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Jason’s not sure he’s ever felt so exhilarated. Not when he was with the League, not even working with the Outlaws. His heart thuds, light and excited, as he careens down the hall.
This job had turned out a little more conspicuous than he’d been hoping, but honestly he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
There’s a warm lithe hand wrapped in his and he has the data he needs on a little USB in his pocket. Data that she had gotten for him while he’d busted a few heads.
Christ, he doesn’t even know her name.
She’s dressed to the nines, even for a costume party. Elegant ballgown that swishes with every movement, sparkling in the lights. A dainty tiara pinned to her long dark hair. He’s seen her shoes: scarily tall stilettos he’s not sure how she walks in let alone runs in. Not to mention she’d nearly kicked a guy’s face in earlier. Jason had been particularly distracted by that move; her pale leg unsheathing from beneath swaths of tulle, quick and precise as she took down man after man.
It was, to put it lightly, extremely hot. Jason doesn’t think he’s ever been more attracted to someone in his life. He knows without a shadow of a doubt that she could kick his ass and the thought makes him more than a little hot and bothered.
She’s still half a head shorter than he is, even in the heels, but she keeps up no problem. She’d hardly asked questions as she’d slipped the USB from his pocket mid-fight and downloaded the information he’d needed. She’s got to be one of the Birds of Prey, or maybe even one of Dick’s friends.
Jason thinks he might recognize her, but she’s wearing an intricate masquerade mask that covers over half of her face. He can make out calculating pale blue eyes and a sharp smirk painted bright red.
A gun goes off behind them and she yanks him around the corner, he tries to keep his blush in check at the blatant show of her strength. She’s breaking a window open with her elbow before he can even think to offer. He follows her onto the roof and then they’re jumping down, making a break for the main road. He’s not sure how she manages all that still in heels.
He’s got his bike stashed around here, they can hop on and—
She’s slipping her hand from his and sending him a rueful smile.
“What—”
“This was fun,” she says, a soft lilt to her voice, “let's not do it again. I hate running in heels.”
He tries gesturing to his bike. “We should—”
“Better get going before they catch up.” She takes a few steps back. “Stay safe out there, Hood.”
She does know who he is.
She turns, and darts down the long stretch of road. “Wait!” He calls and she stumbles, but then she’s dashing around a corner and by the time he catches up she’s disappeared.
“What the fuck?” He says to himself, but then he hears angry shouting in the distance. As much as he wants to go after her, he needs to get out of here. He turns back and something glints in the streetlight.
It’s one of her shoes.
It clearly didn’t survive the fall, the strap has snapped and the heel is halfway off.
He gingerly picks it up, he can’t tell if it’s expensive but it matches the dress she’d been wearing perfectly. He carefully places it in one of his side bags before he hops on his bike and zips away.
The idea of her tugs at the back of his mind and he knows he won’t be able to forget her anytime soon.
He needs to find her.
... Maybe he can ask Babs for help.
Tim can hear Dick’s laughter echo throughout the cave and then the distinctive thud of a punch being thrown.
“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” Jason says, “it’s not funny.”
Tim rounds the corner just in time to see Dick wipe a tear of mirth from his eye. “Jay,” he wheezes, and Tim isn’t sure if it’s from the laughter or Jason’s punch, “she’s literally Cinderella.”
Tim’s blood runs cold as he zeros in on the damaged shoe in Jason’s hands. Jason’s face is red, and he’s trying to look angry but Tim can tell he’s actually just embarrassed. He’s still wearing his costume from earlier, a knockoff of Prince Charming. Something he probably stole from Bruce’s closet. It’s embroidered with gold thread and the white silk makes his eyes stand out.
He looks good, even as disheveled as he is now, with tar from the roof staining the back and a few buttons from the top missing.
“I just need to use the Batcomputer to run a reverse image search for me and then I can figure out where it’s sold and who bought it.”
Jesus Christ.
“Jesus Christ,” Dick laughs.
Jason was looking for him.
“You’re looking for her!” Dick claps happily. “That’s so romantic. A regular Prince Charming.”
Jason shoves him, face red as a tomato. “Shut up. Will you help or not?”
Dick throws an arm around Jason’s shoulders. “Of course I’ll help my baby brother find his true love! His Cinderella!”
