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This wasn’t the type of case Bruce preferred- comic-con was definitely more of Tim’s thing, and that thought brought a sense of sadness to him. He missed his kids terribly, even though they were inarguably chaotic and frequently prone to stupid choices. He missed Dick’s smile, and even his propensity for acrobatics inside the house (the first time he saw Dick do a handstand and walk down the stairs, his heart stopped for a moment.) He missed Jason’s snark and the way that he was so protective of his family. He missed Tim’s intellect, and even his poor self-care habits (and he hated that he couldn’t be around to gently direct his son towards solid food and bed. He missed Damian’s softness around his animals, and the prickliness that gave way to the child underneath. He missed Steph’s spunkiness and resilience, and he even missed the abundance of purple. He missed Cass’s intuitiveness, and the way she-
“Neal?” Peter asked, waving his hand in front of Bruce’s face and pulling the man from his bittersweet thoughts of his kids.
“Sorry Peter,” he flashed his handler a grin- he wished he could brag about his kids to the agent, but he was undercover for the Justice League and had to keep to his role. That was also why he hadn’t seen his kids much lately, and it was starting to feel unbearable being away. He ignored the other agents in the room, turning towards the TV monitor and waiting for Peter to continue.
“As I was saying, our suspect, Leroy Harper, apparently has a propensity for fencing stolen goods at large comic conventions” at that, Bruce had to suppress a smile- the making of this case had his children’s fingerprints all over it. And their significant others too, apparently- Leroy Harper might have a thing for fencing stolen memorabilia at conventions, but Roy Harper was Jason’s boyfriend. Briefly, he wondered if he should be more angry at his kids for wasting federal time and money, or if should intervene in some way as to prevent that waste.
But this was much better than mortgage fraud, so he said nothing and waited for Peter to continue.
“Unfortunately, the merchandise he favors is Gotham vigilante themed, which means there’s no way to apprehend him prior to the theft of the memorabilia.”
“What about the Gotham FBI branch?” Jones asked.
“Glad you asked,” Peter said, unable to completely hide his sarcastic tone, “I’ve been told they have more pressing matters to deal with. Something involving a clown? Regardless, we’re not going to travel to Gotham and they can’t spare any agents to travel here, so we have to get him on fencing the stolen items.” Bruce couldn’t help but feel a tendril of concern bloom in his chest, he hoped Jason was doing okay if the Joker did something worth FBI attention, and cursed himself for not being there should Jason need support or help calming down from a panic attack.
“Neal will go undercover,” at ‘his’ name, Bruce snapped his attention back towards Peter and away from the Rogue, “as an attendee of the convention. Metropolis FBI is loaning us a reporter from the Daily Planet that owes them a favor, Clark Kent.” At that, a figure Bruce hadn’t heard slip into the room- he really needed to brush up on his skills, the Caffrey cover had made his impeccable situational awareness rusty, apparently- leaned away from the wall and looked directly at Bruce, smirking and giving the room a wave, “he’ll snoop around the press and see how much they know. Alright, you all know what you need to be doing. Dismissed.” Peter waved generally in the direction of the door, and most of the room’s occupants shuffled out to go back to their desks. Bruce stayed seated, grinning at Peter.
“I wouldn’t be so happy,” Peter said, “you have to wear a costume for this, some nerd-thing.”
“Still better than mortgage fraud,” Bruce said, shrugging, “and it won’t be so bad. I’m thinking I could go as Batman, I-”
“I don’t think that’s going to work, there’s no way you could pull off a Batman costume.” He heard Clark, just outside the conference room and obviously listening in, start to laugh before trying to disguise it as a cough, the jerk.
“Diana, back me up here, because Peter obviously cannot see what’s directly in front of him. I could so pull off a Batman costume,” he kept his tone light, sounding mock-offended.
“Sorry Caffrey, I’m with the Boss on this one. You’re too stringy,” that was more of a trick of his posture than anything else, but he couldn’t just say that without suspicion arising amongst the agents. He really didn’t want to have to return to the days of threats of prison every day- it had gotten very old, very quickly, but he sat there and took it for the sake of the mission.
“Jones?” Bruce threw out his last lifeline, trying to direct his best pleading expression towards the agent.
