Work Text:
“Wait a second,” you requested, trying in vain to wrap your mind around what you’d just been told. “You’re telling me there’s a pumpkin patch in Gotham? Why haven’t we been?”
You couldn’t see it because of his helmet, but you could tell Jason raised his eyebrow at you based off the way he cocked his head. “Because you moved here after Halloween last year?”
“So?”
“Mama, I assume you know full well that pumpkin patches aren’t open after Fall ends,” Damian chimed in. Now, his confusion was perfectly clear to you since most of his face was exposed, and there was simply no mistaking the way his mouth twisted around the expression.
“It’s been Fall for weeks now though, and Hood failed to mention it to me before now,” you complained.
A breathy, mechanical chuckle could be heard through Jason’s helmet. “Alright, you got me there. I didn’t think about it until now.”
“And it was Scarecrow of all things that reminded you,” Damian scoffed. “Typical.”
Red Hood was as swift as a speedster in the way he caught his ‘son’ in a headlock to ruffle his black hair. “You better watch your tone with me, young man!”
“Baba!” Damian complained loudly.
“Well, at least I know what we’re doing this weekend,” you announced, voice light with your laughter. “Oracle, can you arrange for us to have the day off Saturday?”
“If it’ll get Robin out and about like a normal kid, I’ll do anything,” the redhead was all too happy to say.
“Hey!” Damian protested, freezing in his attempt to escape. “I’m not a kid! I’m a trained assassin!”
“Well, this trained assassin is going to go on a hayride with his parents whether he likes it or not,” you stated, pulling your mask down long enough to stick your tongue out at him.
“Mama!”
“No whining, habibi. Besides, these places usually have petting zoos.”
“Why didn’t you say so before?!” he cried. “We have to go!”
Again, you could sense Jason rolling his eyes fondly. “Alright, sign me up.”
The peaceful quiet of the Gotham night was instantly split by twin whoops of joy as you hauled your son up on your shoulders in celebration.
“Funtime is over,” Batman’s gruff voice came over the comms followed almost immediately by sirens filling the air. “We’ve got work to do.”
“Yes, boss,” Jason said with a sarcastic little salute. “Back to business. Pumpkins can wait until Saturday.”
“Last one there’s a rotten egg!” you cried, already taking a running leap off the building.
“That’s cheating!” the boys called after you automatically.