Jason grumbles but doesn’t push Dick off.
Tim drops the towel he’s holding.
Dick glances over. “Timmy!” He calls. “Come help Jason find The One Who Got Away!”
“I, uh,” Tim stammers, “shower. I need a shower. Sorry.”
Dick cocks his head. “But you just showered?”
“Condiment King!” Tim calls in response as he scoops to grab the towel he dropped and rushes from the room.
“Oh,” he hears Dick say, “ew.”
Great.
Now he was going to have to fake a Condiment King fight and cover any tracks of him buying those shoes.
He manages to avoid Jason for three days. It isn’t actually very impressive considering he and Jason don’t really “hang out”. Tim used to go weeks without seeing the other and now it seems like they’re running into each other almost every day.
This is mostly because Jason is hanging around the cave trying to use the Batcomputer and “find his Cinderella” as Dick keeps putting it. Bruce is being infuriatingly supportive of the whole thing. Like stalking some girl who helped you perform a heist at a costume party hosted by the mafia was a normal thing to do and not a gross breach of privacy.
Fortunately Tim had deleted all footage of that night. He hadn’t wanted Jason to have the chance to get another look at Cinderella’s face and realize it's actually just Tim under all that foundation.
Except it turns out Jason also has helmet footage.
Tim walks into the cave to drop off some evidence for a case he’s been working on for Bruce only to see his face blown up in 4K.
“She’s pretty cute,” Duke is saying as he stares up at Tim’s masked face.
“Her face is covered, Thomas,” Damian says, “one cannot accurately determine her attractiveness.”
“Nah,” Steph says, “look at those legs. She’s defs hot.” And then, as almost an afterthought, “Would.”
Tim’s face burns.
“Would, what?” Damian asks.
“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Dick says, patting Damian on the head.
Damian hisses and swats at Dick’s hand. “Do not treat me like an invalid, Grayson. If Brown is speaking of sex she should just say so.”
Dick gasps dramatically. “What! Who told you about that!”
Damian scoffs. “As if anything could be kept secret from me.”
“Guys!” Jason yells. “Either you’re helping me find her or you're leaving. Pick one.”
“I wanna help you find your mystery girl!” Steph says, throwing her arms around Jason’s shoulders and leaning on him where he’s sitting. “It’s romantic! And exciting.”
Tim carefully takes a step back. His eyes flick over his family all gathered around Jason. If he’s careful he can just leave the evidence on a table and text Bruce that something came up.
His eyes snag on Cass’. She stares into his soul. Knowing.
“Tim,” she says, a traitor.
Dick whirls around. “Timmy!” He calls. “Come help! We’re still trying to find Jason’s Cinderella.”
Jason turns beat red. “I told you to stop calling her that.”
Tim forces out a laugh. “Sorry, I’m just here to drop off some stuff for Bruce. For a case. That I’m... still working on. So I really gotta run.”
“Boo,” Stephanie yells, “whore. You’ve been way too busy lately.”
Tim shrugs awkwardly and then forces himself to walk up to the side computer and start logging the evidence. Casual like. No panic here.
“Sorry, Steph, crime never sleeps.” He ignores Jason as he turns to let his gaze burn into the side of Tim’s head. His eyes seem to rake over Tim’s face, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “I thought you guys would’ve found her by now,” he lets himself say.
Jason finally relents, slumping back in his chair. “No. Fuckers must’ve wiped their cameras right after we left. And I haven’t had any luck with cams around the city.”
Tim hums. “Babs couldn’t find anything?”
“She’s busyyyyy,” Dick whines, “the Birds of Prey are working on this huge thing right now and she said she doesn’t have time for,” and here he pauses to do actual air quotes, “side projects”.
Tim hums again, trying to keep his face as blank as possible.
“She didn’t even care when I told her it was for true love!”
Jason shoves Dick. “Shut up, dude. I’m not— I don’t— I just—” His face flushes again. “Shut up.”
Dick beams but mimes zipping his mouth shut.
“Welp,” Tim says the second the upload completes, “good luck, man.” He very carefully doesn’t look Jason in the face because if he does he’s going to turn as red as Jason’s helmet and then he’s probably going to spill everything. “I’ll see you guys later.”
