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Come on Jason!
We'll have a good time, Jason!
You need to loosen up, Jason!
He was plenty loose. Clubbing simply wasn’t his scene. Concerts, sure. Bars, certainly.
But the club with the blinking lights, the too loud music, and the heavy bass?
Generally speaking, hard pass.
But then he had brothers. He really should have considered that part before agreeing to getting adopted.
His life choices were certainly questioned when Dick had barged into his flat, wearing a shirt that looked suspiciously like part of his Nightwing suit from the early days, dragging Replacement and Demon Spawn behind him, declaring that it was time to celebrate the Brat's birthday.
“You’re Jason Todd-Wayne, right? I just loooove Jagged stone,” a grating voice cut through his thoughts.
Jason looked down at the orange claw-like nails that had suddenly appeared on his chest which just so happened to be covered by a t-shirt from Jagged Stone's latest tour.
Coinki-dink.
He followed the offending taloned hand down an arm that held several plastic bangles in colours ranging from burnt turd to the vomit that had followed one night after attempting to drink his own weight in Tequila Sunrise.
The arm was attached to a body. It was, to be fair, a quite fit body.
The body was covered-ish by orange scraps of fabric making out a… dress? That wouldn’t have looked out of place on Kori.
He was quite sure, however, that this woman wasn’t Tamaranean, and her lack of clothes didn’t have the purpose to let her absorb ultraviolet radiation.
Nope, this dress was designed with the purpose of luring weaker men to their doom – or most likely bankruptcy.
Far be it from him to slut-shame anyone, but it was one thing to celebrate your body for the sake of it and something completely different to use it for manipulating someone else. Something he was quite sure was the purpose in this case. He'd been Bruce Wayne's son for too long not to be able to see through that, even if he had taken a uh – leave of absence for a while.
He tried to take a step back to put some distance between them, but she simply followed.
“- just completely adores me.”
Right. Words were coming out.
Jason finally moved on to the face. The eyes that were looking at him, forced wide in what he imagined was supposed to look like innocence.
It was ruined by the shark-like smile though.
He tried to take a step back, but her nails dug into his beloved t-shirt.
If she broke it there would be hell to pay. That was an extremely limited edition.
“Sorry, but I’m not inter -"
“He actually wrote a song about me once after I saved his kitten -"
What?
“- and he was so grateful. Unfortunately, I was injured. My tympanum ruptured from the sound of a jet engine -"
What?
“- at this point he basically sees me like a niece. Or maybe even a daughter.”
Jason cleared his throat.
“Look, lady, I don’t want to -"
“It’s just so great to find someone who likes the same music as I do -"
She virtually launched herself at him and he raised his hands, careful not to touch her at all.
“Hey! Back off,” he growled.
She had the audacity to giggle and attached herself further onto him, lifting her leg and hooking it behind his. He lifted his hands higher so that anyone in the vicinity could see that the interaction was completely one-sided.
He wouldn’t put it past her to make him out to be the bad guy and he did not need that kind of press.
“Let go of me,” he ground out.
He looked around for an assist, like one of his brothers or a bouncer.
He did spot Demon Spawn and the Replacement snickering in the corner. The only fucking times they got along, usually spelled humiliation for him.
He jerked back when she put her clammy hand in his hair and he saw Replacement was about ready to come to his rescue, judging by the way he was biting the nail on his thumb, but Demon Spawn held him back by the arm when he was about to move.
Jason shuddered in revulsion when he felt her tongue lick from his collar to his ear.
“THAT’S IT! I SAID. BACK. OFF!” he yelled at her, still carefully holding his hands up so everyone could see that she was the one doing all the touching.
She made a fake flinch, and her lower lip did a fake tremble before she burst into fake tears.
“But I just wanted to talk to you about music,”
Jason scoffed. “I told you to let go of me and back off several times,” he shouted, making sure to be loud enough that other people would hear him.
She cried prettily and turned around dramatically, running out of the club.
He’d need to have a shower after that, but first he needed a drink.
He flipped off Demon Spawn and Replacement who were now back to arguing as usual. Probably Timmy-boy had a bad conscience about not interfering and gave the Gremlin a piece of his mind for holding him back.
They could both go take a jump off a cliff.
He left the club, not bothering saying goodbye to anyone. He simply shot a text at Dickie-bird stating that he needed surveillance footage from the club because there was no way in hell he was gonna let that bitch get away from being charged with sexual harassment.
If anyone would understand it was Dick.
A bit further down the street, he found what he was looking for.
A nice, quiet-ish place. There was still music and still people, but it was a level where he could still hear himself think.
He sat down at the bar
“What'll it be?”
He looked at the bartender who looked back at him with complete disinterest.
Perfect. All he wanted was to be left alone.
“Whatever you have that’s strong and isn’t any shade of orange.”
Even the thought of the colour gave him a slight bout of nausea.
The bartender lifted an eyebrow at his strangely specific order but complied anyway.
“Oh, and some water too.”
The bartender rolled his eyes but put a bottle in front of him.
He grabbed a bunch of tissue and wetted them with the water to wash the place where that harlot had put her tongue.
Jesus, he sounded just like Damian. He felt justified though.
“The bathroom is that way if you need the mirror,”
A voice pointed out to his left.
He froze in his actions to see a woman looking at him nervously.
