Chapter Text
“So, Kitten, what do you think?”
The Tim-like creature staring back at him from the mirror is as red as a tomato, and the only reason he even half believes what he's seeing is because he can feel a matching burn on his own cheeks.
“Um.”
Oh no, its mouth moved when I spoke. That really is me...
“It's a little...um. Tight?”
Understatement of the century.
The Cat suit he's wearing—the literal Cat suit, why did I ever let her do this—is molded to his body like a second skin, hugging every curve his scrawny frame has. Not that there's many of them. And standing next to Selina wearing her Cat suit just makes his utter lack of anything resembling a waist or a chest even more apparent.
Not that I want a chest. Nope. No way. It's already embarrassing enough being a boy and wearing cat ears and skintight leather with a tail. The last thing I need is anything that even looks like cleavage.
“Nonsense,” Selina scoffed. “It fits. You only think it's tight because you're used to wearing clothes three sizes too big.”
She places her hands on his shoulders and leans over him, presumably to get a closer look at mirror-Tim. Unfortunately, that means her chest is pressed right against the back of his neck, pushing his head forward and changing the color of his face from tomato to the surface of a red giant, complete with to-scale temperature increase.
“Se—lina...”
In the mirror, Selina's face does a bit of its own darkening as she realizes what she's doing to him. It's fascinating, watching Catwoman blush in a suggestive situation—or, it would have been, if Tim wasn't the other half of the situation in question.
(He's never been more glad that he isn't attracted to older women. If he was, there is no way he'd be able to hide it in this thing)
“Sorry, Kitten,” she says and takes a step back.
“S'okay,” Tim mutters. He makes a show of stretching out his neck, which earns him a gentle smack on the back of the head and a very obvious eye roll. He meets her eyes in the mirror and grins, which gets him a rueful smile and does a lot to get both of their wayward blushes under control.
“Seriously though,” Selina says a moment later. “What do you think of the suit?”
Tim grimaces internally. He really, really doesn't want to give himself a once over wearing what amounts to a fetish suit, but he does realize this is entirely his fault. Selina would have been more than happy to keep his involvement with their nighttime activities limited to hacking security systems and helping her plan her heists; Tim was the one who wanted to go out with her.
“Come on, Selina! What's the point of all that training if I'm never gonna get to use it?”
“'All that training' is because you're much too pretty to be coming home from school with black eyes all the time. Not so you could follow me around and spy on me and Daddy Bats getting frisky.”
Tim rolled his eyes. “Please, like you'd do anything like that in front of me. Besides, if I want to see Bruce Wayne's butt all I'd have to do is pick up a tabloid.”
Since, like most of the humiliating situations Tim found himself in, this was one hundred percent his fault, he decided he might as well take it seriously. He studied himself in the mirror, ignoring the way he looked like a refugee from a furry convention, and inspected his suit.
It really did fit him like a second skin, but it was also surprisingly stretchy for a material that looked like leather. The whole thing was black, partly because it helped with stealth and partly because Tim had a secret emo side that rarely raised its head but wouldn't let Tim be caught dead in the kind of wine pink colored things that Selina usually wore as Catwoman. He'd foregone the hood at Selina's suggestion (“Trust me Kitten, cowl-head is not fun to deal with. Plus, your hair's so straight and pretty, it'd be a shame to cover it up.”) and instead wore a cat ear headband—gotta stay on brand—and a high tech set of goggles that functioned as a makeshift mask as well as a kick ass tactical display. He had no idea where Selina got it, or why she didn't use it herself, but it had the latest nightvision tech, six different kinds of non-visible spectrum detection, a GPS, a built in high definition camera (picture and video), tactical HUD with targeting software that linked directly to his wrist mounted tranq dart launchers (that he definitely wasn't going to call the Kitty Claws, no matter what Selina said), communication software that could tap into nearly any comm network that didn't have military grade security, and an internet connection. The only downside was that they looked like a sleek, yet somehow still bulky, set of cat's eye glasses.
(Which, come to think of it, is probably why Selina had them in the first place.)
There was even an optional cup he could add that not only kept the skintight suit from broadcasting his religion to the world at large, but made his bulge look bigger. As a 14 year old boy who was sometimes confused with a 12 year old girl, it gave his oft battered male dignity a much appreciated boost. Or, it would if he actually wore it. He made a mental note to do that next time.
“I think it will work great,” he said. He met Selina's eyes in the mirror and smiled. “I like it.”
Selina smiled one her her rare, genuine smiles. “Glad to hear it, Kitten.”