“Later,” Jason says, turning back to stare at the huge screen.
Stephanie flips him off and Duke waves. He has to duck away from Dick’s octopus hug and Damian gives him a very carefully measured nod.
Cass, however, trails after him. She follows him to his bike and doesn’t say anything as he puts on his helmet or hops on or moves back the kickstand.
It’s not until he’s about to turn it on that she says, “Why not tell him?”
Tim bites his cheek and glances back at Jason. He’s still staring up at “Cinderella”. Clicking through frame by frame. Tim had been pretty proud of his makeup that night, and after all this he’s glad he went with such a large mask.
“I can’t be her,” he says eventually, voice hushed. “Jason is expecting some hot, sexy, badass girl. I can’t be what he wants. I’m just me.”
Cass tilts her head. “You are her,” she says.
Tim shakes his head. “I don’t want to make him angry.” He doesn’t want to disappoint Jason, he doesn’t say. Jason who’s looking up at the still video of Tim in drag like the girl on the screen holds all the answers.
Cass puts her hand gently over his. “You won’t.”
He sends her a tightlipped smile before turning the key and letting his motorcycle roar to life. “I’ll see you later, Cassie. Love you.”
She steps back. “Love you.”
He speeds out of the cave, finally letting his heart start to beat out of his chest.
He’d covered his tracks. Jason wasn’t going to find out. It was all going to be fine.
It was not going to be fine.
Tim stares up at Jason, carefully not gaping.
Jason Todd stands awkwardly in his doorway, one hand clutching Tim’s broken shoe from that dreaded night and the other shoved deep in his jacket pocket.
“Uh,” says Jason, “hi.”
“Hey,” Tim says, fingers turning white from how tightly he’s gripping the door handle. “What's up?”
Jason shifts from foot to foot. “I hit a bit of a roadblock looking for Cinder— I mean, the girl from the party.” He holds up the shoe between them like a peace offering. “Cass said you were pretty good with designer clothes? I was hoping you could help me narrow some things down.”
The silence stretches for a moment, Tim’s mind racing a mile a minute trying to think of any excuse to not do that without sounding like an absolute asshole.
Jason rocks back.
“Or not,” he says, “that’s fine too. I know you’re, uh, busy. I’m sure I can—”
“No,” Tim interrupts, then winces, “I can help. Uh, come in.” He steps back and Jason gingerly steps around him.
He gives Tim a small nod. “Thanks.”
Okay.
Tim shuts the door and lets himself lean his forehead against the wood briefly.
He could do this.
He pushes himself up and turns only to find Jason staring at him.
“What did you want to know?” He moves past Jason further into his apartment, schooling his face as best he can. Jason follows him into the kitchen, gingerly setting the heel down on the counter. Tim pulls open the fridge and cracks open a Zesti Energy, downing half of it before he even shuts the fridge.
“Uh,” says Jason, staring just below Tim chin for a moment before shaking his head and taking a step back. “Just, anything I guess. Whatever you’ve got.”
Tim sets his can down and picks up the shoe, pretending to inspect it carefully. “It’s a Jimmy Choo,” he says, “a slingback. Looks like a Didi or a or an Amita, maybe.” Shit, is that too specific? “I’d have to do more research to find the specific shoe.”
Jason nods, “Yeah, I, uh, did a reverse image search. But I couldn’t find the exact one. And there’s not one of those stores in New Jersey.”
“The closest is in Pennsylvania,” Tim says, and then turns to take another drink when Jason gives him a weird look.
“... Right,” he says after a moment, “there’s one in New York, too. I was hoping maybe you could work your magic and find out who could’ve bought this shoe. It looks, uh, maybe it’s an older shoe? Or it’s custom? I couldn’t find it on their site.”
Oh, it’s custom alright. Tim had special ordered it half a year ago and spent twenty thousand on it. Real gems were incrusted over the blue silk. Jason’s Cinderella was an expensive girl. Or Anastacia, as Tim had named her. She went to all the exclusive parties, always getting a personal invite. It was a good way for Tim to do intel gathering, and he never wanted to skimp on the accessories. The people who went to these parties knew designers, and they knew money.
