Chapter Text
“No, no, nope, absolutely not,” Jason said, and slammed the safehouse door in Bruce’s face before the man could get one word out of his open mouth. Because of course Bruce would never stop by unannounced unless he wanted something.
“Jason, please,” Bruce said through the door. “Just listen to my request, that’s all I ask.”
Jason snorted, but he felt his face growing hot. “Don’t you already have an army of underlings that jump at your beck and call? Have one of them do it.”
“It’s undercover work,” Bruce said. “You’d be the best for the job.”
Jason opened the door and stood there, so he could stare at Bruce at let him know just how unimpressed he was, with his arms folded. “Really?” he sneered. “Why? Need someone killed and you still don’t have the guts to do it, and you don’t want any of the others to dirty their hands?”
The look in Bruce’s eyes was almost hurt. “Jason, you know that’s not what I think of you, and it’s not that kind of mission, it’s, well, can I explain inside?”
Jason barely refrained from rolling his eyes and stepped aside to let Bruce pass. He’d probably regret this, but he was a little curious to at least know what Bruce wanted. He closed the door and leaned against it. “Alright, so what’s this special undercover mission that only I can help with?” he asked.
Bruce sighed. “There have been a few murders at the Gotham Public Library, we think the murderer is picking his or her victims at the book club meetings. The plan is to go undercover at the meetings, and try to find the murderer.”
Jason sputtered for a few moments at a loss for words. “You think I wouldn’t stand out at a book club?” he managed after a while. “Have Goldie do it, he loves acting.” And as satisfying as it was to throw an offer back in Bruce’s face, it kind of hurt to suggest that Dick could do just as well, even in areas Jason was uniquely qualified. And he probably would. Even if Jason doubted Dick could sit still for a whole meeting, he’d probably charm every single book club member into loving him after the first meeting, even the murderer.
Bruce got a pained, slightly embarrassed look on his face. “This month’s book is The Count of Monte Cristo. When I asked Dick how familiar he was with it, he asked if it was a new breakfast cereal.”
Jason stared at Bruce for a moment, feeling his jaw drop. Then he burst into laughter.
“So you see why I could use your help,” Bruce continued amid Jason’s laughter. “I need someone who could keep up an insightful discussion of the book, so the murderer doesn’t get suspicious.”
A mean petty part of Jason still wanted to turn Bruce away (and pop some popcorn and watch the disaster fest that he was sure the mission would turn into with Bruce and whichever bat he managed to rope into the mission). But Jason’s better side, the part that had truly enjoyed being Robin years ago, wanted to give in. Not necessarily for Bruce, but for the mission, and to save the life of whichever literature-lover might be next on the murderer’s list if the mission was botched. Besides, it was Count of Monte Cristo. He couldn’t let the other little bats and birds mangle it. “Fine,” he said, after giving a suitably dramatic pause. “But I’m working with you, not for you.”
Bruce smiled, as if this was all he ever wanted. “Thanks, Jason. I appreciate this.”
Jason grumbled about needing to get his things ready, and scowled and frowned, since he wasn’t sure how else to deal with Bruce like this, and he didn’t expect it to last. He hoped the mission wouldn’t be too painfully awkward.
“Breakfast cereal? Really Goldie?” Jason asked when he arrived at the Manor hours later with his things.
“Hey, in my defense I thought Bruce said Count of Monte Crispo, and how was I supposed to know that wasn’t Count Chocula’s new cousin, who also happened to be related to the wolf from Cookie Crisps?” Dick said with an easy grin, not embarrassed at all. “Besides you’re better for the job, so it all worked out, huh?”
“Yeah, all the book club members would be scarred for life if they had to deal with you making pop culture references throughout the whole story,” Jason said, ignoring how it made him feel that both Bruce and Dick considered him the most qualified, even if it was for a minor thing like literary discussion.
“Good thing he has you to go undercover as his literature nerd of a son,” Dick teased.
“Wait, what?” Jason almost shouted. He hadn’t expected Bruce to play his ‘dad’, this was a whole other can of worms that he hadn’t signed up for. “I thought we’d be going as separate book club members.”
“It raises less suspicion to have two new members at once if we’re related,” Bruce said, emerging from the other room and looking appropriately dad-ified with a fake beard and pair of glasses. His personality felt mellowed, less like Brucie or Batman, and more like when he used to read Jason stories at night, after peeling off the bat suit.
“And what kind of son am I supposed to play?” Jason demanded. “The giant disappointment who just got out of prison?”
Dick took that as his cue to slip out of the room, and Bruce sighed heavily. “You can make up your own story for your persona, Jason,” he said. “Whatever you feel most comfortable with. I was thinking soldier who just got back from overseas, and always loved books, and is trying to find his place in Gotham again, but you can adjust the background however you like.”
That was not what Jason expected Bruce to say at all, and he swallowed back a lump in his throat. Still, it was an unnecessarily flashy background, and would invite way too many questions and sympathy. “Soldier would attract too much attention,” Jason said. “What about volunteer work, or English teaching?” Jason held himself back from adding ‘secret drug runner on the side’, since he didn’t think Bruce would find it as amusing as he did.
“I think we’re just about ready to get started,” Bruce said.
They spent a few more hours of hashing out the identities: Thomas Worthington and his son Peter. Thomas was a retired high school history teacher, and Peter had just returned to Gotham from a few years of teaching English in Uruguay. Bruce almost immediately obtained the corresponding ID cards, and Jason had to admit there were definitely advantages to being well-connected and money not even being an issue. Then, because Jason’s brothers and Alfred were evil sadists, they dressed him, giving him a fake pair of glasses and nerdy clothes to wear as his disguise. And they dyed his hair one consistent color to stand out less.
“I look like a chump,” Jason complained, fiddling with his glasses and picking at the argyle sweater vest monstrosity that Tim had picked out for him. The brown slacks and loafers that Alfred had picked out weren’t too bad, but they made Jason feel like his own grandpa.
“You do look very 1950s professor,” Dick agreed, and there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes that Jason did not trust. “It helps to make you look less threatening, but there’s no reason we can’t add some color to your outfit.”
“Absolutely not,” Jason said. The only thing worse than Tim and Alfred dressing him was the thought of Dick dressing him. “I don’t want to look like I died in the 1950s and got resurrected in the 1980s with horrific zombie fashion sense.”
Dick looked like he was torn between being amused and being hurt. “So, does this mean you don’t want to wear a peacock-sequined, pink feather boa lined fanny pack as a gift from your former students?”
Jason felt his eyebrow twitch. “No.”
“Alright.” Dick looked resigned. “I’ll keep it as part of my disguise if Tim, Alfred, Cass, Dami, Steph and I have to bring supplies and visit you and Bruce as Peter’s relatives.”
“Supplies?” Jason frowned. “We’re not leaving from the Manor to go to the book club?”
“Bruce didn’t tell you? He got an apartment downtown. So it’ll be easier for the two of you to get to know the potential suspects outside of book club time.”
“Huh,” Jason said. It didn’t sound horribly bad, maybe it wouldn’t even be as bad as staying at the Manor. Neutral ground and all that. “No, Bruce didn’t mention it.”
“Steph said there’s a Shakespeare themed café and bookstore below. Sounds like something you’d enjoy,” Dick said, and there was a glint in his eyes, as if he couldn’t help teasing Jason just a little. “While you get clues from the little old ladies at your book club.”
Jason made a non-committal grunting noise. Okay, Shakespeare themed café and bookstore sounded almost fun.