“So,” Tim said, turning around to face his mentor/sort-of-adopted-second-mother. “When do I get to go out?”
“When you can take me down in a fight nine times out of ten,” Selina said firmly.
Tim's shoulders slumped. “I'm going to be stuck here until I'm fifty.”
“And steal three things off me during the day without getting caught.”
“Sixty five.”
Thankfully, it only took Tim another three months to meet Selina's conditions. Which meant the much anticipated debut of Stray came to Gotham right after Tim finished up his midterms.
“Hey Catboy, get stuck in any trees lately?”
Not that anybody seems to know that's my name...
Tim turned away from the jewelry store he was casing (hey, even soon-to-be infamous thieves had to start somewhere) and found himself face to face with Robin.
Tim's heart did a little thing where it both flipped in place and sank deep into the dark recesses of his stomach.
Ohmigod, that's Robin! Okay. Okay Tim, you can do this. You've prepared for this. This...this is just Jason Todd, the boy you've been idolizing and low-key crushing on since you realized why you keep staring at Johnathon Taylor Thomas when you and Selina watch old Home Improvement reruns. This isn't even the first time you've gone up against Robin. Remember Gino's Chilidogs? Actually, no, wait, we're never thinking about that again. This is the first time you've ever met Robin because that night never happened. This is your chance to make a real first impression. No big deal at all. It could be worse. This could be Batman. Just stick to your training and remember: What would Selina do?
Selina would slink and tease and throw Robin off guard with suggestive comments and a well timed smirk. Tim could do this. He'd trained for this.
Okay Tim. Time to throw on the charm.
“Hey Birdie,” he purred. “Going my way?”
Robin raised an eyebrow. “What way? We're both standing on the same roof.”
Tim blushed. Oh crap. Abort. Abort! No more talking, do a sexy pose.
Tim cocked his hip and tried to lean seductively against the wall of the taller neighboring building that pressed up against the side of the building Tim was on. He realized the building was on the other side of the roof right about the same time he realized nothing was stopping him as he went crashing to the floor of the roof with a high pitched yelp.
Even behind the white out lenses of his domino, Tim could see Robin judging his entire life.
“You okay?” Robin asked.
“Peachy.” Tim gave him a thumbs up. He splayed out on his back and closed his eyes. “When you arrest me, can you tell the cops we had an epic fight, with lots of complicated martial arts moves and at least one near escape? Please?”
Robin stared at him for a long moment, then began to laugh.
Oh, good. Three weeks into my career as a super villain and Robin's laughing at me. Again. And I thought the skintight leather was going to be the most humiliating part of this whole thing...
“Kill me now,” Tim moaned. “End my existence.”
Robin leaned over him, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Sorry Kitty, Batman doesn't kill.”
“You're not Batman?” Tim said hopefully.
“You're funny,” Robin said.
Tim did jazz hands.
“Cute, too.”
Tim made a noise that sounded like a cross between a dying whale and a car failing to turn over. Robin laughed again.
“Fucking adorable, actually.” Then, before Tim could suck in enough air to make another unfortunate sound, he held out his hand. “Come on, I'll help you up.”
Tim stared at the offered hand in equal parts trepidation and fascination. “Is this where you slap on the cuffs?” he asked.
“Nah. No cuffs. We got zipties for that. Much more economical. And no one gives you weird looks when you buy zipties in bulk.” Robin shot Tim a cheeky grin. “But if you want handcuffs, I'm sure I can scrounge some—”
Tim's wrist shot up, and a second later a small tranq dart was sticking out of Robin's neck. The look of confusion barely had time to form on his face before he collapsed.
Tim closed his eyes.
At least he didn't fall on me. Score one for Catboy.
Tim did jazz hands again.
This time, Tim heard the soft footfalls on the rooftop before the other boy spoke.
“You shot me!”
Tim ducked to the side to avoid the blow, came up on the balls of his feet...and realized Robin hadn't actually tried to hit him.
“You were going to arrest me,” Tim said with as much dignity as he could muster. “I had to do something.”
“I wasn't going to arrest you! I was trying to help you up.”
“You were talking about zipties and handcuffs!”
“I was flirting with you!”
Tim tripped and fell off the building.
“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Selina clucked as she stood over Tim's hospital bed. She's probably the only person in the world who would say that with such undisguised disappointment. “I can see I've been neglecting a very important part of your training.”
Tim stared at the ceiling. Maybe, if he wished hard enough, it would fall on him and put him out of his misery.
“You could have at least waited until he kissed you before you fell off a two story building.”
