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It started with a series of break-ins and vandalism at various sex and fetish shops around Gotham. The ante is upped when reports start coming in about people being attacked and beaten when they leave a very specific type of club or bar. All the victims have been men dressed in some form of drag. The police have increased patrols around the neighborhoods where the attacks have occurred, but so far, nothing and no one has been discovered.
The victims themselves don’t remember much either. The four men all report being clubbed from behind and didn’t see their attacker once they hit the ground.
Bruce stares pensively at the case files on the large monitors in front of him. There’s a trend here, he can see it plain as day. The men are all large, well built, seemingly capable of taking care of themselves if it weren’t for the clothes they were wearing. Fighting back while sporting five-inch heels and wearing restrictive clothing is hard, even for one who’s trained for it.
He knows what he needs to do. At the same time, he also knows he can’t do this alone as there are two places the attacks have occurred at. Bruce scowls even as he formulates his plan.
His boys are going to love this.
*****
Tim stares at Bruce with wide blue eyes, glee practically oozing from every square inch of him. “You mean for once I don’t have to wear a dress? Hell yes!”
Next to him, Dick looks just as happy, though he’s already laughing hard at what he obviously sees coming next. “Oh man, Damian, get ready. This is going to be epic.”
Damian scowls, a match for the one Bruce knows is still on his face. “Isn’t the purpose of these establishments for…men to explore their more feminine side?” he asks, sounding distasteful and uncertain at the same time.
“Yeah, that’s part of it, but not all of it,” Jason chimes in. He’s giving Bruce a rather level look, one that says I know what you’re going to ask me so you better be ready for the consequences. “These clubs are also a form of entertainment. A lot of these guys are performers. They do it to express themselves creatively.”
“So they’re not all gay?” Damian asks bluntly.
Bruce winces, bracing himself for the explosion on gender roles and sexual identification speech from his second son.
“No, they’re not all gay,” Jason snaps. “Just because a man decides to put on a dress and some makeup, it does not make him gay. Society is still so fucking backwards and Puritanical sometimes…”
Tim cuts him off before the diatribe can gain steam. “Damian, have you ever heard of RuPaul?”
“Yes,” the boy replies stiffly, recognizing he’s being tossed a lifeline, even if it is from Tim. “I’ve seen clips of him online.”
“He’s described doing drag as a very political act because it challenges what we accept as the status quo by rejecting fixed identities. At this point in your life, you should know that not everyone fits into the accepted male/female norms.” Tim has his lecturing tone going on, but for once Damian’s not taking offense at it.
Jason, however, is looking at Tim in awe and amazement. “You and I need to have a little chat, baby bird.”
“Anytime,” Tim replies with a wry quirk to his lips.
“So…” Dick tries to steer the conversation back on topic. “I take it the plan is for two of us to dress in drag and make targets of ourselves while two more of us act as backup?”
“Yes.” Bruce is glad for the change in topic, though he does make a mental note to have a talk with Damian later. Perhaps Tim can find some information for him to read. “The men who’ve been attacked are all quite tall and broad shouldered. My plan is for Jason and I to go undercover while you and Tim cover us. Damian, you can shadow along with Dick.”
Jason’s expression grows positively gleeful at the prospect of dressing in drag. “I hope you know what you’re doin’, old man. Most of those costumes, you’re not gonna be able to wear a Batsuit beneath them.”
“I can try,” he replies stiffly.
*****
Bruce does try. The results are ludicrous and he looks like a tent under all the extra fabric swathed over him. He’s come up with dozens of alias and different personas over the years, so coming up with a drag queen costume shouldn’t be this difficult. He nixes the Batsuit and the next one, a simple navy blue dress and a red wig over his short black hair isn’t too bad.
Behind, Alfred observes stoically, though there’s a twinkle in his eyes that belies his amusement in the whole process. “Are you planning on shaving at all, sir?” he asks blithely.
He runs a hand over his face and the five o’clock shadow he’s already sporting. “I think I’ll leave it.”
“I didn’t mean your face, Master Bruce.”
Bruce looks down at his hairy legs poking out from underneath the dress. “Stockings?” Though where he’d find hosiery in his size this late in the afternoon, he’s not entirely sure. He already considers himself lucky there was a dress in their quite considerable costume collection that fits him.
