Not my sandbox, not my characters.

"Story." Cass demanded, placing her book of fairytales into Jason's hands and curling up between Timmy and Damian, almost disappearing into the nest of blankets and pillows that had been constructed.

Dick had departed some hours earlier, for a sleepover at Mount Justice (Not that he'd called it a sleepover, it was a "training session". But it was totally a sleepover.) While he was gone, the family room was hosting the most epic pillow and blanket fort of all time and Alfred had even been persuaded to relax bedtime in light of it not being a school night. Cass had stayed home from patrol, Timmy stayed over, and they made a night of it.

Alfred had set the movie limit to three and they had watched them while Cass painstakingly painted all their nails then sat imperially as Jason did hers. (Black with gold glitter.)

Board games had followed, a cutthroat round of Go Fish and then Jason taught Timmy and Cass how to play poker. Timmy proved to have a knack for card-counting (surprise, surprise) that might someday rival Jason's own. Then Cass caught Jason cheating at ERS and declared game time over and went for her favorite book.

"Which story?" Jason asked, flipping through the well-worn pages with even more than his customary reverence for the written word, taking a moment to pause at the flyleaf with its two inscriptions.

"To Mary, may our child love stories as much as you do."

And, in Dick's slapdash scrawl, made as neat as he could manage, "For Cass. Welcome to the family Little Sister."

Cass took a moment, munching loudly on a handful of popcorn while deliberately dropping stray kernels down the back of Timmy's shirt as the smaller boy looked like he wasn't sure if it was worth trying to wriggle away.

"Beauty and the Beast." She said finally, with a satisfied nod. Damian, who'd fallen asleep hours ago, snuffled and curled up closer to Timmy, which was quite entertaining, considering his usual attitude toward him.

Jason understood what Dick meant about Damian being really adorable sometimes. (Though Dick did have questionable opinions.)

"Beauty and the Beast it is." He acquiesced, flipping to the requested story.

"With voices." Cassie reminded sternly.

"With voices." Jason nods. Dick is Cass' favorite storyteller. He is both very good at "voices" and, according to their sister, he tells stories with his whole body, not just his voice. (Jason has been press ganged into his impromptu theater productions enough times to have ample evidence of this.) But Jason is the best of them at reading aloud.

"Once upon a time…"

CE~CE~CE~CE

Cass wakes Jason hours later and they watch, instantly awake and alert, as only assassins and street kids can be, on the news as large plants (Ivy, it has to be) wreak havoc not only in Gotham but in Paris, Star, Taipei, and Metropolis. Cass and Jason trad looks and dash for the Cave, a bleary-eyed Timmy and Dami on their heels.

They are cut off by Alfred, who shoos them back towards the family room. "The situation is well under control young Miss, young Sirs. The Justice League is already preparing to deal with it."

"Our city!" Cass protests. "Batman, Black Bat, Robin, Batgirl. Not Superman."

Nevertheless, Alfred keeps them confined to the upstairs for most of the day. Cass repaints everyone's nails, a scowl on her face that silences any objections as she attacks Jason's toes with hot pink and colored glitter polish. Even Damian's grumbles are silenced in the face of her frustration.

And then the "Injustice League" hijacks the broadcast, the Joker's cackling face front and center. And this time they refuse to be stopped. Alfred is already in the Cave itself, speaking with B through the coms and remotely piloting the Bat-Plan to Mount Justice.

Cass immediately makes for the case with her suit and Jason skids to a halt next to Alfred and scans the screens.

"They need help." He all but shouts as casualty lists scroll by.

"The Justice League is on their way, Master Jason." Alfred says shortly, in the way that means he is focusing on something else. "And might I remind you, Miss Cassandra, that you are not permitted out alone within a month of a concussive incident."

Cass snarls silently, mutinous. "Gotham is ours. Not the JL's." she signs sharply. "Civilians will not listen to JL."

"Nonetheless," Alfred replies. "With Miss Gordon in Chicago and Miss Kyle who know where, there is no one to go with you."

Cass' scowl grows, then abruptly melts into a smirk. "Robin."

Alfred frowns and glances at the monitor. "Master Richard and his team are on their way to confront the 'Injustice League' in Louisiana-"

"Not Dick-Robin," She points. "Jason-Robin."

Jason turns to look at what she is pointing at. It's Dick's old Robin suit, the one he'd worn before the…incident with Two Face and the baseball bat about a year ago. It had less armor than his current uniform, and considerably less pants. It was also just about Jason's size.

"Only crowd control." Cass adds before either Jason or Alfred can say anything. "No engaging. Not yet."

Jason can't help but feel a little offended, even though he knows logically that even after two months of intensified training he isn't ready to tangle with anybody big yet. Street level criminals; muggers and looters perhaps, but definitely not mutated plant monsters affiliated with both Joker and Ivy. He frowns. Something about that seems a little off.

He puts it aside to think about later. "But I'm not Robin." He protests weakly, not even sure why he is arguing against going at all, just because he hadn't thought of an identity yet.

Cass shrugs, already pulling her suit together and heading for the locker rooms. "Tonight only. Jason-Robin, go!"

