Work Text:
“This is not going to work,” Jason mutters as he straightens the sleeves of his sharply cut suit. “Besides, I look like a tool.”
Tim thinks the dark gray pinstripe looks rather fantastic against his lightly tanned skin, black hair, and blue-green eyes and doesn’t hesitate to say so. “It is going to work. And you look great, so stop fussing. If I didn’t have this walking nightmare attached to my leg, I’d be there with you rather than on comms.” He gestures to the cast that ends just above his right knee that’s been filled with doodles and well wishes, some more obscene than others, from his family and friends.
“You’re going to be fine,” Dick chimes in, already dressed in his waiter outfit for the evening. “I’ve got your back too.”
“What I don’t understand is why I’m the one in the monkey-suit rather than you.” Jason glares at his elder brother.
“We’ve been over this,” Tim sighs. “Dick’s too well known in these circles. You’re not. No one looks all that closely at the wait staff.”
“Come on, Lil’ Wing, you’re going to be great! You’re like James Bond!”
The look Jason gives Dick is less than impressed. “Then where’s my damn gun? And all the fun toys?” He turns his attention back at the seated Tim. “Timmy, you’re an epic fail as Q.”
“Now that’s just mean.” Tim wheels his computer chair across the floor of the Cave with one foot. He’d been lectured extensively by Alfred to keep off his leg, especially when down in the Batcave with the uneven floor and all the ramps. Barbara had offered to lend Tim one of her wheelchairs when she came to visit after his fall and subsequent hospital stay. He’d accepted, but now that he’s a few weeks into wearing the cast, he’s doing everything he can to get around without it.
He stops at his workbench and waves a hand, beckoning imperiously to his brothers.
“So you do have shit to give me.” Jason looks slightly intrigued by the mess on the table.
“I have toys for both of you, but mostly you.” Tim picks up a pen. “Single click, works just like a regular pen. Two clicks in quick succession, the pen will spray a concentrated liquid that vaporizes on contact with air to become tear gas.”
“Seriously? Couldn’t fit a bomb into the pen?”
“Shut up, you know that’s a movie myth. It’s just a regular pen. A nice one, so don’t lose it.” He hands it to Jason and picks up something he knows will impress the man a bit more. “These though, are your contact lenses that will feed me real-time visuals of what’s going on, who you’re meeting with, and any other fun little tidbits we can gather.”
“They’re hard lenses, aren’t they?” Jason makes a face.
“Yes, deal with it.” Tim hands Jason the small case with a couple of small hoop earrings, both a dark gunmetal gray. “These are your comms.”
“Earrings? Really?”
Dick snorts as he tries to hide a laugh at the slightly put out look on Jason’s face. “The Birds use them all the time.”
“The Birds have actual pierced ears.” Jason takes the case as well and raises his eyebrow at Tim. They’ve all adopted the look from Alfred, honing it over the years so that they each have a version to make the old butler proud. “Where’s the good shit, Timmy?”
“The pen really is a tear gas bomb, so be careful with it. This watch” Tim hands Jason a Rolex, “has short-wave jamming device that’ll block all radio channels but ours if you pull this pin and this one.” Tim points as Jason’s eyes narrow in interest. “And, if you’re actually successful in schmoozing your way past Luthor’s security, this pin here will open the face of the watch where the mini-USB drive is hiding.”
“So what you’re telling me is, don’t lose the watch.” Jason looks evenly at Tim.
“Don’t lose the watch.”
“Gun? Hell, even a knife?”
“You’re going to be searched as soon as you walk into the building, everyone’s getting a full pat down and body scan. No weapons.”
“Dammit, Drake!” Jason looks extremely put out.
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Tim replies with a smirk. “Thought it would be better if you knew now rather than try to sneak something in and have it taken away from you later.”
Dick chuckles at his brothers and shakes his head. “Come on, Tim. Stop holding back. Show him his real prize for the night.”
Jason perks up at that. “And what’s that gonna be?”
Tim hands Jason a key fob with a remote starter for a car. “You’re taking all the fun out of this, Dick.”
“Better this than Jason whacking your other leg.”