Anastacia had to know both and more. He’d been working on her for a few years now, careful to not be photographed, careful to scrub footage of her face. A proverbial ghost, except for those who knew her personally. Daughter of some business tycoon that Tim had set up a few shell corporations for, in case anyone ever decided to look further.
But she wasn’t built for the bats. If Jason, or anyone else in the family for that matter, looked any further than skin deep her identity would start to fall apart.
Jason would know she wasn’t real, and then he’d want to find out who she was.
And the only place that led was disappointment and Tim.
“I can run it through a few systems,” Tim forces out. And while that ran he could double check that he scrubbed evidence of his purchase thoroughly enough. Babs would only be busy for so long. She liked to pretend she was better than this, but Tim knows she loves meddling. She can’t stand not knowing something. He’s found enough hidden cameras in his apartment from both Bruce and Babs to know that much.
“Cool, thanks.” Jason says, and watches Tim take the shoe and place it over by his computer set up. It wasn’t as impressive as the one downstairs in his Nest or the one at the cave, but it would do for now.
Tim pulls out a camera and begins to take pictures of the shoe from every angle. He had to at least make it look like he was trying.
“I’m gonna—” Jason says, “can I use your bathroom?”
Tim waves him down the hall. “Sure,” he says, then turns to upload the photos to his system.
It isn’t until he’s got a few scans running that he realizes that Jason’s been taking a while.
And then he remembers he still has his dress and his other shoe in his room.
Tim takes off down the hall.
The hall bathroom is dark and vacant but he sees a shadow through the cracked door to his room.
The door he’d left closed.
Tim peels into the room, huffing.
Jason sits at the foot of his bed, shoe in hand. It has scuff marks on the bottom but other than that it’d held up a lot better than the one he’d snapped and lost.
“I can explain,” Tim says, heart in his throat. Except he can’t. He’d thought he could avoid this so he never bothered to come up with an excuse. A reason.
“Okay,” Jason says. And he sounds calm. Unbothered. “Explain.”
Tim grasps for words. “I was— I was already looking into it. And I. Found that. The shoe. It’d been pawned. For the— the gems. Jewels. So I was trying to track down who sold it but I didn’t want to come back with nothing so I was... I was just. Waiting. Until I had something.”
Jason’s eyes flick down to the shoe then back up to him. Then dart over to the side.
Tim looks behind him.
His closet door isn’t slid shut all the way, a bit of blue tulle sticking out.
The bed creaks as Jason stands.
“Jason, wait.” Tim tries, but Jason just moves past him and flings the closet door open.
The blue dress puffs out like betrayal. The attached petticoat taking up as much space as it possibly can now that it’s not being squished away.
Jason stares at the dress for a long moment before turning back to Tim, shoe still clutched in his hands.
Tim’s breath stutters. “I—” he tries, but his voice catches. “I can’t explain. I’m sorry.”
Jason’s hands tighten on the shoe as he watches Tim. He doesn’t look... angry. Not exactly. Frustrated. Tired. A little sad.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks.
Tim’s hands itch to twist together but he forces them down at his sides.
“I was hoping you’d give up,” Tim tells him honestly. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”
Jason’s face smooths, unreadable. “Disappointed?”
Tim huffs. “You were so... excited. You kept telling Dick about this girl that had helped you out and you didn’t know why and you wanted to know who she was. She’s no one. She’s made up. I thought if you never found her then, like, the dream would never die. Or whatever. But now that I’m saying it out loud, it sounds kinda stupid.”
Jason’s eyes search his face. “Why did you help?”
Tim shrugs, helpless. “Why wouldn’t I? I mean, I know you hate it when I help you on missions but you were in a tough spot and there were too many of them and you didn’t have your guns and—”
“Okay,” Jason says, holding up a hand. “But why did you help me? You don’t like me.”
Tim blinks at him. “What?” He asks. “What do you mean? I don’t— I— you don’t like me. That’s why I didn’t tell you who I was right away, I thought you wouldn’t, like, I thought you’d tell me to fuck off.”
Jason’s eyebrows shoot up. “I don’t, uh, not like you.”
“Okay?” Tim feels his face scrunch up in confusion. “I don’t not like you either.” This was not how he’d planned on this conversation going. More yelling, probably. Maybe Jason would punch him. Call him a disgusting creep. Something.