She quickly broke their eye contact. “Not that you can’t wash yourself here, I mean it’s not like you can’t do what you want – I mean, you can do what you want, I just thought that maybe if you’d like to wash yourself that maybe having a mirror would be nicer for you and more convenient so that you didn’t miss any spots of whatever it is that you’re trying to wash away…”
She trailed off awkwardly after her rant. She looked up at him again and he was caught by the blue in her eyes. It was odd how a cold colour like blue could make him feel so warm.
He gave a small chuckle. “Thanks, but I think I got all of it.”
She looked down again and her cheeks turned pink. ”Cool, cool, that’s nice.”
In averting her eyes from his, she made a small look down and her eyes widened slightly before her lips quirked up in a small smirk.
“Nice shirt,”
He groaned internally and looked down at the woman.
“Don’t tell me – you’re a fan too?”
She smiled widely. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
She was wearing a cutesy pink dress with a bow at the top, and a flared skirt. She wore black pumps that had a floral design in the same colour as the dress. A small purse was slung across her shoulder – also with a bow and a cutesy design.
There was no way in fucking hell that she wasn’t lying.
Jason scoffed. “Right, if you’re such a fan – what kind of pet does he have?”
Her face scrunched up in confusion. “Excuse me?”
He rolled his eyes hard. “Bet you don’t any other songs than Lady Luck,” he sneered and took a gulp of his drink.
Her mouth fell slightly open in disbelief. “What the hell kind of gatekeeping is that? What, like I’m some sort of fake fan if I don’t know the name of his grandfather’s cousin’s barber’s wife?”
“I uh -" He floundered a bit, taken aback by the way her shy rambling had suddenly turned into a harsh scolding.
“And what about you, big shot? If you’re such a fan, what’s the name of his favourite bakery?”
“That’s – I – okay, look, I’m sorry, you just don’t seem like the type to -"
He gestured at her frankly adorable outfit that, while wasn’t exactly Jagged Stone-esque, still did make his pants feel a bit tight. And he was wearing cargos.
“That is so judgemental!”
She pulled out her phone and furiously started typing, mumbling something that sounded like “… getting his fucking way… wearing a tutu… next album… tiara…”
Jason ran a hand down his face and sighed heavily.
“I uh – I know. I’m sorry. I just had a really bad night.”
Her outrage seemed to melt a bit and she tilted her head.
“You’re the second person to notice the shirt and the other one tried to use it as some sort of opener. Really didn’t take no for an answer and she just kept going on and on about saving Jagged Stone’s kitten and being like a daughter to him and all sorts of bullshit. She licked my neck for fuck's sake,” he ranted, gesturing at the place he'd wiped with the napkins.
The woman made a face. “That’s outrageous,”
“I know! Jagged Stone has a crocodile. There’s no way he’d have a kitten. It would be eaten within a day,”
She chuckled. “I meant the licking. That’s disgusting – and what do you mean, eaten? Fang wouldn’t hurt a fly!” she defended the crocodile.
Jason’s eyes widened. “You know the name?”
“Fang is nothing but a sweetheart! He'd never hurt anyone! Unless Jagged tells him to, of course which he’s gotten better at not doing!”
“Uh – okay? Good for them?”
She chuckled, but then her face fell.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“What?”
“You just told me you had a bad day and the reason why, so if you want, I can go and leave you alone. I'd understand if you didn’t want company,”
She gave him another smile that was tinted with a bit of sadness.
“No!” He rushed out. “I'd love -I mean, I'd like to talk some more.”
And he really did. She was honest, he could tell. He didn’t know if she recognised him, but either way, she didn’t seem to care. There was no fake flattery and she called him out in his bullshit as soon as it left his mouth.
She introduced herself as Marinette and they talked for hours, moving from topic to topic and from friendly talking to banter and to heavy flirting.
It was amazing.
He hadn’t even noticed the time until the bartender came to kick them out.
She jumped down from the stool and he finally noticed how short she was. She might not even reach his shoulder if he stood at his full height.
She gave him a secretive smile and came closer, putting a hand gingerly on his knee.
“Let me make your evening better,” she whispered.
Hell fucking yes, please.
Then she turned away from him, much to his disappointment.
“Do you have a pen?” she asked the bartender who rolled his eyes and threw her a permanent marker.
“Hey!” he shouted when she grabbed the bottom of his shirt and fucking wrote on it.
“There.” She smiled in satisfaction. “Now your shirt is worth about ten thousand dollars more.”
His nose scrunched in confusion, and he looked down at what she’d written.
MDC
MD fucking C?
He looked up at Marinette in disbelief and while he was paralysed with shock, she took the opportunity to write her number on the back of his hand.
She kissed his cheek, turned around and left.
He punched in the number on his phone and called it immediately.
It rang before she had even reached the door.
“Hello?”
She turned around with an amused smile but didn’t hang up or come closer.
“Would you like to go on a date with me?”
Her smile widened and her cheeks turned a deep pink.
“I'd love that.”
“Great. How about breakfast. Like right now.”
“Sounds good,”
She looked at him shrewdly. “This is Jason, right? Because I think I don’t really want to date anyone else at the moment,”
Jason’s breath hitched.
“Yeah. Yes. That’s uh – that’s me,”
“Are you coming then?”
His smile widened to a grin, and he hung up, jogging over to join her.
He carefully wrapped an arm around her waist, afraid that he might be overstepping, but she leaned into him with a sigh.
“Waffles or pancakes?” he asked.
“I don’t care, as long as they have good coffee,”