#jasonxjazz

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Jason and Jazz have been dating for a while and... Danny presumes that because he knows about Jason being Red Hood that Jason knows about Phantom. 

Danny got a text randomly in the afternoon from Jazz’s boyfriend. Which was inherently a strange experience considering Jason was typically dead asleep in the afternoon from all his ‘evening shifts’ and Jazz was in class. Stranger, the message just asked if Danny would be free to meet up today for a short chat. Jason doesn’t reply to Danny’s response of “Anything for my sister’s BOO <3.” 

Normally, Jason would start launching into a rant about Danny’s coffee choice being too like his little brother’s when they met at cafes- right now Jason looks deadly serious. 

“Look. I’ll cut to the chase of it all. I want to ask Jazz to marry me and well, your folks are shitty but it feels weird to not ask for permission.” 

“...Okay?” 

“So do I have permission?” Jason asks, a bit of a glare and Danny can see the RedHood’s famous attitude peeking out with the abundance of anxiety Jason must be feeling. 

“I mean, Yeah! She loves you and I know she’s been subliminally messaging you to find your balls and ask her already.” Danny rolls his eyes and laughs. His brother-in-law to be sure was a strange guy, but he liked him all the more because of it. 

Jason sighs in relief and his normal literature nerd, easy going and plucky ‘cool guy’ attitude comes back. They start chatting about the ring he bought for her, how they’re probably going to have to do a small wedding with his family members to appease his grandpa figure. Its all very cute and optimistic. 

“Love it! She mentioned your grandpa’s rose garden before and that’ll be perfect for human family events before the big ceremony.” 

“Big Ceremony?” Jason sounds unsure of where the conversation is going. 

“Yeah, you know. Plus now that I’m thinking about it, it’s probably for the best that you asked me, the observants would totally turn this into like, an interdimensional faux pa or something if I don’t give them a heads up.” Danny laughs at the idea of it causing an incident, but he can see Jason straighten his shoulders and his eyes attempt to pierce through him. 

“Danny. What the fuck are you talking about?” Jason looks more pissed than he looks concerned, and Danny is just confused. 

“Cause... You Know.” 

“If you don’t give me a real answer I’m going to-” At least Jason was taking deep breaths. 

“Hey man, chill out! I guess Jazz keeps it on the DL but my night shift has-” 

“Night shift? You’re an engineer.” Jason cuts him off and the fact sounds accusatory. 

“And I’m the Ghost King? You knew this?” Danny relents, he hated saying it out loud cause it sounded lame, but he’s not sure why Jason is so up in arms all of a sudden. Jason looked like he might have an aneurysm and Danny knows his expression is declaring Jason is the biggest Dumbass in the world. 

“Danny ...what the fuck are you trying to say to me right now?” 

“That you and Jazz have to have a royal wedding in the Infinite Realms or my counsel and advisors will throw an absolute fit.” 

Jason doesn’t reply so Danny decides to add “You know, ‘cause my title translates to the Family’s royal lineage and if you marry Jazz you’ll become a Prince. I guess you don’t technically have to have a big wedding but if you don’t it’ll just mean shit loads of paperwork and a huge fucking headache on my end. Which I can survive but... I’m sensing that you’re frustrated. Let’s call Jazz.” 

“Let’s do that.” Jason sounds like he’s being strangled. Danny thinks it’s a bit dramatic but is excited to help Jazz wedding plan. 

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc crossover #danny phantom #dp crossover #Ghost King Danny #Royal family weddings #Jason was never told about danny being Phantom or being the ghost king #Red hood and Phantom have worked together in the past so Danny assumed his identity was out the window #without confirming if Jason actually knew #Danny assumes that his sister would have talked about it #Jazz can't talk about the observants without feeling murderous rage so she just doesnt lmao #Jazz swears that Jason knew about Danny being Phantom #This doesn't delay wedding planning #anger management #jasonxjazz #jazz x jason #long post

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 23

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

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“Sorry about that,” Jazz was as chirpy and radiant as she usually was when she found them in the breakfast room. “Danny’s extra cranky. Probably haven't slept in a few weeks.”

“Everything okay?” Bruce had to ask.

Jazz's smile was bright as she sat down next to Jason, who was finishing his toast. “Yeah! I feel better than ever!”

Right. The vials.

“I meant your brother.” Bruce’s eyebrow twitched with the thousand questions he surely wanted to ask.

Jazz looked up from where she was reaching for the toast and some strawberry jam. “Yeah? He’s sleeping. He’ll be fine.”

Dick chuckled and leaned in. “What Bruce meant to say,” he side eyed his father, who breathed in relief and continued drinking his coffee, “is what was that about? Things seemed pretty heated between Danny and you.”

Jason gave him a warning look, but otherwise didn’t react.

On the other hand, Jazz snorted. “Ghosts’ love language is fighting.” She shook her head. “He wouldn’t actually hurt me.”

Jason’s eyebrows went to his hairline, and very wisely chose to bite back a few questions. Also Jazz’s personality was slowly starting to make sense. He was sure that once he knew everything he wouldn’t need to feel this confused.

“Could have fooled me.” Dick commented instead. “Danny really didn't like Jason.”

“He didn’t—” Jazz tensed. She finished chewing and forced her shoulders to relax. “Is not that— I mean. I think Danny will like him, it’s just—”

“Is this about your exes?” Her boyfriend asked softly, reaching for an apple and putting it on her plate. She quietly thanked him.

“Yes and no. I…” she blushed, “I don’t have the best track record.”

Bruce cleared his throat. “Did you— Uh.” He realized too late he could sound like he was interrogating her. “I apologize, but I need to ask. The report Danny mentioned—?”

“Yeah. That.” With a tired sigh, Jazz put her knife down. “David. He… Well.”

“That’s the one that cheated on you, right?”

She nodded at Jason. “I found out I was actually a side piece. It wasn’t fun.” She scrunched her nose.

“What happened?”

“Dick.” Jason warned.

“No, no. It’s okay. I took care of it.”

“Dislocated shoulder and shattered hand?” Cass spoke for the first time.

Jazz sighed again. “The dislocated shoulder was because he didn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘no’.” She made a face. “And the hand was because I didn’t realize how… soft humans actually are.”

At this point? They were getting used to Jazz — and her brother — being a different category in their heads. For Dick it was like the slight adjustment he had to make when he was with the Titans. He had been the only human, fully human, of the group and he had to get used to his best friends and then girlfriend making these types of comments regularly.

“I found out…” Jazz continued with a distant look in her eyes, “I found out because I came back to the living world sooner than I expected and decided to check out my favorite coffee place and he was there with another woman. I thought — ‘well, I’m not around much and I’m also not the most exciting person, of course I got cheated on’ but the more I listened the less it made sense.”

“You are not boring.” Jason scoffed, frowning a little at the self deprecating behavior and the story. How could that idiot not see what he had in front of him?

“Thanks,” her smile was small, but sincere, “but the story doesn’t end there.” She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as her smile twitched a little. “Things didn’t quite add up and I quickly realized it was me who was the ‘other woman’ and this poor person didn’t know. And him? He was abusing her.”

“What?”

Jazz nodded at Dick. “I followed them, listening in, trying to see any sign that he was not the same person he was with me that he was with her. Claudia — that’s her name — showed textbook behavior of abuse and I had to make sure.” She sighed, leaning back on her seat, looking tired. “Long story short I caught him threatening her and taking her phone and I decided to act. Waited until she was home safe and had a chat with David and told him very nicely that he shouldn’t do that and yes, I may have accidentally sent him to the hospital.”

She went back to her breakfast, choosing to take a bite of her toast and chew for a few moments.

“Claudia took the chance while he was recovering and broke up with him, moved apartments and found the help she needed. I would have preferred she reported him, but I can’t force her and if that was enough for her then it’s fine by me.” She shrugged. “I had to go back to the Realms shortly after so I couldn’t stay to check further, and then things got complicated and I just came back for college stuff and even then I had to be quick.”

Bruce took a sip of his coffee to hide the tiny smile.

Jazz was not a hero or a vigilante, but he could see why she fit in the family so much, and more importantly, why his son liked her so much.

“What happened to the guy?”

Jazz chuckled at Duke’s question. “As much as I'd like to report some type of karmic punishment, last time I saw him he was still frequenting the same coffee place. But he was alone. His hand was healed, though. I didn’t stay longer to check more. I couldn’t.” Her little frown and tense shoulders told them not to pry.

Conversation continued as they finished breakfast, mostly questions about her brother and what they saw almost go down in the kitchen. Jazz was very open about what she could tell, and shared a few stories about Danny and his “bad taste in women”. They noticed how earlier stories about Danny’s powers and Team Phantom adventures were easy for her to tell; but later ones, from about the time Danny graduated highschool, became a stream of “ummm”s and “uhhh”s and “and etcetera” that she used to dance around the truth.

Jason almost felt guilty for contributing to the general subtle questioning, but Jazz was happy enough to share stories and she even acknowledged that she was happy to share the whole thing at a later time.

Soon the timeline that Barbara had roughly put together was filled with tidbits of information — all those blank spots she found were the times the siblings (and their friends) were back in the Infinite Realms. Doing what exactly? That was the final piece of the puzzle.

She talked about training, about classes, about Frighty and Frostbite and Clockwork and a plethora of ghosts as if they were supposed to know who they were — classic Jazz — and with context they quickly understood that the names she repeated the most were some kind of guides or teachers on this mysterious part of her life.

It wasn't difficult to put together that Jazz, Danny and this… “Team Phantom” were somehow related to the High King of the Infinite Realms.

That still left a bunch of questions, like what were their exact roles, who was the king and what were her parents doing during those periods of time. They didn’t broach the subject but they knew from Babs’ research that they were working for the GIW, a sketchy organization that wanted them eliminated, during those times they were in the Infinite Realms.

If they knew about all of this, why haven’t they done something already? If their guesses were correct, they’ve been fighting and training for a bit less than a decade. It didn’t make sense that they had this kind of power, this kind of backup, and haven’t tried to bring down the GIW yet.

Or contacted the Justice League. Sure, they were angry and disappointed that the heroes never came to help, but Jazz insisted they had the situation back at her hometown under control. Technically, they could now ask for that support.

Glancing at Bruce and his calculating eyes, Jason decided he didn’t blame her for not reaching out. And he wasn’t sure what she would do after how bad Bruce had treated her.

“Oh Ancients,” Jazz jumped and put her orange juice back on the table. She glanced at Dick. “The class. Today. I forgot.”

The man chuckled. “I already called and said that I wouldn’t be able to attend today. The show you and your brother put on in the kitchen told me today was going to be interesting enough.”

She blushed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. They are already used to me canceling at the last minute. Just Vigilante Things.” He winked.

“Don’t I know it.” A new voice answered from the door. Danny walked in dragging his feet, hair sticking outwards in every direction and eyes narrowed. “Good morning.”

“Hey you.” Jazz turned in her seat. “You look awful.”

“Is my natural charm.” Danny yawned and sat next to his sister. “Hi all. My name is Danny. Can I eat some food?”

Some at the table chuckled at his words. Bruce nodded, amused, and abandoned all pretense that he wasn’t analyzing the siblings.

“Slept okay?” He asked.

“Better than I have in weeks.” Danny shrugged, making quick work of what was left on the table. He wasn’t picky, and he didn’t complain about the food being cold. “Mostly because I haven’t slept in weeks more than a few naps under my desk.”

“I told you—”

“I know.” He cut off his sister. “I know. I just never find the time.”

Jazz looked like she wanted to argue but chose to let it go and helped Danny assemble the worst breakfast combination in the world. The rest watched in horror and fascination as the young man devoured everything at a fast pace, not caring about chewing or tasting the food.

Once he swallowed, he continued talking. “We have been using the system — you know, the one you created?” He rolled his eyes when Jazz smiled, pleased. “It has been working fine. It’s just,” he sighed, “after you left everything kept piling up. I didn’t know how much work you did — how much reading I would do.” Danny rubbed his face in despair.

“And that’s why Tucker was my back up for the—”

“And he has been doing a great job but I made the mistake of offering my help, you know, I thought ‘oh, I have some free time! I can help my loved ones’ — that was my first mistake.”

“Thinking?” Jazz arched an eyebrow, her smile mocking.

Danny didn’t find it amusing, but quiet and barely contained chuckles around the table disagreed with him.

“Now seriously, do you need me to come back?” She asked, pointedly ignoring the stares, especially her boyfriend’s.

Danny’s eyes opened wide. “No! No, please. You stay where you are.” He gestured widely with his hands. “We got this. You— You enjoy your vacation.”

Vacation? Jazz said she was in Arkham to learn skills for her work in the Realms.

“I told you I’m not—”

“Yes. You are. Vacation.” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her a little. “Stop worrying. We got this.”

“Good luck with getting her to relax.”

“Hey!” Jazz turned towards her boyfriend. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side?”

“And I am. On the side where you stop worrying.”

Danny finally smiled. “You are not that bad, Mr Boyfriend.”

“Jason.”

Danny’s smiles grew with mischief, and didn’t say anything else. Jazz sighed.

“Please behave.”

“I always do.”

“You know as well as I do that that’s a lie.” She narrowed her eyes at her brother. “I thought we agreed you’d behave when you visit.”

“Still thinking you are capable of ‘being normal’?” He did the air quotes and everything. “Jazz, I love you, but you know that—”

“I know.” She looked down at her hands on her lap. “Believe me I know.”

Something clicked in Danny’s mind, because his teasing smile melted from his face the moment her words were out of her mouth.

He glanced at Jason, who tensed at the look, and went back to his sister. “What happened?”

Everyone noticed the switch in the siblings. Danny’s tense shoulders and alert eyes immediately going around the room looking for something. He didn’t know the details but he knew something was up with Jasmine.

“The situation has changed.” She started, still looking down. “I… The—I mean, I will take care of it, I always do, but we need to talk.”

Jason didn’t miss Danny’s dangerous glint in his eye when he looked at him again. Or the green glow in the blue irises.

“You said so in your text.” He nodded. “So this isn’t just about Mr Muscles over there?”

Jazz's soft chuckle was almost able to break the tension in the room. Cass, Duke and Dick stopped breathing, knowing this was it. Damian, who had been ignoring everyone and had been texting John the whole time, finally put his phone down. Bruce and Jason shared a look. This was it.

“How about we move this important conversation to the drawing room? I feel like you will be more comfortable there.” Alfred as always knew when to walk in, and started picking up the dirty dishes without waiting for a reply.

With a few murmurs in agreement, the whole group stood up and moved towards the room they’d been in the previous night. The arrangement was similar, with Bruce in the loveseat and the siblings cramming themselves in the opposite couch to the one where Jason, Jazz and Danny sat down.

Jazz was holding on to her boyfriend’s hand for dear life, trying to calm down. She appreciated his words of encouragement as they walked with the group, and held her head high by the time she faced her brother again.

“Jason, and his family, they… they know.”

Danny lifted an eyebrow. “I have noticed.” He crossed his arms. “After this morning, I’d expect a few screams in horror, but nobody has reported us to the police yet, so…”

“No, no. Danny, they know.”

It took a moment for her words to settle in, but when they did he bared his teeth and stood up. “WHAT?” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What the hell, Jazz? It’s been what, a few months? And this guy,” he pointed at Jason, who didn’t, couldn't, look at him, “makes cute eyes at you so you spill MY secrets?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh yeah?” He threw his hands up. “Enlighten me. Tell me how it was, because I was mostly joking when I said you have terrible taste, but—”

“It wasn’t like that.” She growled, bristling. “Things happened and I really need you to trust me for this one.”

“Trust you?” Danny asked, incredulous. “Are you seriously asking me to trust you right now?”

She straightened her back. “Yes I am. When have I led you astray?”

Danny scoffed. “You want the list alphabetical?”

“Danny.”

The siblings glared at each other, face expressions and eyes telling more than what words could tell. Danny was furious but cautious, and the fact that he hadn’t ran away yet was taken as a good sign. Jazz was hurt and pleading, but firm even when both their eyes started turning green.

Bruce wanted to shrink into his seat in shame, but he couldn’t. He did this. Jazz was forced against her will to reveal information so he wouldn’t march her into the Justice League and trial her for crimes he thought she committed. And now she had the chance to pay back, to rightfully blame him and tell her brother how he kidnapped her and hurt her, and she wasn’t saying anything.

“Okay.” Danny finally said. “Okay,” he sighed, “when we are back home you bet your ass you are explaining.”

“Everything will make sense in time.”

“You are starting to talk like Clockwork.”

This made her smirk. “Good. It keeps you on your toes.”

Danny made a mocking face to his sister and turned to look at the others watching.

“I guess there’s nothing to lose.”

There was a flash of bright light and instead of the tired and burned out younger Fenton sibling, they saw a floating glowing figure dressed in black and white. It was still Danny, but hair was white and eyes were green; and all the ghostly physical traits they saw in the siblings — fangs, claws, pointed ears — were exaggerated in this form.

“My name is Danny Phantom. The one and only hero of Amity Park—” Jazz cleared her throat, “I mean,” he glared at her and crossed his legs in the air, still floating, “I am the only undead hero of Amity Park. I have helpers.”

“Very funny.” Jazz said. She turned towards Bruce, Jason and the others. “Guys, this is my brother. Danny, these are the Waynes. Jason’s family.”

Danny’s eyebrows arched. “You are Bruce Wayne?” The way he asked had zero amount of awe. He was familiar with the name and not in a good way.

“You know who I am?”

“Sam — my girlfriend — knows who you are. She’s been to a few of your fancy-schmancy galas. She said she hated every second of it.”

The older man found it funny. “They tend to be mind numbingly boring.”

“Hey Danny,” Jazz’s voice was careful, “is this place safe?”

This made the young man tense and unfold his legs, all playfulness gone. “What do you mean?”

“I— I did my own check, but I’d feel better if you did one too. I wouldn’t like for, hm, Vlad to—”

“Vlad is involved in this?” Nobody missed the growl in his chest.

“All will make sense, I promise.” Jazz pleaded, lifting her hands in a placating manner.

Jason glanced at Bruce. They knew Vlad Master was bad news, but this confirmed it.

“Okay. Trusting you. Whatever.” Danny breathed slowly and disappeared.

Immediately, Jazz explained: “He’s doing a sweep of the haunt.” Determined, she looked at Bruce and then at Jason. “Will it be okay if I tell him about you guys?”

Bruce looked conflicted for a second, but Jason didn’t hesitate. “Go ahead.” He glared at Bruce as if daring him to say otherwise. “We owe you at least that.”

By the time Danny was back Bruce had come to terms that he had to start being okay with a bunch of things really quick if he wanted his answers. Glancing at Jasmine and how her worried frown never left her, he considered it wasn’t that bad of a step towards properly apologizing to her. She had said a few days ago that his apology at Jason’s apartment wasn’t enough. He was starting to understand the dimensions of the situation he caused.

“Okay. Place is clean. There’s a lot of dead relatives but that’s expected from a haunt like this one.”

Bruce wanted so badly to ask him to elaborate on that. But kept his mouth shut.

“Alright.” Jazz breathed in slowly. “Danny,” she started, “remember you are trusting me, ok?”

“You are scaring me.” He tried to joke, but his sister didn’t even smile.

“Could you please show them the… the other thing?”

“What other—” realization dawned on him. “Jazz, you didn’t—!”

“I haven’t!”

“Then why—?”

“I asked you if this was safe, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then listen to me,” she insisted, standing up to approach her brother. “Trust me. Show them.” She took his hands in hers, the contrast of both the alive and dead sibling blurring the longer Jazz stood there. It was like their auras became visible and pulsed together, a low hum barely perceptible rumbling in the room. “Trust me.”

The rumbling stopped when their hands stopped touching. Danny floated back and let his body lower until his feet touched the floor. He threw a worried look at Jazz and nodded, all aggressiveness dissipating and leaving a vulnerable expression on his face.

He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t have to. Gasps and one yelp in surprise filled the silence when green flames engulfed his body, from the bottom of his feet to the last strand of hair, and in its path, it revealed the same undead creature but not quite the same young man.

Danny looked like a completely different person with the dark metal armor over the suit. He looked taller, and bigger, and his presence commanded attention even if he wasn’t saying anything. He wore a cape dark as night, with millions of stars glowing on the inside, and that floated as if some kind of invisible breeze had entered the room.

The most impressive thing, though, was the black crown over his head. It floated a few inches over his hair, and the flames of his transformation seemed to concentrate in the mysterious metal, flowing and pulsating like a heartbeat.

“I am…” Even his voice sounded different. Heavier. He glanced at Jazz, who nodded. “I am Daniel James Phantom, the High King of the Infinite Realms.”

In the following moments, the Waynes felt like they were living in some kind of surrealistic alternate dimension. It was the moment at the maximum height of a jump, right before gravity did its thing and violently pulled you back down to Earth. Watching Danny, who just a few hours before had crashed into the house and looked more roadkill than person, was floating now in the middle of their drawing room wearing a full armor, a burning crown and a heavy presence that rivaled Batman on a bad day.

Dick broke the moment, acting like the gravity he loved to defy, and hollered a laugh coming from deep in his chest. “Eat shit, Stephanie!”

---

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#dpxdc #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #anger management ship #jazz/jason #dp x dc #dc x dp #batpham #friendly neighborhood vigilante #neighbors au

[space-dreams-world]

For the DPXDC /DP X DC shippers: What’s the normal age difference between Danny and Jazz?

Because I assume since Jazz goes to the same school as Danny, that Jazz and Danny were born roughly 2 to 3 years apart, since high school ends at 17.

So that means that without explicitly stating that one person's age was changed, that if Jazz dated Jason, that Danny would be a little bit older to date Tim or if it was Damian and Danny, then Jazz 's dating range should be limited to Tim or under Jason's age group.

It rubs me the wrong way that some prompts ship two people, but the reality of their world doesn't change around them,especially if they are near being or leaving the minor age gap.

For beings who are thousands of years old, like Alfred and Clockwork, make sense because they are consenting adults and that's fine, but like shipping Tim Drake whose somehow forever seventeen (and not an adult, no matter how much he wants to be treated like one because of neglect) with Danny being either a little bit older due to JasonxJazz or have him younger at 14 makes it wrong,because it was never stated that the character aged up or it would be a minor relationship.

So, for some relationships to literally work, you have to age up the characters and not have them to date at their base age unless the relationship is in the same age group.

#dp x dc #dpxdc #au

[ew-selfish-art]

Dpxdc AU: Danny can’t fix Jason’s whole…deal… and doesn’t want to answer any questions on ectoplasm but he can get Jason to the best therapist he knows! Jason mistakes Danny constantly pushing Jazz his way as an awkward little brother move to set them up romantically- which uh, isn't necessarily a bad thing? Jazz has her own vested interests.

… heads up that this got long...

Jason ran his hands through this hair, relieving them from their previous position of cradling his face in embarrassment. Why was he sitting in a nice cafe with Danny’s redhead sister and a five dollar chai latte? For all the awkward live wire feelings he had, at least she was calm and composed. How many times had this happened already?

“So… the green stuff again?” Jazz asks, taking a sip from her own stupidly expensive drink and giving him eyebrows that beg for his explanation.

“Yeah. I was trying to get your brother to explain stuff without all the science mumbo jumbo. I just, I guess that means he defers to you.” Jason sighed, and tried to not think about how pretty her eyes were as she observed him.

“Not likely. But is the search for your answers helping you cope from day to day or making you climb an impossible mountain?” Jazz asks and it makes Jason fluster.

“It’s a moving goal post, sure, but I need answers if I’m going to fix my-“

“I think it might help you to realize that people don’t need to be fixed, they just need to grow.” Jazz interrupts.

They finish their drinks in a comfortable nonchalance, the rest of their conversation doesn’t go anywhere beyond their mutual hobbies and he’s grateful for that.

Jason's been doing a lot of introspection since this all started.

——

The first time it happened was months ago.

He confronts Danny after a mission, just wanting a simple answer on whether or not Danny thought the Lazarus pit contained ectoplasm? Could ectoplasm be separated from blood? Danny looked a little uncomfortable.

“Look dude, I know you want to know more but like, having this info isn’t going to help you. You need to talk it out.” Danny sounds sad and his eyes are filed with something adjacent to pity. It riles up the pit inside him.

“Oof. See that whole reaction thing. That’s not ectoplasmic, that’s something different. C’mon follow me.” Phantom cringes as he talks to him, and then floats across the rooftops, going slow enough that Jason can keep up on his grapple.

The arrive at a modest apartment building, not too far from his territory but clearly outside of it. Danny opens a window and slides in ahead of Jason, and all of a sudden he’s seated at a kitchen table with hot chocolate and teal blue eyes peering into his soul.

“Danny, some warning next time you’re bringing a crime boss to my apartment.” Jazz sighs and its not said with any malice or sarcasm. Danny gives her a grin and a peace sign before disappearing.

“So you want to talk about it?” Jazz turns back to him and asks.

“About?” Jason’s deep voice is going through the modulator and it sounds more sinister than it should.

“Death. Dying. The afterlife. Those are the normal things Danny brings people to me for.” She blinks.

“There’s a misunderstanding, I don’t need to talk, I need answers on Ectoplasm.” He grits out.

"Hm. Well that's not my field of study, but I can tell you that however your feeling is probably a valid response towards the trauma you've faced in life. Do you think showing yourself some kindness might lessen your desire to know the knitty gritty details?"

Jason scoffs.

"Oh. You're serious. No. I don't think being kind to myself is a valid approach to dealing with an infection that's cost me a lot of family relationships." Jason rolls his eyes. The woman looks contemplative for a moment and Jason can tell that while the dim kitchen lights are doing her no favors, she's incredibly beautiful. He pockets that information and refuses to think about it.

"So...Lets take this a different direction. Do you think successful people know what they're doing or do you think successful people need help to get where they want to go?"

"Most people are dumb and trying to get by." Jason grits out.

"So, accept that you're dumb. And then get by." Jazz replies, and then sighs and leaves the room.

Jason however, is now pissed off. Who the heck was she to say that to him?

____

The next time he finds himself across the table from Jazz, he's been on a wild goose chase with Danny and lands himself in a fancy restaurant. Why the hell was she here?

"Uh, it's called self care." Jazz replies, because apparently Jason asked that out loud. But he's not going to let this lead get away from him.

He takes off his helmet, years of muscle memory make him check that his Domino mask was in place, and sits down across from her. She raises a brow and then sighs.

"You think Danny might give me answers if I hold you hostage over, what is that, some kind of gnocchi dish?"

"Mm. Probably not." Jazz says, taking a bite and pulling out her phone.

"You're just going to ignore me then?" Jason finds himself a bit flabbergasted, he was a fucking crime lord, not someone to be ignored! Like he's just- just some bad blind date!

"Uh huh. You don't want to work on your issues and it's not my job to lead a stubborn horse to water."

"The expression is that you can lead a horse to water but you can't-"

"Can't what? Or are you still going to tell me it's not a huge waste of my time to tell you that you need to accept and forgive yourself to be able to move on. Find peace. Rest." Jazz is taking bites between her last few words but her glare remains unshakeable.

Jason is about to get up and leave when a terrified waiter comes over: "A dish, as compliments from the chef. Your guest's meal as well." He's shaking as he speaks and it makes Jason feel bad.

"Thanks." He grits out.

"...Is that the lasagna?" Jazz is looking at his food curiously, and Jason pushes it forward to indicate that she can take a bite. Probably not the safest thing for a civilian to do considering people regularly try to poison Jason but, meh. He's kind of pissed off at her still.

"It's pretty good. I was debating between that and the gnocchi- Okay let's think about this differently. You want to know about the green stuff, Danny is never going to tell a mortal about it and you keep denying yourself basic self-respect. What does your support system look like?"

"You're really pushing my buttons lady-" Jason can feel the green, but after a breath and seeing her unimpressed gaze "-I have a few friends who know what my deal is, I have an older brother who claims to forgive me, and a merry band of goons that I call my henchmen."

"Henchpeople?" Jazz asks.

