Chapter Text
The founding members of the Justice League–minus Batman–are assembled in the rec room. Not because there’s a serious threat that requires them to work together. They’re staring at a small figure making her away around the small kitchen.
She’s dressed in a burgundy and black suit and has a black domino mask plastered to her face. Batman had introduced her as Red Robin and said she was a trustworthy ally who would be upgrading the Watchtower’s security before disappearing to do...whatever Batman did when he wasn’t at the Watchtower.
Aquaman and Green Lantern, who had been the only ones at the Watchtower when Batman had introduced Red Robin had immediately called the other heroes who couldn’t believe that Batman, the most secretive person in the Justice League, had someone he trusted and had quickly arrived at the Watchtower to see for themselves.
They had spent most the day loitering around the Watchtower and catching glimpses of Red Robin every now and then. They also spent a considerable amount of time talking about Red Robin. Wonder Woman, Superman, and Flash had briefly met her because she was on Young Justice with Wonder Girl, Superboy, and Impulse, but weren’t very familiar with her and didn’t know she was affiliated with Batman.
Red Robin seats herself at the round table with a yawn, a steaming mug in hand.
Superman joins her at the table and thinks about how to start a conversation. Maybe how she and Batman know each other? Or should I ask how long she’s been working with Batman? Oh, but is that too weird? To start a conversation with a question about Batman?
Red Robin blows on her tea before taking a sip and blinks at it. “So this is what chamomile tea tastes like.”
Superman smiles. A conversation starter! “Your first time drinking chamomile tea?”
“No, I’ve had it before,” Timi answers. “Pretty frequently actually. But it’s always slightly bitter because it’s drugged.”
Superman’s smile freezes. “What?”
“So I didn’t know what chamomile tea actually tasted like until now.”
There’s a moment of silence from the Justice League. The conversation had barely begun but it had already taken an unexpected turn.
“You frequently drink drugged chamomile tea?” Martian Manhunter finally asks.
“Yup,” She answers. “The... hmm, the butler, Penny-One, gives me drugged tea every now and then.”
“The butler drugs your tea,” Green Lantern states after a brief silence.
“Mmmm.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Wonder Woman asks. She may have not been human herself, but even she was certain that drinking drugged tea was not the norm.
“Of course. Don’t worry–” she says, as if that would help! “–it’s just a sedative.”
The League looks amongst themselves, not sure exactly how to react. Red Robin’s tone was one of indifference, as if what she was saying was not concerning, but a normal matter instead. Her blasé attitude itself was another point of worry.
“You’re aware the butler puts sedatives in your tea. And you still choose to drink it?” Superman finally asks.
Red Robin stares at him, affronted. “Of course I drink it. What type of barbarian do you think I am? I wouldn’t want to hurt Penny-One’s feelings.”
The League is speechless. They just stare at Red Robin.
“He’d be very hurt and offended if I refuse,” she continues when she notices the League doesn’t seem to understand her perfectly logical reasoning. “Penny-One takes great pride in his job, particularly his culinary skills and making the perfect cup of tea.”
“You drink sedated tea because he’s very proud of his tea and you don’t want to hurt your butler’s feelings...” Flash trails off.
“He’s not my butler,” Red Robin says.
As if that makes it any better! In fact, that makes it worse! Red Robin is drinking sedated tea from someone else’s butler!
“He works for Batman,” she adds.
Batman has a butler. Batman has paid for a lot of their gear and for the Watchtower. Green Lantern and I were speculating he was wealthy, so him having a butler does make sense, a small part of Flash’s brain registers. Wait. That's not the point right now.
“Batman’s butler sedates your tea,” Aquaman amends.
“That’s literally what I just said,” Red Robin says, still oblivious to the worry she’s causing. “You know, for a group of heroes, you guys are pretty slow on the uptake.”
The League stares. They were being insulted by someone who knowingly drank sedated tea in order not to hurt Batman’s butler’s feelings.
“Is Batman aware of his butler sedating you?” Martian Manhunter finally asks, deciding to ignore the second part, for now at least.
“Of course he knows,” Red Robin pouts petulantly. “He’s such a snitch, he’s the one who rats me out to Penny-One half the time.”
Flash’s face contorted. He didn’t know whether he should continue to be horrified that Red Robin was knowingly drinking tea that was drugged by Batman’s butler with Batman knowledge or whether he should laugh at Batman being called a snitch.
“Batman snitches on you...” Green Lantern parrots.
“A lot,” Red Robin says, nodding like a bobble-head as if to emphasize her point. “I’ll be working on a super important case and only on hour 63 without sleep and he’s already selling me out to Penny-One. It sucks. He should at least wait until hour 76 when I start hallucinating.”
There is complete silence and Red Robin uses the moment to take a sip of her tea.