Alfred catches his eye in the mirror and pointedly drops his gaze a bit lower. “I also didn’t mean your legs.”
On the bed behind them, Dick chortles like a hyena while Damian looks on in horror. Why did he agree to let them sit in on this again? He remembers Dick saying something earlier about it being a lesson for Damian, but tuned it out as he went through the costume closet.
Tim and Jason had disappeared together. There’s a sinking feeling in his gut as he contemplates the two of them working together on Jason’s costume. His wild child has no shame and pushes buttons because he can while his third son regularly pulls off being a diabolical genius while still looking like an angel.
There is no doubt in Bruce’s mind that Jason’s costume is going to be provocative. He just hopes they keep it appropriate for the public as he does have to be seen in it.
Bruce drops his eyes in the mirror as well to stare at the dark tangle of chest hair. “I’d rather shave my legs,” he announces.
Damian chokes while Dick falls off the bed.
And to think, these two are supposed to be his backup. As he takes off the dress to retreat to the bathroom, Bruce wonders if it’s too late to switch them out for Tim.
*****
When they convene down in the Cave at the appointed time, Bruce stares in abject horror as Jason saunters across the room, already very much in character. His eyes are done up in a rather stunning display of colorful makeup, the blues and greens reminding him of a peacock. But his outfit…he glances over at Dick to see he’s already trying to place a hand over Damian’s eyes.
“Jason, we’re going to a drag bar, not a BDSM club.”
“Oops, I forgot a piece of my costume,” he leers and holds out his hand imperiously to Tim, who hands him something glittery and with lots of bright feathers.
He puts on what looks like an open jacket made entirely of feathers over the tight leather shorts. He’d somehow found sheer white stockings that fit over his thighs and Bruce could see the clips from the garter belt he was wearing underneath the shorts to hold them up.
There are a pair of shiny black go-go boots with four-inch heels and a platinum blonde wig to complete the look.
Before the jacket is added, that’s all he’d been wearing.
Bruce turns a level gaze on Tim. “I thought you’d keep him in line?”
There’s that innocent look Tim pulls off so well. “Dressing in drag is about freedom of expression, remember?”
“Yeah, Bruce,” Jason’s eyes rake up and down his dowdy-by-comparison costume. “I’m not seeing a lot of freedom there. Looking a bit repressed to me.”
“Let’s go,” he growls and turns away, ignoring the snickering behind him.
*****
Of course, it takes three nights of this before they catch their man. He makes the mistake of going after Jason in all his feathered glory.
Even Bruce has to admit, later on in the Cave as he watches the footage Tim caught with his cowl-cam, that it’s an impressive beat down. Tim must have warned Jason about the man approaching him from behind as he’d turned just in time to catch the pipe that had been aimed at his skull.
The rant he’d delivered about gender roles the entire time he’d kicked the crap out of the man wearing those boots was impressive as well. His son always did have a way with words.
From behind him, Dick chuckles as he watches the recording. “I’m glad Damian decided to switch it up and go with Tim and Jason tonight. That was…educational for him. I think he’s half in love with Jason now.”
“So…do you get to have the talk with him or should I?” He doesn’t turn around, but he can feel the heated look his eldest is giving him.
“He’s already had the basic sex talk, Bruce. One of the few things you can thank Talia for, I might add.”
“I didn’t mean that talk, Dick.”
“You’re his dad. Although, if you ask nicely, Jason may give you some tips.” He can hear the grin in his son’s voice. He’s enjoying this immensely.
Bruce contemplates just asking Jason to do it, but he knows that if he does, his twelve-year-old son is going to get a more graphic education on gender identities, sexual orientation, and who knows what else than he needs at this time in his life. He sighs as he contemplates the task ahead of him.
“Welcome to parenthood, Bruce.” Dick slaps a hand on his shoulder. “You foisted my sex talk off on Alfred. Jason arrived here with more working knowledge than anyone should have for his age, and I’m pretty sure Tim was just born old. Time to step up to the plate and take one for Team Dad.”
He turns and glares at his eldest son. “I will laugh in your face the day you come to me and whine about having to have any kind sex talk with your own child.”
Dick just grins harder.