Work Text:
The fire in the hearth crackled as Alfred set down a tray piled with neatly formed and sliced finger sandwiches on the low center table. Damian followed behind with a tray filled with steaming cider, and finally Jason entered with a tiered cupcake tray carefully balanced.
“Whoo! Let’s eat!” Steph shouted before blowing into a party horn. The air filled purple paper tube smacked Tim in the forehead from where he sleepily rested on the armrest next to her. He didn't even twitch as she clambered over him to grab a small sandwich.
“This isn’t a party, Stephanie,” Bruce admonished, settling himself in the armchair closest to the fire. He promptly jumped up as he sat on Alfred the cat. The cat hissed and Damian tutted, shooting an admonishing glare at his father; Bruce gave an apologetic stroke to the cat’s back before beginning to pace in front of the fireplace.
“It’s kinda a party,” Dick smiled, tapping on his paper party hat. It was black with blue stripes, or possibly blue with black stripes depending on who you asked, and sat artfully askew on his head.
“This is an investigation!” Bruce snapped. He snatched a folder off the coffee table before Jason could cover it with cupcakes. “There are questions to be answered here!”
“The only question, old man,” Jason sneered, “is if you want cake or sandwiches first.”
“Cake,” Cass requested, holding out her hands for a treat. “Celebration deserves dessert first.”
“Not you too,” Bruce groaned. He flipped open his folder and began making notes in the margins of his pages.
“Brucie, Batsy… is it too soon to use Batsy?” Steph mused. “Is that going to be a trigger for you?”
Bruce’s eyebrow twitched. “Wake up Tim. We have an investigation to conduct and everyone here is a suspect.”
There was a collective groan through the room and lots of rolled eyes, but Damian approached and shook on Tim’s shoulder till the boy sat up, blinking heavily.
“Thank you,” Bruce nodded towards his youngest. “Now let’s talk through the albis.”
Duke awoke to shouting. That was not unusual for waking up in Wayne Manor, but it was, he checked his alarm, only 4am. Usually they weren’t this loud until closer to 10am.
The sounds were a mix of shouts of glee, defensive screams, and an occasional sound like an airhorn. The airhorn was really what got him moving. That was not in the normal range of sounds for Wayne Manor.
It wasn’t hard to find the scene of the commotion, and immediately he regretted not checking his phone for an update, before dashing down.
The south sitting room was a wreck of purple, green and red streamers, confetti, random party favors, and empty food trays. It was clear that Alfred had abandoned hope at some point and fled the room, because no one was even attempting to keep their mugs on coasters.
“Beep, beep.”
Duke spun around to see Barbara approaching with a thermos coffee pot resting on her lap and a, too bright for the current hour, grin on her face.
“Did you get some good rest sleeping beauty?” Her voice was light, not particularly exhausted and that offered a modicum of relief that things couldn’t be too serious.
“I want to ask what I missed, but I’m also slightly frightened,” Duke admitted. “Are they drunk or something?”
“No,” Selina answered as she stepped out of the room and joined them in the hallway. “Unfortunately there is no alcohol involved, but things are more fun with looser inhibitions. Maybe we should add some whiskey to Bruce’s coffee.” She took the offered coffee pot from Bab’s and topped off her mug. “You might as well join us,” she added, looking at Duke. “We’ve not yet determined if ‘being asleep’ is a complete alibi or not.”
Duke sighed, entering the room to take stock of the damage, but none of the inhabitants even seemed to notice him.
Bruce and Jason were both red faced and shouting at each other as they stood in front of the cold fireplace while Dick tried to bodily squeeze between them and force them apart. Steph and Cass sat on the nearby couch, the cursed airhorn in Steph’s hand that she randomly depressed when Jason cussed.
And in the corner of the room, underneath a giant poster of Joker with a red spray painted x across his face, was Tim and Damian, curled up asleep on a dog bed. Duke couldn’t understand how they could sleep through the noise in the room when he couldn’t even sleep through it a floor away.
Selina approached them, tucking a blanket around the two boys before moving in to assist Dick. She caught the man’s gaze and then in a silent beat of communication, they moved. Dick lunged forward, bodily wrapping himself around Jason, making Jason stumble under his full weight while Selina pressed up against Bruce and walked him backwards. Bruce landed in a nearby chair and she followed him down, sitting in his lap.
“Now you know what they say about a cat in your lap,” she grinned up at him. “You can’t move or disturb them.”
“Get off me Dickhead!” Jason scrambled, but it only made his balance worse and he tumbled to the ground, landing hard with Dick perched nimbly on top of his chest.
“Time to chill out, before you wake up anyone else,” Dick said, patting Jason on the head and avoiding the snapping teeth.
“Yeah, if they haven’t woken up yet, pretty sure the apocalypse won’t do it,” Duke added on. “Though judging by the state of the room, I’m thinking it’s too late anyway.”