“Hey!” Jason protests. “For the last fucking time, I did not break Timmy’s leg. It was that shithead with the lead pipe in the alley.”
“Oh and here I thought it was Professor Plum in the library with the candlestick,” Dick teases.
“I’ll shove a candlestick up your fucking ass if you don’t shut up, Big Bird.”
“How is this helping?” Tim asks as he starts rolling away from his brothers and down another ramp, catching the guardrails with his racing-gloved hands to make sure he doesn’t go flying. He’d discovered that taking the ramps at full speed in any of his rolling chairs was a bad idea.
Still bickering, Dick and Jason follow after Tim, who waits a bit impatiently at the lift that’ll take them down to the garage level of the Cave.
A big grin appears on Jason’s face as he realizes where they’re heading. “Please tell me this key is for a sweet set of wheels.”
Tim stops in front of a car and grins. “This sweet enough for you?”
Both of the former Robins rush forward and start inspecting the dark gray car, an actual Aston Martin DB11. “Holy fuck, Tim,” Jason says, a look of awe on his face as he runs a hand lightly over the hood of the car. “Please tell me you’re not fucking with me and yanking my chain.”
“I’m not, but this is Bruce’s car, so he’d really like it back in one piece.”
“This is what the two of you have been working on the last couple weeks, right?” Dick asks curiously, tearing his attention away from the car to look at Tim.
“Right.” Tim pulls out another key fob and unlocks the car. “Jason, get in. Time to show you all the bells and whistles.”
Jason scrambles into the driver’s seat of the car, not even complaining as his knees knock against the steering column. The last person to drive the car had been Tim. “Christ, now I really do feel like James Bond.”
*****
Over the last few months, Batman, Oracle, and Red Robin have been picking up whispers off the streets and on the Web that Lex Luthor is planning something big. The problem is, no one knows what, or when, or any of the details that would give the Bats a clue of what the mad-genius businessman is up to.
Luthor Corp is well known for their security, both physical and cyber, so it’s been almost impossible to get into one of Luthor’s facilities for Tim to get a specially designed worm in the network and start combing through files. Until tonight that is. Luthor is hosting a charity gala at his main headquarters in Metropolis and is really pulling out all the stops. Even he knows it’ll be a PR nightmare if something happens. His name has been slung through the mud so many times now it’s a wonder he even has investors in the first place.
An event like this is something all the corporate bigwigs on the East Coast will be attending. However, Bruce Wayne made it very clear over a year ago that he and Wayne Enterprises would have no more business dealings with Luthor Corp or any of their subsidiaries after the last Luthor fiasco. This kind of event would normally be right up Bruce and Tim’s alley and they’ve proven many times over they can infiltrate a corporate event, find what they need, and get out, all without either of them needing to put on a mask.
But neither Bruce nor Tim can show themselves at this charity event thanks to Bruce’s declaration. Plus, the big man himself is off-world right now, courtesy of a last minute call up to the Watchtower and then to parts unknown.
Enter Dick.
Originally, it was going to be Bruce in prosthetics and Tim in the waiter uniform, but with his busted leg, they brought in Dick to take over that role. Both men were good at undercover jobs, but Bruce needed to be the one to get the worm into the network and be on site to make any last minute adjustments. Dick, for all his many talents, still isn’t all that great when it comes to computers and programming. His part in this is to keep any eye on Luthor and his scary assistant Mercy Graves and give warning if either disappear unexpectedly from the event.
But then Bruce got called away the day before, leaving Tim to scramble and call in a massive favor from Jason.
Tim hopes Jason can pull it off. He really does.
The plan is relatively simple, which Tim has learned they need to be when working together with Dick and Jason. The two men are good at following directions, but have an annoying tendency to improvise when they feel the situation calls for it. At the same time, there is a reason why Tim tapped Jason to help with this particular mission after he broke his leg. If the world thought Red Hood and Red Robin work scarily well together, they had no clue what to expect when Nightwing joins in.
Neither does Tim for that matter and it’s making him a bit nervous. I really hope the communications equipment I gave them works so I can keep the improvisation to a minimum.