“Sorry man,” Jones said, “you know how much I love the Gotham vigilantes, but they’re right, you couldn’t pull off a Batman.”
“Someone will find a costume for you, and I better not hear any complaints. It’s better than an orange jumpsuit, right?” Just because the prison comments were no longer daily, it still rankled whenever he encountered the unfortunate way in which he was being treated as a CI.
“Fine,” he emphasized his sigh as he capitulated on the matter. He just hoped that whatever the FBI managed to find as a costume for him wouldn’t be so bad.
☀◈◈☀◈◈☀
It was very much bad, Bruce soon learned as he was presented with a Green Lantern costume to wear.
“No,” he said flatly, “there’s no way.”
“I told you Neal, no complaints unless you’d rather be wearing an orange jumpsuit.” Bruce rolled his eyes, then held out his hand for the costume, looking at the party story knockoff of Hal’s suit with distaste.
“What if it doesn’t fit?” he asked hopefully- after all, he was much more broad shouldered than he projected in the Caffrey persona, there was a good chance that it was the wrong size.
“Make it work,” Peter said, before disappearing up the stairs to his office.
On second thought, Bruce could happily strangle his kids right then for staging this case.
☀◈◈☀◈◈☀
The costume fit, somehow, dashing any hope that he’d be able to get away with not wearing the Green Lantern suit. Which is how he found himself in the office on the morning of the operation in full Hal regalia, watching Clark quickly look away and snort quietly into his coffee every time he caught sight of Bruce.
☀◈◈☀◈◈☀
The advantage of this being an FBI operation was that he was able to skip the long line for entrance- the queue of people snaked around an entire block, showcasing the attendees’ vibrant and complex costumes (or, as Bruce had learned, ‘cosplays.’) As he stepped into the convention center, his eyes darted around the large entrance to take in his surroundings. There were signs for the convention floor, panels, and Artist’s Alley- his target would be working the convention floor, he knew, so he headed in that direction.
Some person stumbled, knocking into Bruce; he turned to make sure the other person was okay, then rolled his eyes when he saw the figure turn around. In a poorly constructed Batman cosplay stood Dick Grayson, wearing a shit-eating grin. The costume choice was definitely intentional, seeing as the younger man had his own legitimate Batman costume from his time under the cowl.
“Sorry,” Dick said as he grinned brightly, “didn’t mean to stumble like that!” and that was a bald-faced lie, the acrobat didn’t just stumble; Bruce shook his head, a smile starting to creep onto his face until Dick continued, “Love the costume! Are you a Green Lantern fan?”
“More of a Batman fan, really, but my friends told me I’d never pull the costume off.”
“Seriously?” Dick asked, amusement clear on his face even with the cowl. Then he backtracked, “I mean, I think you could have pulled it off. Anyways, can I grab a picture with you? Thanks,” he said before Bruce could agree, and found himself with one of Dick’s arms slung around his shoulders as the man flagged down a random passerby to ask if they would take the picture, before handing the stranger his camera.
And that was no random passerby, Bruce realized as the figure that now possessed the camera turned around. Tim too was wearing a poorly constructed Batman costume and wearing an equally large grin underneath the cowl.
“Looking good!” he said, giving the duo a thumbs up, and Bruce rolled his eyes- Tim took that opportune moment to take the picture, the bright flash from the camera blinding him temporarily. He blinked a few times to clear the spots from his vision, then he found Tim and Dick switching places.
“I wanted a photo too,” Tim explained, “oh my gosh, we should find the rest of the Justice League for one big picture!” Bruce heard the message, Clark was not the only other undercover League member here. He scanned the room, looking for familiar faces, and quietly cursed under his breath as he made eye contact with the real Green Lantern, wearing a tacky party store Flash costume.
“Is everything okay, Neal?” He was suddenly reminded of the fact that there were others listening in, and Peter must have heard Bruce’s quiet string of profanities.
“I’d love to stick around and do just that, but I promised my sons that I’d get them some souvenirs from the convention, so I’ll be on my way. They’re big Batman fans. Lovely meeting you,” he politely excused himself, ignoring Dick’s shout of Are you sure? I think one’s a Wonder Woman fan! Bruce only feared to know what Diana had decided to dress up as.
