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Jason spins the giant plush mascot head between his palms. “I don't think the real Batman smiles this much. Don'tcha think we should've gone with more of a scowl?”
He pulls his most authentic Bruce-grade frown, turning down the corners of his mouth.
His supervisor is unfazed. “Don't pull that face, you'll scare the kids. And it was management’s idea; they thought it made Batman seem more approachable.”
Jason snorts, placing the oversized head on the bench beside him so that he can tug on his black boots. “Approachable, right. Because that's what a guy who beats the snot out of criminals on the regular was missing. Approachability.”
His supervisor shrugs, and consults his clipboard. Jason's pretty sure the kid is younger than he is, but a job's a job in Gotham. So long as none of the crocodiles are growing humanoid legs and threatening to take down the mayor, he's coming out on top.
“So what's the connection between Batman and a zoo?” Jason asks, tilting his chin up to velcro the cape across his throat. He makes sure to cover the faint white scar there; don't want to scare the kids. “Last I checked the caped crusader wasn't trumpeting conservation.”
“How did you even pass the job interview?”
It's Jason's turn to shrug. “Guess I was the only applicant without a criminal history.” He grins, wide and with all his teeth, at the irony. “So why'd they pick Batman as their mascot, of all things? He's not exactly a cuddly koala bear.”
His supervisor scratches something off his clipboard schedule, scribbling a note in the margin. “Our city animal is a bat.”
“We have a city animal?”
“Apparently we do, and apparently it's a bat. So, they went with our only other iconic bat-related figure.”
Jason scoops the head up again, and stares into the oversized, bubbly eyes of the Batmask. “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?”
“You ask too many questions for a guy who's about to be nonverbal for eight hours.”
“Wait till you see how much I talk with my hands,” Jason says, popping the mascot head on. He flips a double bird at his supervisor, the mascot grinning broadly as he does.
His supervisor looks like he needs another cup of coffee. “No obscene gestures in the suit. You have to preserve the magic. A lot of kids look up to Batman.”
“He's very tall,” Jason quips, but isn't sure it's wholly coherent behind the mask. He lifts the edge of the mask above his lips to ask, “Hey, why don't they have a Robin? It's the state bird of like, three states. That has to count for something. And he's way more approachable than the Big Bad Bat.”
Apparently his supervisor is done enabling Jason's chattering, because he runs his pen down the side of his clipboard and rattles off, “You've got an appearance with the otters at nine o'clock, at the aviary at ten, and then the marsupials at eleven thirty.”
“Now, an opossum would make a excellent city mascot. Or a raccoon.”
“You can take a fifteen minute break at twelve fifteen,” his supervisor continues, uninterrupted. “Then you're needed for a reptilian show at noon thirty. The trainers like it when you make a Killer Croc reference,” he adds.
Jason throws up his hands. “I already did!”
“Chimpanzees at one.” The scrape of a pen ticking down a list rapid-fire. “Two-thirty with the penguins.”
“Do they want a crimelord joke there too, or—”
“Lions are three fifteen, and then it's crowdwork until four. Gates close at five thirty, but you can head back here at five to change out.” His supervisor looks up at him through the eye holes of the mask. “Got all that?”
Jason gives him two over-exaggerated thumbs-up.
His supervisor doesn't smile, but he does tick something down the bottom of his clipboard. “Better. Go get ‘em, tiger.”
It's not the worst side gig Jason's ever had. Surprisingly, there's not a lot of jobs that beat ducking bullets for the title of “worst entry-level position in Gotham.” And Jason had sort of flunked out of that first one. The word “fired” seems a little on the nose.
Prancing around in a cape comes second nature after all his nights dressed as Robin. And making kids laugh at Batman brings Jason a spiteful little joy he can't deny.
He manages to get through his day with minimal reprimand. Jason cracks a great Killer Croc impression during the crocodiles show, and the kids all laugh when he starts trying to fight the penguins.