“Duke,” Bruce’s gaze cut over to him and Duke could see the strained veins in the man’s eyes. “Where were you last night between 22:00 and 24:00 hours?”
“Sleeping,” Duke offered, rolling his eyes. “In my bed, in my room, in this manor. Unlike some people in this room, my trackers are still enabled and you can verify that. I haven’t even checked my phone to know what you are looking for.”
“He’s on a damn witch hunt instead of celebrating!” Jason shouted, his face now smushed into the carpet as he struggled to escape Dick’s pin. “It’s been hours and we have all had to recount our existence to add to his crazy collection of alibis!”
Duke glanced at the poster again, almost afraid to ask and dash out the bubbling hope in his gut. “Alibis for what?”
“Last night between the aforementioned hours, Joker was found dead in his Arkham cell. The video footage is dark. No one knows anything. I verified the death myself before his body was pushed through the incinerator.”
“What was the cause of death?”
“Strangulation.”
“Wouldn’t there have been hand print bruises?”
Bruce flashed a grin, halfway between proud and insane, and it sent a shiver down Duke’s spine. That man really needed sleep.
“It was a rope-like mark. No fibers left behind. No clues on the body or the cell,” Dick added, still perfectly balanced on top of the squirming Jason. He moved like a surfer on the waves and Duke was forced to acknowledge that was some weird Dick-like talent for sure.
“Okay,” Duke nodded, accepting the facts. “As the only person here who I know for sure has had a decent REM cycle in the last 24 hours, I just have one last question.”
Jason paused in his struggle, Dick’s eyes focused in, Bruce (Selina still perched) scooted to the edge of his seat, and even Damian and Tim seemed to pause their snores in anticipation.
“Why the fuck do we care who killed him?”
Jason crowed in triumph, Dick fell off his perch laughing, Bruce threw himself back in exasperation and Bab’s rolled forward to clap Duke on the back. The two in the corner resumed their soft sleep noises.
“Exactly,” Selina interrupted before Bruce could rally again. “This weird party game has gone on long enough Bruce.”
“Party game?” Steph asked, bringing attention back to her and Cass as both sat watching. “You call this torture session a party game?”
Selina blinked at her, then smiled softly, patting Bruce on the head. “Of course it’s a party game. He’s collecting all the evidence for his scrapbook.”
“Evidence file, Selina,” Bruce said, sounding more tired than upset. “It’s an evidence file.”
She waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Tomato, potato.”
“That’s not–”
“So who killed him?” Tim asked as he sat up with a stretch. “Did Jason fess up yet?”
“Hey! You’re the only one that hasn’t produced an alibi yet!” Jason shouted. “You're at the top of the list.”
Tim finished standing, yawned, touched his toes in warm up, and then strolled over to Bruce, deftly snatching the file from his mentor’s hands. He flipped through the pages for a few moments, then glanced over at Cass. “Who has the missing piece?”
Cass grinned and her eyes cut over to Selina. “Mama cat knows.”
A collective gasp rolled through the room as all eyes darted to Selina. She shrugged. “He was having fun playing with all of you, who am I to interrupt Bat family bonding time?”
“Selina,” Bruce growled. “What do you know?”
The doorbell suddenly rang, interrupting the tense moment. Before anyone could react, it rang again and again and again in rapid succession. Duke stepped into the hallway, but Alfred was already there opening the door.
“Who is it Duke?” Bruce called over, voice irritated.
“I suspect it’s the murderer,” Duke called back, watching the new figures approach. “Or should I say–”
“Murderesses!” Harley shouted, jumping into the doorway with her hands splayed in a ‘tada’.
“It was a vine,” Ivy added dryly, stepping in behind her girlfriend. “Harley had a nightmare of that creature escaping and bothering her so we decided to make a permanent solution. We doused him with a pollen and then strangled him with a vine while he was unconscious. No big fanfare, nice and simple.”
“Nice and simple!” Harley cheered. “So stop bugging your kids!”
Bruce had already leapt up though, dislodging Selina, and snatched the folder back from Tim. He started scribbling furious on his pages as the two women provided their testimonies. Everyone stared at him.
“He’s finally lost it,” Jason murmured, watching the man with a cautious look.
“He’s smiling,” Dick added, stepping back slightly.
“He really needs to sleep,” Duke offered, rolling his eyes. Tim nodded in agreement, stealing the coffee from Steph.
“He’s happy,” Cass said, a grin stretching across her face.
“He’s about to not be though.” Selina stepped up behind him, obviously ready to take revenge on being tossed to the ground, when Barbara caught her hand. Selina exhaled her frustration and stepped back.
The world settled for a moment as Bruce finished his note taking, and finally closed the folder with a sigh. “Finally,” he shot a relieved, tired smile around the room. “Now who wants cake? We have a celebration to enjoy.”