He started to quickly duck in and out of the crowd on his way to the convention floor, where the suspect’s storefront would be stationed. However, he didn’t get very far before hearing the familiar voice from a figure leaning against a wall.
“Love your costume,” Jason said, and Bruce caught his son’s smirk as he turned his head, noticing the younger man was also clad in a poor rendition of the Batman costume, “My dad’s a big fan of Green Lantern, could I get a picture with you? For him?”
“Sure thing, chum,” Bruce sighed- Jason certainly knew what to say to appeal to him, and calling him Dad warmed his heart and made it impossible to deny the boy anything, “does there just so happen to be somebody waiting by to hold the camera?”
“Aunt Diana!” Jason called out in response, then waved Wonder Woman herself over. She too was dressed in a poor rendition of an Aquaman costume, and grinned as she saw Bruce’s costume before snapping a picture. He then tried to make himself scarce as quickly as possible, not wanting to have an additional conversation for Peter to listen in on, and equally not wanting to delay the op further.
He managed to get a few more yards before a younger boy stepped firmly in Bruce's path, his hands on his hips. Similarly to Dick, Tim, and Jason, Damian was also in a Batman cosplay. And, like the costumes of his brothers, Damian's too was poorly constructed. Due to his small size, they were able to be incredibly resourceful in obtaining materials, and thus the boy's costume looked like a hodgepodge mess. Damian himself didn't look thrilled about that development, especially as Bruce watched him trip on the oversized beach towel that was fashioned into a cape.
"Your costume is substandard," Damian said frankly, and Bruce heard Dick call out something that prompted Damian to say, "disregard my previous criticism, your costume is adequate." His scowl was too cute, but Bruce refrained from saying anything, hoping that would save both his cover and his shins from likely subsequent kicking.
“I like your costume too,” Bruce said with a small smile, and watched as Damian scowled further, “but I have to be off, I have some merchants I’d like to visit before the afternoon panels.”
“Enjoy the celebration of inanity,” Damian sounded thoroughly unimpressed, but let Bruce pass by with no further comment.
☀◈◈☀◈◈☀
His kids kept popping up everywhere- all of them, and all in poorly constructed Batman costumes. Dick’s costume included a pair of black, scaly, and very short shorts, and Bruce never needed to see those shorts on a Batman costume, thank you very much Jason’s was, in his words, a “modern reinterpretation of the Batman costume, old man,” that consisted of a black leather jacket over a t-shirt with the bat symbol on it. Tim’s costume was cobbled together from the various disguises they kept in the Batcave, with the most prevalent pieces being from some of the best cases he worked during his tenure as Robin (the nostalgia made Bruce’s heart ache in longing to return to his kids.) Damian was dressed as ‘Punk Batman,’ and Bruce could clearly see that Damian’s costume was a product of a collaboration between his eldest sons. Steph was a very purple rendition of the Batman. Cass was dressed as ‘ninja-Batman,’ combining two terrible party store costumes for the full effect. Duke was “rave Batman” (Bruce wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know what that meant.) Babs, fortunately, was working the comms for the other bats and was thus unable to bump into Bruce in costume- she had a terrifyingly sharp sense of humor and took no shit, even from him, so he feared any parody costume she might have come up with.
He thought he had managed to locate all the participating bats, but then his cousin popped up in front of him, also in a creative rendition of the Batman costume.
“Just stop it, please,” he said, nearly begging as he raised his hand in a ‘stop’ gesture, “what are you even supposed to be anyways?”
“Butch Batman, of course,” she said.
“Of course,” he echoed flatly, but the tiny upward quirk of his mouth gave him away.
☀◈◈☀◈◈☀
By the end of the day, Bruce was thoroughly done with just about everything. It was a long day, trying to balance the shenanigans of his family with his actual federal government-sanctioned operation (good thing the entire case was staged by his kids, and there was no actual urgency in closing it.) So imagine his surprise when he pushed open the door to his apartment, looking forward to a nice night of sleep, and instead found someone looking out over the balcony- an elderly gentleman in a black trenchcoat, reminiscent of film noir.
“You too, Alfred?”