"I mean, sure. That's more accurate."

"What do you do for fun?" She asks.

"I take down crime syndicates-" she levels him with another glare, he wonders why its so effective on him "-I read."

"Yeah? What genres?"

"Classics." He can admit only that much.

"Nerd. Are you going to eat any of that? You really shouldn't let food waste like that when it's not even fighting back."

"I don't know why I'm even bothering to talk to you right now." Jason spoke plainly.

"I dunno either but it's easier to tolerate you without the stupid helmet speaker. Anyway, If you like to read, hopefully that means you like to see new scenarios, new plots, stuff like that. You ever think to put yourself in side-character mode and contemplate what your whole deal is bringing to the table?"

"...How so?"

"Like, if you don't think it's worth it to treat yourself well, how do the main characters feel? Or, you know, if you were a child reading your story, what would you shout at them to move forward differently?"

"... I've decided that I only read poetry." Jason grumbles, trying to deflect with humor the fact that he does have some thoughts about what she's saying. She actually laughs at his joke though- he hadn't anticipated that.

"Uh, what is the Dr. Suess line? Stop telling outlandish tales, stop turning minnows into whales? something like that."

"Dr. Suess? Really?" Jason laughs.

"Sorry Mr. Classics, I spent most of my childhood raising my brother, forgive me for not knowing any fancy poetry." She huffs but he can tell she's laughing with him still.

They get off the topic of his mental health crisis and it turns out the Lasagna isn't half bad.

----

Jason keeps chasing Danny. Danny keeps leading him to Jazz. It goes for a few rounds before the ghost kid makes a joke about Jason liking her better anyway. Jason asks what the hell Phantom means by that, but Danny just laughs and says that Jason should just ask for her number.

...This does not sit right in his gut all of a sudden. Does he think that, that Jason is only pursuing this knowledge to keep talking to Jazz?? Does Danny want him to pursue Jazz? Does HE want to pursue Jazz???

----

He spots the Replacement in the Cave's lab before he heads upstairs to grab a cookie and leave as a civilian. The reason he even looked that way being that Tim is holding glowing green vials.

"Is that-"

"Yeah. They're literally the same except for the magic mumbo jumbo that Ra's has mixed in with the pit. Leave me alone now."

"So there is a way to heal it or, or extract it or-" Jason can feel his heart racing, but his constantly-exhausted sibling is looking at him like he's grown a second head.

"Dude. You're not gunna be able to flush it out with like, a juice cleanse. You're probably better off trying to find a magic user to deal with the curses and a therapist to do the rest." Tim looks like he's trying to be patient despite being deeply, deeply vexxed.

"Therapist- why in the hell would I-"

"I mean hasn't that been Danny's entire solution for you? He's only had one strategy the whole time he's lived in Gotham." Jason rolls his eyes.

"His solution is setting me up on dates with his sister not-"

"Dates!?! His sister is THE break out psychologist, she's done more for Arkham in the last year than decades of political reform! You've been goin on- wheez- oh my god I have to call Danny-" Tim is cackling, the lazarus water all but abandoned.

"Don't you fucking dare!"

After a (from both brothers) number of punches, a few headlocks and a large portion of threats, Jason agrees that Tim can tell his boyfriend but no one else.

Kon can keep a secret right? That's why he's the favorite?

----

"So... You and Jazz huh?" Danny looks amused as he floats by- Kon could not be trusted. The entire Justice league knows. Jason might have to die again. Apparently he said as much.

"Oh buddy, it's okay! You don't have to die again! I'm sure that if she likes you, she likes you just as you are, weird little zombie boy." Danny teases, turning intangible as Jason swings a punch at him.

"What do you mean if she likes me?" Jason asks, swinging with his grapple, trying to keep up with Danny.

"You think I read her diary or something? Weirdo. You need to talk to her about it tho, it's funny and all but I'm sure she's not a fan of the JL hot goss."

"I didn't start any of this-"

"My guy. Chill. I know, but uh, I did definitely tell her about it so... Oh look! We made it all the way to her apartment! BYE!"

Jazz is standing in the window and she looks like an absolute vision. Her glare makes him want to shit his pants however, and he knows that it's going to take all of his brain cells making contact to survive this encounter.

He sits on the fire escape when he realizes that she's not moving from her spot in the window, blocking his way. Ouch.

"So let me get this straight, you thought this whole time-"

"I thought Danny was being annoying and trying to set us up! I didn't know you were a shrink!" He tries to defend himself.

"...Why should I date an idiot?" the like yourself goes unsaid but he can hear it. Jason is scrambling.

"...I can make even better lasagna than that fancy restaurant you like." is what he lands on. Jazz bursts out a laugh.

"I was just fucking with you, but honestly what a great response." She's wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

"Just fucking with me?" He grins a bit, unable to stop himself from getting excited.

"Yeah, I've been telling everyone at work that I'm dating the Red Hood for like, months now. It's been stellar for my hostage record, I haven't had an issue since I started the rumor!"

"We're dating?" Jason asks, a bit bewildered but charmed.

"I wouldn't give free therapy to just anyone! Now about that Lasagna-"

Something, something, something- they seal the deal with a kiss.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc crossover #dp crossover #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jasonxjazz #jazz x jason #long post #phanfic #jazz fenton

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 24

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

Link to Jazz's armor design and ramble about ideas >>HERE<<

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

First chapter || << Previous chapter || Next chapter >>

---

Bruce sighed. Danny choked.

“You— You guys had bets going on?”

Dick stopped his celebratory dance to have the decency to look ashamed. “I mean… Maybe?”

Danny’s smirk replaced his worried face, and the mischievous little brother was back; wearing a heavy and clearly magical armor from another dimension, but still the same person.

“How much?”

“What?”

“How much was the bet?”

“There were a few,” Dick explained, ignoring Bruce’s tired sigh in the background, “But Stephanie thought Jazz was the King. She bet twenty bucks.”

Danny scoffed, crossing his arms. “I’m offended. I’m worth more than twenty.”

Jazz joined Bruce in the tired sigh department. She even placed her hand on her forehead.

“Wait,” Duke perked up, glancing at Jazz trying so hard to keep it together next to a smirking Jason, “if he’s the Ghost King…”

Jason was the first to catch on. “It means Jazz is—”

“The Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms, yeah!” Danny chuckled and pointed a finger at his sister.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Uh-huh!” He answered, the tip of his finger lighting in more green fire.

“Danny, I swear—!”

She couldn’t finish. Danny shot the fire at her, and immediately the flames spread across her body, revealing armor the same way it did for Danny. On her chest, her comfortable long sleeved blouse was replaced by a crimson red chest piece and dark metallic shoulder armor pieces. Her hands and forearms were covered by more red metal, dented and dull with use, up to her elbows.

On her legs, a pleated skirt made of the same dark gray armor reflected the sunlight when she quickly readjusted her legs to stand up, crimson red boots appearing down her legs from her mid thighs.

As the fire retreated over her face, Jazz was already baring her teeth at her brother.

“Danny!” She growled. “That was unnecessary!”

He chuckled again. “If I have to stand here wearing a stupid outfit then so do you.” He approached her and patted her on the back so hard she grunted and stumbled forwards. “What was the thing? ‘A true warrior shows their armor with pride’?”

She rolled her eyes and moved one hand to pull back some strands of hair that had gotten on her face. Jason followed the movement to the bright red headpiece framing her eyes, and extending into points on the sides of her head. They burned with green flames like Danny’s crown did, as if their transformation were condensed in the pieces of metal.

He also noticed the exposed skin of her arms, how his assessment of her turned out to be true, watching the muscles flex with the small movement — and the scary amount of scars she apparently hid under her clothes. He didn’t miss a big burn scar peeking from under one shoulder piece.

“Man, I wish Steph was here,” Dick took everyone’s attention away from the siblings, “because I was also right on the princess thing.”

“So… This is really nothing to you? Like, it does nothing?” Danny’s wide smile was more amused than it should be. “We are literally interdimensional royalty, here, standing in your fancy mansion,” he did a gesture encompassing the whole room, his sister, and himself, “and nothing?”

Jazz sighed again, the flames on the tips of her headpiece burning a little bit brighter. If one squinted, the vague shape of a circle was starting to form with the fire. Her crown?

“Danny,” Jazz made a gesture towards the not at all surprised Waynes sitting in front of them, “there is something you should know about them.”

“Aha?” He glanced at her, but kept his eyes on the others.

“The Waynes are also heroes. They are—”

“No fucking way.”

“Yep.”

“Jazz,” Danny crossed his arms again, but he was smiling, “you had one job. What was it?”

“To not be noticed by Batman.” She looked away, ashamed.

“And what happened?”

“It was— I was careless. I’m sorry, okay?” She closed her eyes and pinched her nose. “Can we drop it? Please?”

Danny was not going to drop it, but Jason got his attention and made a signal to cut it out. Fortunately, the young King made the decision to listen. The little frown told them it was only temporary.

“Okay.” Nobody missed Jazz’s shoulders immediately relax at the word. “So you guys are the bats and birds, and have known about us for a while—”

“Suspected.” Bruce spoke for the first time since reveals started happening. He cleared his throat. “Jasmine, she— She explained some things, but warned that there were things she couldn’t say due to safety reasons and needed to wait for you.”

Danny raised his eyebrows, looking back between Bruce and his sister. Did he know that there was more story behind those words? No doubt he would ask her more details about how they found out — that’s what he would do — so he wasn’t sure the siblings were going to be this amused and relaxed in their— in his presence anymore.

As much as it pained him, maybe this would be the last time they could get answers.

“She talked about the GIW,” Danny tensed, Jazz pursed her lips, “and warned us about Vlad Masters.”

Like the flip of a switch, any amusement left Danny and he donned a persona they haven’t seen yet: the King. It was subtle, but they were so used to reading body language that they could see the shift happen as clear as day.

“Is that so?” The flames of his crown flared for a second. He glanced at Jazz. “When you said the situation had changed…?”

“The GIW and potentially Vlad are… they know I’m here.” She winced. “They will, when they get here. And Jason—”

“I’ve noticed.”

All eyes went to the mentioned. Danny’s new attitude made his piercing green eyes drill holes on Jason’s skin. If he felt poked and prodded when Jazz watched him, it was nothing next to how he literally felt Danny’s consciousness somehow touch his.

He jumped. “What the fuck was that?”

“Interesting.”

“Don’t ‘interesting’ me! What—”

“Darling,” Jazz sat back down next to him, “it’s okay.”

She took his hand, which helped a lot, but still he glared at Danny as the presence came back. At least now that he expected it he didn’t feel so violated.

“What an interesting case.” He tilted his head. “You sure know how to find them, Jazzy.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“What do you mean?” Jason tried to keep the conversation on track. “What’s interesting?”

Danny licked his lips and shifted his weight from one foot to another. The armor barely made a sound, even if it was expected from such heavy metal.

“You died.” It wasn’t a question. “And your resurrection was painful. What has been done to you was incomplete, tainted, and has left your ghost development stunted.”

That explained absolutely nothing.

“I gave him one of my vials.” Jazz interrupted before he could complain.

That didn’t please her sibling. “Jazz—”

“I know.” The hand that held Jason’s twitched for a second. “But it was an emergency. Would that affect him?”

Danny pondered the question, one hand on his chin. “Maybe. I don’t know. We should check with the yetis.”

“Thought so.” She glanced at her boyfriend. “Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. I told you if there’s no blood, there’s no need to say sorry.”

“As cute as this is, we need to focus on the important part here.” Danny got his sister’s attention. “Situation has changed.”

“Yes.” Jazz took a deep breath. “GIW is coming, Vlad may be as well, and I can’t just—” she rubbed her face, “We need to re-negotiate, re-strategize and move up The Plan.”

“The Plan?” Bruce leaned in, catching on the capital letters.

Danny looked at Jazz. Jazz looked at Jason before looking back at her brother.

“We… Okay. Okay.” She breathed in, breathed out. “We are at war. In the Infinite Realms.” She ignored Danny sitting down beside her and the fire when his armor was gone. “Danny is the King, yes, but he is not the only one who has a claim.”

“Vlad.”

Danny clicked his tongue at the name, but patted Jazz’s shoulder and now her armor disappeared in green flames. “He has been after power ever since he came back to life from his accident.”

“We’ve been fighting Vlad and his supporters, as well as trying to fix the mess left behind by the previous King, ever since Danny took the throne.”

“And this was…?”

The siblings shared a look before Danny answered Bruce: “A week after I graduated.”

He was just a kid.

That being said, Robins started fighting crime way younger than eighteen, Bruce considered. Not the same as becoming the ruler of a whole dimension, though.

“Something you guys need to understand about the previous king, Pariah Dark, is that he was such a tyrant he had to be put into the sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep. Everything has been a mess for millenia.”

Bruce pondered Danny’s words. An interdimensional tyrant they knew nothing about, a war they wouldn’t have learned about if it wasn’t for Jason’s neighbor. He got dizzy for a second.

“But that’s not all.” Bruce nodded along when the siblings did, clearly relieved he was catching on. “The GIW.”

“We have been trying our best. Those documents you found with our parents’ signature,” Danny’s head snapped towards Jazz so fast they confirmed he was not human, or he would have had some real damage, “they were the things we couldn’t stop in time. The research we couldn’t erase in time.” She continued, ignoring Danny’s wild eyes.

Bruce swallowed, trying to get rid of the knot in his throat.

“I have nothing to do with these!”

“Darling, listen to me. Jason, this is not true.”

“This is taken out of context.”

Her voice trembled as she tried to defend herself. How could she even sway him? He now understood there was so much at stake than mad scientists on the rise, but she couldn’t say the whole truth, and by principle he considered a half truth as a lie. Nothing she could have said could have convinced him she wasn’t a criminal he needed to stop.

He was ashamed now. How in his mind it made sense. How he was blinded by Jason’s hypothetical gratitude once he presented the report of Jasmine’s arrest. Maybe he could show him he still cared for him, that he still wished him the best even if it wasn’t with him.

It felt so stupid now. Meaningless. He glanced at his son, relaxed, one of his hands subtly on Jazz’s and tracing circles with his thumb without thinking. Jason, who never seeked physical contact, who didn’t like to be hugged even as a kid.

He would never have that, it would never be that easy for both of them to be comfortable together. He made sure of that.

“I— I understand.” He managed to say. He ignored Duke and Cass’ looks at his choked voice.

“That’s when The Plan comes in.” Danny leaned in. “We need help. With Vlad and the war and how much time it consumes running the show, we decided he had to suck it up and call the Justice League.”

Duke nodded. “Jazz mentioned that Amity Park folks don’t like the League?”

“Oh we hate them. With passion.” He leaned back with a grin stretching from ear to ear, apparently enjoying when Bruce tensed. “They abandoned us when we most needed it. They left a dead teenager in charge of protecting the city.” The grin grew bigger with each accusation. Jazz slapped him on the leg. “But we decided it was worth a shot to confront them and demand that help we were owed.”

Jazz sighed. “What Danny meant to say is, after I was done with my internship at Arkham the next steps were confronting the Justice League and negotiating help with taking down the Guys in White.”

“The Plan.”

She nodded at Duke. “We didn’t know what we would encounter but the situation keeps escalating and our parents… Maddie and Jack have to be stopped.”

Danny looked away, suddenly uncomfortable at the mention of his parents. Were they this bad? How much did Barbara’s research cover? How much were they missing?

“We thought— If it’s okay with you, Bruce — that those negotiations—”

“Of course.” He interrupted her. He straightened his back. “Of course we’ll help. I’m… I’m sorry we weren’t there before.”

Jazz nodded, satisfied. Bruce took it as he said the right thing and he was one step closer to properly apologizing.

“Just like that?” Danny didn’t seem that convinced.

“Yes. I’ll need to write a report and bring it up in an emergency meeting that can be as soon as…” he tried to remember everyone’s schedules, “next Tuesday? Could be earlier but I think the Lanterns were away on some Lantern business and this sounds like something they need to know. And they should be back on Tuesday morning.”

The siblings looked at each other and had another silent conversation with just face gestures and rapid fire microexpressions. After a moment Danny sighed and relaxed, letting his body flop back to the backrest of the couch.

“We’d be very grateful, Bruce. Thank you.” Her smile was genuine.

Bruce glanced at Jason, who was looking at Jazz. As if he knew he was being watched, he turned to look at him. He also was smiling a small smirk as he subtly nodded in approval.

“What a shame,” Danny’s tone was playful, “we had planned for the possibility of fighting the League.”

“Danny.” His sister slapped his shoulder.

“Who would have fought B?”

“Dickward.” Jason gave his brother a warning look.

Both ignored the warning and smiled at each other. “Valerie.” He seemed amused that the other bit the bait and asked. “She’s the best at adapting mid combat, has a hoverboard and a bunch of gadgets that neither of you can ever hack or disable.”

“Why?”

“Is ghost technology. Nothing in it, either the material or the code, is even close to anything you have encountered before. Batman thrives when having enough time to prepare, but believe me we wouldn’t give him enough time to figure out how anything works.”

“We have had access to alien tech before.” Bruce was curious now.

Danny was shaking his head. “Our weapons and technology may look like yours but in essence it isn’t. Since we are friends now I wouldn’t mind lending a few things to study. You know, as a token of my faith.”

Bruce glanced at Jazz. She nodded in confirmation. “Would be honored to.” He finally said.

Did he have to offer pleasantries? Danny was the ruler of a dimension, nonchalant about that fact as he was. Bruce chose not to since they weren’t in their armors anymore.

“And Jazz?” Jason asked Danny.

The mentioned hid her face behind her hands. Danny leaned in to look at Jason from Jazz’s other side. “Green Arrow. And of course, Wonder Woman.”

“I noticed the Amazonian armor.”

“I’m right here.” Jazz growled.

“She’s been trained by Pandora, back at the Greek side of the Realms. All the dead Amazons are over there and some were thrilled to participate in her training; so you could say she’s the closest of us all to her battle style. Also Jazz is the expert for close quarters combat and a wide variety of weapons.” Danny was obviously proud of his sister. And maybe loved embarrassing her too much. “Except guns.”

Dick’s eyebrows went to his hairline. Bruce hid his shock as best as he could, and tried hard not to look at Jason.

“Danny.” Jazz said through gritted teeth. “Stop.”

“What? It's the truth! You are the only one of us that doesn’t fight with ectoguns, but you make up for it really well.” He slapped her back so hard a bone should have cracked.

Jason cleared his throat. “No guns? For any particular reason?”

Duke choked. Would Jazz find Jason’s weapon of choice repulsive? It couldn’t be — she knew about Red Hood, she knew what he had done, how he had done it.

Danny’s smile was as bright as the Sun. “Because she sucks! I’ve never seen such a bad aim.”

“I’ve been getting better!” She groaned, her face crimson red. “I’ve practiced!”

“Oh yeah? I still have scars from the last time you ‘practiced’!” He lifted his shirt, showing his lower back and a very clear healed burn scar in there. “You definitely have dad’s aim!”

“Yeah? And you suck at sword fighting!” Danny flinched. “Do you think I don’t know how many training sessions you’ve missed?”

“Is not that bad…”

“Yes it is, Danny,” she crossed her arms, “since you rely so badly on your powers. What happens if you cannot use them?”

“That will never happen.” He crossed his arms too. “Most powerful being of the Realms here.” Danny shrugged, showing off his perfect rows of pointy white teeth, even in human form.

Jazz snorted and moved as fast as lightning, one hand going for her brother’s stomach to punch him square in the gut. She didn’t hit flesh, because at the last minute Danny’s chest went intangible and her whole arm went through like he was air.

“Ha!” He looked back up to laugh at her — finding her other hand waiting for him.

Jazz flicked his forehead so hard the others flinched at the noise it made, and Danny was sent back to the armrest of the sofa.

“Hey!” He rubbed his forehead. “That wasn’t fair!”

“This is what happens when you don’t pay attention, Danny!” She hissed, gesturing with her hands. “And when you rely way too much on your powers!”

“But—”

“But nothing! I bet since I’ve been gone you’ve skipped every damn sword fighting class. Ancients, I bet I could beat your ass even as rusty as I am now!”

Danny opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. He knew she was right.

The others watched amused as the young man rubbed his forehead again and glared at his sister.

“Not my fault you are a freak.”

“What did you just say?” Jazz tensed, her body ready to pounce.

Bruce cleared his throat, and like magic, the siblings jumped away from each other and sat straighter. Jazz nervously chuckled and fixed her hair again. Bruce smiled. King, princess and all, they were still around his childrens’ age.

Said children giggled, amused by the familiarity of their chaotic dynamic.

“So,” Dick redirected the conversation, “what’s next?”

Jazz tilted her head, thinking. “With my identity revealed, we need to renegotiate with Lady Gotham.”

Danny clicked his tongue. “She’s not going to like it.”

“Well, she will have to if she wants her people protected.”

“Jazz talked about this Spirit,” Bruce nodded. “So there was an agreement?”

“Yeah,” she answered, “as I said, we were not supposed to get closer to Batman or any of the vigilantes, and she wouldn’t be opposed to the Princess stomping on her haunt.” Her cheeks tinted a slight pink as she glanced at Jason. “Obviously that’s void now, and if I’m going to protect this city I need to be able to use my abilities, so we have to chat with her before strategizing.”

“When do you think you are talking to her?”

“Why? Wanna come?”

Bruce’s silence told her that yes, he very much wanted to. She made a weird face, between amused and concerned. “Is it not allowed?” He asked.

Jazz glanced at Danny, who shrugged and was very unhelpful. “I mean… It’s her beloved Knight. Maybe she won’t try to obliterate us on sight if we use him as a human shield.”

“Hey!”

“Actually, it’s not a bad idea.” Bruce conceded. Apologizing for what he had done could also mean mediating when they talked with the sentient city.

He was also curious.

Hm.

“Okay then we could do it sometime tomorrow? Before I have to go back to the Realms.” Danny stretched his back and yawned.

“Are you leaving so soon?”

Danny stopped mid yawn at his sister’s tone of voice. “Why? Did you miss me?”

She didn’t answer, but Jason’s amused nod where she couldn’t see it made Danny chuckle. Jazz would talk your ear out about reaching out and being in touch with your emotional needs; but she also had a hard time admitting that sometimes she also needed her little brother as well.

“You could stay the week? I have work, but apart from that…”

“And we also have to prepare the report with Batman.” He answered, nodding.

“Bruce is fine.”

Jazz nodded at the older man and smiled back at her brother. “What do you think?”

He made a show like he was pondering staying or not, humming and crossing arms, and making a big sigh like a heavy weight was on his chest.

“I guess I can make the time in my busy kingly schedule.” Danny’s smile showed his true age — not a front, not trying to appear mischievous, not wanting to be strong for appearance’s sake.

Just a little brother and his older sister.

---

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#dpxdc #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #jazz/jason #dp x dc #dc x dp #batpham #friendly neighborhood vigilante #neighbors au

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 25

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

First chapter || << Previous chapter || Next chapter >>

---

“So you are saying that the Infinite Realms’ government is organized like a dungeons and dragons party?”

Danny snorted and patted Tim’s shoulder. “Jazz’s idea, actually.”

From where she was quietly talking with Bruce, Jazz huffed. “I never said it was a dungeons and dragons party. I only suggested the organization that fit our strengths better.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Potato, potahto.”

Jazz rolled her eyes, but went back to her discussion.

The group was walking towards the gardens, where a light lunch was served. Time went by as the Waynes asked anything and everything about the Realms and their rulers, now that there were no more secrets between them. They talked about Sam and Tucker and Valerie and even about Danielle, her origins and how she joined the team included.

The Fenton siblings enjoyed oversharing in a way that felt weird to the vigilantes, so used to hiding and concealing their thoughts all the time. Now that they were more comfortable, Danny and Jazz didn’t hesitate to act more inhuman around them, with the younger sibling floating when he got excited as if it was the more normal reaction.

It reminded Bruce of his colleagues in the Watchtower break room goofing around and using their powers for the stupidest reasons.

When Tim rejoined them, this time alone, he was more annoyed about losing the bet than missing the ghost royalty status reveal. Danny thought that was the funniest thing, and gladly started a new stream of oversharing information about Jazz’s princess status and all the titles she held, ignoring his sister’s attempts at silencing him.

They didn’t even notice lunch time approaching until Alfred reminded everyone in the house that they had to eat — yes, even their inhuman guests. The last part was added with a pointed glare and a short nod before the man walked away.

So now they were making their way to lunch, which was served outside given the nice weather despite being way into fall, chatting about Team Phantom and their roles in detail.

“So Sam is like the Barbarian of the team?” Tim pressed on. “And Tucker is the Artificer.”

Jazz huffed again.

“We are not—”

“Actually, is not that far from the truth,” Danny chuckled, “but not exactly just that. All of us are at least trained in one main duty and act as a backup for someone else. That guarantees that if one of us has to leave, nothing will be left unattended.”

“Like with Jazz being here.”

He nodded. “Jazz helped Tucker with all the record keeping and research in magical theory, as well as diplomacy and ghost law studies. Valerie helped Jazz with her main duties, and so on and so forth.”

“Magical theory?” Jason asked, one eyebrow arched. “Ghost law?”

“Sounds cool but it's actually just reading a bunch of books and trying to guess what they say.” Danny grumbled, rubbing his face. “I swear there is nothing that can make me pass out faster than reading those fuckers.”

“That’s because you don’t do your homework. Dorathea is a very good teacher.” Jazz chimed with a mocking smile.

Duke interrupted when Danny jumped to answer. “You said that the books weren’t Jazz’s main duty, so what is it?”

The young woman tensed for a second before putting on a gentle smile. It didn’t fool anybody, though. “I am—”

“Jazz.”

She turned towards her brother. “What?”

“Jazz, look.”

She frowned at his serious tone, the boyish glee gone completely, but turned to look at what he was pointing at.

It was a giant painting on the other wall of the room they just passed by, which was featuring a small family — a woman, a man and a child. All three were wearing nice clothes, serene smiles for the portrait.

“What’s the matter?” Bruce stepped closer to see what they were seeing, tensing when he realized what it was. “Why are you pointing at my parents’ portrait?”

The siblings looked at each other. “That’s your mother?” Jazz finally asked.

The look Bruce gave her was equal parts worried and calculating. “Indeed.”

Again Danny and Jazz talked to each other with facial gestures and looks.

“It can’t be.” Danny murmured. “Can it?”

“I don’t know.” She answered.

“Hey.” Jason grabbed Jazz’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

She glanced at her brother, frowning. She licked her lips and drew a long breath. “That’s Lady Gotham.”

One second passed by. Two seconds.

“No, that’s my mother.”

Dick giggled at the absurdity of the situation.

“Could she be wearing someone’s face?” Jazz ignored Bruce’s quiet breakdown to talk to her brother. “Or is it like ‘the Spirit passes down ownership’ kind of situation?”

Danny hummed. “I don’t think it is the second case,” he crossed his arms, “she felt like an Ancient and this woman couldn’t have been dead that long.”

“Are you saying that an ancient spirit is wearing my mother’s face?” The older man said, voice small. Even Jason frowned at the weakness in his tone.

Jazz seemed to snap back to reality and noticed that the conversation may not be the best given current company. She sighed. “We don’t know. Maybe. Was your mother special in any way for this city?”

“Are you kidding? Haven’t you heard about the Martha Wayne foundation? Or all the charity stuff in her name?” Tim scoffed. “Do you live under a rock?”

Jazz blushed. “I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “I don’t pay that much attention to current events outside my work and Crime Alley.”

Jason pretended to try to hide his smile in Jazz’s hair as he pulled her for a side hug.

Danny made a face at the pair, shook his head and turned towards Bruce. “We can’t be a hundred percent sure, but it’s not unheard of for an ancient Spirit to change their appearance. It’s usually to fit in as time passes; but taking the face of a real person from their hunt?” He tilted his head, and Jason noticed the similarity with his sister. It was adorable. “That’s a new one for me.”

“We can always ask?” Jazz tried to move past her misstep.

