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Bruce was grounded. It was completely unfair. All he had done was break some asshole’s nose. Two asshole’s noses. Two noses and an arm, but it was more of a fracture than anything and as previously mentioned, he was an ass.
After a long argument with Alfred over whether you could punch the asshole out of someone he was grounded and sent to his room to brood. Not sulk, brood; there's a difference.
He was in the middle of writing some dark poetry to properly express his feelings when he heard something tapping against his window.
He opened the window to investigate the cause of the tap and was promptly hit on the forehead with a rock.
“Oh shit,” said a voice from the ground.
“Harvey? What the fuck are you doing here?” said Bruce, because it was his best friend Harvey who was pegging rocks at his window at like eleven at night.
“I'm breaking you out,” said Harvey, who seemed to be completely over the rock thing, despite the fact that his forehead was still fucking hurting.
“I'm grounded. You know. For fighting. On your behalf,” said Bruce, who was admittedly still a little pissed from getting hit in the face.
“I'm really sorry about that. I wanted to help, but I can't afford to lose my scholarship and I-” said Harvey.
“It's fine. Chill. I would've fought them for literally any reason. Especially since they're classist assholes,” interrupted Bruce. Harvey relaxed.
“Come on. Let me make it up to you. Please,” said Harvey.
“I can't,” said Bruce, “I'm grounded, remember?”
“Fine then I'm kidnapping you, now hurry up,” said Harvey.
“That's not how kidnapping works,” Bruce grumbled as he jumped out of the window. Unfortunately, he didn't quite stick the landing and hit the ground hard. Harvey laughed like the traitorous ass he was. He glared at Harvey as he pushed himself up.
“Jerk,” said Bruce, but there was no real venom to it. He was generally angry, but not at Harvey. Never Harvey. Unless it's about a rock that hit him in the face, yes he was still on the rock thing. “What are we going to do anyway?”
Harvey threw and arm around his shoulder and gestured outwards with the other and said “Anything we want.”
“Well Harv, that's very cool and vague and all but that doesn't actually answer the question,” said Bruce.
“Fine. Maybe we'll finally teach you how to skateboard,” said Harvey.
They would try to do that, but a bit too much alcohol caused a trip to the emergency room for a broken arm and a stern lecture from Alfred.
----
Bruce woke up tied up in a chair. This was not the first time this had happened to him. Not even that year and it was February. He also had a pounding headache which was less common, but still happened. It seemed he had been drugged. He took a minute to clear his head and inspected his surroundings. He was tied up with vines which could only mean-
“Hello Brucie,” said Poison Ivy.
“Hello. It appears I've been kidnapped,” said Bruce. It was quite possible that not all the drugs had cleared from his system.
“And they said you were dumb,” said Ivy. That hurt.
“May I have a reason for being kidnapped? Is that allowed? I'm still relatively new to being kidnapped by super villains, sorry,” said Bruce.
“You're company is building on the site of an endangered plant,” said Ivy.
“Can you tell me which site so we can stop building there and move to a different location?” asked Bruce. Maybe he would get home in time for a half hour nap before he had to put Ivy back in Arkham.
“That's it?”
“Why would it not be?”
“People are terrible monsters who do nothing but destroy innocents.”
“Maybe, but you know me.”
“I do?” asked Ivy. Why did Bat God hate him specifically. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep. Could he take the nap in the chair? Would she kill him for that?
“We were lab partners in Chemistry for like half the year,” said Bruce.
“We were?” asked Ivy. This was getting very insulting.
“Yes. You accidentally lit me on fire once. How do you not remember that?” said Bruce.
“Wow, look at Brucie Wayne. Too special to be the only person who I've ever accidentally set on fire,” said Ivy.
“I'm sorry, how many people on average do you light on fire,” said Bruce.
“That's beside the point. We were talking about the fact that you're killing plants.”
“I already said I wouldn't. You could have just told me that instead of drugging me, kidnapping me, and I'm going to guess there was going to be some type of torture involved,” said Bruce. Ivy almost looked ashamed.