Jason's doing crowdwork by the African mammals enclosures, giving kids high-fives and waves, when he spots them. Huddled near the elephant enclosure, bickering in a way that makes it look like they're hoping no one will notice.
Jason freezes in his tracks, casting around hastily for the exits. The suit makes it hard to see, his vision narrowed to twin telescopes, and it hinders him enough that he doesn't manage to locate an escape route before he's spotted.
“Batman!” Bruce calls, waving him over. Jason reluctantly heads in their direction, giving Damian an exaggerated wave.
Those piercing green eyes scan him from head to two, his displeasure announced with a pointed, “Hmph.”
“Hello Batman,” Bruce says, wrapping a hand over Damian's shoulder in reprimand. That cheesy grin stays plastered to his face, and for a brief moment Jason's transported back to his early galas, hiding in Bruce's shadow. “My son and I were just saying how wonderful it is that Gotham Zoo is honouring its local myth with a mascot. Don't you agree?”
Damian crosses his arms over his chest and shoots Bruce a sizzling look that reminds Jason all too much of Talia. “I think a Robin mascot would be far more appropriate.”
Jason gives an enthusiastic cheer, arms above his head. Bruce doesn't look convinced.
“Batman is the protector of the city. It makes sense that he'd be the zoo’s mascot.”
Bruce narrows his eyes at Jason's thumb down. Damian looks smugly triumphant.
“Robin is a more appropriate companion for children,” Damian says, “being a child himself. I presume,” he adds hastily, washing slightly pale.
“Yes, you presume,” Bruce reiterates with a hint of warning. “That doesn't mean he's the best mascot for a zoo.”
“Why ever not?” Damian rejoins. Jason feels caught between their argument, sweating bullets in the confines of his suit at the prospect of being caught. “The first Robin had a notable affinity for animals. He even had a pet elephant, Zit—”
“Allegedly,” Bruce interjects, and Damian's mouth audibly snaps shut. “We are talking about myths, after all. The Batman and Robin we know are little more than ideals given form. All we can rely on is hearsay.”
Jason shifts awkwardly in the silence, unsure what to do to shift the attention off the topic. Luckily, Bruce is old hat at segueing off of unwanted conversations.
“Say, Batman, could we get a photo with you? We're both massive fans,” Bruce adds with a smile that shows off all his very expensive dental work.
Before Jason can answer, Bruce is wrapping an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close into his side. Jason lets out an unintentional squeak at being jammed up against Bruce's considerable bulk. This close, he can feel the hard mass of Bruce's muscles through his expensively casual polo.
“Come on, Damian,” Bruce coaxes, and the preteen finally relents to the indignation of having his picture taken.
Jason tries to look enthusiastic, flapping out the cape and striking a pose while Bruce snaps a selfie on his phone.
Released from his obligations, Jason takes a hasty step back, putting some distance between himself and Bruce as the man pockets his cell.
“Thank you. My son is a huge Batfan.”
The pout Damian gives makes him look his age. Jason gives him a consolatory pat on the shoulder. “I still think Robin would make for a better mascot.”
Bruce rolls his eyes at Jason's overly theatrical nudge and wink. “I disagree.”
Damian casts his gaze around. “My sister is nearby also. She will be able to resolve this dispute for us.” Jason freezes midway through nodding when Damian bellows, “Cass!”
Suit or not, face visible or not, Jason doesn't stand a chance in hell at fooling Cass. She'll clock his identity in a heartbeat, and blame it on the way he walks or breathes or shifts his weight. Jason's not waiting around to have his cover blown in front of Bruce.
He pats Damian on the head, ignoring his affronted protest as Jason spins to shake Bruce's hand. The man seems as startled as Jason does by the motion, and Jason rips his gloved hand away hastily.
Then he takes off at a hard sprint away from the elephant enclosure, diving for the safety of a group of tourists before Cass can spot him.