“Do you really think she’d want to talk about that?”

“Maybe. If we ask nicely.” Neither sibling actually believed these words.

Bruce blinked slowly and started walking again, lost in thought. The rest followed as if nothing even happened.

“Is she really that scary?” Duke asked.

“She is…,” Danny started, rubbing the back of his neck, “she is surely something else. This city is cursed, man; so it doesn’t surprise me that the Spirit overseeing this place is just as cursed.”

“What Danny is trying to say,” Jazz jumped in, “is that the Spirit of Gotham has been deeply corrupted and, well, she’s definitely in pain, and sometimes she lashes out.”

“That’s a nice way to put it,” her brother scoffed, shaking his head and not looking at anybody. “I don't know what nice and watered down version of the story Jazzy here told you guys but when we first came here, she was pissed. King or no King, she was ready to kill me.”

Jazz blushed again. “I don’t—”

“Yes, you do.” Danny rolled his eyes.

She looked like she had something to say, but chose to close her mouth and ignore the chuckles.

They finally arrived at the nice backyard patio where a table was already set up for lunch. Alfred walked around the table with his cart, setting down the plates and giving the finishing touches to the display.

Nobody missed his little smile watching them naturally divide in groups and sit down together, his eyes lingering on Jason refusing to let go of his girlfriend’s hand even under said girlfriend’s brother's snarky comments about it.

It had been a while since the Manor was filled with noise like this. It felt… alive. Like how it was supposed to be.

The old man quietly grabbed his cart and went back inside to plate the second course for the meal. He didn’t glance at the moving shadows and the trickster reflections on the corner of his eyes — after so many decades serving at this Manor, this family, he got used to not being exactly alone inside those walls.

***

“I don’t know how you are going to break it to Frighty.”

Jazz froze mid bite, frowning as she swallowed the food. “What do you mean?”

Bruce raised his eyebrows at Danny’s shocked expression. The young man looked around the table, maybe looking for support or an explanation, but he probably forgot they just met that morning.

“Are you serious?”

“What?”

“You really don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Jazz, Fright Knight has been courting you for around a year.”

Tim froze, glancing up to see Jason’s reaction. Expecting loud shouting to start, he was even more shocked when Jason leaned back on his seat and crossed his arms with a giant smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow.

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.” Jazz leaned in, glaring at her brother on the other side of the table.

“Hold on a second,” Dick pushed his empty plate aside to lean closer to Danny, “Fright Knight? The King’s right hand man? The Aspect of Fear?”

“That’s the one!”

“I don’t—” Jazz blinked, “I don’t know— How? When?”

“Uhhhh, since the first siege, I believe?” Danny's smile went from one ear to the other. “He said, and I quote, ‘I had never felt such things in battle before. Lady Jasmine’s war cries pierced my chest deeper than her lance pierced our enemies’.”

Tim shuddered. It was the way Danny impersonated this Fright Knight’s sickening dreamy voice.

“The first siege? That was more than two years ago!”

“And you haven’t noticed this guy being in love with you?” Jason spoke for the first time, grinning at his girlfriend.

“I don’t know?” Jazz threw her hands up. “I thought he was being nice!”

“For a whole year?”

“He’s been giving you courting gifts, Jazz!” Danny said, incredulous. “And you accepted them!”

“So those were courting gifts?”

“What were those gifts?”

“Swords.” Danny answered Jason. “Shiny blades. Ornamental and functional. Jazz has a collection back in the Realms.” He turned towards his sister. “Which, by the way, people keep sending gifts for you. I think they think that you are the ‘reasonable’ one of us and if they send you more swords you’d be more merciful.”

“I don’t need more swords.”

“You liar. You love swords.”

Jazz blushed, unable to say otherwise. “Still nothing he did told me he was interested.”

“Ancients, Jazz,” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. “Everyone knew he was head over heels for you. We thought you were preferring to deal with it in private.”

Her blush became worse. She kept her gaze fixed on her hands fidgeting with her napkin. “You know I don’t do all the romance stuff.”

Incredulous, Danny just pointed at Jason. “And how do you explain him?”

“It’s…” she licked her lips, “different. Unexpected. We just— we clicked.”

“Awww.”

Danny made a face and rolled his eyes, ignoring Dick and Cass’ cooing.

“Well. I’m not going to be the one dealing with all that. Frighty is all yours.”

Jazz sighed. “I’ll talk to him when I go back to the Realms.”

“Hm.” Danny hummed, suddenly lost in thought as he sipped his water. “Maybe you don’t have to.”

“What?”

“I said: Maybe you don’t have to.” He spoke louder. “Come back, I mean.”

She did a double take. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Danny took a second longer than what was expected. “You can stay here.” He leaned back on his seat, putting as much distance as he could from his sister. He was also evading her eyes. “Permanently.”

There was only the sounds of the birds chirping in the nearby trees and the wind flowing between the leaves for a few seconds.

“Are you—” Jazz’s voice was careful, low, “Are you firing me?”

Half the table was looking at Danny and the other half had their eyes glued on Jazz’s face. Her rage, while quiet, was familiar to those witnessing the moment — betrayals, infightings and disbelief ran though their minds as they remembered similar situations in their pasts.

“Jazz—”

“After everything you just— What the hell Danny?”

“I’m not— Could you at least look at me?” She did, and everyone could see her watery eyes. “It’s for your own good.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Jazz’s expression turned murderous as the tears escaped her eyes. She stood up, teeth grinding, breathing deeply a few times before she opened her mouth.

“You don’t mean that.” She crossed her arms.

Danny looked like he wished he was anywhere else but in that room at that moment. “Bad choice of words. I don’t mean that.” He slowly repeated.

“Good.” Her shoulders relaxed a bit, but she was still mad.

“What I wanted to say is…” He sighed and lifted his hands in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at— You know I always mess these things up— Okay, okay I’ll get to the point.” He quickly added under Jazz’s narrowing eyes. He breathed in, breathed out. “I want you to stay here. In the living world. As long as you want.”

She processed his words, and slowly sat back down. The sounds of nature around them picked up like nothing happened, even if no one had noticed their rather unnatural silence.

“But you said…”

“I know. But things have changed, Jazz. I want you to stay. How could I not be okay with that?”

“But— But my role— And the Archives, and Walker, and—”

“Everything can wait. Or, I don’t know, we’ll deal with it.” He leaned in and took one of her hands in his. “We told you to come here because you really needed a vacation, and I stand by it. The Keep can wait for you. I can wait for you.”

“But—”

“Jasmine Fenton. You have given up everything for me. You were not meant for any of this ghost bullshit or war or fist fighting gods in a Denny’s parking lot. But you gave me a decade of that, and I appreciate it, but that’s enough. You can rest now, you can have nice things. You deserve it.”

Nobody missed when Danny gave Jason, and quick look around the people on the table, when he mentioned the “nice things” she could have.

Jazz opened her mouth only to close it again, more tears coming to her eyes. Her cheeks tinted red, maybe from embarrassment, maybe for remnants of her anger.

She yanked her hand from her brother’s and rushed to her feet, taking a shaky breath.

“Excuse me.”

Jason frowned, watching her go back inside the house and probably looking for a place to calm down.

He felt a kick on one leg.

“Go.” Danny interlaced his hands on the table and nodded in his sister’s general direction. “She needs you.”

Jason’s frown deepened, but he obliged without saying a word.

Bruce cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very self conscious under Danny’s stare. The young man didn’t look affected by what just happened like his sister was, but his eyes betrayed the conflicted emotions he hid behind his mask.

“I’m sorry you guys had to witness that. I should have waited until we got home. My bad.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, but it felt like forced nonchalance.

“That was sure something.” Dick commented after clearing his throat.

“I apologize but I need to ask,” Bruce leaned in. “Jasmine seemed pretty adamant her time here was limited, that she would sooner or later have to leave everything here. What changed?”

“Did she tell you that?” Danny made an incredulous face and scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t even need to ask. I don’t know why I keep being surprised by her antics.”

“So it’s not true?”

What else had she been lying about? A tiny voice said in the back of Bruce’s head. He tried to ignore it, but given the drastic differences between Danny’s and Jazz’s behavior, he was wondering what was the actual picture and what was the siblings’ casual omission of truth.

“It was true, but only because she herself sets those limits. Jazz is…,” he sighed, deflating on his seat, looking at the sky, “I love my sister, and a lot, but she takes everything too seriously.”

Or you don’t take things seriously enough, Bruce thought, but chose not to say it.

“I never said she had a time limit, or that she had to turn her back on the living world for the rest of her life. We sent her ass to the Arkham internship because she doesn’t know how to take a break.”

“Arkham is a break?” Tim asked what had been lingering in everyone’s heads. The siblings kept referring to working at the worst psychiatric criminal facility, a vacation and a break.

Danny scoffed again, turning his eyes towards the young man. His smile wasn’t kind. “You guys haven’t put it together? The kind of role Jazz has in the Realm. The kind of person she… The kind of person I asked her to become.”

There was deep guilt in his voice, and in the way he couldn’t hold his gaze. Danny fidgeted with his napkin, letting the birds sing the tension of his silence away. They were waiting on him to elaborate, and he knew that, but was building the courage to speak.

“Do you guys know how powerful I am? No, you don’t,” he answered himself with a shrug, “because there’s no one like me. I could— If I wanted to, I could bring this city, the whole city, into the Infinite Realms. Just like that.

If I wanted to I could end the war with a snap of my fingers. I could Order every ghost-adjacent being to follow my every command and bring peace via total domination. Or,” he stopped his fingers, sighing, “I could just rip their cores with a thought and crush them with another and be done with Vlad and with every stubborn ghost that thinks I don’t deserve to be King.”

He finally glanced up at Bruce, as if he knew all these scenarios passed though the man’s head as he spoke. “Imagine that — Every conflict, every war, I could wish it away in seconds.”

The older man nodded, following his speech. “And yet you are here.”

Danny’s vulnerable smile reminded him so much of Clark’s. “I can’t. I can’t do that. If I— If I just eliminate every little thing in my way, what kind of person would I be? I’ve seen it happen, Bruce. I know what I could be if I lose perspective of who I really want to be.”

Cass lifted her hand like she was in a classroom. “Jazz. She’s your anchor.”

Danny went back to looking at his hands, shoulders sagging. In shame? In defeat? “All of them keep me grounded, even when I feel like I’m drifting away from who I used to be. But Jazz? She knows what needs to be done, what I’m scared to do. She knows she can handle the guilt and the nightmares and the horror.”

He took a long breath to calm himself. “Jazz is what I can’t— what I won’t be, and she took that burden like it was nothing. She has always done that, taking the bad things and dealing with them for me. It’s just… This time, the ‘bad things’ are a little bit more permanent.”

It made sense now. How she avoided talking about it, how Jazz tensed when she was asked what her role was. How she was so comfortable at Arkham.

“She’s your Executioner.”

Danny flinched at Bruce’s words. “She’s that and more. She became a counterpart for me, a shadow, so I could shine in the spotlight. A symbol.” He said the word like it was a curse. Bruce didn’t miss the twitch in his eyebrow. “Do you know why her armor is bright red?” His smile wasn’t kind when he looked up. “The Infinite Realms are green. She stands out and attracts all the attention in battle so the rest of us can be the heroes of the hour.” He chuckled. “She never wanted any of this. She didn’t defeat the previous King, she wasn’t even there. I know my childhood could have been way worse if she wasn’t in my life, and I’m grateful, but I kept asking more and more from her and now—”

“Do you really think I didn’t want this?” Jazz’s voice cut through Danny’s rambles. “I chose to stay, Danny.”

He didn’t react when he saw her walk in, her face puffy and her eyes still wet. Did he know she was listening? Of course he did — from what the vigilantes could gather so far, Danny’s abilities were up there with Superman’s. Maybe even more.

“Don’t.” He frowned. “I can see right through your bullshit, Jazz. There wasn’t that much of a choice and you know it.”

She bit her lips, but didn’t deny it. Instead, she pulled on her joined hands with Jason’s so they approached the table and sat down.

After settling in her seat, she breathed in, breathed out and smiled. “You are making me sound like some kind of demon or something.” Nobody bought the lightness of her tone.

Danny caught her deflection and chose to follow. He scoffed. “And you are not?” He made a gesture with his hands, placing them on the sides of his head with his pointer fingers up, imitating his sister’s headpiece.

She rolled her eyes. “I am not—”

“Jazzy, fear incarnate is in love with you. He let you ride his horse!” He smirked at Jason. “Not an euphemism.”

He caught on what the siblings were trying to do and turned towards his girlfriend. “You never told me about any horse, darling.”

“Nightmare was a strategic move. Frighty knows I can’t fly like the rest of you and it could give me an advantage during battle.”

“Nightmare? Seriously?” Jason asked.

“Big black horse with wings.” She quickly explained with a shrug. “Breathes fire.”

“Are you serious? Fright Knight doesn’t let me even touch his horse and I’m the King!” He threw his hands up in the air. “That being said, he doesn’t challenge me as much as he does with you, and thanks the Ancients for that.”

“Wait. Wait a second. Are you saying—”

Danny’s smile grew like a Cheshire Cat’s. “Ooohhhh. You didn’t know? Did you forget the one basic fact about ghost nature, Jazzy-pants? Ghost’s love language is fighting.” He said the last part imitating her voice, like she was giving a lecture of some kind.

“Oh? Tell me more?” Jason leaned towards Danny, head leaning on one hand, completely enraptured by the information his girlfriend’s brother shared so easily.

“And he wasn’t pulling any punches either. Before I learned he was formally courting her, I wasn’t sure if he wanted to fight her to death or marry her!”

“He could do both if he’s not a coward.” Jason shared the smile with Danny, ignoring Jazz’s hands pushing his shoulder away from her.

“Hey!” Jazz protested, but there was a small smile on her lips. “Don’t encourage him!”

“Wait until I tell you about The Ballad of the Red Demon.” Danny also ignored his sister, and the eyes of the rest of the Waynes, as he summoned a notebook with more green flames. He cleared his throat, opened the notebook and started reading:

“The fire in her eyes burned brighter than any sun, as the sharp edge of her blade pierced your chest to meet your untimely end.

Don’t provoke the Red Demon, for her burning fury will consume you in a blaze hotter than the Realm’s Core.

There she rides the winged Dark Horse as her cries call for the blood of her enemies, bright green eyes already searching for the next target.

Don’t provoke the Red Demon, for her siren’s call will be the last thing you hear before you draw your last breath.”

“What in the Ancients is that?” Realization came to the young woman. She slapped the table and stood up. “Ghost Writer?”

Danny nodded. “He gave me the first draft to approve before getting into editing.” He shook the notebook closer to his sister. “There’s a chapter for each of us, don’t think it’s just about you.”

He rolled his eyes and reopened the notebook, getting ready to continue reading, but Jazz jumped and reached across the table trying to snatch the notebook before he continued. He managed to float away just in time to prevent her from taking it from him, and quickly flew high enough that she couldn’t reach him, but close enough that he was almost within reach.

“Awww, you don’t want our new friends to know about your feats during the last siege? About—” he glanced at the text, quickly murmuring words under his breath, “‘Her fiery hair glows like a damned halo’ and ‘sharp blade like a gentle kiss of death’ something something ‘crushing enemies under her foot’.”

Jazz was trying to jump high enough so she could catch her brother, her face crimson red as the others chuckled at the scene.

Finally, taking pity on her, Jason reached for the book as Danny was distracted reading the next stanza and seized it away from the floating Fenton.

“Thank you.” She breathed in relief, extending her hand so he could give her the notebook.

With a tiny smile, he opened it and tried to read too, but it was written in symbols he felt he recognized but couldn’t read.

“Do you have an official translation yet or do I have to wait?”

---

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[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 21

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

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---

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

“Your ankle is twisted.”

“Is not that bad,” Jazz said for the tenth time. And it really wasn’t, she had worse before, and it would be healed in a few days, tops. She wasn’t in top condition since she had to share her last dose of ectoplasm with him; but that didn’t mean she would let a sprained ankle bother her so easily.

“Are you sure you are okay? Jason is an absolute unit.”

“Hey.”

“What? You know it’s true!”

Dick nodded at Tim. “I almost broke my back trying to carry him piggyback once.”

“Really?” Jazz looked up from where Alfred was kneeling with the first aid supplies. She had already tried to insist she could deal with it herself and had been ignored twice. “Are there photos of that?”

“Sadly, no.”

“Damn.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

Jazz turned to smile at her boyfriend, not-that-secretly enjoying his slightly pink cheeks.

“Hmm?”

Everyone turned to look at Alfred when he hummed. The butler was frowning, eyes fixed on Jazz’s right foot — not in her red and swollen ankle he was about to bandage, but on one of her toes. It was crooked and stood out next to the other perfectly aligned ones.

Oh. Right.

“What happened?”

Jazz felt a bit crowded when the siblings leaned in to see her foot. She could feel their eyes scrutinizing her feet, and she never felt more self conscious before. She could have painted her toenails, at least, but she didn’t find time to do so before the dinner.

“I broke my toe a long time ago.”

Dick wore what she had come to understand was his “that’s nice” smile. She had seen him use it many times during gymnastics class, when he definitely had some comments to say but bit his tongue and said “that’s nice” instead. He had used it with her a few times, but she didn’t hold it against him.

“It didn’t heal fine.” Tim beat him to the comment. Jazz expected it, and sighed.

She gathered her thoughts as Alfred carefully twisted her foot this and that way, not upsetting her injured ankle.

“I was… eight? Ten? I think I was ten years old. I ran upstairs a bit too fast and stumbled with the last step and broke it.” She fixed her eyes on her feet when she continued: “I thought — It was just one toe. I thought I could power through and it would heal on its own.”

Someone tensed. From the corner of her eye she saw Bruce shuffle closer. She didn’t miss his troubled eyes as she ranted about her childhood back at the dinner table.

“Your parents didn’t take you to the hospital?” He asked, trying very hard to mask his horror and disappointment. Cute, but unnecessary.

“They would have, if I had told them.” Why did she get weirdly defensive, even after all these years? “But I knew I couldn’t afford the hassle of getting a toe splint and the bed rest. Danny — We had to eat. The house wouldn’t run by itself.”

Jazz had time to reflect and address how unfair it was for her to assume that role so young. She didn’t help either, trying so hard to be treated like an adult and shoehorning herself into the parenting position; but her parents gave up control to her too easily and faster than what should have been legal.

“So you walked around with a broken toe? For months?”

She didn’t look at Jason, but nodded in response. Memories of the pain coming back to her mind. It hurt so much. It really, really hurt, but she just couldn’t give up. Giving up meant not eating. Meant her grades slipping and having the school call her parents. Meant worrying Danny.

“At the time I was dealing with a lot of pain. It wasn’t until we discovered the long lasting effects of ecto contamination that we realized that the pain Danny and I experienced for the best part of our childhood and adolescence was the ectoplasm changing us from the inside out. I thought it was just growing pains. So I just… ignored it all and moved on.”

It truly was how she lived her life, huh? Ignore the pain and power through. That’s how she dealt with things when she was a kid, how she did during highschool. How she managed to just adapt and give up her dreams so she could become Danny’s pillar and support during the preparation to be King. How she came out in one piece after fighting at his side for so long.

She had always been such a hypocrite — advocating for staying in touch with your inner child, to address mental health, while ignoring her own. Nagging and pushing Danny to not let things accumulate and talk about them with her or with his friends.

And when it was about her? Power through. Ignore. She would have time to work through it later.

A soft touch on her shoulder brought her back to the moment. She breathed out slowly, looking into the eyes of the one person she knew would poke her until she admitted she wasn’t as fine as she thought, and sit with her as she worked through her thoughts.

“I’m okay.” She told Jason with a little smile.

And truly, she was.

Someone cleared their throat, and Jazz jumped, feeling her cheeks burn. Oh, Ancients. She hoped she hadn’t been staring at his eyes for too long.

By the quiet snickers and how the group that had formed around her dispersed, she assumed she did. How embarrassing!

“In any case,” she tried to get back some of her dignity, “that’s the story why the toe looks weird. It healed wrong but,” she shrugged, not really wanting to dwell on that.

“Well,” Alfred continued after a brief tense silence, “we may not have recent pictures of Jason at hand, but I know where the old albums are stored. If you want to see.”

Old albums? As in, Jason when he was a kid?

Jazz perked up at the thought — he must have been such a cute kid! — but looked to check on him if it was okay. Jason was very private and he didn’t talk much about his days at the Manor.

He looked… relaxed? He was lifting an eyebrow and looking at Bruce with a little smile. “I didn’t know you kept the pictures.”

The other man looked a bit tense. “I keep all the pictures of my kids.”

“Awww,” Stephanie leaned over where she was resting over Tim and Bernard’s laps on the other sofa, arching her back to look at Bruce upside down. “Even mine?”

“You are not one of my children, as you like to remind me every day.” Bruce said with a tired sigh, but that made it obvious he was joking.

“Damn right.”

Jazz giggled, a numbing cream Alfred was applying on her ankle tickling her a little. She stayed put as he bandaged her ankle with practiced moves, with just enough compression to support her injured ankle but not enough to cut her blood flow. Jason mentioned that Alfred usually patched them up after patrol.

“Thank you.” She said to the butler when he was done, a conversation about “baby pictures” and half hearted threats flowing around the room.

Alfred smiled at her, softly patted her foot and then gathered the first aid kit stuff and left quietly.

“Picture time!”

Jazz had little time to prepare before Dick dropped a thick album on her lap and sat down on her free side, opening the album on the first page.

The pictures were old and some were shaky and off-focus. They had this homey feeling that reminded her of the days before her parents became obsessed with the portal and family time took a backseat in their lives.

They watched her thumb through the pages and answered questions about the pictures — mostly Bruce, Dick and Alfred — and tried to not crowd her too much. Jason kept himself distanced from the situation, maybe to give her space too, maybe to be able to watch her react to the stories and the pictures of a faraway past. Jazz was polite and showed genuine interest, laughing at the memories with the rest of the group.

Soon they got to the pictures that featured the second addition to the family. Everyone breathed in relief when any reaction from the estranged family member was overshadowed by their guest’s high-pitched squeal.

“So cute!” She murmured, hand hovering over a picture with a much younger Jason covered in bandaids and glaring daggers at the camera.

“It was shortly after he arrived at the manor,” Alfred supplied the information, “and young master Jason didn’t like posing for pictures.”

Her cheeks colored pink, eyes fixed on the picture of a frowning child with curly hair. They watched in silence as she went through the pictures of her boyfriend, wondering what she was thinking. Back then Jason was a completely different person, did she notice the differences? Did she mourn the kid that he was? The man he could have been?

Jazz turned the page and a pile of pictures slid down the album. Jason was the fastest, picking up everything before it hit the floor.

They were Batman and Robin pictures.

“Oh shit,” Tim grumbled, trying to reach for the pictures, “forgot those were there.”

Jason moved his hand, and the pictures, out of his reach.

“I thought I told you to remove them, Master Timothy.” Alfred’s disappointment was perceptible, but his worried glances at Jason’s face minimized the impact.

Everyone held their breath as the man looked at the pictures, smiled, and showed the one at the top of the pile to everybody.

“I forgot how ugly the old uniform was.”

Jazz yanked the picture from his hand and held it close to her chest. “Don’t say that!” She reached for the rest of the pictures. “I liked it.”

“But that’s because you were a groupie.”

“You were a Robin fan?” Bernard jumped at the opportunity to keep the mood light.

“A me fan!” Dick smirked, flipping his hair like a diva. “Our dearest Jasmine was the club president for years!”

“Just two.” She grumbled, face red as a tomato. “And yes, I may or may not have been a Nightwing fan —”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said!” Jazz huffed, keeping her eyes on the pictures. The Robin in those pictures was Dick, given the wavy hair parted on the side. And the giant smile on his face, showing his dimples. “This is so embarrassing.”

“And yet you keep looking.” Did Jason focus on messing with her to ignore everything else? He was as calm and collected as he had been during the whole evening.

“Robin pictures have always been very difficult to come by. Good quality ones, at least.”

Tim smirked, pleased. “Some of my best work, if I do say so myself.”

“These are yours?”

“Yep,” he popped the ‘p’, “although I didn’t catch Dick until his last few months as Robin.”

Jazz hummed in response, eyes still focused on the pictures. “The resemblance is uncanny.” She murmured.

“With?”

“Danny, my brother.” She smiled up at Dick. “He dressed up as Robin one Halloween. Costume was really good, my parents bought the good quality stuff.” She chuckled. “I threw the biggest fit ever — Danny didn’t even like Robin! He thought he was lame and not as cool as Superman. But it was what my parents got him and everyone at school told him he could pass as the real thing; and well, he caved and didn’t give it to me.”

“You wanted to be Robin?” Dick asked, amused.

“Yeah! I was sooo mad. ‘Girls can’t be Robin, Jazzypants’” She scoffed. “Of course my parents weren’t helpful.”

Stephanie hollered, not looking up from her phone screen. “Yeah, girls can’t be Robin. That’s absurd.”

“In the end I went as Wonder Woman, since I didn’t have time to get another costume.”

“You don’t like Wonder Woman?” Jason asked her.

“No, I like her just fine. It’s just—” she sighed, leaning on the backrest of the sofa, gathering her thoughts. “Robin, for me, was more than a celebrity. I was… Growing up, I felt so helpless. Everyday I ended up exhausted and wondering when it would end, counting the days until I turned eighteen and I could take my little brother and leave that house. I think —” her voice got tight for a moment, but she cleared her throat fast, “ — I think that I was a huge fan because Robin was such a capable hero while being a kid like me. If he could do so many amazing things then I could, too.”

Jazz was suddenly pulled into a muscular chest, arms squeezing her so hard she was about to beg for mercy when Dick finally let her go. “That was so nice to hear, my dear number one fan.”

She chuckled, unsure of what to say, feeling everyone’s eyes on her person after such an embarrassing speech. She patted the man’s forearms a few times before moving out of the hug.

“I don’t think I’ve ever shown you guys a picture of my brother. The one with the costume should be somewhere in my childhood house — I remember taking pictures that day — but, here.”

She pulled her phone out and went to the gallery app, quickly finding a selfie of her with Danny. It was at the Nasty Burger and was a bit old, about a year old, but it was safe to show it. No Realms business.

“Tim, he could be your clone.” Bernard murmured, eyes on Jazz’s phone.

Jazz giggled. “Doubt so. We would know”

“What?”

“What?” She answered Tim, a nervous smile on her lips. The other narrowed his eyes, pondering her words, but let it go.

“I can see what you mean about the resemblance,” Dick moved on, “and I’m sure you could have passed as Batgirl, with the red hair. Babs’ is a bit darker, but it’s close enough.”

“I thought about it the next year but Danny said he was ‘too old for trick or treating’ and I also didn’t see the point of spending money on an expensive costume and, well, life happened.” She sighed, going back to the pictures, maybe looking for one of Batgirl. “I should have insisted, who knows. Is in the past now.”

“I mean, if you want the suit, it’s in the basement.”

She gave Dick a look, raising an eyebrow. “No, thank you.”

Dick opened his mouth to insist but he choked with the words, watching Jazz pick the next picture on the pile, showing a much younger Robin. It was Jason, of course, who was pictured running and flying around Gotham’s rooftops.

Everyone watched Jason. Jason watched Jazz.

“You look weird without the white streak,” she smiled up at him, lifting a picture where the kid wearing the bright colored uniform was clear and in frame, placing it next to his scowling face. “Yeah, I think I like you more with the punk hairstyle.”

“It’s a death souvenir.” He said, trying to act nonchalant, but everyone noticed the slight tension in his jaw as he watched her reactions.

“Oh I know. I knew it wasn't dyed since that day in the elevator.” At his incredulous look she added: “I told you. I know death, buddy.”

He rolled his eyes, but picked up the pile of Robin pictures in her hands. Eyes somewhat distant, the now young man went through the pictures without really stopping at any of them.

"These are really good." He commented.

"Thanks…" All Tim got in response was a grunt.

