Chapter Text
It is a dark and stormy night at the Wayne manor. Lightning flashes outside as a figure rises, silhouetted by the flashing light of the window. He flicks on a flashlight under his chin, casting darker shadows under his face, grinning evilly at his captive audience. "Welcome to game night! I have given you all roles and outfits for tonight's games. We have Tim as our lovely Miss. Scarlett tonight and our designated detective--"
Tim scowls and squirms uncomfortably in his form-fitting red dress with sequins that glitter in the light. "Dick. I really don’t see why I had to wear a dress with you."
"Because Dick wanted to force you to dress up and show off your body," Steph says jokingly, giving Tim a catcall.
"No! It’s because we look hot and are in character!" He swishes a hand through his black wig dramatically, ignoring the embarrassed eye roll from his little brother. "Anyways~. Jason is Colonel Mustard."
Jason scoffs, crossing his arms as the brickhouse of a man's muscles bulge, threatening to rip the seams of his uniform. "You two look ridiculous."
"Please, we all know you are going to be the one to get the most into this." Damian comments from the other couch in the sitting room, reading the Art of War in a green suit that looks suspiciously like one of Riddler's solid green suits but is tailored to fit him.
Jason scoffs at the little brat. "We'll see who gets more into this."
"It will be you."
Dick interrupts their bickering, "Can I finish my introductions? I still have six more people to go."
"No," he gets in unison.
"Great. So, I am the lovely Mrs. Peacock." Dick swishes his dress and posses with a peacock fan, lightly fanning himself. "Our lovely Alfred is Mrs. White."
Alfred just raises an eyebrow at him but continues in his floor-length maid’s outfit, putting the plate of freshly baked cookies on the table and giving courtesy to the group. While bribing the hellions with food so Dick can continue with introductions.
"We have our lovely host, Mr. Wayne, who is going to be our body and murder victim for the game tonight. Because he has ruined our other games of this, and it was a requirement to get Jay to play with us tonight."
"Whoooo!" Jason whoops, laughing in amusement as he collects his cookie tax.
Bruce just shakes his head but is happy that Jason showed up for the game night, so he seems outwardly prickly and annoyed. He will suffer this indignity if it makes his current favorite son happy.
Tim elbows Jason to get him to settle down as he hisses at him, "Shush, I need to pay attention." Jason responds by putting him in a headlock and messing up his hair. "Jay! I spent two hours getting that wig, and it looks nice!" He protests.
Jason laughs "Don't worry, I'll help you fix it, princess." Tim sucks his teeth at him and works on fixing his wig with Jason's 'help.'
Dick clears his throat to get the attention turned back to himself "As I was saying. The lovely Cass is Dr. Orchid."
Cass gets up and bows to the others in her black suit with an orchid in the suit pocket.
"Steph is our Professor Plum."
Steph waves with her mouth full of cookies and the pockets of her purple suit, also suspiciously full of cookies.
"Look at the ladies being well-behaved during their introductions," Dick says pointedly at his brothers.
Tim just sticks his tongue out at him and then grimaces, trying to remove the hair off his tongue. "Gross."
Dick cackles at the instant karma. "Finally, we have our littlest brother, Mr. Green."
Damian just turns the page of his book: "I have no interest in playing these children’s games and will not be participating."
"Uh-huh. That’s what the killer would say to throw suspicion off his trail."
Damian gives him an ‘are you stupid look.’ "No one is dead yet, Grayson."
"Uh-huh." He returns to announcing the game, "All right. So, everyone has a reason on their paper for being here, and the killer is allowed to kill more than just Mr. Wayne. The detective has an airhorn to summon everyone back to the sitting room for a debrief or to accuse the killer. When the person is accused, they must state truthfully whether they are the killer. After this they are sentenced to stay in the sitting room and are unable to leave so as to not interfere in the game anymore."
Steph raises her hand. "What if the detective is being a dick and just accuses willy nilly?"
"The detective only has two accusations before losing the game; if he-- or she wins, they get bragging rights. If the killer wins, then he or she gets bragging rights. If the minor characters live, they get a higher chance to be the killer or detective next time. Plus." He pauses for dramatic effect, looking around at his 'captivated audience.'
And keeps pausing.
Pausing.
A pillow pegs him in the head from behind as Steph yells, "Get on with it already!"
He laughs. "The person who stays in character longest gets autographed memorabilia by their favorite super." At that, his captive audience sits up straighter, looking at him with interest. The only one not interested is Bruce. He is instead giving Dick a long-suffering look of a drenched (bat)cat.
"Any questions?"
Tim goes to raise his hand, but Dick cuts him off. "Great! Time to tie up the detective and throw him in a closet, then throw away the key."
"Wait, what?!" Tim retorts in alarm, immediately clambering over the couch as the pack of super fans jump him.