Instead she shivered. Now that he thought about it she had been doing it a lot. It wasn't surprising considering it was February and she was essentially wearing a one piece swimsuit. He fought a brief mental battle with himself over what to do because on one hand Alfred taught him to be a gentleman and respect women, but on the other hand she kidnapped him and he's a petty bitch.
“Do you want my jacket,” he said with a long suffering sigh. Alfred had taught him too well.
Ivy glared at him suspiciously. “I'm a lesbian,”
“I'm not hitting on you, you look cold and I'm doing a nice thing.”
“People don't do nice things for the admittedly beautiful people that kidnapped them,” said Ivy and props to her for that humble brag.
“Unfortunately for me, I do,” he said. “Do you want it or not?”
“Sure,” she said. And the plants holding his arms released enough for him to get the jacket off. He noticed they didn't tighten afterwards. The jacket was hilariously big on her but she managed to make it work in her own weird, green way. “So you weren't murdering those plants?”
“Yeah,” said Bruce, who was quite frankly done with this whole ordeal.
“Then I'm done here,” she said and she turned and walked away.
“So you're just going to go? Okay then. I'll just stay here then. With my legs still tied to the chair,” Bruce called after her. She flipped him off without looking back. And with that Bruce was alone. Maybe he'd take a nap before he escaped.
…
“You're probably wondering why I brought you here. To the sewer. At one in the morning. And tied you up. And hung you upside down.”
“No shit,” said Bruce. He might've been a little rude, but he felt like it was justified given the previously listed circumstances.
“I need dating advice and since you're like, a playboy I figured you can help,” said Killer Croc because this was his life.
Bruce just gave him a look. The look lost some of its power because he was upside down, but the point got across. “Seriously?”
Croc had the gall not to look ashamed. “Seriously.”
“Alright,” said Bruce. He wished that it was the weirdest thing to happen to him that week, but that wasn't the case. Why was it never the case? “But are you sure you want that from me? Most of my serious girlfriends die brutally.
“That's rough,” Croc said and patted him on the shoulder, a move that was made awkward by the fact that he was upside down. It turned into a weird scooping motion, but it got the job done.
“I'd say it's rougher for them, but thanks for the condolences,” said Bruce. Croc probably started talking after that, but Bruce didn't hear. He was too busy disassociating and going through mental slideshow of all his dead girlfriends and boyfriends. It took longer than he liked. After that 30 minutes was up he finally started paying attention to what Croc was saying.
“-and that's why I think I'm afraid to let myself get emotionally intimate,” said Croc.
“That sounds about right,” said Bruce. He did feel bad that he hadn't payed attention, but it probably wouldn't have helped as this was a conversation about feelings and Bruce had about four of those.
“So… you really like this girl?” asked Bruce.
“Yeah. I said that like five times,” said Croc. Ha! He really was the world's greatest detective.
“There's a lot of blood rushing to my head” Bruce said by way of explanation.
“Oops. My bad, little buddy,” said Croc and cut him down. Unfortunately he landed in the sewer water. More unfortunately, his mouth was open because he was trying to tell Croc not to call him that when he fell in.
Croc pulled him back out with one hand. Bruce spat out a lot of sewer water.
“Sorry about that,” said Croc. Bruce coughed out more water. “So what should I do?”
“I'll tell you what I always do,” Bottle up your emotions and never talk to anyone about them ever. “Tell her how you feel,” said Bruce. Croc pondered that for a moment.
“You're right. Thanks little buddy,” said Croc.
“Anytime,” said Bruce, and then immediately regretted it.
“You know, you're pretty cool for a billionaire. I'm glad I never ate you,” said Croc. Bruce didn't know if he was joking.
“Thank you. I enjoy not being eaten,” said Bruce.
“You're funny. . Anyway I have to go or my head will explode, but we should hang out sometime,” said Croc. Then he took off down the sewer without waiting for a response which was rude and also splashing Bruce with even more sewer water which was more rude.
“Let's do that,” said Bruce, unenthusiastically. He really hated his life sometimes.