Jason’s shoulders drop and he breathes out slowly. “Well,” he says, “I guess that’s two mysteries solved.”
He tries for a smile but Tim’s body is still prepped for a fight so he can’t quite return it.
“Sorry,” Tim says again. Still feeling wound tight.
Jason shrugs. “I already thought it could be you, but. I guess it’s nice to know.”
Tim’s brain screeches to a halt. “What?” He asks. “What do you— how?”
Jason brushes his fingers against his own jaw and Tim lets himself raise a hand to mirror the motion. “She, well, you got nicked by that guy with the machete.” Tim runs his fingers across the raised, scabbed over, scratch. “You were wearing a bandage that day in the cave, but it was the right spot. Also you, uh,” Jason clears his throat, “you have the same ears.”
Tim’s face goes hot and his hands snap up to cover his ears. “What!?” He squeaks. “My ears?”
Jason averts his eyes, a blush dusting across his cheeks. “They’re cute ears,” he says, almost defensively.
“My ears are not cute.” Tim says.
Jason rolls his eyes at that but moves on. “And then Cass was being weird and all insistent that I ask you for help so I figured you at least knew something you weren't telling me. I just couldn’t figure out why unless, you know.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I guess now I know.”
Tim bites his cheek again to keep from saying something he shouldn’t. “Now you know,” he says. “Still. Sorry it was me.”
Jason’s eyes flick up and lock onto his. Gaze dark, intense. “Don’t be sorry.” He says.
“But you were—”
“I wanted to find her,” Jason says. “And I did.”
“I’m not her,” Tim tries to tell him, but Jason just keeps going.
“You are her, Tim. You’re more, actually.” He laughs, and his cheeks flush bright again. “She was hot and strong and capable. I’m not ashamed to say that you’re attractive, dude. It’s— obviously you’re attractive. And now I know that she’s you and you’re—”
He cuts himself off.
Tim takes a step closer, not breaking eye contact. “I’m...?”
“You’re scary smart, Tim. You’re good on the field and you’re fun to spar with when I can actually convince you to. You don’t— you let me talk about my stupid books when we’re on stakeouts together and if I’m being honest you’re the only bat that doesn’t drive me insane to work with. Well, you do drive me insane. But that’s not— not because I don’t like working with you. Because I do.”
“You do?” Tim asks.
“Tim,” Jason says, “I wasn’t disappointed when I thought that she might be you. But I didn’t... I didn’t understand why you didn’t just tell me. I figured it was because you didn’t like me. I figured if I came here if you found a lead, great. But if you didn’t I was gonna drop it. Either it was or wasn’t you and if it was, you had your reasons for not telling me.”
“Sorry,” Tim says again, helpless.
Jason just closes his eyes and shakes his head, rejecting the apology again. Then he says, "Look, as long as I'm-- saying shit, or whatever," he doesn't look at Tim again, turns his face away towards the dress, but his profile is clear and Tim watches his cheek color, "there's this coffee shop in midtown, with these seasonal drink names, and they're-- I think you would like it. If you want to go. With me. Sometime."
Tim feels his face fall slack as he gapes up at Jason. “Sorry?" He asks.
“No,” says Jason, “you’re right. That’s a dumb idea, forget I said anything.”
“No, sorry!” Tim nearly yells. “I didn’t mean— I just— uh, I guess, you’re gay?”
Jason looks at him for a long moment. “Have you seen Bizzaro and Roy?” He asks.
Tim cracks a smile. “I mean...”
“I’d have to be blind to not be at least a little gay, right?”
“Right,” says Tim. “And then Kori and Artimis.”
“It’s insane how attractive the people I work with are.” Jason tells him sagely.
“And, uh,” Tim says, “me.”
Jason freezes for a moment. “Yeah,” he says, “you.”
Tim bites his lips so he doesn’t smile too wide. “I’d love to go get coffee with you. If that’s still on the table.”
Jason nods and takes a step forward, and it’s only now that Tim realizes that they’re nearly toe to toe. “Yeah, absolutely still on the table. Never had any plans to take it off the table.”
Tim laughs. “Okay, cool. Coffee.”
Jason beams. “It’s a date.”