batman’s approval now.

“Hey.” You’re pulled away from Cass and answering her million questions about your pregnancy; ‘Did you know what it was yet?’ ‘How far along are you?’ ‘Have you picked out names?’ ‘What do you think about this nursery? Or this one?’ ‘Have you considered Kassandra if it’s a girl? With a K of course.’—when Tim whisper-yelled your name across the table.

You chuckled leaning in with the others as they all acquired a conspiring glints in their eyes.

“Be honest—did you totally kick Jason’s ass when you found out his incredible incompetence struck again?” Damian asks, almost excited to hear about your imagined wrath.

“Please tell me you did.” Tim chimed in, still whispering as if Jason wasn’t sitting directly to your left.

“Oh, don’t be too upset with him!” Dick says, though his wolfish grin betrayed his true thoughts. “He’s not the brightest person sometimes, but he means well! We all have our flaws.”

Jason scoffs and you could practically hear him roll his eyes. You respond before Jason can start retort.

“Well actually…” You begin, tentatively. “I thought you all knew too.” You confess.

The table goes silent.

“I just thought none of you ever mentioned anything! So I didn’t either.” You chuckle bashfully.

Well weren’t you two just a pair of peas in a pod.

“And technically!” You add quickly, trying to defend yourself. “We have met before! At a gala, three years ago, around Christmas time.”

“The Christmas Wayne Foundation gala…?” Dick mumbles.

“Mhm!” You nod, Jason holding a hand up to you as if you were proving some point of his.

“Three years ago…” Tim says, almost like he’s trying to make sure he heard you right.

“Where Jason avoided us the whole night and then disappeared before the event really even started?” Cass asks, this time. You’re sort of starting to get the feeling you’ve said the wrong thing.

You nod again, a little less assured now. “Well, yes. But I was there with him!”

“That counts as a meeting, right? I did see all of you.” You turn to Jason who nods in agreement.

“Not your fault they couldn’t put two and two together—” Jason tries to say.

“No!” They shout in unison.

“Are you people living in delusion?”

“You didn’t even invite us to the wedding! How’re we supposed to guess that you’re married?”

“Well it was small! There were only like—two other people there anyway!” Jason tries to defend.

“Not even a Facebook relationship status change?”

Lesson learned. Jason will never assume the ‘world’s greatest detectives’ (derogatory) knew everything ever again.