I only wish I owned these dorks. Imagine the adventures we could have. (And the angst. Never forget the angst)

But no, I don't own them. If anyone would be interested in participating in a coup against DC...We should talk.

Profit

Tim hid a small smirk behind his hand, giving a fake cough to excuse the obstruction. Tam shot him a glare, obviously not fooled.

Hey, he couldn't help it if he was pleased by being able to pull one over on Lex Luthor of all people, even if it was only in the business world and only because one of the man's underlings hadn't believed that a seventeen year old high-school…temporary dropout was able to be a capable CEO for Wayne Enterprises.

He couldn't wait to wave the profit margin in Superman's face.

Smile

There is a Very Secret Cork-board hidden in Tim's apartment. It's where they stick hard copies of all the pictures they've managed to get of Batman smiling.

There aren't many, but they treasure them.

Summit

"Hey Double R."

Tim glanced over at the other masked figure perched on top of the water tower. "Nightwing."

The two of them just sat for a moment, watching the shadowed city beneath them, before a scream from Crime Alley pulled them back to work.

Injury

In the end, it wasn't any great "save the world" moment or heart-breaking almost-deathbed conversation that got Tim and Jason to work together, it was the earth-shattering occasion of a brilliantly sunny day in Gotham. Alfred had banished the entire family outside for the day, which meant that Bruce had commandeered the gazebo, while the kids enjoyed the rare opportunity to utilize the outdoor pool. (Not the one in the pool house. The one that was actually outside.) Cass and Steph had joined forces to drag Tim into the water, so he was soaking wet and therefore banned from the gazebo and unable to help Bruce with going over the information from one of the latest cases. All was well.

And then "tomorrow" rolled around. And Jason and Tim, with their fair, sensitive, Gothamite skin, rather resembled boiled lobsters. Boiled lobsters in pain, smeared with green goop. (Why did Alfred even have Aloe Vera? The man was even more prepared than Bruce.) The girls had actually remembered sunscreen (a rarely used commodity in this city) and as for Dick and Damian… They had crowed their genetic advantage to the skies, flaunting their darker complexions in their brothers' faces. Dick gleefully and Damian with his typical suffocating smugness. Tim and Jason had shared a look, for the first time ever in complete agreement.

This was war.

Spotlight

When they said that Dick Grayson was born in the spotlight, they meant it literally. His birth had resulted in a canceled last act, a harrowing delivery on the highest platform in the big top, and many surprised exclamations. He hadn't been due for another month at least and Mary had thought it safe to ascend to offer moral support during the show. She hadn't know they would not be able to leave Gotham in time. If she had… She looked sadly out the window of their trailer. She and John hadn't wanted any child of theirs to be born in this city. Their nephew, Johnny, had been born outside of Paris, and both sets of Graysons had agreed to try and end the claim this dark place had on their bloodline. John and Richard had both been born here themselves, in this city that, as John said, "Eats our family."

A tear ran down her face as she dropped a kiss on the black fuzz crowning her baby's head. "I am so sorry, little Robin. We failed you." They left for the next European tour in two months. She would have to pray that it would be enough to break him free of whatever curse bound them to this place. "And if it isn't," she whispered into the stillness, listening to her child breathe. "Take me instead. Let him be free and take me."

Gotham could not have her son.

Angle

Babs tilted her head to peer up at her not-boyfriend as he balanced on one hand on the back of her sofa. Bright blue eyes sparkled back at her as he dropped his other hand to distribute his weight as he slowly bent his legs behind his back towards his head, forming himself into a misshapen "o" and (completely unintentionally she is sure) bringing his stinky bare feet into close proximity to her face.

The hacker rolled her eyes and smacked his feet away. She felt rather proud of the fact that she off-balanced him enough that he had to flip off of his perch.

That the end result was him joining her on the sofa had absolutely nothing at all to do with it. Nope.

Muscle

Tim frowned as he looked around the Batcave, unwrapping the bindings on his hands without needing to look, muscle memory taking care of the job.

Cassandra and Dick were playing some sort of weird hide-and-seek-tag game up in the ceiling, bouncing from shadow to shadow, only the occasional echoing laugh betraying where they had been. Steph was whaling away at her own punching bag, alternating kicks and hits with a viciousness that hinted at trouble ahead for somebody. Jason was bent over the work bench, doing something to a stack of batarangs. Probably trying to figure a way to get bigger explosions. Demon Brat was in the motor pool, tinkering with Dick's motorcycle.

Excessive clothing (outside of uniforms) was never really the order of the day in the Cave, and that was shown in Dick and Jason's shirtless states and the tank tops/wife beaters worn by the younger four. Tim winced as Cass flashed by in a barely visible blur of movement.

Sometimes, it was a little hard hanging out with these people, being part of this family.

Take Bruce for instance, Bruce was a 6' 2" muscle-bound hunk of aggression. Then there was Jason, who was almost as tall and almost as built and he was only nineteen so he wasn't even finished growing yet. Steph had some pretty noticeable physicality herself these days, and Cass and Dick were all lithe grace and whipcord. Barbara's arms…Not even going to go there. Even Damian, who was ten, had more real muscle definition than he did. Stupid little "perfect genetics" ninja assassin. (He weighed more than Tim too.) That's not to say he didn't have muscles, it just didn't show as obviously on him as it did on the others.

It sucked.

End Note (aka How To Prompt)

I have several chapters of this already completed that I will be posting over the next several days, however, I am always excited to get more prompts! Here is how to give me some:

Step 1: Leave a review. It doesn't have to be long but it should be specific. As nice as it is knowing that you "Loved it!" I would like to know what in particular you liked and did not like. Just a couple of sentences should do. "I liked how you had such and such acting, it seemed very in-character" or "You might want to practice writing so-and-so more, they don't have a very distinct voice" etc... Pick something and comment on it. Turns of phrase, ideas, anything.

Step 2: Come up with seven words and send them to me in a PM that also includes a theme. For instance, a specific AU setting, a situation, a character, a food, a color. Something to put more guidelines for the fills in place and force me to be creative. Alternately, you can give me seven words I have already written fills for and challenge me to write new, completely different ones. (In which case you can forgo theme should you so desire, as rewrite is a theme on its own.)

Step 3: Wait. RL hits hard sometimes and it might take some time, but I will let you know as soon as I have posted your chapter. Either via PM or, if you have an AO3 account, I can gift it to you. (It's pretty cool!)

Step 4: Read and enjoy! (And review :) )