…
It was probably troubling that waking up in his own bed was a shock. It was probably more troubling that it was a bigger shock than two criminals being in his room with him. And yet there he was, Selina Kyle on one side, sitting in his most comfortable chair and stroking a cat she got from who knows where and Talia al Ghul on the other, sharpening her sword while staring dramatically out a window and all he was shocked by was the fact that this was all taking place in his room.
Talia was impeccably dressed as always. Selina was wearing one of his shirts and nothing else.
“Good, you're awake. Do you know what day it is?” asked Talia without looking away from the window. She didn't seem too angry so that was a good sign.
“Our anniversary?” said Bruce to Talia. She shook her head.
“Our anniversary?” said Bruce to Selina. She also shook her head.
“Our anniversary?” said Bruce to both of them. Talia sighed and Selina face palmed.
“It's your birthday,” said Selina. The dumbass was not said and he mentally applauded her restraint.
“Oh yeah. That,” said Bruce. He probably would've remembered later. Or Alfred would've reminded him.
Talia muttered something that sounded like “world's greatest detective my ass,” but Bruce chose to ignore her.
“Why did you move me from the cot in the cave,” asked Bruce.
“We kidnapped you. You're not doing any work today. Instead you're going to stay here with your two amazing girlfriends who love you and each other very much,” said Selina. Talia nodded in agreement.
“As fun as that sounds I have work to do. This doesn't count as a kidnapping. We're in my house,” said Bruce. Bruce did not have work to do, but the idea of not doing work made him feel guilty. Then again, everything made him feel guilty. He would've been an excellent Catholic if he wasn't Jewish.
“Yes it does because I say so. And you're not getting up,” said Selina.
“How are you going to stop me?” asked Bruce. He was fairly certain he could could jump out the window if it came to that. It was only a two story fall. He survived worse that that.
“Look down,” she said. He did. There was a sleeping cat on top of him. Checkmate.
“Not even my father would move a cat while it sleeps. Are you going to be a bigger monster than Ra’s al Ghul?” asked Talia smugly. Selina didn't even have to say anything to be smug. Bruce found it weirdly hot.
“No,” he said defeatedly. They both impossibly became more smug.
“Good, because I borrowed some iconic movies from Holly that I know for a fact you neither of you have seen. First up is Mean Girls,” said Selina. Selina went to put the movie on and Talia, still holding her sword, got into the bed with him and Selina wasn't far behind.
Bruce was on the verge of relaxation when a thought occurred to him. “Where are all my children? I've been awake for five minutes and I haven't heard a single yell or crash so they're definitely not here,” said Bruce. It was either that or they were planning something and he'd rather that they all moved out at the same time then teaming up for any non crime fighting related activities.
“They went to the mall for last minute present shopping,” said Talia. Thank God. And good, he needed some new socks.
“Now shut up and watch the movie,” said Selina. If Selina wasn't already a professional criminal she would've made a great dominatrix. Bruce did whatever the past tense for shut up is and watched the movie.
…
“Riddle me this, Wayne. What-”
“Fuck off Nygma.”
“...Okay. But only because I want to. Not because you told me to.”
…
“Well this is unfortunate,” said Bruce. Bruce was where Bruce often was, which is to say tied up in a vaguely kinky way in some abandoned factory with a super villain.
“I'll say. I'm about to torture you for no reason. Isn't that funny?” said the J*ker with his stupid voice.
“Not really,” said Bruce in the bitchiest tone he could manage, which was pretty fucking bitchy.
The J*ker approached with his various torture instruments at the same time as a very familiar, son shaped figure.
“No. Stop. Don't,” said Bruce halfheartedly.
“Now I'm no expert on being tortured, but I'm pretty sure you should care more,” said the J*ker.
“I wasn't talking to you,” said Bruce. And then the J*ker got shot repeatedly. Probably more times than necessary, but Bruce didn't really care.
“I'm so sorry my finger slipped,” said Jason, who didn't sound sorry at all, but once again Bruce didn't really care.
“You're grounded young man,” said Bruce.
“No I'm not,” said Jason.
“Can't argue with that. Untie me so we can get some ice cream,” said Bruce. Jason obliged and they both made sure to step on the J*ker’s ugly bastard corpse. All and all it was one of his better kidnappings.