The whole thing is starting to remind Tim of a Hollywood drama. All we need now is a hairless cat for Luthor and we’re set.
*****
“…South Africa? I’ve been through Johannesburg a couple times and down to Cape Town, but I never had a chance to get out of the cities,” Jason’s saying to a group of people. “Game hunting’s never really been something that interests me all that much.”
Over the comms, Dick sighs. “Our little boy cleans up so nicely, doesn’t he?”
“I know,” Tim agrees. “Putting on quite the show too. That accent is helping.”
“Who’d have known Jaybird could pull off that convincing of a British accent?”
“I think he’s trying to get in the right mindset. That James Bond comparison earlier seemed to help.” Tim taps a few keys on his keyboard, zooming in through Jason’s contact lenses to get a picture of the man Jason is talking to and compare it to his Interpol database. He frowns at what he sees. “Hey Jason, that guy you’re speaking with is Frederich van der Holt. He’s a big game hunter and known poacher with some ties to the South African mining industry. How he got in here, I’m not quite sure, so be careful.”
“I wonder if Jay’s really been to South Africa before?” Dick’s eyes flicker to Jason before drifting off again towards his targets for the night, Luthor and Graves.
“He’s been around the world a few times,” Tim replies. “Hey, try to move to your right a bit. I can’t get a good look at who Luthor’s talking to.”
It’s a few minutes before Jason’s able to maneuver his way out of the circle of people he was speaking with. “You two keep that chatter up, I’m going to throttle you both when we’re done.”
“That would be a much scarier threat if you weren’t speaking with an accent,” Tim comments dryly. “Of which, it’s a good one. Way to channel your inner Alfred.”
“Fuck you.”
“Sorry, you’re not my type,” Tim says with a smirk. “Can you get any closer to your entry point yet?”
“Working on it. Shouldn’t be much longer.”
“Do you even have a type, Tim?” Dick asks, sounding curious. It’s much easier for him to carry on a conversation than Jason right now.
Tim closes his eyes, feeling a headache brewing. “Now is not the time for this,” he all but growls.
Both of his brothers snicker. “Come on, it’s always time to pick on you, Timmy,” Jason says, his eyes darting to the left and spotting a waiter that he swipes a canapé from.
“Yeah!” Dick agrees. “Come on, Tim. I’ve got a thing for leggy redheads that can kick my ass, Jason finds anyone who can verbally and physically spar with him attractive, so what about you?”
“We’re working.” Tim ignores his brothers in favor looking up more information on the people he’s been taking pictures of.
“And you’re stalling. C’mon, babybird. Spill the beans or I’m going to get you drunk one night and get it outta you that way.” Jason’s accent slipped back into his normal tones.
“Get back in character, Jason,” Tim snaps. “And no you’re not. I refuse to get drunk with you.”
“Aren’t there a couple of myths that involve drinking?” Dick asks. His tray is empty so he’s moving about the room collecting plates and champagne flutes as he makes his way back to the kitchen to get a fresh one.
“Oh, we’re gonna do beer goggles when Timmy’s cast is off. Take him to a club and let the liquor flow until we see who he ends up on the dance floor with.” Jason sounds excited at the prospect.
“I hate you both, now get back to work.”
*****
“The red wire connects to the blue connector. The blue wire connects to the yellow thing. The white wire connects who the fuck knows where…” Jason sings a poor rendition of the children’s song as he carefully works his way through massive number of wires in the server room he’s snuck into.
“What is it with you and butchering songs?” Tim asks idly, waiting with almost baited breath as Jason sorts through the wires to the port Tim’s instructed him to locate and insert his USB drive.
“It’s a special talent,” Jason replies. “Besides, mine are better than the originals.”
“Right, keep telling yourself that.”
“Would you just shut the fuck…oh, here we are.” Jason spots the port at the same time Tim does.
“Perfect.” Tim readies his fingers on his keyboard. “All you have to do is stick it in there.”
“That’s what she said.” Jason inserts the USB drive in the port and slowly starts moving the wires back where they belong.