“I was under the understanding that metas weren’t allowed in Gotham?” Martian Manhunter inquires once Red Robin’s latest concerning sentence finally sinks in.
“That’s correct,” Red Robin tilts her head, as if wondering why the topic suddenly changed.
“And you are human?” he questions.
“Yes.”
“...I was told that humans need eight hours of sleep each 24-hour day.”
“That’s just a myth,” Red Robin claims.
“Ummm, no,” Flash interjects. “That is definitely not a myth.”
Red Robin is wearing a domino with white lens for eyes, but even with the mask on, it's somehow clear that she’s rolling her eyes. “That’s what they want you to think. It’s an obvious lie since you can clearly survive with less.”
The Justice League suddenly understands the butler’s plight. They had mistakenly concluded that the butler was the villain. But in reality, he was just trying to keep Red Robin from dying a premature death by sleep deprivation.
Superman, like Wonder Woman, wasn't a human either, but he was well aware how important sleep was for humans. “You might not see an immediate effect, but in the long term, not getting enough sleep can have major consequences,” he recites from a book on humans he’d read.
Red Robin snorts. “I highly doubt I’ll live long enough to see the long term consequences.”
“W-What?” Green Lantern manages to ask.
“I’m from Gotham,” she explains. “I live in a city where not even civilians expect to die peacefully of old age. We literally have explosions and shootings every week. If less than ten people die, it doesn’t even make the news.”
“Ah..." Aquaman makes a choked sound of understanding.
“Not to mention,” she continues, “I’m also a vigilante. A vigilante in Gotham. I’m not going to live a very long life.”
One again, the League is rendered speechless. Technically, what Red Robin is saying is... true ...
“And considering Ra’s sends ninjas after me every other week, I’d be lucky if I make it to thirty.”
Superman wants to let that go. He really wants to let that go. Don’t do it Clark. Don’t ask. Whatever you do. Do. Not. Ask.
He asks. “Ra’s? Ra’s al Ghul?”
“The one and only,” Red Robin says with a sigh. “Like did I blow up all his bases? Yes. Did I destroy decades of his work? Yes. Did I keep him from taking over Gotham? Also yes. But it was not my fault he started it!”
The Justice League blinks and Red Robin drinks the rest of her chamomile tea. “Pretty good, but coffee is still the best,” she concludes.
They watch wordlessly as Red Robin puts her mug in the dishwasher and gets a can of coffee from the vending machine.
“Anyways, I finished the security upgrade, so I’m going to get going now.” She pauses to pop the can and gulps down the entire thing. She grabs three more cans of coffee and two energy drinks from the vending machine before she heads off in the direction of the Zeta-Tubes.
“Gothamites,” Flash concludes, as if that explained everything. In a way, it did.
“Gothamites,” Aquaman agrees.
.
.
.
to be continued...
[extra: alfred]
Timi has just opened her laptop and started doing work for WE after changing into an oversized sweater and fuzzy Nightwing socks that were a gift from Steph when the doorbell rings.
She frowns. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She pulls up her security feed to Alfred standing on her doorstep. And he’s holding a thermos in hand.
Timi briefly thinks about climbing out her window and making a run for it. But it’s Alfred . If it were literally anyone else, it might have worked. With a resigned sigh, she closes her laptop and pats it. Maybe she could talk her way out of it?
She opens her front door to see Alfred’s bright smile. Timi gulps, but manages a stiff smile. “Alfred, it’s great to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too Miss Timothi,” he answers, making his way into the kitchen. “You missed dinner last night.”
Timi freezes for a second before managing a weak laugh. “I was doing a security upgrade for the Watchtower and it completely slipped my mind.”
“Is that so?” Alfred asks, pulling out a mug from one of the cabinets. “I recall reminding you of dinner before you and Master Bruce left the manor. And Miss Timothi–”
Timi pities her past self who thought she could talk her way out of this. At least she was able to pat her laptop goodbye...
“–you have a tendency to forget reminders when you’re stressed,” Alfred says, pouring the contents of the thermos into the mug.
It’s all over now...
“I’ve made some chamomile tea for you. It will help you relax,” he adds, pushing the mug into Timi’s hands.
“Thank you Alfred,” Timi manages, still smiling even though she’s crying on the inside.
She was supposed to finish reading the report from R&D today. Tam was going to disembowel her.
Under Alfred’s watchful gaze, she drinks the tea. Huh. It’s more bitter than normal.
Alfred smiles in satisfaction. “I shall leave you to get back to work, Miss Timothi. I do expect to see you at dinner next week,” he says and leaves with the empty thermos.
Timi decides not to bother going back to her office. She flops onto her sofa and decides to channel surf until the chamomile tea kicks in.
Not even two minutes later, Timothi Drake is fast asleep.