Jazz leaned in to look at the pictures too, one of her hands softly placed on his without drawing attention to the gesture. Jason didn't comment on it either, choosing to continue looking at the pictures.

"Hm." He finally said. "The short pants were a mistake."

Bruce exhaled slowly, realizing he had been holding his breath. Jason looked calm enough, even after everything that happened. Was this a sign that things were going to get better?

“If you hated them so much then you should have changed them,” Jazz’s voice lacked actual bite, and her glare was playful.

“Didn’t have enough time to change anything.” He stopped at a picture where the little kid looked more adolescent. Maybe it was taken the year of his passing. “And I knew Dickolas would flip if I changed the outfit. He hated me—”

“I didn’t—!” Everyone jumped at Dick’s outburst. He shrunk in his seat. “I didn’t hate you,” he started again, softer, “I was mad at Bruce. I shouldn’t have misplaced my anger like that.”

Jason considered his brother for a few seconds, ignoring everyone’s stares, and nodded. Without any other comment, he turned towards his girlfriend and asked:

“What did you think about the second Robin? Wasn’t he also a child hero?”

Bruce didn’t know what hurt more; that he spoke of that child like he was a stranger, or that “hero” was obviously not Jason’s first choice of words.

Jazz snorted and looked down at the picture of a serious-looking fifteen year old Jason Todd wearing the Robin costume.

“I hated him.” She answered in the middle of a tense silence. “He wasn’t as funny.”

Bernard was the first one to break into incredulous giggles, shortly followed by Stephanie. The rest watched in horror, waiting for the trainwreck to happen, unsure what to do at their guest’s statement.

Jason blinked once, twice, and joined the laughter as he grasped Jazz’s face with one hand, squishing her cheeks.

“You are weird.”

“And I’m right. You weren’t as funny.” Her words were almost incomprehensible since she couldn’t move her jaw.

“What are you talking about? I’m hilarious.” He leaned in, pulling her towards him so their faces were very close. His smile wasn’t kind but the corner of his lip twitched with amusement. “You love my death puns.”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard every death joke under the Sun. You are not special.” She said as best as she could articulate.

Everyone saw the young man’s eyes travel down her face to her lips, and what was once a tense silence became charged with the obvious attraction between the couple. If there was ever a doubt they cared for each other, it was gone now.

But instead of kissing, he let her go and leaned back to his lounging position. Jazz chuckled and let her body fall so she could let her head rest on his shoulder. She picked up the picture, admired it for a few seconds and gave it back to Dick to put it with the others in the pile.

“Thanks for showing me these,” she gestured at the album. Whatever else she was going to say was drowned by a big yawn she hid behind her hand.

“I think—”

“You guys could stay the night.” Bruce interrupted Jason. He smiled nervously. “I mean, it’s late and,” he vaguely gestured towards Jazz’s bandaged foot. “Alfred could give you a lift tomorrow.”

It was easy to see through the attempt, even for those that knew Bruce the least.

“Everything is as you left it. Your room—”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Or I can prepare a guest room immediately.” Alfred manifested out of thin air, having left during the picture time to tend to his duties.

Jazz looked up at her boyfriend’s face, worried. She picked his hand but stayed leaning on his side, maybe hoping her weight kept him grounded. Jason was very tense, and she could feel his breaths grow quicker and shallow.

“You can show me your room another day.” She muttered, unsure if it was the correct thing to say.

He looked down at her eyes, searching for something. Exactly what he wanted, she didn’t know; but Jazz held his gaze with determination, letting him know she would follow his lead with whatever option he chose. If he really didn’t want to stay, she was fine with riding back to their apartment with her injured foot.

Jason clicked his tongue and breathed deeply once. “My old room is fine. Just for tonight.”

Goodbyes were brief and hasty, the mood ruined after the uncomfortable exchange. Tim left with Bernard and Stephanie, since the couple was giving her a ride home, and Dick decided to stay the night as well. Duke made a tactical escape to his room with barely saying good night. Cass disappeared for a moment and came back wearing her pajamas, picking up Jazz’ bag and discarded shoe to bring back to Jason’s old room, leaving a spare pajama set for Jazz on the bed by Alfred’s orders.

Bruce watched all happen from his loveseat with a worried face. He glanced at Damian as he passed by with Titus behind him, both coming back from the dog's last walk of the day.

“They are staying the night?” His son asked when he approached, watching Jason pick up the young woman in his arms.

The older man smiled at her blushed face and embarrassed antics at being carried like a princess. “It seems so.”

Damian considered the situation and nodded, his thoughts concealed. Bruce was positive his youngest’s opinion of the new addition to the family changed during the evening; but he didn’t know how Damian felt regarding having Jason back. His son didn’t deal well with change, even less when it was regarding family dynamics, and he was worried about the whole situation.

For the moment everything seemed okay — Damian nodded again and went upstairs to his room without asking anything else.

And so, Bruce was left alone with Alfred.

“I like her.”

The butler hummed at his master’s words. “Shall I prepare a new suit, Master Bruce?”

That finally made the man laugh. “She’s not a vigilante, Alfred.” He said when he calmed down. “I wouldn’t drag her deeper into this life than she already is.”

Alfred gave Bruce a look, lifting one thin eyebrow, like he knew better but was biting his tongue.

---

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#jazz x jason #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz/jason #dp x dc #dc x dp #batpham #dpxdc #friendly neighborhood vigilante #neighbors au

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 22

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

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“Forgive the mess,” Jason murmured as he carried Jazz into the room. “They did leave everything just like I left it, huh.”

Jazz lifted her head from its hiding place in the crook of Jason’s neck. She didn’t expect to be carried in his arms, and even if she should find it funny given how she got injured in the first place, she couldn’t deny it made her heart flutter a bit.

Jason’s childhood room was… what you’d expect from a teenager. It wasn’t messy, but clutter was everywhere — books, comics, more books and what she assumed was a handheld gaming device. Her eyes roamed over the Wonder Woman posters and pictures on the wall, spying a signature in a big one placed safely far from the window and sunlight.

Jason had always been a nerd.

She giggled.

“Cute.” She said, rubbing her cheek against his when he blushed.

“‘m not cute.” He contested halfheartedly. He huffed softly and walked closer to the bed, letting her down on the mattress. “Cass left some clothes for you.” he reached for the neatly folded pajamas and handed them to her. “Do you need help, or…?”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “I have a twisted ankle, I’m not unable to dress myself.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, I’ll change in the bathroom.” He walked towards the drawers, opened one and cursed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was fifteen years old when I last stepped into this room,” he pulled something from the drawer to show her, “and I was a small child.”

Jazz tried really hard to contain her laughter, but the tiny rock band t-shirt over his broad chest was just hilarious. She threw back her head and gave a hearty laugh, not worrying about if he saw her fangs for once.

He chuckled with her, turning back to check the rest of the drawers, rummaging around for a bit.

“Nothing?” She asked softly.

“Nope. And I’m not going to go back out and ask for clothes if I don’t really—” He stopped in his tracks, his cheeks blooming a bit of a blush.

Jazz picked up what he didn’t say. “Do you usually sleep naked?”

She watched his shoulders tense and how he consciously relaxed them before answering. “Yeah. Or just with some boxers or shorts on.” He pointedly wasn’t looking at her.

Okay.

Jazz hummed, controlling her thoughts and what to say. Was this one of those situations she had to be careful to navigate? She didn’t want to send the wrong signals and make the situation more uncomfortable than it needed to be — she knew he was not happy with their sleeping arrangements and Bruce’s pushiness was not welcomed.

“I don’t mind if you want to sleep in your underwear.” First step: vocalize. Don’t leave things unsaid, since not-saying things usually lead to misunderstandings, as she had come to learn.

Jason turned with a confused frown, finally looking at her in the eyes. “Okay?”

“Yeah. It’s okay.” Second: appear calm and collected, safe to be around. “It doesn’t bother me.”

She fiddled with the soft fabrics of the provided pajamas, distracting her hands as she waited for his reaction. What was he thinking? Did he consider this as her making some kind of move? They were going to share a bed for the first time, and she was trying very hard not to feel too self conscious about that fact.

“If you say so…” He finally nodded and walked closer to the desk on the other wall, picking up his stuff from his pockets — keys, wallet and phone — and placing it next to a book pile.

Jazz took this as her cue and picked up the pajamas, quickly hopping towards the ensuite bathroom before Jason caught her and told her she shouldn’t walk on her injured foot. When he finally realized she had made a run for it, she had already closed the door.

Jason dramatically sighed, making her giggle.

She made quick work of the clothes and put on Cass' pajamas, admiring how they flowed over her skin. She suspected some kind of silk blend, but didn’t recognize the brand; not that she expected to recognize it, since she always bought clothes on sale and never worried about stuff like if they were in season or their fabric blends.

She splashed her face with cold water, noticing that the soap brand name was French and with fancy letters. She knew the Waynes were filthy rich, but she guessed that it kind of took a second place in her mind the whole evening. She was more focused on making a good first impression.

Jazz finished getting ready for bed and walked back into the room, her folded clothes in one hand, and hopped towards the same desk Jason left his things. On top of the book pile was Mansfield Park.

“Interesting literature for a fifteen year old.” She picked it up, opening it in a random page, admiring the same sticky notes and annotations she had seen in the books he kept at the apartment, confirming he had always been such a nerd.

“Austen is hilarious,” Jazz could hear the shrug in his voice, “what can I say.”

She put the book back down and turned, finding her boyfriend watching her with those intense blue eyes. He was sitting on the bed, but hadn’t gotten under the covers, opting to rest against the headboard to comfortably watch her every move.

Was he trying to make her self conscious on purpose?

“What?” She confronted him.

“Nothing.” He quickly said. Too quickly.

When he didn’t add anything else, she shrugged and hopped towards the free side of the bed. If he didn’t want to comment on it, she wasn’t going to push the topic. If this was about being self conscious about sharing a bed, or about his nakedness, he didn’t have anything to prove or worry about.

Also, she was very sleepy. Whatever it was, it could wait until morning.

Of course, the bed was gigantic and very comfortable, a wild contrast to her shitty single back at the apartment. Maybe she should invest in a good bed, like she did with her couch.

She turned on her side, careful to not upset her injured ankle, and smiled at Jason, the “good night” on the tip of her tongue.

“Do you…”

“Hm?” She encouraged when he stopped.

Jason cleared his throat and tried again: “Do you not… find me attractive?”

Oh.

Hm.

It was time for that conversation? Well, not the time she would have picked, given that they were sharing a bed in his childhood room; but it is true that one does not pick where conversations happened.

Jazz shuffled around so she was sitting against the headboard too, and picked the hand that was closer to her. She played with his fingers for a moment, admiring how rough his palms were — vaguely remembering when she thought he was an athlete — thinking how she was going to approach this.

“Do you know what an asexual person is?” She tested the waters.

She saw him nod in the corner of her eye. “Yeah. Some of the working girls at the Alley once explained to me.” Jazz nodded. This would make it simpler. “Are you that? Ace?”

Jazz hummed, tilting her head. “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Never actually cared about labeling things. I just know that there are things others care about that I don’t.”

“So you never…?”

“Being ace and having sex are not mutually exclusive.” She finally looked up at him. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but his intense blue eyes made her blush and look away. “But no. I haven’t slept with anybody before.”

“Not interested?”

His voice was soft. And didn’t let her guess what he thought about it.

Jazz wasn’t going to lie, she had never considered that her lack of experience in sex, or lack of interest whatsoever, could become an issue in their relationship. She wasn’t looking for a relationship in the first place, so she didn’t plan for the scenario that her partner thought her disinterest in sex would be a dealbreaker.

Would it be for Jason?

“I don’t know,” she admitted out loud. “I’ve never— I was always too busy, and investing time in something I don’t actually need always felt like a waste of effort.”

He snorted. “Nerd.”

“But it’s true!” She giggled, letting her shoulders relax. She resumed playing with his hand. “It’s not that I wouldn’t have sex, ever; but more like I don’t… care? Sexual attraction was never in my priority list when looking for a partner.”

He hummed, considering her words.

“But I guess if you are interested I wouldn’t mind it? If it’s with you it’s fine.” She shrugged. She knew there were names and labels for the nuances of how she regarded sexuality, but she didn’t research a lot. Once she understood what she felt was normal and had a term, it was enough for her.

He gently dislodged his hand from her to move his arm around her shoulders, trapping her into a half hug, and squishing her face against his naked chest. She placed a hand on the skin, admiring how warm he was, and vaguely tracing a few of the scars she found there. Mostly healed cuts and barely visible scratches, but she spied a gunshot wound closer to his shoulder.

“That’s enough for me.” He finally said, his voice rumbling in her ear. “And if that changes let me know.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest, making her cheeks burn and her eyes water. Any worry she managed to amass since the conversation started had completely vanished, washed away by those simple words. Fearing rejection over something so simple felt silly after what they have already been through, but the confirmation that he cared hit her like a freight train.

“For the record,” Jazz said, her voice a bit choked from emotion, “I do find you very attractive.”

He squeezed her a little, his soft chuckles vibrating under his skin. “Of course, I’m such a catch.”

“A complete snack.” She smiled up at him.

“A straight up hottie.”

Both giggled, faces close. Jazz was leaning more onto Jason, relishing on his warmth — seriously, this man was a furnace — shuffling a little bit so she could reach his lips.

They kissed softly, not really in a hurry to take things anywhere else.

“I’ve been wanting to do that the whole afternoon.” He said when they parted.

Jazz smiled, readjusting herself so she could kiss him more comfortably, grabbing his hair with her free hand. “Me too.” She said against his lips. “You look so cute when you are annoyed.”

“I’m not cute.” He bit her lower lip. “And you should warn me the next time you go all Dracula on me.”

Jazz groaned and moved away, back to her place under the covers, flustered. “I already said I’m sorry!”

He followed, also getting under the blankets so he could pull her body closer to his chest, successfully trapping her in his arms.

“Just saying, if you need to bite someone I’m game but I need to be mentally prepared.”

He was ready for her fight to get out of his arms, so he trapped her lips when she turned to retaliate. Jazz made angry noises against his lips, but eventually caved and kissed him back, relaxing a little.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

And she really didn’t, she thought, deciding to drop the topic and let herself be distracted by what he could do with his mouth.

***

Saturday morning in Wayne manor was peaceful. Jason was having shapeless dreams he wouldn’t remember when he woke up, comfortable in the warmth provided by the body in his arms.

And then that peace and quiet was completely shattered.

“What the hell?”

Jason opened his eyes, already cursing himself for sleeping so deeply he didn’t detect the presence in the room.

“I haul my ass as fast as I can because of a worrying and cryptic message,” the voice continued, getting angrier and louder as he spoke, “to find you like— Like— ugh!”

“Danny?” Jazz sat up on the bed, rushing to get out of the covers.

“And he’s naked. Great.”

Jason tried to make his brain work, but it felt like it had been replaced with cotton. He reached for the night table, but of course he didn’t have his knife. Because this wasn’t his apartment. Right. They were at the Manor.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was when I couldn’t find you?” Jason turned to look at the new person, finding Jazz's brother standing there. He was shorter than he expected, and also scrawnier. “I thought— Jazz, do you know where you are exactly?”

“Danny—” She stood up, yelped, and immediately fell back to the bed.

“What happened?” He pointed at her very obviously bandaged foot.

“I fell.”

Danny looked unimpressed. He raised one eyebrow. “And it hasn’t healed?”

“It’s a long story.” Jazz sighed, turned towards Jason. “He is—”

“You know what? I’m not awake enough for this.” The brother interrupted, raising his arms to make a statement. “See you downstairs.”

With that, Danny stomped towards the bedroom door, walked outside and stomped down the hallways without caring about closing the door behind him.

A few tense seconds passed.

“Charming.”

Jazz huffed. “He’s not usually that cranky.” She stretched her arms over her head, sighing. “I guess it’s time to face the music.”

Jason nodded and told her to wait on the bed as he got dressed again.

Weird. Last night he felt like his skin was going to burst when he got undressed, waiting for Jazz to come out of the bathroom. Maybe it was the conversation they had, or maybe it was how easy things became when Jazz was with him; but right then he couldn’t see how sharing a bed with her managed to make him so nervous. It felt silly and childish to care about something like that, especially when he had been intimate with people before.

Jazz felt different. Like he had more to lose. He already had decided he would do and would be whatever she needed and if that meant not ever sleeping together he was ready to accept it.

He knew the conversation wasn’t over regarding the topic, and he had a million more questions, but they could wait for when they weren’t about to walk down for breakfast in his childhood home.

Once he was ready, he picked Jazz up in his arms like the previous night, enjoying her red cheeks and sneaking kisses just because he could.

She mostly stayed put, but right before he made the turn towards the kitchen, she grabbed his head and pulled him down for a deeper kiss, her tongue teasing his lips briefly before she let him go.

“Whatever happens,” she whispered, “please remember I'm the same person.”

Huh. Ominous.

The kitchen was the same as it always was — Alfred's personal haven, where he only allowed the worthy to enter or even assist with cooking.

Right then, the old man watched, entranced, as Danny made wide gestures and huffed and paced around the enormous kitchen, one of Tim's gigantic coffee cups in hand.

“ — and I told him he could shove it where the sun doesn’t shine!” Danny took a sip of the coffee. He looked stressed and not really aware of his surroundings. He probably just picked a cup and got absorbed into his monologue. “But guess what, there’s no sun in the Realms! So he just looked at me like I was an idiot!”

Alfred hummed, a smile teasing his lips.

“I know right?” Danny grumbled, looking at his cup. “Hey do you have a refill, Mr… oh crap I forgot to ask for your name.”

“Alfred Pennyworth, mister.”

“Alfred.” The young man nodded enthusiastically. “Very british. I’ll remember that.”

Someone snorted, coming in from behind Jazz and Jason frozen at the door. This made Danny turn towards his new audience, grimacing when he saw his sister in Jason’s arms.

“You!” He shouted, pointing a finger at his sister.

“Me.” She answered, letting Jason place her on one of the stools at the big kitchen island.

Danny stomped towards the other side of the island.

“You!” He growled. “Don’t you ever do this to me again!” He slammed the empty coffee cup on the marble surface. Miraculously the porcelain didn’t even crack. “I thought another crazy billionaire had kidnapped you to make you fight me to the death, and I find you canoodling with this— this— this guy!!”

Jason didn’t even take offense. The display was entertaining enough. Also, what was that about “another” crazy billionaire kidnapping Jazz? To fight to the death?

“Hello Danny.” Jazz said calmly. “As I was trying to tell you before, this is Jason,” she made a gesture towards him, but didn’t tear her eyes from her brother, “and he’s my boyfriend.”

The younger man’s face went through the five stages of grief in a matter of seconds. His eyes flashed green for a moment, before he closed them and swallowed. When he opened them again, he was glaring at Jason instead.

“Jazz.”

“Yeah?” She answered, giving her thanks to Alfred when he placed a fresh cup in front of her.

Jason accepted his own cup, vaguely registering Dick taking a seat next to him. Or Bruce choosing to become as invisible as he could and shuffle around the kitchen toward where Alfred observed the showdown from a safe distance.

“Jasmine.”

“Daniel.” She sipped her cup, grimacing a bit. She wasn’t a huge fan of coffee. “Hey, did you bring my medicine?”

Still glaring, he reached inside his chest, casually pulling out a little white box. There was something made of glass inside clinking when he slid it across the island for Jazz to catch. When she opened it, six fresh vials of Lazarus Waters glowed inside.

“Six?” She noticed. “They look really good.”

“Had a good batch this time.” He nodded, his glare losing intensity under the praise. But immediately glared at Jason again as if remembering he was supposed to be mad. “And don’t change the topic.”

“What topic?” Jazz ignored her brother while she picked one of the vials, uncorked it and poured the contents in her cup.

Jason crossed stares with Bruce, speechless as both watched Jazz drink the whole thing in one go. She made a face.

“It’s better with tea.”

“Oh don’t you start.”

“Start what?” She winced. Her eyes started glowing a bright green. She looked in pain for a moment, but as quickly as it came, it was gone.

“Jazz.”

“Danny.” She checked her cup was empty, turning it upside down over her waiting open mouth. A few drops fell on her tongue.

The younger brother slammed his hands on the marble. “Stop ignoring me!” He complained. “And explain yourself. What’s with Mr Muscles over there? What the hell have you been doing?”

Jazz softly placed the cup on the island. She folded her hands, and finally looked at her brother. “I told you. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Jazzy, Jazzy, we talked about this,” Danny grabbed his hair in despair. “You have terrible taste in men.”

“Excuse me?”

“Is this going to be like Johnny? Is that it? A bad boy with a motorcycle and leather jacket makes eyes at you and that’s all it takes?” Danny glanced at Jason. “No offense.”

“None taken.” He wasn’t sure he was supposed to speak, but did anyway. Danny was hilarious.

Dick choked on his coffee.

“He’s not like Johnny.” Jazz defended herself. “Jason is—”

“Or maybe like the other one?” Danny interrupted. “What’s-his-name— David! Yeah. Is this a repeat of that one?”

It was Jazz’s time to slam her hands on the marble. “He is not like him!”

Danny bristled, a soft hissing sound blooming in his throat. “Are you sure? Because that one— what was the report? Dislocated shoulder and a shattered hand?”

“I told you I didn’t need your help!” Jazz bristled as well, exposing her fangs in an angry hiss. “And he is not the same!”

“That’s what you said the last time!!” Somehow Danny became taller. Was he floating? His pitch black hair moved like hit by an invisible breeze, too. “No offense.”

Jason didn’t know if he should laugh or intervene. “None taken.” He assured again, controlling his smile.

“And you the one to talk?!” Jazz’s hands tensed. “Should we talk about your horrible taste in women? Huh?”

“Don’t you—!”

“Paulina!”

“It was in highschool!” Danny growled. “What are you—”

“Valerie!” She growled back. The sound wasn’t animalistic, but still not quite human. Jason had never heard something like that, even less coming from the chest of his sweet girlfriend.

“What about her!”

“She tried to kill you!”

“But she never succeeded!” Danny bared his fangs. “And we are cool now!”

What was even happening?

“Sam!”

“Hey!”

“She killed you!” Jazz’s hair started to float, too, right the moment her eyes glowed green again. “Twice!”

That was apparently going too far. Danny’s growl escalated to a full on roar, his body now floating closer to the ceiling. They could see his tapered ears and sharp fangs on full display.

Jazz glared at him from her seat, her hair rising and falling on beat with her heavy breathing; fangs bared and clawed hands raised, ready to fight her own brother. She opened her arms and exposed her chest, making Jason wonder what was about to happen.

In a blink of an eye, all hostility was gone from Danny as he floated towards his sister faster than the human eye could follow — one moment he was on the other side of the island and close to the tall ceiling, and the next he was hugging his sister like his life depended on it.

“I missed you.” His voice was choked and muffled, but the emotion in it was obvious.

“I know.” Jazz circled her arms around Danny like it was the most natural thing in the world. She pressed him tight against her body, her head on top of his, rubbing her cheek against his hair. “I missed you too.”

Everyone held their breaths, waiting to see what Danny would say, but the young man was out cold. Soft snores resonated in the otherwise silent kitchen.

Jazz cleared her throat. Her smile was radiant and warm, like they usually were, as she turned to look at Jason. “Can I put him in your room? He will probably nap for a few more hours.”

Dazzled, Jason just nodded and watched as she hopped down the stool on her — previously — injured ankle and quickly made her exit from the kitchen while easily carrying her brother.

Bruce cleared his throat when they stopped hearing her soft steps. “So…”

“Yeah.” Jason licked his lips and decided to take a sip of his own cup of coffee. It was lukewarm. “That’s, uh... That’s her brother.”

He looked down to where Jazz slammed her hands, finding a crack on the marble. It wasn’t enough to compromise the structure, but it wasn’t small either.

Choosing not to bring attention to that fact, he just sipped his coffee and ignored the barrage of questions from the others. It wasn’t like he knew the answers anyway.

---

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#hardcover ship #jazz x jason #dpxdc #anger management ship #jazz/jason #dp x dc #dc x dp #batpham #friendly neighborhood vigilante #neighbors au

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 19

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

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Bruce watched them giggle, her face red, as both probably remembered something that happened between them. He didn’t know what they were talking about — there was so much he didn’t know about them, or about Jason — but it was grounding how easy she talked about… about Red Hood, with the same love in her eyes that she reserved for Jason.

He felt so stupid for thinking that Jasmine wanted to harm his son. He would still observe, of course, just in case; but he knew acting and he knew that Jasmine was not putting up an act when she smiled back at Jason’s grin.

“How did you two meet?”

Jazz didn’t acknowledge when the others got quiet and looked at him. “I think a few weeks after I moved in. We ran into each other in the elevator.”

“Ah yes. I remember thinking you were weird.”

“Hey.”

“I mean— an outsider moving so close to Crime Alley? I was half convinced you’d be killed in a week.”

Jasmine huffed, playfully slapping her boyfriend’s arm. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know that now, but when you told me you worked at Arkham I—”

“You said, and I quote, ‘And you are still alive?’”

“You work at Arkham?” Bernard jumped where he was sitting next to Tim on the other sofa. “Wha— How?”

Jason made a gesture like “see? I’m not the only one”, the smirk not leaving his lips. Bruce couldn’t remember the last time he saw him smile so much.

“I came to Gotham because I saw they had an opening. Well, it doesn’t surprise me now that I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Everyone ends up dead or quits their job in that place.” She shook her head in, a slight frown on her face.

“Then why haven’t you? Quit, I mean.”

She thought about her answer for a moment. Bruce leaned in, interested in what she was going to say. He remembered her application explaining her interest in Gotham’s rogues and how they came to be.

“Many things? I always wanted to work in the mental health field,” she looked down, sighing, “not necessarily criminal psychology, but since this job was close to what I do back in the Infinite Realms I thought I could learn something new.”

Close to what she did? What was her role in this Team Phantom she mentioned?

“Also,” she continued, “Gotham’s rogues kind of grow on you? Some of them just need a healthier outlet, or to be dedicated an amount of time that nobody is willing to do in Arkham. Because of course they don’t,” she rolled her eyes, making a vague gesture with her hand, “since high management is more focused on embezzling donations and trying to get their foot into the Mob business.”

The others, who had heard her mention that when Bruce went to Jason’s apartment the previous day, leaned in at the new information.

“She has powerpoints.” Jason crossed his arms. “And a hit list.”

“Is not a hit list.” Jasmine quickly clarified. “I don’t have proof, yet, but I will. At this point I just want to see Dylan’s career ruined out of spite.”

“He hates you with passion.” Bruce observed, remembering the disdain and thinly veiled hatred Dylan had towards Jasmine. He had been obviously trying to convince him she was a maladapted naïve young girl that was going to get herself killed. “I think he actually wants you dead.”

Jasmine scoffed. “If he wants me dead that much he has to do it himself.”

It was like a mirage — the way she crossed her arms, the raised eyebrow, the daring smile. Was she so much like Jason or was it something she unconsciously copied from him?

Either way, it was actually very cute.

“And the rogues haven't tried to kill you?”

She turned to look at Duke, shrugging. “No yet? I know some of them dislike me, but in general they tolerate me just fine. I think they are waiting to see me snap, or at least Edward said so.”

“Riddler?”

“Yeah. He has this interesting —” she made a face, indicating that wasn’t exactly the word she was thinking “ — way of displaying affection. Last Friday, when the breakout happened, he was the one who told me to be prepared with a ‘I’d hate to see your brains splattered on the wall, doc’.”

“So he knew beforehand and told you? And you didn’t stop him?”

Several looked at him, a warning in their eyes. Bruce backpedaled quickly, relaxing his shoulders on purpose.

“Part of my job in Arkham is gaining their trust. Treating them like people helps, some lower their guard once they see I’m not afraid of them, others are all about their secrets. Secrets are expensive in Arkham,” Jasmine’s eyes were cold and her body language collected, “Ed risked a lot just by telling me. If it was known that Riddler is a snitch then he would be out of the market. Is a delicate game.”