CE~CE~CE~CE

Less than ten minutes later, Black Bat and Robin are racing side by side towards Gotham City, civilians diving out of their way.

Jason mostly focuses on keeping control of "his" bike. Dick tends to modify his R-Cycles with an eye towards speed, to the point that his primary cycle can keep up with a slow-moving speedster. Even his back-up, which Jason is riding, is significantly more powerful than anything he's ridden before.

Black Bat barely slows once they reach the city proper, flying through traffic and police checkpoints and across sidewalks until she veers sharply into the alleyway that houses the entrance to one of their bolt holes. (Bat holes, Dick called them, and laughed uproariously.)

They take to the rooftops until they are close enough to see the worst of the carnage.

The Bat-Plane flies overhead and dumps a load of the specialized Ivy-strength weed killer over the plant as Captain Marvel rips one of the plants bodily out of the ground and flies off into the atmosphere with it.

Jason gets distracted trying to shoo a reckless reporter and his camera crew out of the area and has barely enough warning to pull out a rebreather when the spores explode and the all-too-familiar laughing begins. His glove snags on some of the debris and rips before he finally succeeds in convincing the reporters that they would be safer elsewhere. How Dick never got himself killed wearing this flimsy thing he has no idea.

"Robin." Alfred's voice says in his ear. "You need to obtain a sample of the gas and take it to the secondary base for analysis. It does not seem to be responding to the traditional antidotes."

Already, some of the first victims are beginning to go still. Whatever this new laughing gas is, it kills fast. Jason dares get close enough to take a sample from the air and bolts for the bolt hole (and he is never telling Dick about that inadvertent pun) as quickly as he can. After that, it's just a matter of plugging the sample in for analysis and waiting.

Catwoman shows up and watches Black Bat's back, leaving Jason free to sit and stare at the small screen compiling the results of the analysis.

Even after the plant thing seems to implode on itself, heralding the success of the Team and destroying the source, those affected by the laughing gas continue to expire. By the time Alfred and Leslie have an antidote synthesized, there are only a handful left to save.

CE~CE~CE~CE

They straggle back to the cave, one or two at a time. Jason comes in right behind Selina and Cass and all three of them are out of the showers by the time Bruce and Dick get back from Louisiana.

Dick is pale and muddy, with a torn cape and smelling of smoke and swamp. He hugs them all tightly and staggers into the showers. Jason flops into the big chair beside Cass, the two of them fitting their narrow frames easily into the space designed for Bruce. Damian, sleepy but determined, parks himself outside the shower to wait for Dick. Timmy is curled in one of the smaller chairs, frowning.

"What's wrong, Kitten?" Selina taps him gently on the top of his head as she passes by.

"It doesn't make any sense." Timmy says quietly. It gets everyone's attention immediately.

"Whadaya mean, Timbo?" Jason asks, leaning around Cass to see the monitor Timmy is staring at. It is the newly made file on the Injustice League.

"This," Timmy waves at the muted video of the ransom demand. "forget the rest of them, why would Ivy and Joker work together, especially on this scale." He looks earnestly over at Jason. "Ivy hates Joker. And their demands? Ivy's a bio-terrorist, Joker just wants chaos and destruction." He counts off on his fingers. "Count Vertigo wants power in general, the throne of Vlatava in particular. Atomic Skull, Black Adam, Wotan…they all have different goals. I just can't understand why they would decide to work together. And the prep for an attack on this scale would have taken months. The Joker has never had a partnership that long before. Unless you count Harley."

"They were expecting us." Dick volunteers as he emerges, pushing his damp hair out of his eyes. Damian latches onto his waist immediately. "And Joker spent the whole time going after me." He shivers and Jason doesn't think it's the cold of the Cave. "I knew he hated Robin but I never realized how obsessed he was."

"You're right that it doesn't make sense." Selina says from beside Timmy's chair. "I've heard enough of Pam's rants about the Joker to know that it would take a lot of incentive for her to agree to work with him. She hated him even before Harley entered the picture."

"What did they expect to get in payout?" Timmy nods. "Money? There are easier ways to get it that don't involve calling the whole Justice League down on your head."

"Trap?" Cass asks, frowning in confusion. "For who? Robin? Team?"

"We're missing something." Dick says, sounding muffled since he has his face buried in a now sleeping Damian's hair. "And whatever it is, it's big."

Bruce appears and stands awkwardly to the side, since Jason and Cass are sprawled over his chair. "Whatever it is, the Injustice League has been stopped for now. And it's bed time."

Selina begins giggling and blows up a news clip on the big screen. It's the tape underneath the gleeful looking reporter that catches Jason's attention first. "IS ROBIN A GIRL?"

He is confused for a moment before he sees the picture in the corner, his exposed hand after he lost the glove.

Dick frowns at the screen. "What? Do they think only girls can paint their nails?"

Feed Bob the Dragon, please! He loves reviews!

I'm sorry I've been gone for so long. It's been a rough few months writing-wise. Hopefully I'm back to semi-regular updates now. We'll see.