“She ever say that to you?” Tim snarks back as his fingers fly. He’s got a very limited amount of time before Luthor’s security system will find his worm, so time is of the essence to get as much information downloaded as possible through the backdoor he just created.
“Never heard any complaints.”
“You okay on your exit? I’m going to be busy here for the next few minutes.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just wish I had a gun.”
From the corner of his eye, Tim spies Jason creeping slowly towards the door of the server room. “I feel like I should be making a joke about what you’re usually packing and compensating for something, but I’m a little distracted right now.” Lines of code and other goodies are crawling across Tim’s main screen, almost faster than he could read.
“I am so getting you drunk.”
*****
“Stay down, you fucking asshat!” Jason shouts as he runs across the parking garage, shooting a man in the kneecap with a pistol he picked up from another guard earlier. “Goddamn it, Big Bird, where the fuck are you?”
“I’m almost there!” Dick shouts, the sound of breaking glass and metal banging loudly over his comm. “Not exactly like I’ve got a spot to change clothes with these goons chasing me too!”
Tim remains silent, knowing better than to distract his brothers right now with random commentary. Jason hadn’t been more than 20 feet from the server room when he was spotted and had immediately activated their emergency exit plan: RUN LIKE HELL. Having access to Luthor’s network helped as Tim was able to override the codes for the emergency exits and Jason went down the first stairwell he came to while Tim locked it behind him.
Of course, Jason’s shouts had alarmed Dick, who then decided it was time for him to leave too rather than stick it out like he was supposed to. His argument was that he was Jason’s backup so he needed to damn well be there to back him up. His abrupt exit alerted the security detail on the ground floor. Tim figures that at least he’s heading for his exit point, which is supposed to take him right by Jason if he ever makes it to the damn car.
“Dunno why the fuck you had to leave too.” The sound of a gun going off echoes over the comms. “I said stay down, fuckface!”
“If you get to the car, it’s bullet proof.” Tim decides it’s time to speak up. “And get there fast, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be in the system and can keep your doors open for you.”
“I just got to my level of the garage now. I see the car.”
“It’s got a remote starter, so if you can see it, the car’s in range to turn on.”
“So helpful.” There’s another gunshot and then the slam of a car door, followed quickly by Jason taking a deep, gasping breath. “Okay, baby, let’s see what you can really do.”
Dick laughs at the sound of the squealing tires. “Hope you’re insured, Lil’ Wing!”
“Nationwide is on my side,” Jason sing songs. “Get me outta here, Replacement!”
“You almost there, Dick?” The one thing Tim hasn’t been able to find are blueprints of the building to see exactly where his brothers are. It’s been irking him all night. He’s got a general idea, but Dick’s exit was selected by him earlier that night when he first arrived with the catering crew. Tim marked it on the map he’d been creating based on the visuals from the lens feeds.
“Almost…Here!!” Dick shouts and slams a door behind him. “If you can lock this door, Tim, do it!”
“Got it!” Tim hits a key and engages the magnetic locks on the door, thanking God for Luthor’s paranoia for once.
“I see him!” Jason says and there’s a squeal of tires again, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut again before the tires peel once more.
“Goddammit, Jason, stop jerking this lady around.” Dick sounds pissed.
“Get me a straightaway and I won’t have to.”
“Would you both quit with the innuendos already?” Tim finally sees what he’s been expecting for the past five minutes. Luthor’s cyber security system is finally trying to kick him out. “You’ve got about 30 seconds to get out of the garage. I’m being kicked out.”
“That’s what she said,” Dick and Jason say in almost perfect unison.
“I swear to God, I am never working with the two of you together again.” Tim’s fingers dance over his keyboard, eyes glued to the screen in front of him. He’s on the edge of his computer seat, his good leg pressing hard against the floor to keep the chair from rolling. His muscles are clenched so tight he can feel the ache already from his broken tibia.
“I see the garage exit. ETA is 15 seconds,” Jason says in a rush. “I’ve got two cars on my ass already. Any bead on what’s outside?”