Duke was nodding along in agreement. Jason was still glaring at Bruce.

“And what if any of them turn on you? You can’t trust them.”

He knew he sounded paranoid, but he had tried to help them before. He had tried to invest that time and that effort Jasmine was talking about into helping them instead of just tossing them back to Arkham, but it was the same story over and over again — they could change and be better, but circumstances always brought them back in an endless cycle not unlike his own.

“I can take care of myself.”

Before anybody could stop him, Damian threw something at Jasmine. It was fast, and when they heard her loud gasp Bruce was completely ready to rush for the first aid kit in the nearby bathroom.

“That was not nice, kid.”

Damian huffed. “Not a kid.”

Bruce watched, mesmerized, how Jasmine yanked a pocket knife from the back of the sofa right where her head would have been if she didn’t somehow dodge it in time.

“Oh hey, it’s Jason’s knife! I thought I had lost it.”

She held the pocket knife like it was the most precious thing in the world, closing it with care. She said it was Jason’s?

“Tt, how careless about your weapons can you be? Took it as evidence after you threw it at me.”

“Ohhh, right. Sorry about that. I was kinda running on adrenaline back then.”

“How did you move so fast?”

Jasmine shrugged at Bernard. “At the house where I grew up, the first thing you learn is how to dodge fast.” She put the knife in her pants pocket. “And the second is how to kill before you are killed.”

To his credit, Damian looked impressed for a second. It was refreshing next to the worried glances of everyone else.

“What do you mean?” He had to ask, concerned.

No one missed how she took Jason’s hand in hers.

“I assume everyone heard us? Last Tuesday.”

Bruce remembered feeling righteous hot rage as he took her to the Diner. Her panicked face when she saw the documents. Her voice shaking as she begged Jason to believe her.

“Yes.” He swallowed the discomfort.

If Jasmine was hurt by what happened, she didn’t show. “My parents were… neglectful. There is no way around the sobbing backstory,” she chuckled, “but even if their lack of lab security has made us what we are today, my brother and I were raised in a hostile environment.

“They mixed samples with food, storing them in the same fridge. They worked on dangerous machinery in the kitchen and living room. They left children unsupervised in a lab full of chemicals and sharp objects.”

She was glaring at her own hands as she kept talking. “As you know, ectoplasm can bring things back to life. Even food.”

“Food?” Tim didn’t look convinced.

“I learned how to fight by re-killing the Thanksgiving turkey every year. And dinner.” She added after considering. “So many dinners.”

Stephanie was the first one to start laughing. Tim and Bernard followed, and soon everyone was chuckling at the absurd picture her words painted.

Bruce wasn’t laughing, though. It wasn’t as bad as the insanity they were used to, no murder cults or sadistics fathers, but still not something that sat well in Bruce’s mind. What kind of childhood did she and her brother have when they weren’t safe in their own house?

“Of course after the portal and with how things escalated it was less about survival and more about fighting to subdue and capture ghosts.”

“Not killing them?” Cass asked.

Jazz was shaking her head. “Back then all that came through the portal were troublemakers and supervillain wannabes. Later on we learned that a lot of them were testing Danny and more like training him in his new powers. We only captured and threw them back into the portal.” She sighed. “It wasn’t until we got more involved in the Realms and saw that there was so much more going on, that it was a whole dimension with complex societies and power structures, that we understood that to have actual peace the task wasn’t as simple as it looked like.”

Cass blinked, not wasting a second to ask. “Can ghosts be killed?”

Jasmine’s posture became tense. “Yes. Liminals, ghosts and— and other beings in the Realms. Is less about death and more about… ceasing to exist.”

They knew there was more going on with that statement. Was Jasmine some kind of executioner? Was that why she was so tense?

Bruce wasn’t sure how to feel about that. There was so much he didn’t know about her, about her life, about the Infinite Realms. There was a whole dimension with people, and some of those wished to cross over and do harm. Others had committed their life to protect a balance he didn’t know existed, probably paying some kind of price.

He wanted to ask so many things — what was her role in the Team? Who was she? Any event the Justice League should know about? How did their society work? What does the Underworld look like?

But he couldn’t ask that.

Not yet.

“What is your hometown like?”

Jasmine looked at him with relief in her teal eyes. He had said the right thing for once.

“Amity Park, the most haunted town in America. Or ‘a nice place to live’, as the sign says,” she smiled. “Is very different from Gotham. It’s sunny, for starters,” there were a few chuckles, “and it has always been a weird town. The Veil is thinner there, more than Gotham, and it has never been out of place to have ghostly encounters there.”

“So what? The dead walk among the living?”

She nodded at Dick. “Pretty much, yeah. ‘Dead but not gone’, we always say. After the portal ripped a door between dimensions there is so much ectoplasm around that almost everything that dies comes back soon after.”

“And Gotham? You said the Veil is thin here too.”

“Gotham is, uh, weird? The Veil is thin here, but there is so little ambient ectoplasm. Ghosts here are not as strong as they are in Amity Park, but there are so many ghosts everywhere anyway. As stubborn in death as they are in life, I guess.”

There was certain pride blooming in Bruce’s chest at her words, even as his mind latched on to the fact that the dead in Gotham tended to come back to life. Made him wonder how many people he knew had become ghosts.

Were his parents still around? Were they watching him, the man he had become? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what they would say to him if he met them now.

If he asked Jasmine would she help him? He had messed up things with her, he knew, but she was an easy and close way to answer those questions.

No. Not yet.

“You said the Manor is haunted?”

Jasmine chuckled. “Very! I was unsure if I would need to set up wards here but I think your ancestors have it covered. Nothing will enter here if they don’t wish to.”

Bruce didn’t miss how she could enter the house. His family accepted her, approved of her. Or maybe it was because she was influential?

“So if you could enter it means they like you?” Dick voiced his thoughts.

“Or has it something to do with you being a supernatural influencer?” Steph leaned in.

“What are you, by the way?” Tim had a certain glint in his eyes, like he did when he had a new mystery to solve.

Jasmine blinked at the quick questions, overwhelmed, opening her mouth.

“I remember certain agreement that tonight was not supposed to derive into an interrogation.” Alfred interrupted her from the door. She smiled at him. “Also, dinner is ready.”

Bruce watched as all his kids stood up and walked out of the room, his eyes stuck on how casually Jason entwined his hand with Jazz’s after he helped her stand up, how his eyes were soft on the edges when he looked at her.

She was talking with Steph about something, Bruce caught a few words but he wasn’t big on social media and it sounded like some kind of Twitter scandal. Jazz laughed at something Steph said. Jason smiled a little too, adding his own opinion.

“It's amazing, right?”

Bruce turned towards his eldest. “I didn’t know he could make that expression.”

“There is something about her,” Dick shook his head, “I don’t know how to describe it.”

Yeah. Bruce knew what he meant — there was a certain edge about her, something clearly made different. Even if he didn’t know what he knew about her now, he understood that she would not pass as a normal civilian like Bernard did, for example.

Jasmine was someone that could understand their world, and yet, she was not a hardened warrior. She showed softness and kindness even when thrown a knife to her face. She loved Jason and wasn’t afraid to show it. She still smiled even after all the things she went through.

It took a certain amount of bravery to be like that. To still care after… after everything.

Jason needed someone like her in his life.

Bruce cared about him, he loved him so much, but he didn't get the same results when they interacted — Bruce was so unsure about every word, every move, and in the end he made it worse in every interaction. He had stopped trying, but maybe that had been a bad call on his part.

He would observe them and try to understand how they made it look so easy.

***

“I actually don’t mind an interrogation.” Jazz was the first to speak as they all sat down.

“Don’t.” Jason frowned at her. “They don’t know how to stop.”

“Bold of you to assume I don’t have my own questions.”

They grinned at each other, remembering a conversation a long time ago, where she said she wanted to study the bats like a bug.

“Have a little bit of faith, Little Wing,” Dick said from where he was sitting next to Bruce.

“Faith? In you?” Jason glared at his brother.

Jazz gently put a hand on his, turning to look at Dick. “About your question, and the following ones— Yes, permission to enter is a big thing for ghosts. Especially a haunt. Gotham is… hm,” she looked up to thank Alfred when he passed by with her food, “thanks. Anyway, a haunt is a territory that belongs to a ghost. The more powerful the ghost, the bigger the haunt. They can share the haunt with weaker ghosts that cannot maintain a haunt, for mutual protection, but at the end of the day the more powerful one calls the shots.

“Gotham, the city, is a giant haunt that belongs to one Spirit. Without her approval nothing goes in. Or out.”

There were raised eyebrows at her words, but Jazz kept talking, making wide gestures with her hands.

“There are highly charged places, like this Manor, where a bunch of ghosts would congregate and have a mini-haunt inside Gotham, if the Spirit allows it. Arkham is another, for example. That one is a bit more cursed, though.”

Figures.

“And this… Spirit,” the word was pronounced slowly, like Bruce was trying to get used to it, “controls the city?”

“Gotham, the Spirit, is… old.” She made a face. “She may have been powerful, very powerful, once upon a time; but with all the magic cults and the pollution and the, well, situation of the city, she’s not what she was. She won’t die, yet, but Danny still wishes to help her despite our differences.” She sighed. “It’s in the list of stuff to do, which grows by the day.”

There was a beat of silence as they processed her words. Jazz looked around nervously, distracting herself by pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

Cass, who was sitting on Jazz’s other side, didn’t miss how her ear was slightly pointed.

“Eat.”

Alfred manifested besides Bruce, glaring at him until he picked up a fork and shoved potato salad in his mouth. Then he nodded and left. Bruce swallowed and cleared his throat.

“So the city is dying because of us?”

Several of his children glanced at him, expecting the usual spiral about the sins of the father, yadda yadda.

“Hmmm, is it more like a feedback loop at this point? Gotham cannot deal with the stuff sapping her energy, not anymore, and those bad influences on the citizens create a constant stream of crime and evil that tire her out.”

“So if the Spirit is cured then all crime will disappear?” Tim frowned, disbelieving.

Jazz was already shaking her head before he ended his question. “No. People’s choices cannot be controlled, just influenced. Gotham’s ghosts are not powerful enough for possession, just nudging minds here and there. Whispers here and there. If Gotham were at full power and she could catch all of the troublemakers, it wouldn’t completely erase humans’ ability to do good or bad. Is still their choice.”

She paused for a moment to try the potato salad, chewed and swallowed.

“She’s very fond of you guys. Protective.” This raised a few eyebrows and a big smile from Cass and Dick. “She actually threatened us to not even think of touching any of you or she would throw hands.”

“I mean—” Whatever Tim was going to say with a big smirk and raised eyebrows was lost when Bernard elbowed him so hard he doubled over. “Betrayal.” He wheezed.

“Could you win against her in a fight?” Steph’s eyes were shiny at the prospect of Jazz fist fighting the freaking city to gain Jason’s hand in marriage.

“I don’t think so,” Jazz tilted her head. “I’m very rusty and she is an old city. She may not be what she once was, but she wins just by experience alone.”

“Bummer.”

Jazz shrugged. “Believe it or not, I had no intention of fighting anybody when I moved here.”

“Could have fooled me,” Jason deadpanned, chewing. When he swallowed, he added. “I’ve never seen anybody choose violence as fast as you do.”

Jazz blushed, pointing her fork at him like she was going to stab him with it. “I take that personally, mister ‘this is my territory and I’ll kill you if you trespass’.” She imitated his voice, mocking even the modulated effect.

“You are the one to talk!” It was his time to blush. “You were going to kick me out! In front of Timmy!”

“He was hurt, I couldn’t let you start a pointless fight in my apartment.”

“Oh I remember this one.” Bernard chuckled. “Tim ripped two of the stitches because he insisted he was good enough to continue.”

“Of course,” Jazz scoffed at the crimefighter. “How long did it take? Ten minutes?”

“Fifteen.”

“Yeah, figures.” She shook her head in disapproval, which Bernard imitated. “Resting is a big part of the healing process.”

“THANK YOU!” Bernard’s face illuminated, leaning over the table to take Jazz’s hand. “Finally! Someone with common sense!”

“I guess you have had to do the same speech—”

“Plenty of times, yeah,” he chuckled. “I’m actually an EMT. Decided to go that career after dumb dumb over here came bleeding to my apartment one too many times.”

Jazz nodded in understanding. Bernard nodded in understanding.

Tim and Jason looked at each other, realizing at the same time that letting these two meet had been a bad idea.

Dick chuckled nervously, his mind going to a recent time Jason had been bleeding to death in Jazz’s apartment. He decided to change topics, and fast.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “you said you figured out Jay’s identity, how did that happen?”

Jazz hummed, cutting a bit of her steak and chewing it as she thought her answer. “I mean,” she started when she swallowed, “there was the obvious, but circumstantial, stuff. Unexplained income. Odd hours. Too many coincidences. Jason not knowing how to properly hide his stuff—”

“I am not—”

“ — but what was solid proof was his blood.”

Jason, who wanted to protest her obvious jab at his person, froze mid sentence.

Duke choked on his salad. Bruce almost choked with his water.

Jazz froze too, slowly looking up from her hands cutting another piece of steak. She looked at Jason with a nervous smile.

“Forgot to tell you about the blood thing, huh?”

---

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#jazz x jason #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz/jason #dp x dc #dc x dp #batpham #dpxdc #friendly neighborhood vigilante #neighbors au

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 18

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

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“Are you still mad at me?”

Jason sighed. “I’m not mad.”

She didn’t like his answer, but contained herself. Like she did all the thousand times in the last hour.

“I promise I’m not mad.”

Her eyes were deep turquoise pools without end. He usually didn’t feel analyzed when she looked at him, she was very firm on never using her skills on him despite joking about not being a good doctor; but now he could almost feel her poke around in his head. He didn’t like it.

“I was mad, but I‘m not anymore. Promise.”

She liked that answer even less than the other one. “I’m sorry.”

She was being honest. Like she had been the first thousand times she apologized.

It wasn’t about being sorry or being mad with her. It was just—

“I shouldn’t have said yes without asking.”

He stopped walking, took a deep breath and turned to look at his girlfriend. She was twisting the hem of her blouse, her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyebrows furrowed. He had no doubt that Jazz was sorry about making that deal with Bruce the previous day, but it didn’t mean that her actions didn’t hurt.

He ignored the pinch in his chest.

Jazz was not like his family, he tried to remind himself once more. She didn’t act because she thought she knew what he wanted better than him, or because she was so sure she was in the right that she wouldn’t waste time asking him if he agreed.

The moment Bruce was out of that window she looked at him with wide eyes. “I fucked up,” she had said without hesitation, throwing him off the spiraling thoughts of betrayal.

How he was feeling was probably written in his face, he had no doubt. Sure, the Pit wasn’t clouding his thoughts — and it hasn’t done so in a while, not even when he thought that Jazz had used him as a guinea pig with the Lazarus Waters — but even with a clear head he was still not okay.

They had talked. For hours.

Figures that his first real argument with his girlfriend would be Bruce’s fault — he was not counting the whole drama of that week as a “couple’s argument".

Jazz's usual ramblings, which in any other situation would be endearing, was then grating to his ears. Excuse after excuse, she kept explaining, or trying to, that she thought he needed to go to that dinner. That his problems with Bruce, while valid, shouldn’t deny him a relationship with the others. That she would be there and could act as a shield—

He had to stop her right there.

It was an awful lot of assumptions, he told her. She didn’t even know about his past, he growled.

That made her stop. “You are right, I don’t. I wish to know, when you want to tell me. I want to know everything about you.” She finally looked him in the eyes properly. “But I still think that deep inside you want to go to the dinner.”

He wanted to go. He wanted to see Alfred and see his second childhood home (the nicer one) and meet the new people in the family.

She knew he wanted to go, because she was one of the few people in the world that could see past his tough guy exterior and actually made an effort to see what was inside.

Still, he would like it if next time, his girlfriend didn’t make a decision for him. He told her so and the argument ended in a better tone, with a hug and soft kiss goodnight.

Why was Jazz insisting again, you ask?

“You shouldn’t have, no. But you apologized and I think I’ve told you to not apologize if nobody was hurt. I’m fine. Shall we go to that damn dinner?” He gestured towards the elevator, and of course Jazz didn’t move.

She stopped biting her lip, but her hands kept torturing the hem of her blouse.

“You don’t look fine.”

Okay. Not only were they going to that stupid dinner because of her, but they were going to be late because of her as well.

He sighed, rubbing his face.

“Well I’m perfectly okay. Can we please get moving?”

Jazz frowned, like he just kicked a puppy or something.

“Danny always—”

“Well I’m not Danny!”

The silence was only broken by the echo of his shout in the empty hallway. It was only then that he noticed he was breathing heavily.

Jason stopped, straightened his back and took a deep breath. Only then he looked back at Jazz, finding those hurt eyes that he had only seen back at his other safehouse, when he accused her of so many horrible things.

The image of a bruised wrist passed behind his eyes.

He was not his father. Either of them.

“Listen—”

“I’m—”

Both stopped talking, looking at each other in a tense silence.

When she didn’t say anything else, he continued. “I’m not your brother, Jazz. I understand that you feel sorry and I understand why you jumped like that. Yes, I’m upset, but I just— I don’t need a talk about feelings right now, ok?”

She processed his words for a moment.

“You need time.” It wasn’t a question.

“I— Yes.”

She tilted her head. “Time away from ‘us’?”

“What? No!” What the actual fuck? “No, I just got you back, why would I want to be apart from you?”

Jazz’s cheeks tinted a bit red just as she looked down at her hands, finally letting go of the piece of clothing.

“Just wanted to check,” she said with a small shrug, still looking down. “Didn’t want to assume things.”

This made him chuckle.

“You are silly.”

At least she was smiling when she looked up at him. “Can I hug you?”

Instead of an answer, Jason walked towards her and pulled her into his chest, easily circling his arms around her body. It was comfortable and it felt right, having her so close. He kissed the top of her head, breathing in her shampoo.

“We cool?” She asked against his chest.

He nodded, even if she wouldn’t be able to see it. “We cool.”

By the time they got to the bike, all the bad feelings had been replaced with tender kisses. Jazz offered to bail on the dinner and blame it on her if necessary, but at that point Jason was so fed up with the stupid dinner he wanted to go out of spite.

The ride was uneventful, Jazz’s long dress pants and heeled sandals weren’t a problem to ride a motorbike.

They made the trip to the Manor in silence, Jason’s mind disconnected from the motions as familiar landscape passed by them at high speed. It has been a while since he climbed the hills towards Bristol, but he couldn’t remember if the last time was when he brought that first edition to Alfred so he knew he was alive, or if there was a more recent instance.

In any case, the familiar shape of Wayne Manor was impossible to miss, nor were the empty roads that were far from civilization and the common people living in the rest of the city.

Jason expected to feel rage, to feel dread, to feel the painful anticipation before facing something that you really don’t want to experience — but as troubling thoughts started to plague his mind, he felt strong but gentle arms tighten around his waist, not giving the thoughts enough time to settle in his mind.

That’s right, he wasn’t alone. He didn’t need to face things alone. Not anymore.

The silence was broken as he parked close to the door and both got out of the vehicle.

“It’s… big.”

He snorted at her comment. “Don’t let the opulence get to you.”

Jazz hummed in thought. “Oh it doesn’t. Is not my first time in a mansion this big.” She turned to look at him with a little smile. “I haven’t told you about the time we lived in a mansion?”

He chuckled as he stored the helmets away. “Sounds like a fun story. Wanna share with the class?”

Her eyes glazed over for a moment, and he knew she was considering if she needed to lie to him. It didn’t hurt that much, especially not now that he knew why she needed to measure her words.

“The GIW paid my parents an absurd amount of money in exchange of our house and all the ghost hunting technology. Danny was thrilled, of course, since he always wanted to be rich. We had our own butler and everything.” She sighed dramatically. “It ended quickly when Danny found out that what the GIW truly wanted was access to the portal to nuke the Ghost Zone. He barely stopped them in time and the day was saved once again.”

“Nuke the Ghost Zone?” He asked as they started walking towards the Manor. “Sounds dangerous.”

“Very. The Ghost Zone, or the Infinite Realms, are like… what was the word?” Jazz thought about it for a moment, one finger on her lips with smudged pale pink lipstick. Which reminded him to check that he didn’t have lipstick stains on his face. He would never live that down. “It is like… a mirror dimension of this one! Yes, that was the thing. Anyway, if that one is destroyed, this one goes as well.”

He lifted an eyebrow, stopping right at the front door. “You guys have dealt with crazy stuff, haven't you?”

Her smile was tired. “You have no idea.”

There was more she wanted to say, but both knew it wasn’t the moment or the place. There was so much pain, so many secrets, in her teal eyes that he wondered how he hadn’t noticed before. Had she been hiding all of that from him? Of course she had, she was good and hiding and lying. Jazz was burdened by secrets that weren’t her own and a past she couldn’t share.

Once again she reminded him so much of Dick, and how his brother was all smiles and circus tricks to distract you from the pain Jason could see in his eyes when Dick thought nobody was looking. He knew there were things his brother wasn’t telling him, and he never pressed. Everybody had their secrets. Even him. Even his girlfriend.

But, unlike with his brother, Jason wanted to know those secrets — not to make sure she was not a supervillain, but because he wanted to carry that burden with her. It hurt to see her in pain. He wanted to take away her sorrows so she didn’t have to look like this.

Jason cupped her face with one hand, for once not worrying about his calloused palm being rough on her soft skin. She leaned into the touch.

He put his other hand on her waist, leaning in for a last kiss. She eagerly placed her hands on his chest, responding to the kiss with a little smile against his lips. He felt her sigh and melt into his arms, all worrying thoughts escaping her mind this time.

He may not be able to take away all her sorrows, but he was happy to distract her from them for the moment.

When they parted, he saw a curtain quickly be closed in a nearby window.

He sighed, knowing that it was showtime.

“Ready?”

At her nod, he rang the bell.

Of course, the door was opened immediately. Alfred had been waiting behind the closed door, with half the family standing there, trying to not make it obvious they've been eavesdropping.

“Welcome,” the butler said with a smile. Jason answered with one of his own, happy to see the old man. “May I take your coats?”

Jazz hid her nervousness as she gave her denim jacket to the butler, softly introducing herself to him.

“Jason.”

He looked up, finding Bruce standing there with a stupid turtleneck and sensible jeans, selling the whole “dad” thing. He kept an open and non-aggressive stance, with a small smile. He even wore stupid superhero slippers.

“Bruce.”

Jazz came back to the tense silence, tapping him on the shoulder.

“Your jacket, dear?”

He looked away from Bruce and took off his jacket, deciding to not give it to the man to ruin this night for him and his girlfriend. Jazz deserved to have a good time, and he would not be the one that fucks this up for her.

“Jasmine—”

“Jazz is fine,” her smile was polite, although not as warm as the ones she gave him. “Thank you for inviting us.”

It was a charged sentence, of course, since Bruce never intended to actually personally invite anyone — he always sent Dick to mediate between them. And they only accepted to come after he fucked up so bad he had to make a deal to even start apologizing.

He knew. They knew. The others knew.

Jason snorted.

He loved his girlfriend to bits.

“So…”

Everyone turned to look at Dick, who was smiling in that specific way. The one where he was trying hard to become a distraction.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“She knows who you are.”

“Well, maybe she wants to have a more formal introduction, given the circumstances.”

“She is right here.”

Now everyone looked at Jazz, who didn’t seem amused at being talked over like she wasn’t there.

“Right. Okay.” Jason sighed dramatically and got ready for grating night. “Jazz, these are Dickolas, Timbit, and Bruce, who you have already met.” He vaguely made a gesture towards them. Tim was biting his lips, trying not to laugh. “This is Alfred,” he put a hand on his shoulder, smiling when the older man placed one of his gloved hands over his, “he taught me how to cook.”

Jazz’s eyes widened when she made the connection — right, he had scarcely talked about his childhood that dinner when they kissed for the first time.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Alfred said with a slight bow.

She answered with one of her own. “The pleasure is all mine. Jason has talked a lot about you.”

He hadn’t, right? Now he couldn’t remember exactly how much he had told her.

To hide his blush, he continued. “And this is Cass.” He pointed at the silent and observant figure of Cassandra next to Bruce. “She is—”

“Black Bat.”

Cass smiled broadly at Jazz’s words, nodding and approaching her to sneak her arms around her before anybody could stop her. She pet Jazz’s long red hair a few times before letting her go.

“Welcome.” She said.

Jazz blinked in confusion for a moment before smiling back.

“Thanks!”

Both smiled at each other for a few moments, his girlfriend’s shoulders finally relaxing. She was nervous, he knew, and she was hiding it well. Did Cass notice that as well?

She was some of the few he interacted less with, and he didn’t know her as much as the others. From his investigation he knew who she was and where she came from, what she was capable of and why she didn’t kill; but he had never seen her without her suit, or from this close. Black Bat was a shadow, barely seen but always there.

But Cassandra was all smiles when she took Jazz’s hand in hers and pulled her further into the house with a skip in her step, visibly excited to meet the new person.

“The others are in the living room.” Alfred answered Jason’s unasked question. “Dinner will be served in an hour.”

With that, he disappeared through a door and went probably to the kitchen to finish preparing everything.

Right.

Dinner.

“Everything alright?” Tim’s question brought him back to the group already walking away from him. He rushed to Jazz’s side.

“Uh?” Jazz’s attention snapped back to Tim, her eyes had been fixed on a corner in the ceiling. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

Tim glanced at Jason with a slight frown, silently asking if he knew what’s up. “You seem distracted.”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence and Jazz was already looking away, this time up the giant stairs that went to the east and west wings of the Manor. Her eyes on the door toward the East Wing, the Family Wing.

“Darling?” Jason gently touched her side.

“I’m…” Her eyes moved with intention, like they were following something running down the stairways and towards the hallway to the left. “Is just…”

When her eyes started to water, Jason pulled on her arm and made her stop. Something was up, he was sure of it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I…” with her free hand she wiped the tears away. “It’s— This house has belonged to the family for generations, right?”

Everyone looked at Bruce, who tilted his head. “Yes. Why is that important?”

Ah, Bruce. Always demanding.

“Well, huh.” She sighed, wiping away more tears, careful to not smudge her eyeliner too much. “There’s no easy way to say this but… The place is haunted.”

As she said it, she glanced behind Bruce, narrowing her eyes. There was nothing there, of course. Nothing except—

“Ghosts?”

“Yeah, that’s what haunted means.”

Dick rolled his eyes at the answer. “I mean, are there ghosts here?”

Jason didn’t miss Tim’s nervous look at Bruce, or how the man looked around, wary.

“There are ghosts everywhere in this damn city.” She chuckled. “But this place feels like�� You know when a cursed place feels wrong? Like you don’t need to know the backstory to know something bad happened there?”

Everyone tensed. Jazz wiped more tears.

“Well, this place is like that, but the opposite. So many lives, so many—” More tears flowed down her face, but she didn’t seem sad. She frowned like she was getting pretty annoyed. “Damn it!” She turned on her heels and glared at the empty stairs. “Yes, I can see you! And hear you! Stop making a show!”

Jason felt it. He didn’t know how, but he felt like something that was there had fled away at the woman’s words.

“Thank you!” She huffed, straightening her back and wiping her wet hands on the hem of her blouse. “So rude!” She shook her head in disbelief, finally turning back to them. “I’m sorry, what was I saying?”

Jason was the one that recovered first. Yes. His girlfriend could see ghosts. That was normal. Just one more thing to the list.

“What did you see?”

Did she see Bruce’s parents? They didn’t die in the Manor, but…

“I couldn’t say… Not every ghost maintains their form when they are created, and these didn’t.” She smiled, apologetic. “They were very chatty, though. I’m sorry.”

There was a moment of silence, broken when Tim clicked his tongue.

“Well, that’s surely something that happened.”

“Uh…”

“So my house is haunted?”

Jazz blinked. “You’ve never noticed? Have you never felt the protection magic around the house? Even mortals are capable of detecting ghost magic, especially as strong as this one is.”

