Cass sat on the rafters while Dick and Tim chattered beneath her. They hadn’t noticed her come in, so she sat by herself, swinging her boots back and forth in the emptiness, following along. Dick sat on a fraying couch while Tim bounced around him, telling a story about chasing a gunman by the docks. He paced around the room and ducked behind the furniture to demonstrate, laughing the entire time.

There were words too, of course. Cass could hear them just fine, even if she didn’t recognize them. She tried closing her eyes, listening carefully, but Tim talked too fast, and there were too many words, and she could hear him moving around, anyway: across the room, behind the couch, springing over it to mime surprising the gunman. The movement alone told her everything she needed to know.

It was… Cass didn’t know the word to describe it, but it felt like being lost in the alleyways that spanned the city, turning the same corners over and over again without moving any further. It was black and heavy, and it made her body ache.

Dick didn’t laugh like that with her. No one did. No one sat with her or leaned towards her or even brushed by her in tight spaces. Tim’s eyes followed her around rooms, and Cass knew it wasn’t malicious. She moved too silently, and she startled him often. It didn’t happen if he knew where she was.

Still. He didn’t watch the others. It didn’t matter that Bruce was quiet too.

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whore4batfam:

whore4batfam:

Brucie Wayne. Multi-billionaire. The media’s darling. Patron of Gotham City. ~~Womanizer.~~

Bruce Wayne hasn’t been seen with a young model on his arm for forever, it seems. But after all that time, what has changed?

Simple, really.

“And who might this hot toddy be? Share, won’t you, Brucie?“

Bruce chokes on his drink. Dennis Faber, resident playboy since ‘98 and fellow Princeton graduate, is leering at Cassandra. Cass is taking it in stride, smiling politely if uncertainly.

Bruce, however, is NOT.

“This is my daughter,” he growls in a scandalized undertone.

Dennis gulps. His eyes widen and he steps back. “I-I see,” he stammers. He considers this for a moment, then collects himself and smiles winningly. “You’re eighteen though, right?” he addresses Cassandra.

Bruce doesn’t even think. He steps forward.

In a blink of an eye Dennis has collected his date, keys, and overcoat and is GONE.

Bruce clenches his fist, teeth painfully gritted. Cassandra hovers behind him. He takes a breath. It wouldn’t do to lose his temper now. He turns around to look at her, wilting a little because she never should have been there to suffer through that.

The girl is pursing her lips thoughtfully. “I,” Cassandra announces after a moment, “am a hot toddy.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” And Bruce is at her side, sad and sympathetic. “No, you are not,” he tells her, looking into her dark eyes. “You are my daughter, a fiercely talented individual, and a young woman deserving respect.“

Cassandra is silent. She looks up into Bruce’s eyes, nods a little. “Yeah…”

Bruce exhales in relief.

Then Cass smirks. “And a hot toddy.”

Bruce balks as she sashays off. He closes his eyes. Nothing will be the same ever again.

Ring ring!

“No, don’t, Cassie, pleas–”

“Wayne Residence, hot toddy speaking.”

“Cass that’s Gotham Hearth and Home Magazine!”