“That’s a negative,” Tim says. “Get out, get out, get out,” he starts muttering at the screen. The other system is trying to back-trace the worm and find where the data it pulled went, but Tim expected this and designed it to disburse all over the Web. But Luthor’s system is good, too good, which is starting to make Tim think it’s not completely automated and that there’s someone else on the other side trying to counter-hack him.
“Hey, what does this switch do?” Tim hears Dick ask, but he’s too busy to reply right away.
“Not sure. This thing didn’t come with an updated owner’s manual and I wasn’t paying too much attention to the Cliff Notes. Almost there…”
“Where is it?” Tim finally asks.
“In the center console, just below the controls for the air conditioning.”
“Rear rocket launcher,” Tim replies, smirking in satisfaction as he kicks the other hacker out of his system and shuts it down hard, going black.
“Fuck me, really? Dickie, hit it!”
“No! There’re people in those cars, Jason!”
“We’re clear of the building, asshole, you can aim it wherever. There has to be the targeting computer too.”
Tim pulls up his laptop and taps into the CCTV feeds for Metropolis to watch his brother’s escape. “Figure it out fast, you two, or you’re going to be boxed in.”
“For the love of Christ, gimme that.” There’s the sound of a struggle coming over the comms as Jason and Dick fight over something. “Goddammit, Timmy, please tell me there’s an ejection seat and I can jettison Dickie’s ass.”
“You know those don’t work like that in a car. Not enough space to get the upward thrust you need to get more than a couple feet in the air.” Tim bites his tongue as soon as he says it. His brothers have been perves the entire night and were not going to let this one go.
“I’ll show you thrust,” Jason says and there’s the sound of squealing tires again. “Dick, there’s the expressway right up ahead. Think you can aim at the road and hit the ramp?”
“Morning rush hour is going to hate us.”
“Fuck them and fuck their mothers. Do it now!” The sound of Jason’s shout is almost drowned out by the sound of the rocket blasting out the back of the car.
Tim counts to five before he hears the explosion, followed by Dick and Jason cheering like madmen and the sounds of high fives. He sighs. “Superman is going to hate us.”
“He’s off-world too. Maybe he didn’t hear it?” Dick asks, ever the optimist.
“We can only hope.”
*****
A couple of days later, Dick, Jason, and Tim stand before Bruce and Clark in the Batcave. Both are wearing what Tim’s come to call their “disappointed but secretly proud, but we can’t admit that because of collateral damage” looks. He shifts awkwardly on his crutches, hating having to stand with the things as he can’t bend his knee to take his full weight off his broken leg, but he wants to stand with his brothers for the lecture.
“…and you blew up a ramp to the expressway going out of downtown. Do you know how badly that’s messed up traffic over the last few days?” Clark is saying. “I was able to get the framework of the ramp rebuilt this morning, but it takes time for concrete to cure.”
Dick is looking suitably abashed, which is typical for him since he idolizes Superman, but he doesn’t try to make excuses. None of them do. Jason stands there with a cocky grin, looking completely unrepentant. Tim’s trying to keep his face neutral.
“What I want to know,” Bruce interjects finally, “is what happened that your covers were blown so badly that you had to leave in such a dramatic fashion?”
Jason shrugs. “Dunno about Dickiebird, but I got spotted in the hallway in a place there weren’t supposed to be any guests. The guards were definitely more of the “shoot now, ask questions” later types. I didn’t feel like hanging around to answer questions.”
“And you, Dick?” Bruce asks, icy blue eyes boring into his eldest.
“I was Jason’s backup, I needed to be with him,” Dick replies quietly.
“You could have waited out the entire event and left unobtrusively at the end of the night with no one the wiser.”
“I was Jason’s backup. I made the choice to be with him,” Dick repeats firmly, standing his ground and staring back at Bruce with his own blue glare.
Tim watches the interaction and it finally dawns on him why Dick broke from the plan. Whenever he’s in a position to do so, he’s never going to leave Jason alone. He’ll always have his back.
Bruce stares back at Dick for a moment longer and turns his gaze on Tim. “You were the one in charge of these two, of this entire mission. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Tim returns Bruce’s glare with one of his own, then looks over at his brothers, a smirk appearing on his face. “I like my martinis shaken, not stirred.”