Dick mouthed “ghost magic”, flabbergasted.

“No. I can’t say that I have.” Bruce answered slowly. “If I show you photos, could you identify the ghosts?”

Cass pulled the hand she was still holding and hugged Jazz close to her chest and away from Bruce. “No work talk.”

“Right, um,” he cleared his throat, suddenly very uncomfortable, “sorry about that. Tonight is supposed to be a normal family dinner.”

Jason wondered how many lectures he had gotten before they arrived. He still found it funny that his apology had been coached via comms — sad, but funny. It wasn’t surprising that the old man was incapable of offering an honest apology on his own.

They continued walking, Jazz now more present than before, offering casual explanations about what she was used to with ghosts, why she was crying — she laughed, saying that it was her body’s way of reacting to ghostly presence — and that she had been planning on setting up a protection spell but this was stronger than whatever she could do anyway.

Soon they were in the main living area, the voices of the others bouncing out of the door. Jason recognized the place — that’s where the gaming console was when he was little, and where Bruce usually sat to read with him after school and before patrol.

The memories weren’t as painful as he thought they would be. Sad, of course, given that those moments were from a life he couldn’t get back no matter how much he wished for it.

But the room wasn’t the same quiet haven he remembered. Someone was arguing loudly while someone else was laughing, and sounds coming from the TV, probably a video game, were blasting from speakers.

It was the same place, but at the same time it wasn’t.

Jazz didn’t draw attention to him when he picked her free hand and interlaced their fingers, she kept talking with Dick about something regarding her gymnastics class.

“Oh, hey!” Bernard, Tim’s boyfriend, was the first one that noticed them arrive. He stood up and walked towards Tim, extending his hand to shake Jazz’s. “Hello, I’m Bernard.”

She shook it, confused. “You are…?”

“Tim’s boyfriend.”

She finally made the connection, smiling. “Ah, I remember reading about you.”

“I hope not in those stupid tabloids.”

“That and when I looked up the Dyonysus cult.”

Bernard blushed deep red, quickly withdrawing his hand. “Listen—”

“Hey I’m not judging you. I wasn’t even looking for you,” she laughed. “I just did a research of all the occult stuff happening in Gotham before I moved here.”

“You must have been researching for weeks.” Blondie number two jumped over the sofa she was lounging on and shouldered Bernard out of the way. “Stephanie Brown.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jazz shook the offered hand. “Spoiler?” She asked for confirmation.

“Yup!” The woman beamed. “It’s so nice to have another girl around. Jason should have gotten braver and asked you out before.”

“Hey.”

Jazz looked uncomfortable for a second. “Things happen when they need to happen.” She looked at him, her eyes full of worry. “I— I haven’t told you yet, but I may have found out about you that night?”

This made him stop. “What?”

“Yeah.”

“And you still said yes?”

She blushed, looking away. “Yeah.”

He remembered her flirting back, how she blushed easier than usual, how she looked at him when he finally said the words. His speech had been pathetic and yet she had looked like he hung the moon and stars.

Had she known he was Red Hood then? And she said yes?

“You are weird.”

She chuckled, getting on the tip of her toes to kiss him on the cheek, the hand entwined with his squeezing for a second.

Someone clicked their tongue, the sound clearly displeased. Jazz jumped back to put a bit of space between them, suddenly very aware of their audience.

“Dami, be nice.” Dick said in a tired tone.

“I just don’t see what’s so interesting about her. Is a civilian who just happens to be involved in the supernatural.”

“She can see ghosts!”

“No way!” The last person to introduce themselves, Duke, stood up from where he had been sitting on the floor, leaving his controller aside. “You can see them too?”

“Ah, metahuman, right?” Jazz’s smile was wide. “Signal.”

“Yeah!”

“And you can see ghosts?”

“I can see… well, I call it ‘ghost vision’ but maybe it is not the same thing as you do,” he chuckled, quickly shaking her hand. “I can see auras and a bit on how they move in the past and in the future.”

“You can see the future???”

Aaaaand they lost her. Jazz’s eyes glowed with excitement, ditching Jason to follow Duke to the sofa and sit down to ask him a myriad of questions. She tried not to be too invasive, but he knew she would start asking about his childhood soon.

He sat down next to her, not acknowledging the others as they stood around either on the other sofas, the loveseat or on the floor. They were very obviously looking at him like he was an animal in a zoo, waiting, comparing.

This was exactly what sickened about coming to the Manor — they weren’t looking at him when he was there. Each had a mental image of “Jason Todd” and struggled to match it with the person he actually was. Or, in the case of Bruce, he was still trying to find the little boy that died.

The walls started to feel too narrow, the room too small for him, when he felt a soft touch on the back of his hand. He looked up, finding the smiling face of Jazz, his vision clearing around her.

“Right, Jay?”

He tried to mask his confusion. “About what.”

He saw the worry flash behind her eyes, but she quickly moved on. “About when I told you I saw your suit and I had to pretend I didn’t see anything.”

Oh right. When she drilled onto him about how to properly hide his stuff and how obvious he was.

“It’s not my fault you broke into a poor guy’s apartment late at night. You pervert.”

Her face went red immediately. “I— I didn’t—” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not the scoundrel that likes to break in through the window, like other people.”

“And whose fault is it? You refuse to get that damn lock.”

“I will do it when I do it!”

It was adorable how frustrated she got with the teasing. He couldn’t stop the smile that stretched his lips.

He didn’t care who was watching anymore, or if the others were trying to walk on eggshells around him. Jazz reminded him that it was okay to just be and he knew she would be in his corner if it came to it.

---

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#jazz x jason #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz/jason #dp x dc #dc x dp #batpham #friendly neighborhood vigilante #neighbors au #dpxdc

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 17

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

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“So… Can I offer anything? Tea? Orange juice? Tap water?” Jazz chuckled nervously, looking between the vigilantes awkwardly standing in her living room and her boyfriend standing on the other side, close to the door, glaring at them.

Red Robin glanced at her and smiled softly. “You have coffee?”

“I don’t, sorry. Don’t like the taste.”

“Then water is fine.”

Nightwing cleared his throat. “I’m fine with tea.”

“You don’t even like tea.” Jason growled. “Why are you here.”

“We wanted to apologize,” Nightwing lifted his hands, trying to look as harmless as possible. “To you and to Jasmine.”

“Jazz is fine.” She said, setting the kettle to start boiling water.

“Then apologize. And leave.”

“Gee, no need to get so territorial. Thanks,” Red Robin accepted the glass of water from her. “We wanted to explain, too. And maybe ask her a few questions.”

“But if you guys are busy we can come back in a few hours~” Nightwing smiled at Jason. “Or maybe tomorrow?”

“That’s it!”

Jason started marching towards the costumed vigilantes, knife in hand, but was stopped by Jazz as he passed by her. Her grip was like iron, Jason noticed, her muscles not straining at all to keep him from getting out of her grasp.

Was this how strong she really was?

Would she casually do displays of inhuman abilities like this now that he knew?

(He wanted her to, actually. He wanted to see it all.)

“Darling,” her voice was like honey as she took the knife from his hand, “no murdering anyone in my apartment.”

He didn’t answer, not trusting his voice to be normal after hearing the pet name coming from her lips again.

“You guys are the cutest thing ever.”

Both turned to look at the masked vigilante. Jason tried to subtly get out of her hand, but she didn’t budge. Impressive.

“I recommend you guys start talking. It’s kind of late and I have work tomorrow.”

Dick’s smile vanished, reminded why they were there. “We wanted to apologize,” he repeated, “What happened… it shouldn’t have happened.”

“Bruce didn’t have any right to go for you like he did.”

Amazing.

Even when Bruce fucks up so bad that he attracks the attention of potentially the next supervillain, he didn’t have the balls to come himself here to apologize.

Jazz hummed, finally letting him go. “It was bound to happen.”

Tim frowned. “What?”

“When I moved here I knew there was a possibility that Batman came after me, I was prepared for it.” She didn’t look happy, her eyes finding Jason’s for a second. Right. She never planned on dating anyone so probably she would have disappeared if she was found. “I had a plan B in case that happened.”

This was news to Jason. “Would you have run away?”

She nodded at him. “Back to the Infinite Realms until it blew off. And change identities and everything — we knew the bats are very thorough.”

What good it did now.

“And are you?”

“What?” Jazz turned back to face Dick, confused.

“Running away.” The man glanced at Jason, a slight tension in his smile. “Will you run away now?”

Jazz frowned. “I cannot leave now, even if I wanted to. The GIW will come and they will hurt anything that has a signature, even innocent ghosts. And, well, recent development has, uh,” she blushed when she glanced at Jason, and then looked away, “convinced me to stay.”

Dick squealed and picked her up to squeeze her against his chest, happily bouncing in place with Jazz in his arms.

“This is the best thing ever! I mean, not the whole clusterfuck, but aaaaa, I’m so happy you decided to stay!”

“Dick—”

The vigilante continued rambling even if the woman was unresponsive, ignoring Tim’s worried tone. Jazz was completely paralyzed, eyes wide, arms frozen where she touched Nightwing on the shoulders as he bounced her around.

Jason narrowed his eyes. Why was Jazz so… like that? She had interacted with Nightwing before but she had been fine. Maybe a bit annoyed and worried when the whole “break and entering” incident happened, but now—

“Dick, let her go.” Jason finally said, stepping closer.

“Huh?”

He finally looked at the woman’s expression stuck in a shocked visage, eyes wide and mouth tightly pressed together.

“You okay?” He asked when he let her safely on her feet. Jazz snapped back into attention.

“Uh, yeah??” She passed a hand through her hair, nervously laughing. It didn’t take a detective to know something was up. “I’m cool. Totally cool!”

Huh.

Weird.

Jazz said she was very touchy feely and loved hugs, why have this reaction now?

Jason had the fleeting thought that maybe she had a crush on his brother, either in or out of the uniform, the same spark of jealousy burning in his chest with the same intensity her cheeks burned as she sat down at the sofa ignoring everyone present.

He still felt her lips on his, her tongue dancing with his. She had said yes to him. She wanted him.

With a sigh he walked to the sofa and slumped next to her, looping one arm around her shoulders. No, it wasn’t meant to be a possessive gesture. She still looked kind of spooked.

“Everything okay? Is my brother bothering you?”

She jumped at his words.

“I’m fine,” she took a deep breath, steeling herself. Her hands stopped combing her hair. “Is just… ugh,” she rubbed her face, “when I was like, fifteen? Yeah, around that era, I was such a Nightwing fan.” She dipped her head, clearly not wanting to look at the beaming smile in Dick’s face. “And now that I know he’s my gymnastics teacher… I’ve face planted so many times in front of him.”

“Is okay, dear!” Dick was practically sparkling as he danced towards the sofa, picking one of her hands in his. Jazz’s face was red as a tomato. “You are just learning, you’ll get better in no time.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Tim interrupted the moment, picking a kitchen chair to place it in front of the coffee table with an even bigger smile. “You were a Nightwing groupie?”

“I was… very young.”

“Even in the Discowing era?” Jazz whined, closing her eyes with a nod. “Even in the mullet era?”

“Since the Robin era,” she let her head drop. “We all knew, of course. There were whole channels dedicated to analysis of Nightwing’s movements and how it was very obvious he was the first Robin.” She made a gesture with her hand, rolling her eyes. “I thought it was a waste of time to obsess over that, as if we had to prove it again and again to newcomers.”

“Channels?”

“Was I that obvious?”

“So you were in those fanclub forums?” Tim ignored the others to ask.

Jazz looked him in the eye. “I was the club president for two years.”

If Jason had to describe Tim’s smile at that moment, he would say “predatory”. Like a lion that found its prey and was getting ready to pounce. Jason knew that expression. It only meant one thing: blackmail.

“Interesting…” He opened the wrist computer of his suit, typing something on it.

“You won’t find the site, it was taken down for ‘unauthorized Nightwing merchandise’ and ‘unauthorized use of Nightwing’s image without his consent’.” She crossed her arms, lifting her chin in defiance.

Jazz had so much to learn if she thought that meant she was safe from a Bat.

“That’s no problem for me—”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

She stood up so fast Jason didn’t see her move. He almost didn’t catch her fast enough either, but managed to loop his arms around her waist before she lunged at Red Robin, fists ready. He would otherwise pay to see her go nuts on the shortstack, but it didn’t seem like a good idea at the moment.

Jazz stumbled at the unexpected pull and fell on his lap with a soft “oof”.

“What happened to ‘no murdering anyone in my apartment’, darling?” He chuckled at her flushed face when she looked up at him.

“It’s okay if I’m the one doing the murdering.” She grumbled, but there was no real intent in her voice.

He was so tempted to kiss her senseless right then and there, damn his brothers watching the show, but tried to be happy enough with having her warmth on his lap. She didn’t even try to fight her way out of his arms, choosing to stay there and get comfortable on his legs, pouting and crossing her arms.

“I’ve done things I’m not proud of in those forums, Red Robin. If I find out you looked, I will end you myself and not even being my favorite Bat will help you.”

Yeah. He couldn’t resist. He kissed the top of her head, burying his face in her hair. It smelled nice.

“I’m your favorite bat?”

“That’s the only thing you take from that?”

Jason looked up from his redhead heaven. Dick was between looking horrified at the murder threats and smiling at how cute they were being. He rolled his eyes. Whatever, he could love his girlfriend in public if he wanted, he was not a coward.

“You can call me Tim,” Replacement continued talking, but wisely chose to close the wrist computer and give up on poking the bear. “Now, tell me more about me being the favorite.”

“As in Tim Drake?” All anger left her at the piece of information.

“Yeah? I thought you already knew about us.”

“Not everyone,” she shook her head, “I haven’t had time to review my research. I’ve been a bit busy, you know, being threatened.”

Dick sighed, sitting down on the sofa, combing back his hair with his hands.

“We’re sorry. If it helps, we didn’t know B was going to jump like that. He didn’t tell anybody what’s going on and by the time we found out it was too late.”

“And we are sorry to you too, Jason.” The mentioned jumped at the unexpected apology. “If we had found out about Bruce’s plans sooner… Duke and Cass knew even less about what was happening. They feel really bad.”

“The guys at the Diner, right?”

Tim nodded at Jazz. “They wanted to come to apologize as well, but we didn’t know if… Well, we didn’t even know if you were going to still be in Gotham.”

Jason felt her deflate and melt against his chest. The situation wasn’t the best, things were never going to go back to how they were before, and the weight of that knowledge rested on her heart. And his.

He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say everything was Bruce’s fault. If he believed her a little more instead of letting what Bruce was saying get to his head, maybe they would have talked out everything that same afternoon. But he didn’t believe her, he broke that trust, and that would be his cross to bear.

It was still shitty, though.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere for the moment. Apologies accepted.” She was such a nice person. At what moment did he ever consider she could be as bad as her parents? “And I’m going to regret this, but I don’t mind if they come by to visit.”

“Don’t.” Jason whispered softly. “Don’t leave an open invitation.”

“It’s my apartment, though.”

Jason grumbled against her shoulder. “At least get that damn window lock. And curtains.”

She hummed, but didn’t make any promises. Was she messing with him? At this point he was positive she was not putting a window lock out of spite.

“Well,” Dick stood up, slapping his hands against his thighs as he did, “is getting late and the lovebirds need to continue ‘making up’ or whatever the younglings call it these days.”

“Hey.”

“Actually, I agree. I have a long day tomorrow.”

While it was late and it was true that Jazz needed to at least keep a normal sleep schedule, Jason didn’t want to let her go. His arms tensed around her waist, just enough to stop her from moving out of his lap.

She turned to smile at him. Her relaxed expression was a complete opposite of the uncomfortable smiles she offered earlier that day. He didn’t know how warm and true her smiles were until they weren’t, and he decided to keep making her smile like this forever.

“You go as well.”

“Do I have to?” He didn’t pout. He wouldn’t do that with an audience.

“I will be here tomorrow. And the day after that.” It sounded like a promise. Did she guess he needed reassurance?

Maybe she did, because she gently placed her hands on his arms, carefully prying them away from her. Once she was free, she took his hands in hers, interlacing their fingers.

Everything else in the room vanished as he looked into her teal eyes, noticing the subtle variations in color, the green creeping in the borders of her irises.

“Tomorrow.”

He nodded in agreement, not sure what he was agreeing to.

His attention snapped back to the present when he heard Tim make a sound like a strangled duck. Jazz stood up, careful to not upset his still healing leg, and started pushing his brothers to the window. They were sharing some quick parting words, mostly Tim asking her to elaborate on the whole ‘favorite Bat’ thing and Dick trying to fish for compliments of his Discowing outfit.

Jason ignored them all, standing up to glare at the costumed duo until they were outside and Jazz closed the window. He made a mental note to add his own traps since she refused to get a lock.

“So…”

He looked at her, watching her every move, his mind going back to the kiss they shared. They were alone again, the air still buzzing with the underlying tension after the day’s events.

That morning he thought he had lost her forever and now he couldn’t help himself from approaching her to go for another kiss.

She accepted it with another one of her easy smiles.

“You have to go.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I really?” He leaned in for another kiss, trying to tempt her into a round 2, but she was faster and put a hand on his chest, stopping him.

Jazz arched an eyebrow. “Maybe vigilantes can go for days without sleeping but for sure I am not willing to imitate that behavior.”

“I thought you were superhuman?” He teased.

“Not a super.” She bit her lip, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the front door. She was not using a lot of strength and he humored her.

It was easy to laugh around her. He missed this. He missed feeling so weightless.

Once he was at the door he grabbed her by the waist to pull her closer to his body, eager to feel her presence. He needed to imprint her warmth in his memory until tomorrow, not willing to let her go without taking that with him until he saw her again.

That goodbye kiss was deeper, her lips welcoming him and her tongue hesitant to let him closer to her sharp teeth. Not that he minded getting cut here and there, but they would work on that.

Jason opened his eyes when he heard a noise coming from the window.

Of course the idiots were still there, watching with wide smiles on their stupid faces.

He flipped the bird at them.

***

The next day found the couple cuddling on the sofa watching a movie like they were supposed to before everything went down. It had been Jason’s idea, he texted her while she was still at the hospital; at first a bit hesitant but when she said she was completely in with the idea, he immediately started making suggestions of what to watch.

It wasn’t until Christine tapped on her arm with a knowing smirk that Jazz noticed her lunch break was almost over. She had been texting Jason with a silly smile on her face.

Whatever, she thought as she leaned closer to Jason, relishing on their joined hands and the warmth of his shoulder under her cheek. She almost lost him, lost this, and she was allowed to enjoy the giddiness until the reality of what they would need to face came knocking at her door.

The ripple of the events of that week were starting to happen.

Dylan, her boss, looked at her with a smug smile every time they interacted, making jabs and asking not-that-innocent questions about what Bruce Wayne wanted from her.

Her coworkers whispered behind her back. Christine was her friend at work, but she was a horrible gossip, and by thursday everyone knew that the man came to visit Jazz and picked her up after work. So far nobody dared ask, but speculation ran rampant the longer Jazz refused to say anything.

“What’s wrong?”

Jason paused the movie — some kind of fantasy adventure both had agreed looked interesting.

“Just thinking.”

He hummed, considering her words. “I won’t ask if you don’t want to say,” Jazz winced where he couldn’t see it, “but let me know if I can help with something.”

“Not everything can be punched into submission.”

He chuckled, making her shake as well. “I still haven’t found one problem I couldn’t blow up or punch in the face.”

Jazz’s mind pictured the face of Jason’s adoptive father and had to bite back the comment that she hadn’t seen him punch the man in the face yet. That wasn’t the time or place for that conversation.

“I’m just worried.”

“About?”

What could she say? Everything? They had been in their quiet bubble cuddling and kissing, but sooner or later they’d have to face the music and talk about all the things left unsaid.

What Jason did at night, what she did before coming to Gotham. How long she had in the city. What would happen after.

The GIW.

Vlad.

Batman.

“Stuff.” She chose to make a vague gesture with her free hand. “We need to talk to Batman. Eventually.”

He scoffed but didn’t let go of her hand. “If I could not talk to him ever again I would be happy.”

Jazz bit her tongue again, questions fighting to get out. What happened to them? Did that have anything to do with why Jason became a Crime Lord? Did Batman treat his own son like a criminal too?

She heard a rustle coming from the window, turning her head less than a second before she saw the dark cape pass by. She jumped into action, not caring about moving like a human anymore, quickly approaching the sword display Jason kept in his living room and picking the twin blades — talwar — that looked sharpened.

Jason was already standing by the time she was back between him and the window opening — Batman had come to visit.

“You have a lot of nerve coming here,” her boyfriend growled, his stance tensed. His injuries were mostly healed, but she knew that it still hurt on his left side. “After what you have done.”

Jazz watched Batman— Bruce step into the apartment and close the window behind him, drawing the curtains. He slowly took the cowl off, not making any sudden move.

She didn’t lower the talwar.

“What do you want?” Her voice betrayed nothing, but she didn’t want to bring the animosity just yet.

Bruce hesitated, looking back at the window as if he expected someone to be there. His stance was guarded but defeated. He didn’t come to fight. The whole furry suit could have fooled her.

“I came to apologize.”

Jason scoffed, walking to Jazz and standing closer to the sword display. Just in case.

Batman followed his every move, eyes going to his injured leg. So now he was worried about his son’s health?

“Bruce apologizing? Someone check the weather, pigs may be flying.”

Jazz wanted to roll her eyes at the sarcasm, but let it slide.

“My behavior was… badly timed— ” Understatement, Jazz thought “ — and I acted before getting the whole story first.”

The couple waited. And waited.

That’s it?

She lowered the swords a little. “You really need to work on your communication skills.”

Jason barked a laugh, but she didn’t turn to look at him. Her eyes were fixed on the intense sky blue of the other man’s eyes watching her, analyzing her. She didn’t care if he thought she was dangerous anymore, or if he wanted to kick her from the city — she was here to stay, even if he liked it or not.

“I’m sorry.” Bruce tried again. He looked again at the closed curtains, head almost imperceptibly tilting to the side. Jazz could hear the buzzing of a comms device, but couldn’t identify the words or the voices. “I’m sorry you and your loved ones went through what you went through. We should have been there. I should have been there.”

So he had been listening to her and Jason. The thought wasn’t surprising. At least it would speed up the explanations.

“We dealt with it.” Would things be better if the Justice League had been there to help? She still thought it was a bad idea for the heroes to get tangled in ghost business, but they were so lost in those first years. Some guidance would have been nice. “It’s all in the past.”

Bruce made a face. He didn’t like her answer.

Well, that’s the only one he was going to get. At least until Danny was there.

“I’m sorry for accusing you. And revealing yourself against your will.”

“I was in hiding.”

“I know.” More words coming from the comms. “We need to—”

She cut him off. “You still don’t understand, Batman—”

“Bruce is fine.” He tried to smile, but it was weak. Not reassuring at all.

“Bruce,” Jazz gave the talwar to Jason, who had been quietly watching the exchange, “you may think you are impossible to find, that your technology is the best; but it is not enough. Not when dealing with ghosts. Not when there’s been an ongoing intelligence war between us for years and nobody is above mixing magic with tech.”

This interested him, but he didn’t ask anything about it.

“We have magic users in the League.” He said as if it would take all the problems away.

“Ghost magic is different. For starters, it is in a language no one alive can speak or understand.” A fact Tucker struggled with, but made do with what he could understand. “I can do some basic warding, so if you let me—”

“I didn’t do the research. It was done by—”

“Barbie?” The betrayal was palpable in Jason’s voice. “She’s in on this?”

“She approached me with the information, but it was I, and I alone, who drew the conclusions.” The way he insisted seemed practiced. More voices came from the earpiece. “But if only looking will put her at risk…”

Jazz didn’t know who this “Barbie” was, but even if Bruce was trying to cover for her she was still an innocent tangled with the bullshit that was her life.

She sighed. “Wait here.”

With a hope that they wouldn’t kill each other during the time she ran to her apartment, Jazz quickly searched for some paper and a pen. She drew the sigil she had memorized and bit her thumb with one of her fangs, drawing a few drops of her blood.

Danny’s would be more effective, but the Princess’ should be enough to deter any low level ghost. Just in case.

Jazz repeated the process a few times. It was always better to place them in the doors and thresholds, and she didn’t know how many this Barbie person would need.

Once she was done she fast walked back to Jason’s place, half expecting to find them at each other’s throats. They were not, but the air was more tense than how she left them.

“Absolutely not.”

“Jay—”

“I said no.”

Bat—Bruce turned towards her. “She should know.”

“Know what?”

“Don’t!” Jason rushed to step in between them. “Don’t drag her into your bullshit.”

Jazz carefully stepped around Jason, eyes fixed on the still unmoving figure of Bruce by the window. “Know what?” She repeated.

Again voices were coming from the earpiece. Louder this time.

“Tomorrow night,” Bruce took a fortifying deep breath, “there is a family dinner. We’d be delighted if you and Jason joined us.”

“I told the Golden Boy plenty of times that I won’t be going!” Jazz was taken aback by how incensed Jason got with this topic. She understood by now that his relationship with the Waynes was strained, but enough to warrant this reaction? “She won’t be going, I won’t be going, end of conversation!”

“Maybe she should decide for herself.”

“Oh that’s rich!”

Bruce winced. “What I meant to say is…,” he looked her into her eyes and then away. “We… I mean,” the buzzing from the comms became louder, “I would like to invite you, Jasmine, as an apology for… everything. Just dinner. And we can properly, uh, meet. Outside all of…” He made a vague gesture that encompassed his suit.

Jason was going to step in and continue growling, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest. It was good to know what Jason wanted, but she wasn’t sure that cutting all communication was the way to go. Just look at how things go bad so fast when they keep things from each other — why wouldn’t it be the same for him and his family?

“Do you really not want to go?” She turned to ask her boyfriend. If he said no then she was not going, but she needed to ask.

He narrowed his eyes. “You can’t be seriously considering—”

“I just want to know.”

It was a simple question. Yes or no.

And yet, he hesitated, eyes going back and forth between Bruce and herself. There was a certain longing in his eyes — maybe not towards his adoptive father, but it was there. Jason never outright talked about his family, maybe to not reveal many facts that connected him to the dead son of Bruce Wayne, but Jazz had seen him interact with the others. There was banter there, a sense of belonging.

Whatever happened to drift them apart was between Bruce and Jason. Not the rest of the flock.

“I don’t want you to endure them more than you have to,” he finally said, not really answering her question. “It will be more of an interrogation than a family dinner.”

He was probably right. If all of them were the Gotham heroes, it could end up being an intense situation.

“Alfred’s cooking.” Bruce’s words made Jason flinch a little. “He misses you.”

Okay.

That was not nice, Bruce.

“I’ll go,” this made both jump snap back towards her, “but is not enough of an apology. Or your practiced speech.” She didn’t know what face she was making, but Bruce’s expression was… sad. “You almost cost me everything I have in the Living World and put every death-touched individual in this city in danger.” She didn’t care about mincing words. This wasn’t just about Jason and her, not anymore. “Your meddling has put a target on my back so big and so bright that it has affected every part of my life.”

This made Bruce frown. “What do you mean?”

Jazz took a breath. “You draw a lot of attention, you know? Coming to Arkham in person, asking around about me, only raised suspicion. Dylan is waiting for the pressure to become too much that I resign, and that’s not taking into consideration that he won’t ever approve my changes in Arkham if I stayed.

“On the other side, Gotham has now become a place of interest for the supernatural world. There was a delicate balance, a way things have managed themselves here, and now people will come asking questions and shooting ghosts and I will have to step in and protect them. There is a reason why I was hiding who I am, Bruce.”

“You are an influential individual? In the supernatural world.”

He was fishing for information she wouldn’t provide. For now.

“I am. In a way.” She let him draw his own conclusions. “So the ramifications of what you have done go further than the unpleasant experience.”

“I’m sorry.”

It seemed genuine. She smiled.