Tim's heart monitor began wheezing. He was 87% sure he saw the EKG lines tying themselves into knots out of the corner of his eye.
“You're lucky Daddy Bats called me when your little bird told him what happened. And you're even luckier I have the extensive connections I've cultivated over the years. Those are the only reasons you're in this hospital upstate instead of sitting in Gotham General with your pretty face exposed for all to see. Or even worse, in that dreadful cave.”
Tim's breath caught.
“You've been in the cave?” he asked in breathless awe.
Selina dropped her head into her palm.
When Tim Drake was 12 years old, Catwoman found him spying on Batman and Robin.
To this day Tim still isn't sure why she never told anyone. They barely spoke that first night, aside from a few pointed questions about who Tim might be working for, followed by nearly a full minute of laughter when she realized, no, he's just doing this because he's an obsessed fanboy and, yes, he's been doing this since he was nine. After that, she patted him on the head, warned him about the loose railing on the fire escape he was going to use to get down, and disappeared into the night.
They ran into each other occasionally after that. Not every night. Heck, not even every week. But it happened often enough that Tim began to suspect she was checking in on him on purpose.
“It took you this long to figure it out?” Catwoman asked when Tim confronted her about it. “I thought the snacks I've been bringing would have been a dead giveaway.”
Tim had blushed and mumbled, “I thought you had them to feed stray cats” around a mouthful of Crocky Crunch Bar.
Catwoman gave him a fond look. “I do.”
And that was pretty much it. Catwoman stayed with him the entire night as he followed Batman and Robin around, which, admittedly, worried Tim at first. What if she was using him to find them, so she could do something evil to them?
But to Tim's surprise, she spent more time watching Tim than Batman. Then, when Tim was done for the night, instead of leaving him to get home on his own, Catwoman decided to walk him.
“Um. Catwoman? This isn't the way to my house...”
“Hush, Kitten. We're taking a short cut.”
“Oh. But...this goes in the opposite direction?”
“Hmmm. Interesting.”
And that was how Tim found himself on Selina Kyle's doorstep for the very first time.
If there was anything creepier than an empty museum at night, Tim hadn't found it yet. All the unlit displays seemed to watch him as he slinked by, and the cavernous halls and open rooms magnified even the smallest sound. Or, they would, if Tim made any noise. Which he didn't. Because he was an expert thief.
(In training)
Though, he was starting to think he was more advanced in his training than Selina thought. For all that the Gotham Museum of Art was a museum filed with valuable art in the middle of Gotham City, the security was kind of easy to get past. Only three guards—armed but so not dangerous, at least not to anything that wasn't a jelly donut—and an easily hacked computer system where nearly the entire security grid was all linked in one central partition. It had taken Tim ten minutes to set up the feedback loops so every video feed showed a static shot of their viewing area from twenty minutes before Tim slipped in through a window on the third floor. And now here he was, walking through the museum like it was his own personal collection, slowly creeping closer to his target.
The Jewels of the World exhibit seemed like it was tailor made to entice and trap thieves, but all of Tim's recon showed that not even Batman was paying it any special interest. It took Tim all of eight minutes to cut open the display cases with his new pair of diamond tipped claw gloves and clean the whole exhibit out. Even so, Tim's heart raced with exhilaration.
Who would have thought stealing things would be so fun?
With his small pack filled with illicitly acquired goods secured firmly to his back, he was about to make his way to his exfil point when he hesitated. He really should stick to the plan. That was the smart thing to do...
But there was something here Tim had been dying to see.
What would Selina do?
With a grin, Tim reversed direction and went deeper into the dark depths of the museum. Five minutes later he was staring up at the most famous woman in the world, her lidded eyes and secretive smile even more breathtaking from five feet away than Tim could have ever imagined.
I can't believe I'm this close. I could reach out and touch it if I wanted.
Well, the bulletproof glass it was kept behind, at least. Still, just with his naked eye, Tim spotted three different ways he could steal it if he wanted to. And that was without disabling the alarm, which was the only one powered by a separate system.
Too bad there's literally no way to fence it. He stared at it for ten more minutes, then shook his head. What kind of idiot actually okayed loaning the Mona Lisa to a museum in Gotham?
“You gonna steal that anytime soon?”
Tim spun around, falling into a defensive crouch at the sudden, and familiar, voice. Robin leaned against the doorway to the display room, his arms crossed and a small smirk on his lips. “Or did you just break in to have a nice long look?”
He's not attacking.
Tim relaxed slightly.