“I know you are sorry, but that’s not enough for me.” She shook her head. “We can help each other, though.” She lifted the sigils that pulsed with magic — her magic. “I give you this and we go to the dinner—”

“Hey, I haven’t said—”

“ — and you support me and my cause, publicly. I don’t need your money, just the support.” She added when Bruce lifted an eyebrow. “That will shut up Dylan and make him and his little circle of mobsters wannabes back off for a while.”

“The what?”

“You didn’t know?” She turned towards Jason. “There is a whole operation going on in Arkham. They are not that subtle, but since nobody ever looks at what’s going on at Arkham they don’t have to.”

Jason flinched. Bruce shuffled his feet.

“You guys didn’t know.”

Unbelievable.

“Okay. It’s… well. We can talk about this later. I have a list.” She turned back to Bruce. “Do we have a deal?”

She walked closer to him and extended her hand. Bruce looked at it like it was going to jump and attack him.

(Did this man really raise Jason?)

“You’ll also have our… my protection, while you stay here. Whatever long that stay is.” He still wasn’t moving, his eyes going towards his estranged son watching the exchange from behind Jazz.

She never expected seeing the dark figure of Batman look so small and vulnerable. Bruce was waiting for Jason’s little nod of approval, it didn’t take much to see it. When he got it, he extended his gloved hand.

There was so much going on there, Jazz knew. The communication issues weren't even the main part of the problem.

But she would take this one day at a time. For the moment she was going to shake Bruce’s hand and smile at him in reassurance.

“Deal.”

----

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[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 11

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

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Saturday was supposed to be Barbara’s day to relax, or at least, to relax as much as one could when following a major Arkham breakout and the city was under complete chaos.

Twenty four hours ago Oracle found out about the escape and this was the first time she stopped to rest since that. Real rest, since the other times she just took bathroom breaks and went to microwave an ‘emergency food’ tupperware Alfred always left for her for when she had a bad day and couldn’t cook. Bless that man.

Barbara could say she had a restless sleep, which made sense given the circumstances; what didn’t make sense were the screams she clearly remembered, asking her to stop, asking her to look again, asking her to-

She rushed back into her wheelchair and then to her Oracle set up, waking up the computers she didn’t turn off before going to sleep, and running to open a folder she had created and abandoned when it didn’t become a priority.

The Fentons. For some reason, the name was on the tip of her tongue when she awoke, reminding her that she had promised to look more into their research but never got around to actually doing it.

What stood out to her was how unusual it was - you had scientists debunking magicians, you had magicians obsessed with their craft, you had occultists interested in what lies beyond and real life necromancers with grimoires on how to reanimate the dead.

But all in one? That promised, at least, to be a fun read.

Since she had cleared Jason’s girlfriend's background and she had more pressing stuff to look into, Barbara pushed it aside and simply left a note to check it out later. Something she never did.

The universe, or maybe a higher power, wanted her to look into it now.

So she did.

Starting with the easy and accessible part, she went back to the research she already did almost a month ago. They had a presence on the internet - an official ‘Fentonworks’ site existed, but it was outdated and not very user friendly; but gave her a starting point, and this time she was focusing on the parents instead of Jasmine.

Ecto scientists were how they called themselves, despite nobody else was seriously working in that field. Humble origins, Madeline from a small family of farmers in the countryside, Jackson from a family of self proclaimed witch-hunters (no notes on the family name, Fenton-Nightingale, in any of the Justice League Dark records). One college friend, Vlad Masters, had a fallout with the couple after an accident during an experiment and then a prolonged hospitalization.

While any records of the children had been… worryingly escarce, Barbara had easily found every paper they published during their early career, their proposals for funding, their entries for science competitions.

Surprisingly, and funny enough, Barbara found a request for funding to Wayne Enterprises, dated fifteen years ago. The project, from what she could gather even if practical electronics wasn’t her forte, consisted of some kind of… portal? To what they assured was the dimension ghosts came from. It was nonsense, so it was rejected immediately.

Now that she knew what to look for, she found out they did get the funding - from LexCorp.

Barbara frowned, taking note of this.

From there on she found more projects Lex funded, stopping when his brief stint as President happened. Every project was more worrying than the one before: weapons, methods of containment, investigation on new materials that ghosts couldn’t phase through.

A new billionaire took up the task of funding this trainwreck: DALV Co. Barbara rolled her eyes at the name, laughing when she guessed it was Vlad Masters’ doing. Why would a long lost friend who hadn’t contacted them in twenty years suddenly siphon millions into this madness?

Her answer was simple: the portal was a success.

She found articles, papers, personal email - piles upon piles of documentation about a successful kick start of the Ghost Zone portal project.

By the dates, Jasmine must have been around seventeen and Daniel fourteen or fifteen. But there was nothing about them. Just a worrying footnote in Jack’s email to their ‘mysterious’ benefactor about taking a brief break because they had to take his son to the doctor after a ‘nasty shock back at the lab’.

Barbara took note of this. Mainly because there was nothing else since then about the kids in either their personal emails or official photos. If she didn’t already know these two had family she wouldn’t have guessed going by their online footprint only.

The woman shook her head. She already knew about the neglect, there was no need for wasting time feeling sad for a stranger.

So Barbara kept digging and digging, the sun outside the Clocktower going down and the night creeping back in.

It was about time she got some food into her body, so she went and did it. Sometimes, stepping back helped get the bigger picture, something she tried to beat into Dick’s head when he came by moping about a case.

Once she came back feeling a bit fresher and sharper, she stopped her wheelchair in front of the computer, but didn’t reach her keyboard just yet. The multiple screens showed everything she got so far in her research, and while it was plenty, she had this feeling she was missing important information. Something told her the puzzle had pieces missing and it didn’t matter how much she tried to put what she had together, it would always be an incomplete image.

Missing pieces…

She looked at the dates, making a timeline in her head. There were periods of time that the Fenton elders didn’t publish anything or made any big purchases for science projects or for the house, not even evidence of a vacation - nothing that justified the downtime.

Oracle pulled up the research on the Fenton kids. Nothing of note here. There were gaps here as well, especially after they finished high school, but gap years weren’t that unusual so she didn’t take note of that in her initial research.

Gaps. So many gaps.

And they fit with each other.

Every time the parents vanished from the face of Earth, the kids did too. Now that she noticed, it rubbed her the wrong way.

She launched herself now into investigating these gaps and what they were doing in these months. Years of one-to-two month long gaps, paced out enough to fool the untrained eye.

Jasmine’s online college application was in one of the periods of time she could find information easily, but apart from an average performance in her courses, there was nothing of note about her studies. Good grades, but no extra courses or voluntary work, like she did in highschool.

Daniel never applied for college, now that she was paying attention. There was nothing about him, online or otherwise. After the first hospital visit - nasty shock indeed, he had electrical burns in his left arm, probable nerve damage -, there were no follow ups, no check ups, no nothing.

This went beyond neglect. Barbara was starting to suspect that the Fenton kids had decided to help their parents’ endeavors in these ‘gaps’, in these probable top secret projects, so they had too many reasons to not attract unnecessary attention.

If someone took the time to erase this after leaving all the shady stuff the Fenton elders did for LexCorp, she feared what she could find.

It was Sunday morning when she finally made a breakthrough.

Her morning coffee went back up her throat, and Barbara was glad that she hadn’t eaten anything else since last night.

Videos. Reports. Autopsies. Dissections. Records upon records of atrocities committed by these two ‘scientists’ in the name of progress, their names proudly written down next to yet another mysterious benefactor - the Ghost Investigation Ward.

Oracle swallowed her discomfort and went back into the fray with renewed determination. She dug up anything she could find on these GIW people. Where they came from, who they worked for, what they wanted. Level of threat against the world. She started drafting an official report for the Justice League, just in case, since this sounded like something they should be aware of.

Government, it said in the official records, but there was nothing she could see that wasn’t smoke and mirrors to sound big and important. Private money, probably Lex, funded the whole operation - and they hid it well, since she couldn’t find actual proof that backed her suspicions.

It was way past Sunday midnight, maybe already Monday morning, when Oracle decided she had collected enough incriminating evidence on the GIW, the Fenton parents and, sadly, the Fenton children.

She found non-official records of data on Jasmine and Daniel, something about ‘ecto contamination’ and ‘liminality’, from around the same time Jack and Maddie signed on a report about the same topic for the GIW.

What sickened her more was that the kids - Jasmine and Daniel, they were not children by this point, were very into the idea. Comments and jokes filled the non-official reports, quips about the process, silly dares to their sibling to see who could analyze the data faster.

Jason was going to be so heartbroken. And it was her damn fault for not being thorough.

Worst part of all this dumpster fire? It was totally legal. Lex passed some stupid laws about ‘ecto entities’ that basically gave free reign to cut open these ghost-people without repercussions.

Barbara felt her eyes start to water as she opened the direct channel with the Batcave.

Jason was going to kill her. He had been right about suspecting Jasmine and she had dismissed his worries because they looked good together.

“Hey, O!” Tim answered. Weird, Bruce must have been back already from the League mission. “Glad to see you are alive.”

“I’ve been kind of distracted,” she chose not to raise the alarm for the moment. “Is B around there?”

Tim actually laughed. “He’s moping because Jazz found out about Hood’s secret identity and she kind of beat his ass, but I think-”

“I need to talk to him.” Barbara didn’t mean to be so harsh, but if the Fenton woman knew about the family secret by now then it was a worse than bad situation.

Bless his soul, Tim got the urgent tone in her voice. “Got it. Let me connect the call with his phone, he must be having lunch by now.”

Lunch? Barbara looked at the clock in her computer. It was afternoon. Monday afternoon. Already.

“Oracle.” Bruce didn’t do pleasantries, even less when she called and even less when she called his personal phone.

“Bruce, we have a situation.”

“... I’m listening.”

***

Saturday afternoon.

Was it Saturday afternoon already? It was too early, if you asked Jason. He felt like he had been run over by a truck, and the shower and sleep didn’t help ease the feeling at all.

He wanted to be with Jazz. She usually made everything better by just being there.

Also, he totally stood her up. They had a date and he stood her up. Was ‘I’m trying to wrangle all the crazies of this city back to Arkham and not die in the process’ a valid excuse to give to a girlfriend you totally stood up?

She was going to be furious.

Or maybe not?

Jason checked his chat with her and she hadn’t said anything that suggested she was mad at him. The cute message about sleeping well and thinking about him that morning meant that she wasn’t mad, right?

He smiled at the screen, letting himself bask in the idea that he didn’t fuck this up before it even had a chance to develop.

Scrolling up, he found again the selfie with his dumb brother and the purple gremlin. He zoomed on her smiling face, wondering if he could just… have this. If he could wake up to silly messages after a night of patrol, if he could stop worrying about excuses and rescheduling dates, if he didn’t need to tell her lies or half truths over text when he needed to rush because of an emergency.

Maybe - Maybe her knowing wasn’t a bad idea.

Maybe she already knew, too.

Last night she looked like she already knew, unfazed by the chaos of Tim breaking into her apartment, bleeding and needing stitches, of a fight about to break out, of his literal bloodied hands on hers.

“I’d take the secret to my grave.” She had said with a little frown. Determined, decided, completely serious.

He believed her. After all, she had kept her own secret, whatever that was, for so long. Maybe if he came clean about the Red Hood thing she would tell him? Should he say he knew she was hiding something, or would that frighten her more?

He didn’t want to make her feel scared. Ever.

Let’s say she knows… How much does she know? How much did she believe about the legends? Had she created a watered down version that is easy to digest? He refused to believe nothing would change between them after coming clean about it.

Not that he was really trying to hide anymore. He was a coward by not telling her directly, by waiting for her to say it first, and then calling her pet names.

It really was a mess. He only needed to tell her and it all would be fine. Why was it so hard to just say the words?

“Salagadoola mechicka boola, Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo.”

The heck?

“Put them together and what have you got, Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!”

That was -

Was Jazz signing? Singing Disney? Was she really blasting Disney songs so loud that he could hear from his room?

“Yes, salagadoola means, mechicka booleroo, but the thing-a-mabob that does the job is bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!”

Something heavy was moved around, her voice rising above the music coming from the speakers as she did whatever she was doing. What was she doing? Chores? It was such a chores song.

He could just ask.

He could just go over there and ask and maybe join her and talk about rescheduling that date. Could it really be that easy?

Jason chuckled as he finally got out of bed, the smile not leaving his face as he listened to her giving her all singing Disney songs, a little bit off key, but not enough to make it at all unpleasant.

Okay, maybe he was biased. Sue him.

She was starting a rendition of “You are Welcome” as he finished getting dressed and went to the door of his apartment. Out on the hallway the music was somehow louder, and Jason was glad there were no other people on this floor to come out and complain about the music, letting him have this moment to himself.

He rang the doorbell, realizing after he did that there was no way she could hear it with the noise-

The door opened.

She was radiant. A big smile stretched her lips as she saw it was him at the door, her eyes shining with emotions he wasn’t sure he could decipher. She was happy, excited, and definitely not angry at him for ditching their date.

“Jay!” She pulled her phone from her shorts pocket and taped the screen. The music stopped. “Hi. Sorry, did I wake you up?”

Did she guess he had slept in today? She had left messages that morning, but nothing that said she knew he wouldn’t respond or why.

“Nah, I was already moving around.”

She nodded and moved aside to let him in.

Jason has been there not long ago, but the blood on the floor and the kitchen table had been already cleaned. Good. Blood stains were hard to clean if left alone for too long. Smart girl.

“What’s up?” She closed the door behind her and went back to wiping the counters in the kitchen. “Sorry, I’m just in the zone right now. If I stop cleaning I won’t want to get back to it, but I’m listening!”

“Everything okay? Why are you cleaning all of the sudden?”

Jazz scoffed and glanced at him over her shoulder. “You won’t believe what happened to me last night!”

“Oh?” He walked closer, resisting the urge to hug her from behind and choosing to lean on the wall as she did her thing. “What happened?”

“Red Robin crashed through my window, injured, and asked me to help him! Can you believe it?”

It sounded fake that Timbo asked with actual words, but he accepted her comment. “Did you help him?”

“Of course,” she huffed, “I wouldn’t let people be hurt if I can do something to help. But the thing is he bled all over the place and I knew I needed to clean it all before it stained, and then I started organizing the kitchen and I couldn’t stop since.”

He watched carefully as she talked, stepping on the tip of her toes trying to reach the highest cabinets. Taking pity on her, he took the cloth from her hands and started wiping the parts she couldn’t reach.

“I had another visitor.” She smiled at him.

“Is that so?” He didn’t smile, he couldn’t smile back. Would be too obvious.

“Hm-hm. Red Hood swung by as well to check on me.”

“How nice of him.”

He felt her eyes fixed on him, waiting. He wondered if he had been too obvious last night -

(Of course he was, he deliberately called her ‘darling’ for fucks sake)

- and if she had enough evidence to make the jump and ask.

Like a coward, he decided to change the topic.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you.” Finally he looked back at her, having finished busying himself with wiping the cabinets. “About the date.”

“Yeah?” Still, she didn’t look mad. Curious, maybe.

“Sorry for canceling at the last minute,” her lips twitched with a little smile, but she didn’t interrupt him. “Want to reschedule?”

“Sure. Dinner tonight?” He must have made a face as he opened his mouth to bullshit an excuse for why he couldn’t that night, because she tilted her head and said: “Tomorrow for lunch?”

It was really that easy, huh? He felt a pressure leave his chest, his shoulders relaxing immediately.

“Lunch sounds lovely.”

Jazz placed a hand on his cheek, smiling up to him. She did the same thing last night - was it on purpose? Was it her way to tell him she knew?

“Then it’s a date,” her lips curved in a teasing smile, “darling.”

Oh.

He felt his cheeks burn a little.

She knew. She knew and she was messing with him. All thoughts about how much exactly she knew and if Jazz was actually aware of his criminal activities left his mind. If she knew enough and still looked at him like that, then it wasn’t unreasonable to think she’d want him still if - when she learned the ugly parts too.

He wanted this, he wanted to feel like this, so at peace, forever.

Just like last night, he put his hand over hers on his cheek. She giggled, recognition shining in her eyes. But unlike last night, he leaned down and kissed her like he wanted to before Oracle interrupted them.

This time there were no nosy siblings, no puddles of blood, no emergencies; just the sounds of the deceivingly calm city coming from the opened window and the touch of her lips on his.

When they parted, he couldn’t stop smiling. He didn’t want to, actually.

“It’s a date.”

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[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 10

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

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“So, you have a date or something?”

Jazz was a bit tired today, but at least she managed to sleep more than four hours. That meant that she had enough energy to smile at the nurse, Christine, who thought she had a right to know about her private life. She witnessed Jason dropping her off one time, and had been asking for updates since.

“Yes,” she swallowed the urge to growl. “And it’s none of your business.”

Jazz continued walking, clipboard in hand, checking on each of her patients. She dealt with most of the considered ‘low risk’ - that is, those that didn’t require being bound 24/7. Still she had to be followed by an assistant, Christine, and a guard. Just in case.

“Doctor!” A voice she was glad to hear called for her. She turned, finding Edward Nashton watching her from the barred window of his door. “Just the lady I wanted to see!”

Jazz approached him, ignoring the guards’ protest and Christine’s gasp. Jazz was famous for disregarding protocol and getting closer to dangerous inmates. Many wondered if she had a death wish. Truly she just knew that whatever they threw at her wouldn’t be the worst that happened to her.

“Ed! How are we today?”

He got serious all of the sudden, his eyes going back to the retreating Christine and the tense guard.

“Something is going to happen,” he whispered.

“I see!” She caught on immediately. “Is there anything I can do?” She shuffled on her feet a little, placing her body between the others and the man.

“Hide. It’s something big. There have been talks of a breakout but I didn’t know when it was going to happen until right now,” he gave her a rare gentle smile. “You are a smart one, Doctor. Wouldn’t like to see your brains splattered on the wall.”

Coming from him, that was such a compliment.

“I’ll take note of that and talk to the chief about, sounds good?”

“Don’t,” he tried to get closer, but only managed to press himself harder to the bars. “Don’t tell anybody.”

She nodded. Information was pricey in the Asylum and everything came with a cost. Why was Edward telling her for free, she didn’t know, but she appreciated it.

“Understood. Take care, Eddy.”

“See you around, doc.” By his little smile, he was probably going to escape during the confusion.

Jazz wished she could do more. Really.

Her last proposal for a podcast made by inmates and for inmates had been rejected, again, even after making revisions. Even after getting Ivy’s agreement to behave in writing. Even after spending hours convincing Victor Fries that people would be interested in a science show.

Management in that place just didn’t care. She still had her powerpoints and her lists, but who would want to see them? If only someone with the power to change this place stopped and listened, she was sure something would change. Who knows, maybe even lower the number of attempted escapes.

Sometimes she wanted to burn the place down too, and didn’t blame her patients at all.

She was about to end her rounds for the day before going into the first scheduled therapy session, when the alarms started ringing.

***

“I already said I’m sorry! What else do you want from me!”

“For starters, I would like to know why the fuck are you in my apartment again.” Jason didn’t look up from his food, trying his best to ignore his brother lounging on his couch.

“I wanted to help.”

This made him look up. “Help with what?”

“With what you are going to wear tonight, of course!”

Jason put his fork down, trying to process his words. “You are not helping me with anything. Get out of my apartment.”

“I want to! I owe you after what happened last night.”

“Is not me who you have to apologize to, Dickolas. Jazz was a bit spooked.”

“I’m sorry! I thought it was your window!” The older man lifted his arms dramatically, glaring at the ceiling. “Your girlfriend has a mean swing, though.”

“I’ll make sure she knows,” he resumed eating, not really interested in the conversation. “Now get out of here.”

“I still want to help you find something nice to wear.” Dick stood from the sofa, wincing a little.

His head was still sore from last night, and that gave Jason a certain amount of satisfaction. After all, he had a bad time when he realized two important facts:

One, Jazz had seen too much. He had been so carried away by the amusement of seeing Dick passed out on his girlfriend’s shoulders, that he forgot he was half suited for the night. His weapons were everywhere, his helmet by the sofa and he already had finished strapping his boots and the knee pads. It wasn’t difficult to connect the dots about his identity.

Two, Dick had called him by his name. In front of her. He could have gotten away with her learning his identity, no problem - well, that’s a lie, he would have a lot of problems, but panicking wasn’t his style -; but the connection between him and the bats was already made and he knew that Jazz was smart and could pull the thread and find out everything sooner or later.

Also, as an extra, he had forgotten to put on a shirt. He wasn’t shy about his body, but the scary amount of scars would be difficult to explain. Especially the autopsy one he carried since his resurrection.

She got close, close enough to kiss him on the cheek, so she must have seen. She was very observant, she must have. It was a matter of time before she asked questions he couldn’t answer.

“Please tell me you have more stuff than muscle shirts and leather jackets.” The older man said as he started walking towards the hallway.

“Hell no,” Jason stuffed his mouth with what was left of his pasta and ran behind his brother, who made a beeline to his room. “Leave me the fuck alone!”

“Did you really seduce her with these?” Dick asked as he opened his closet, indeed revealing a series of black and white shirts and leather jackets.

“I didn’t seduce-”

“Maybe she is really into leather jackets. Hm.”

“Please, go away.”

Dick ignored him, humming to himself as he shuffled around the jackets, looking for something. “I mean, she must be into the bad boy aesthetic, so we can play with that.”

“I don’t know how you think you can ‘help’ when your own fashion sense is atrocious.”

Jason chose to just sit on his bed and let the chaos flow. He would reject everything Dick suggested and the man would eventually leave. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do until Jazz came back from work and changed for their dinner date.

Dick looked down at his jeans and Nightwing crop top he made himself. “You are just jealous I can pull off anything.”

“Discowing was a crime against fashion.”

“Excuse you-”

“You wore a mullet.”

“And it was-”

This time, he was interrupted by his ringing phone. It wasn’t a normal phone call - the screen was red and flashed with the alert signal that was activated when there was a vigilante-related emergency.

Jason’s phone started ringing, but this was a normal phone call from a number he thought he had blocked. He knew what he would hear before he even answered.

“Major Arkham breakout,” Bruce’s voice betrayed nothing. “All hands on deck. Will you help us?”

Why would the old man call himself after so long using Dick as an intermediate, he didn’t know. He didn’t care. He only had one question.

“Any casualties?”

Bruce breathed when he heard his voice, but kept the professionalism.

“Unknown. Nightwing and Batgirl are deployed to help with search and rescue.” There was a slight pause. “Will you help us?”

Jason looked up, but his brother had already left, knowing that a second of hesitation would be the difference between losing a life or not. Dick could be as airheaded and annoying as it gets, but he was a good hero.

Not that he would ever say that to his face.

“Yeah. Count me in.”

***

Jazz walked down the Arkham hallways, baseball bat in hand. She kept one in her locker just for shit like this. She knew, she just knew it was a matter of time before one of the inmates pulled something like this. It was a miracle that nothing happened while she was in the Asylum since she started working there a few months ago.

For now she was focused on getting out of the hospital in one piece. She was no hero, and it’s been a while since she had to fight anybody, so she wasn’t that confident in her abilities. Also, she was not used to fighting humans - and these humans probably had guns, she knew. Despite all her liminality, her strength and her quick healing, she could still die like any other mortal.

She didn’t want to die.

Jazz felt their presence before she saw the men, but fortunately they didn’t see her with the lights turned off as they were (the first thing that went out was the power, of course).

A few well placed swings and the armed men were down. She took their guns and threw them into an empty cell, closing the door. Then she threw the thugs into another empty cell and closed the door, memorizing the cell number to tell the police so they could find these men. They were thugs, but she wasn’t going to leave them to die.

Jazz was tempted to sweep the floors, but again, she wasn’t a hero. Heroes would come sooner or later, and she wondered which bat or bird would arrive to help evacuate and rescue the Arkham staff.

Batgirl for sure, Jazz started guessing in her head, she was famous for interacting with civilians and the public loved her.

“Hello?”

She turned to find a very bright flash of light directed at her. On instinct, she closed her eyes and covered her face, knowing they would flash like a cat’s if she let them open.

“Oh good,” Nightwing sighed and whispered, “she’s safe.”

Nightwing was here?

“I’ll text him.” Another person was there. A young woman.

“Please? The light?” Jazz frowned behind her hand.

“Sorry,” Nightwing pointed the flashlight to somewhere else. Just to be careful, Jazz kept her gaze fixed on the floor. If they asked, she could say she was afraid of the dark or something. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m just a bit disoriented.” A lie, but she had to play the damsel in distress and get out of here before she revealed something inhuman about her.

“Have you seen anybody else on this floor?” The other voice asked.

“Cell five-oh-two, some dudes tried to attack me and I managed to lock them there.” Not a lie, but a half truth that let her get away without explaining how she did it. “Their guns are in the next cell.”

She heard a buzzing sound and a distant snap, and then the lights were back. The bright fluorescents gave her a bit of a headache after so long in the dark, but she blinked the pain away and finally looked up.

Indeed, Batgirl was there. She was already checking the cells she instructed and tying up the unconscious thugs. Nightwing was looking at her baseball bat.

“I’m not going to hit you.”

Batgirl hollered, but continued her task.

“I’m sorry,” the man said. “I picked the wrong window.”

Probably was going to visit Jay. Why? She wasn’t sure yet.

“Apology accepted,” she hoped her smile seemed genuine and totally not like was hiding she knew who his friend was behind the mask. Helmet? She had to workshop that a bit.

“We could take a commemorative selfie!” Batgirl bounced back when she was done with the thugs. “Y���know, to match the other photo.”

“Jay sent those to you?”

Nightwing sighed. “He sent it to the group chat with everybody.”

Jazz didn’t know how to feel. A photo of her in probably one of her worst looks was shared in the Gotham’s vigilantes’ group chat. Whatever, this is what she got for dating one of them.

Also, these people were really awful at the whole ‘secret identity’ thing. Or did they assume Jay already told her?

“Sure,” she nodded. An idea crossed her mind and she said: “Actually, that’s a good idea. My boyfriend must be worried sick with the news and I haven’t felt safe enough to text him yet.”

Something lit in their faces when she said that, and despite a situation going on, both vigilantes walked up to her to take the photo. First they did a few with her phone - a normal one, and another doing silly faces. Then Batgirl pulled her own phone from somewhere, thankfully she had landscapes of Gotham as her lock screen and nothing that could give away her identity, and they did a few more. At least this time Jazz saw she looked decent enough, given the situation, and verbally agreed for the photo to be sent to the group chat.

Whatever. She was on this boat now, apparently. Date one vigilante and the rest will soon follow.

At least, for the moment, she had Jay for herself. Until she ‘officially’ knew the secret, that is.

Or until they learned hers.

***

It was getting late, but Jazz was still up, waiting. She checked her phone again, re reading her conversation with Jason and his careful words about something coming up and not being able to check on her just yet, but that he was glad she was fine. Nothing about canceling the date or about how she managed to get a selfie with the vigilantes, of course.

She wondered if he was assuming she knew, too. Was that how this was going to go down? Act like she didn’t see anything and he acts like she already knows?

Jazz sighed. At least Danny tried to hide his secret identity. Unbelievable, a fourteen year old teenager hid better than a grown ass man.

She was brought out of her musings by a tap on her window - someone was there. She turned on a reading lamp she had next to the couch and once her eyes adjusted to the light she looked at the window.

It wasn’t Jason, but that she already knew. He would have just gotten in on his own, not needing an invitation.

She opened her living room window to the pale face of yet another vigilante, one she didn’t expect to ever meet.

“Red Robin.”

“Hi. I’m sorry, this isn’t a social call,” his smile was shaky. “I’ve heard you are a doctor?”

Indeed, one of his hands was on his side, trying to put pressure on a bleeding wound.

“Not that kind of doctor, but I can help you,” she moved away to let him inside, hands ready in case he needed help. Red Robin jumped in without much trouble, but slumped to the floor the moment he was safely in. “What happened?”

“Croc got a lucky hit. Did you know he has spikes in his tail?”

Jazz chuckled, running to the bathroom to fetch her first aid kit. The big one where she had everything she could need and more.

“Not that I’m going to kick you out or anything, but why are you here?” She asked, feeling surprisingly calm despite being in the presence of her current favorite vigilante, who was bleeding out at an alarming rate on her floor. “Don’t you have, like, better options?”

“My other options were either too far or unavailable.” He didn’t elaborate on that, and she let him. This one took the whole hidden identity seriously, maybe Jason could learn a thing or two. “And I heard in the vigilante grapevine you took care of Hood, so,” he shrugged.

“First of all, that was just a scratch and you look like you have a foot in your grave,” she bit her lip to not laugh at her pun. Danny would be proud. “Can you move to the table?”

“Sure.” He wobbled towards the table and slumped onto a chair, not caring about sitting on his cape.

“Can you take the suit off?

“Is this how you treat all the vigilantes or is it only to make me feel special?” He asked, his face paling more by the minute, but removed his belt and opened the suit enough to let her see the deep cuts on his side.

Why was Red Robin giving nervous looks to her opened window, she didn’t know; but he was tense and wary, ready to jump.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” She tried to speak softly, but the cuts looked bad under her kitchen lights and it kind of put her on emergency mode.

“Is not you I’m worried about,” he gave another look at the window before turning to look at her with masked eyes. Up close it was kind of creepy. “This is Hood’s territory.”

Made sense. He was the one she saw the most around there.

“And?”

“He’ll kill me, or try again, if he sees me here.”

Okay, Jazz was not going to comment on that ‘again’ part, but that sounded worrying.

“This is going to sting a little.”

“Go for it.”

The hero didn’t flinch or make a sound when she poured antiseptic on the wound and patted it with a clean gauze. It was worse than what it looked like at first.

“You’ll need stitches.” At his short nod she went to get her nitrile gloves, more gauze, thread and a needle. “He won’t kill you, I promise.”

Red Robin chuckled nervously. “You don’t know him like we do, Jazz.”

She stopped, realizing that, indeed, she didn’t know Jason like they did. Nightwing knew who he was out of the mask and they acted like they went way back. Who’s to say that it wouldn’t be the same with the other vigilantes?

She felt kind of dumb for thinking she knew him better after only going on silly dates for a few weeks. She knew nothing. Who was she, compared to these people? He probably had to hide so much from himself. Did she really know the real Jason?

“If you are so sure he would kill you if he sees you here, why risk it?” Jazz decided to ignore her insecurities and started working on the stitches, her body remembering the practice in med school. They weren’t the best but they would hold just fine.

“Because he likes you.”

She stopped again, looking up at him. “What.”

“If he comes to kill me I’ll just hide behind you.”

Honestly Jazz wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. Again, she wondered if the bats assumed she already knew about Jason’s identity, because there was no way in Hell that Red Robin could say that otherwise.

“I don’t think I could take Red Hood in a fight.” She tried to laugh and act neutral, just in case.

“He wouldn’t fight you anyway, because he likes you.” The other smiled as if she wasn’t finishing stitching the first gash close and starting with the second one.

Was this conversation meant to distract him? She wasn’t used to anesthetic (halfa/liminal metabolism) so she forgot to apply it, not that he asked.

“What makes you think he likes me?” Her cheeks went red against her will. She still couldn’t believe he wanted to date her.

“He- uhhhhhhhhhh, he has a soft spot for redheads?”

Even if she didn’t know the truth, that was the least believable lie in the world. “Uh-huh.”

Red Robin chuckled. He still looked pale, but a bit better than when he knocked on her window.

“What the actual fuck?”

Of course, this is when the man decided to make an appearance. Jazz turned from where she was finishing up the last stitches, finding the imposing figure of her boyfriend in full suit jumping into her apartment from the window.

This was the first time she saw him in the suit since she knew (and since they started dating), and it was difficult to not make comparisons between the Jason she was used to and this dangerous man standing in front of her.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

It took a moment to realize he wasn’t talking to her. Also, he had started walking menancingly towards them, murder intent in every step.

“Stop!” She called before anything went down. There was silence as she finished the last two stitches and cut the thread. She stood up. “Okay, I’m done.”

Somehow she got the feeling Jason was looking between Red Robin and her standing between the man’s open legs. Jazz rolled her eyes. She needed to be close to properly do her job. If he was going to start shit because she was near another guy, Jazz was going to resort to violence.

“I needed medical help.” The seated vigilante lifted his hands, but from this close Jazz could see he was really nervous. Did Jason really try to kill him?

“Why didn’t you go back to your little boyfriend?” Red Hood stepped closer, using his height to look more menacing. “Or even better, why not run back to the Cave to be pampered and wrapped in warm blankets?” The sarcasm was obvious even with the modulator.

“She was closer.”

This was the wrong thing to say, because Hood stomped closer and a hand twitched over one of his guns.

“You have no right-”

“Okay, let’s stop,” Jazz had tried to be impartial since, you know, she was supposed to be an innocent civilian. But she really didn’t want this to escalate. She walked around Red Robin, gauze and tape in hand. “Hood, please, step back while I finish with my patient.”

He hesitated for a moment but did as she asked.

“Told you I could use you as a shield.” The injured vigilante whispered with a little smile.

“I would like to not be ‘used’ at all, thank you very much,” she frowned at him. He didn’t make any other comment as she placed the gauze and secured it with tape.

Tension could be cut with a knife inside her apartment. This was so different from the situation with Nightwing. Has she got it wrong? Were they not friends? They knew each other, that was for sure, but the hostility was over the roof.

“He just needed help, Hood. I am morally obligated to help, I made an oath.”

It was so annoying that she couldn’t read his face with the helmet in the way.

“Okay. But he has to go. This is my territory and he shouldn’t be here.”

“And this is my apartment and I say when someone goes away.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Are you threatening to kick me out?” Jason sounded hurt, even with the modulator.

Jazz let out a breath, relaxing her shoulders on purpose to look less threatening. “No,” he relaxed a little as well. “I’m saying that my place is neutral ground until we all learn to behave.”

She heard Red Robin quietly start zipping up his suit again, as if he didn’t want to make them remember he was watching everything go down.

“He is here to spy on you, how can you be so calm about it?”

Spy? What the heck?

“I am not-”

“Even if he had bad intentions I can’t turn away an injured person.” She walked closer, watching how his body was still tense even if it was just her. He was still glaring at Red Robin, she could gather that much from the angle of his head. “Why are you here, anyway? Are you hurt as well?”

Finally, he looked at her. “No.” His shoulders relaxed as he pondered what to say next. “I just wanted to see you.”

Jazz fought hard to control the warmth blooming in her chest, and maintain the serious expression on her face, knowing some of it was ruined by the fact her cheeks felt warm.

“As you can see I’m-” she started to say, touched that he took time to check on her after the Arkham incident.

“Hood is hurt!” Both turned to look at the other vigilante, now completely geared up and ready to go. “Was thrown into a building or something. Thank for this, I owe you one, bye~”

He made a run for the window, but she caught him just as he passed by her. Jazz saw the moment she used a bit too much strength because Red Robin glanced at her hand on his arm with raised eyebrows.

Damn it. She tried so hard to not be suspicious.

“You. Be careful and don’t rip the stitches,” she almost heard the eyeroll coming from him. “Go back to the Cave or wherever you guys go when not punching people and get some rest.”

He smirked, but sobered up when his eyes wandered to Hood, who leaned into his line of sight just to be menacing.

“Yes, ma’am.” He did a salute and jumped out of the window. She gave him ten minutes before he ripped a stitch. But fortunately she wasn’t going to deal with that.

“You weren’t kidding about scoundrels coming in through the windows at night.”

“I told you to get a lock for the window. Red Robin-”

“Oh, I was talking about you,” she turned, finding him closer than expected. She had to look up to see him in the eye visor. “Red Robin at least knows how to knock.”

“Do I look like a scoundrel to you?”

She giggled, really wanting to take the helmet off and kiss him right there and then. Damn secret identities. Damn vigilantes and damn her for getting involved in this.

“Are you really okay?” she asked, extending one hand to place it on the side of the red helmet, hoping he understood she wanted to touch his face instead.

“I’ll be fine. Just need to sleep it off.”

“Then go.”

He hummed at her order, the mechanical modulator making it sound almost like a purr. She thought it was cute.

“I don’t want to go,” Jason said, putting one gloved hand over hers. Did he know his gloves had blood on them? She decided to ignore it for the moment, confident that the blood wasn’t his.

“You could stay here, I have a big couch.”

He chuckled at the idea. “I could.” He hummed again. “But how can I be sure that you won’t try to take off the helmet and find out my secret identity?”

Oh. Was he testing the waters?

“You can’t know that for sure, you’d only have my word that I wouldn’t try.”

“Is your word enough, I wonder?”

Was this it? Was he going to say it? “What are you asking, if I would keep your identity a secret?”

“What if I am?” Those were the same words he said when he asked her out. Did he say it on purpose? Was he trying to leave hints so she’d figure it out on her own? Was she supposed to approach him about it and not the other way around?

She looked directly into the eyes of the helmet, trying to send home the message that she was trustworthy. “I’d take the secret to my grave.”

He found this funny, but didn’t say anything. Seconds ticked by as she waited for him to, well, say it, but he kept silent. Waiting. For what? For her to confess first?

And just like that, the moment was gone.

He tensed and put his other hand on that side of the helmet, listening to something - Batman? Were they talking now? She heard a voice coming from inside the helmet but couldn’t discern if it was male or female, or what it was saying.

“I have to go,” he sighed, confirming her fears. The night was not over and the escaped inmates were still roaming through the city.

She had the fleeting thought of helping, if only so he could rest now.

But she wasn’t a hero, and he knew what he was doing.

“See you around, scoundrel.”

“See you.” He chuckled before stepping out of the opened window. “Get that window lock soon.”

“Sure thing.”

He stopped and looked back at her, as if he knew she was just humoring him. “Please, darling.”

She blushed. “Ok.”

Jazz was left in a quiet apartment, the sounds of the chaotic city coming from the opened window. Her kitchen table was a mess and her floor had a few puddles of Red Robin’s blood she needed to clean soon. She looked at her bloodied hand where Jason had gently placed his hands on hers.

She rolled her eyes. This was her life now, huh.

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[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 9

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

NOW WITH ART! -> How Jazz looks like when she knocks on Jason’s door

Companion piece: Jason’s POV of the second half of this chapter.

Context note: Essence, mentioned here, was the daughter of the leader of the All Caste, a hidden sect of warriors that trained Jason in the time before he came back to Gotham as Red Hood. They had an intense relationship, but it ended when he chose his revenge over living with the All Caste.

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

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“You guys KISSED?” 

Jason was very tempted to turn off the comms and just abandon his brother without further explanation.

“I need all the details!”

“No.”

“C’mon Little Wing!” He heard the wind rush and the sounds of his brother jumping around the rooftops. “I’m so invested in your love story, I need this!”

“There’s nothing to tell. Shut up.”

“But you have a date-date, right? Are you guys going out!?”

Telling his brother about the date thing had been a mistake, Jason decided. He thought it would shut him up at once about the stupid family dinner, but it backfired and now he was trying to interrogate him for details, instead of, you know, do their job.

“Yes, it’s a date. I refuse to keep talking about this.”

Dick complained a little more, but yielded, for now. At least he would stop insisting on the family dinner thing-

“By the way, dinner has been postponed.”

Fuck.

“B has been called for some urgent Justice League mission. I mean, officially it is still on for Friday, if the mission goes well then he’s supposed to be back Friday morning. But we all know that nothing is ever that easy.”

Did a god hate him? Did he offend a powerful entity so much that now it was out for his blood? 

“So unofficially family dinner is next Friday, instead of this Friday.” By his pause, his brother knew exactly what he was doing. “And since you guys are going out-”

“Stop. I’m not going to dinner, she’s not going to dinner.” He stopped right where he was. If Dick was going to continue this he was leaving, favor or no favor. “I won���t expose her to this family’s bullshit. She doesn’t deserve-”

“We will be on our best behavior! I promise.”

“It's not about that!” Nightwing kept quiet, probably surprised by the intensity in his voice. “She’s too good for this family, too good for all the vigilante bullshit and the secrets and constipated old men that can’t accept the truth and too good for- for…”

“Too good for you?” The older man said in a soft voice. Jason hated it. He hated that he was treating him like he would crumble down or flee if he raised his voice.

(Would Jazz prefer someone capable of being this soft?)

“I’m not having this conversation with you.” He turned to leave.

Dick didn’t try to talk him down. “I think you are perfect for each other.” He said instead. “And I think she loves you.”

“What the fuck do you know? You haven’t talked to her.”

“Excuse me, I teach her gymnastics.”

Oh right. The Sunday gymnastic classes. She had talked excitedly about them and how cool her teacher was - how patient he was with students and cracked jokes when she faceplanted to make her feel better.

Yeah. He was adult enough to recognize he got a bit jealous, but never got the courage to say that her teacher was his older brother.

(Would she ask him to introduce them properly? No, it didn’t make sense to get jealous. If she wanted to date his brother she could have asked him out already at the classes.)

“You haven’t seen her with me.” He finally grumbled, annoyed by his irrational thoughts.

“But I’ve seen how she looks at you,” Jason scoffed at the reminder that everyone had been spying on their dates. “She always has this spark in her eye when she looks at you and only you. As if you were the only person in the room with her.”

“Smooth.” Dick had always this way with words, the fucker, that people found charming.

(Would Jazz prefer it if he were that good with his words? He asked her out with the most pathetic speech ever. He still can’t understand how she said yes.)

“I’m just telling the truth, Jaybird.”

Was it true? He wanted it to be true. Feeling wanted, like he felt when he was around her, was addictive. He replayed the kiss in his mind again, how she looked him in the eye and asked if that was what he wanted. He could believe desire, he could understand infatuation, he would agree with a crush - but love was much more complex than that.

He had never been in love, but he had felt something close to it once with Essence a long time ago. He had been younger and foolish, and she had given him her attention and touched him like she wanted him. In the end he chose his revenge above everything else and with time and perspective he knew what they experienced wasn’t actually love.

Again, Essence didn’t look at him like Jazz looked at him. Maybe Dick was onto something.

“Robbery in progress, guys. This one is close to Hood.” That was Tim’s voice, who was running comms today. He had connected with the main channel for this patrol only, and the usual buzz was annoying, but it was part of the deal with patrolling with Nightwing.

Neither continued the conversation while the situation was dealt with, or even after that. Dick even quit the jabs about Jazz and their relationship, instead choosing to tell him about what he had done with his life all these years. Jason asked something here or there, but his mind was far away.

Once he was home after patrol, around four in the morning, he stood in silence in his living room still in his suit. Here is where it happened, where he finally took the leap and landed in a relationship with his neighbor. He still didn’t know how it worked - logically, it made sense since both had flirted a lot and had met up plenty of times, their compatibility off the charts. It made sense in his mind, but his heart still couldn’t believe it was real. 

Still…

He glanced at where she had been standing when he came back from cleaning the cut. He saw her eyes glow green for a split second, he was sure. How and why he had no idea, but it was an alarming item in the list of things that didn’t make sense about her. 

Would she tell him her secrets? What kind of secrets were those? Was she a metahuman and was hiding from Batman? Metas weren’t welcomed in Gotham and people thought it was because Batman hated them, even if the truth was much simpler - would you fight a Jokerized Superman? A mind controlled Wonder Woman? Metas were vulnerable in Gotham and a potential danger. 

Even if he explained this to her he wasn’t sure she would like it if he overstepped when she hadn’t shared her secret just yet.

He just… He had to trust her to come to him with the truth.

And then what? Would he show her his suit and confess about his other life? Tell her what he had to actually do on Thursday? That he couldn’t go on dates because he had people to kill, a drug operation to run, a whole bunch of Lieutenants to keep in line?

Would she be horrified? He would understand it if she did, even if it hurts.

Would she ask him to change? Would her love be conditional, after all? If she agreed to be with him at the price of giving up all of this, would he do it?

He shook his head. It was stupid to consider this. Also, he was jumping too ahead of the story, there was no need to lose his mind about something that could just never happen.

One step at a time - first he needed to go on a date with her that Friday. He was tempted to call her and move the date to next Friday out of spite, but then he’d have to explain why.

Whatever. He needed to change out of the suit, shower and then try to sleep. 

The memory of the kiss passed through his mind again. 

Try to sleep. ‘Try’ being the key word.

***

Jazz didn’t sleep. Maybe an hour or two, at most, because there was a moment just before sunrise where she didn’t remember falling asleep. It was a bit after she heard movement in Jason’s apartment, including the sound of the shower turning on. Patrol? Did he have patrol after dinner?

Oh dear, she hoped she didn’t hold him up for something important.

The thing is, she didn’t sleep. And coffee wasn’t a substitute for sleeping. So she went to work feeling like death and not really in the frame of mind to deal with whatever craziness the Asylum had in store for her. 

Sleep deprived as she was, her mind was half rotating yesterday’s kiss and half panicking about her revelation in the bathroom after leaving his apartment.

There were two important sides fighting inside of her, one for each option she had to ponder.

First option: not date Jason. Dating required a lot of work, time, trust and dedication; and while she was a very dedicated person, and when she set her mind on it she could do an insane amount of work, she was aware that starting a relationship with a lie was unhealthy. 

At best, she could damage whatever they had built, all the trust and companionship; at worst, she could get into Red Hood’s shit list and maybe Batman’s too, if Jason decided to put together all the clues on how weird she was and sold her out to the man.

Second option: date Jason. Neither said anything serious for the moment and they only said to try a date and see where it goes for them. There weren’t conversations about long term or compromise or revealing secrets. She could play by ear and sneakily find out if Jason knows about his liminality and maybe help him deal with it in exchange for his forgiveness for lying to him about herself. 

Who knows, she may even get away with it since Red Hood was Danny’s favorite Gotham’s (anti)hero, so he wouldn’t be too mad about her getting distracted from her mission and revealing his secret.

It was around the time she had to go home, feeling like crying from exhaustion, that she decided that fuck it, she was going to date the man. Stand by what she said, date him, and slowly and carefully reveal that there was something different in her, that she knew about him, until he confronted her with the truth. And happily ever after.

Easy. Flawless plan. 

Or maybe after a nap she could think of a better plan. Yes, a nap was a good idea.

She woke from her nap feeling well rested and maybe she dreamt about a certain neighbor and his arms around her, so that’s cool. Not really wanting to give up her dreams, she turned in her bed and looked out of the window, sighing when she saw it was already dark. She had some hours before her usual bedtime, and she could still try some yoga and see if it helped her sleep at a reasonable hour.

She was pondering the pros and cons of getting out of bed to make dinner when she heard it - the living room window was being opened. Her heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was Jason, well, Red Hood, coming to check on her? Maybe he wanted to confess about his identity before their date tomorrow?

The steps were silent, though, quieter than how Hood’s were that time she brought him to her apartment. So it wasn’t him.

Maybe a ghost?

Her ghost sense didn’t activate, but it didn’t work for halfas and liminals in general, so she didn’t trust it at all if it was Vlad or an unknown liminal.

Alright.

She quietly searched under her pillow for her staff, a modified version of the one her mother used. With a click of a button, the staff transformed from its compact form to the combat ready, full-length form.

Her steps were quieter than her intruder as she moved in the shadows, her training kicking in even after so long not needing this amount of stealth. It was like riding a bicycle. If she ever learned to ride one.

The stranger was also in the shadows and with his back to her, but she could see it was male, tall and not Jason. She didn’t hesitate, jumping at the stranger who decided to enter her apartment without permission and bonked him in the head with her staff before he could even turn around to see her.

He fell to the floor, completely out cold.

She sighed and re-contracted the staff, putting it on her kitchen table before crouching to turn around the body. Even with eyes adapted to the dark, she didn’t recognize the silhouette of who had tried to attack her in her own house until she saw his face. 

Nightwing? What the heck?

Jazz groaned. Great, she had attacked one of the vigilantes. Amazing. Fantastic. First she puts a cream that could have done real damage to Red Hood, and now she has an unconscious known associate of Batman’s on her living room floor.

In her defense, people don’t usually sneak in girls' apartments at night without bad intentions. She was acting as any other woman living alone in Gotham would have done. That’s it. She was innocent!

Jazz watched the unconscious body at her feet for a moment, considering her options. What could she do now? Think logically, Jasmine.

She could wait until he woke up, but that meant: deal with having attacked him and how he would react, deal with what he wanted from her since he was in her apartment, and (potentially) deal with other bats or birds coming after her.

Or - she could throw him out of the window and let him sleep it off in the fire escape stairs. Outside was cold, and it felt cruel to just abandon him to the elements, but it was the safest option for her. She was trained and she had her favorite weapon at hand, but she had seen the crazy stuff the bats could do and she wasn’t sure she could fight one on one any of them.

Jazz tentatively kicked the vigilante’s side, jumping back in case he woke up. 

He didn’t.

Also, she was starting to regret hitting him so hard and was thinking about placing him on her sofa and putting a blanket over him. Would he like tea? She couldn’t cook but she knew how to make tea, it was her only redeeming quality according to Danny. Not that he liked tea in general, but he said hers at least didn’t taste like burnt leaves.

Focus on the unconscious vigilante, Jazz. 

There was a loud sound from Jason’s apartment, followed by a curse. He was still at home. Would he know what to do with an unconscious vigilante? She saw them standing together on the roof the other day, so they must at least know each other.

Was Red Hood friends with the bats? They were not enemies, since Batman stopped chasing after him, that’s for sure. She wanted to ask what was the story behind the cease fire.

But she couldn’t until he told her about his identity himself. Ugh! This was so annoying.

Focus.

Jason was at home. She could just walk over there and ask what to do in case you have a passed out vigilante at your home, you know, the usual. Or maybe she could ask him if he could come over real quick and help her with something? 

Both options made her seem so suspicious, though. Even if he weren’t Red Hood and wasn’t trained to expect traps and such, a normal person wouldn’t just brush off something like that.

Okay. She could go there and explain the situation, ask if he wanted to help and then ask if he could come over to help with the situation.

Their kiss from yesterday flashed in her mind, the feeling of his lips on hers vivid in her memory.

She groaned into her hands. Not the moment for this, Jasmine. She had time for an existential crisis after dealing with Nightwing.

Bracing herself, she walked to the door and opened it, her eyes adapting to the bright hallway. It was easy, she only needed to drop completely unannounced and ask her neighbor, who was secretly a vigilante but she wasn’t supposed to know, to deal with a passed out Nightwing in her living room.

Wait, were they friends? Would he get angry at her for attacking a friend?

She was overthinking this. She just needed to go over there and ask.

Bracing herself again, Jazz stepped into the hallway-

What if Nightwing woke up while she was bothering her neighbor? What if he went to her apartment to snoop around and steal something? What if he came here to investigate her-

She did a one-eighty and marched back to the still unconscious vigilante. She had to carry him, there was no way he could be left alone in her apartment, no matter how brief her asking Jason for help would be. 

Jazz hesitated. Carrying him wasn’t a problem for her - one of the perks of her liminality was the strength and she knew she could lift the man, no problem. It was that, well… 

She blushed. 

For the longest time, Jazz has had a crush on the hero. Since he started making headlines, she latched onto the celebrity hero like a teenager with a crush because she was a teenager with a crush. She had a brief career as a fanclub president for a moment there; but after a while she decided that she needed to “grow up” and ripped all her posters from the walls and stored them in a box. The box was still hidden in her childhood room’s closet, to never be seen by anybody.

And now she had the chance to touch him. It felt surreal. It also felt kinda wrong to feel her heart flutter as she knelt and grabbed the hero’s arm and leg to pull him into a fireman’s carry. 

If only the people that wrote all that NightwingxReader fanfiction back in the day saw her now.

Jazz shook her head, thinking about her - uh, were they dating? Jason was her boyfriend, right? Ugh, they really needed to talk about that. Not now though, as she was going to carry a passed out man to his apartment.

Now feeling guilty for hitting the vigilante AND feeling weird for remembering her celebrity crush on him, Jazz marched back out and was soon ringing the doorbell of Jason’s place.

She heard his heavy steps approach the door and stop without asking who was there. He was probably looking at her through the peephole, so she smiled awkwardly at it.

“Hey.” Jazz shifted her grip on the man around her shoulders so she could secure him with one hand, using the other to wave.

Jason opened his door.

“Hello???” His eyes were of the unconscious vigilante instead of on her. 

Good thing, because he wasn’t wearing a shirt and it was a bit distracting. She wasn’t expecting to see that today. Also, he had so many scars, that it was difficult for her to not stare. 

“I can explain.”

His only response was to slowly blink and then start laughing. Jazz stood there awkwardly in the hallway, very aware of the absurdity of the situation, and very aware that Nightwing could wake up at any moment and she didn’t want it to be while he was on her person.

“Please, tell me what happened,” Jason finally said, stepping away from the door to let her and her cargo in, “and spare no detail.”

Relieved, she went into the apartment, vaguely remembering the comment about vampires and needing permission to enter. She was not a vampire, that was Vlad’s shtick, thank you very much.

“Wait, I need to take a photo.” He stopped her before she could let the vigilante down on the sofa. 

“Why?”

“To remember this moment?” By his smirk as he grabbed the phone and opened the camera app, his motivations weren’t those exactly. 

Yeah, these two were friends.

She weakly smiled at the camera, not really sure what she looked like after having a sleepless night, a horrible day at work and a nap. Her hair was probably all over the place.

“Ok. Explain.”

Jazz let the body drop on the sofa and sighed. 

“Broke into my apartment. I got scared and just… hit him.”

Jason’s smile got bigger. “And he let you?”

“Um, he didn’t see me.”

“And you just hit him?”

“Yeah. Bonked him in the head.”

If Jazz had to describe the way he looked at her, she would use words like “heart eyes” and “lovesick”. She blushed and looked away, noticing the guns and the holsters on the kitchen island they had dinner in, ready to be strapped to his legs before going out and doing vigilante things.

She acted as if she didn’t see anything and turned back to Jason checking on Nightwing, poking him here and there.

“He seems fine to me.”

“I didn’t hit that hard,” he glanced at her with an eyebrow raised, as if he knew better. Had he seen her make unnatural displays of strength? She had been careful, or at least she had tried to. “Anyway, can you help me or not?”

He blinked slowly. “With what.”

Jazz narrowed her eyes. “About Nightwing?”

“You want me to get rid of the body?” He sounded confused but highly amused by the whole situation.

“What? No!”

“Because I can get rid of-”

“-m not dead.”

“Oh great, the princess awakens.” 

“Shut up Jaybird.” He grumbled, trying to sit up on the sofa.

Alright. Ok. This is fine. Nightwing knew Jason out of his suit, and probably viceversa, but neither knew she knew.

It was time for her to go, before she made things worse.

"Okay, I see everything's fine, then." She laughed nervously, pointedly not looking at the costumed vigilante. "Thanks, Jay. See you tomorrow?"

"Huh-" 

She didn't give him time to process the reality of the situation, kissing him on the cheek and patting his shoulder. Being this close, she noticed a big scar on his chest - one line from each shoulder to the sternum and then down all the way to his belly button. She didn’t comment on it, but stored the information for another moment where she wasn't running away from an awkward situation.

"Bye ~"

With that, she did a very familiar escape from Jason's apartment. Twice in less than twenty four hours, huh? What was it about Jason's place that made her run away like this?

As she closed the door, she glimpsed at the shirtless vigilante clearly wearing Red Hood's pants and glaring at Nightwing, who was looking at her. Maybe. He had those whiteout lenses, so it was difficult to discern.

Back safe and sound in her apartment, Jazz took a moment to breathe. 

Ok. That was something that happened. She was ready for today to end, but was scared about what tomorrow had in store for her.

She prayed to anybody that listened for her date to be uneventful. Please. Just one good date. Was that too much to ask?

She realized too late that with her Fenton luck, she probably just jinxed herself.

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