Okay. He's just talking. You can do this. This is what Selina's been training you for, right? Get him off guard and then escape. It's not that hard. Just...be alluring.
“Well,” Tim said, drawing the word out teasingly. “It is a shame how quickly they ferry people through here. Twenty seconds isn't nearly enough time with her, you know?”
“Yeah?” Robin's grin was absolutely filthy. “You like to take your time with the ladies, Catboy?”
“Stray,” Tim snapped. No! Remember what Selina said. Don't give your target the upper hand. If they push, you push further. Find where their comfort zone is and pull them out of it before they even know what's happening. That's the way to enthrall men. “And I like to take my time with everyone.”
He placed his hands on his nonexistent hips, splaying his fingers out and casually stroking the front of his pelvic area, trying his best to make the motion look like it was something Tim was doing unconsciously, and not something he'd practiced in the mirror for two weeks while Selina stood behind him silently judging his lack of anything approaching natural sensuality.
“Oh yeah?” Robin pushed off the doorway and came into the room.
Tim had never really gotten a good, up close look at Robin before, not in decent lighting at least, so it was entirely understandable that his brain immediately crashed when he got his first look at those thighs.
Guh. Oh...my God. They're even thicker than I thought. And so defined! I had no idea the human thigh even had that much muscle. No, stop staring! Focus, Tim. He's coming closer—oh my God those are his bare thighs! I thought Bruce would have at least made him wear some kind of nylon—which, double guh—but those are just out there for anyone to see....or touch...
“And just what do you do with all these people that takes so long?” Robin asked as he slinked—slinked—towards Tim.
“Guh,” Tim said.
“What was that, kitty?”
Oh God, that's not a slink, that's a stalk. He's stalking towards me like a panther...oh my God, Selina! Why did you make me watch all those cat documentaries?!
“Thighs,” Tim said. Unfortunately, his mouth had literally been watering as Robin stalked towards him--that's not even a human reaction to finding someone attractive, what the heck, me??--so, while the word might have been distorted by the saliva in his mouth, the dribble that was now dripping down Tim's chin was all too visible.
On the plus side, Tim turning into a drooling, incoherent mess stopped Robin in his tracks.
“Huh?”
Tim snapped out of his daze and quickly wiped his mouth. His face was burning, and the stupid goggles did nothing to hide how red he was getting.
“Lies!” Tim yelled.
Robin actually took a step back.
Oh God, he must think I'm...actually I have literally no idea what he could possibly think I am. Surely not even Batman could prepare someone for meeting as big a human disaster as me...
“I said lies,” Tim said. “Um. You're lying.”
“About...what?”
“Exactly!” Tim pointed to him. “Just like that.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Robin muttered, just loud enough for Tim to hear.
He's on the ropes! You did it! Quick, go for the kill!
Tim's last lesson with Selina suddenly popped into his head.
“You've got a nice, lean, limber body, so remember to use it. When you've got your little birdie eating out of the palm of your hand, stretch up against the nearest wall and stick your butt out.”
“What butt?” Tim muttered bitterly.
“I padded the suit a bit,” Selina said. “Just stick it out. Trust me. He won't be able to look away. That's when you go for the kill,; toss a suggestive good-bye over your shoulder and make your escape with your prize.”
“Time for the kill,” Tim said to himself.
He turned towards the wall, twisting his hips a bit as he did...
Only to realize two things in very quick succession.
-
He was quite a bit further away from the wall than he thought.
-
He was still standing right in front of the Mona Lisa
Tim tried to save himself, but his hips were still doing their best to shimmy and he was too off balance. He could do nothing except watch with a strange, detached horror as he tripped and faceplanted right into the bulletproof glass box that protected the Mona Lisa.
CRACK!
“Oh, shit,” Robin said as Tim bounced off the glass and went crashing to the floor.
“Ow.”
A minute later, the pain from what he belatedly realized was a very broken nose blazed to life.
“Ow!!”
Tim clutched his bleeding proboscis.
“Oh, fuck,” Robin said. “Are you okay?”
“Wuh duh ih loo' liuh?!” Tim snarled. “My dose ih broken!”
“Holy shit. Uh.” Robin froze. “Okay. Shit. Wait, hang on, I have first aid stuff in my—”
MREEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! MREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! MREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!
The alarm sprang to life, cutting Robin off. Seconds later, several loud CLANGS could be heard as security gates dropped all around the museum, including the ones blocking each exit to the Mona Lisa room.
They stared at each other in slowly mounting dread.
“Oh, shit.” Robin started pulling Tim up.
“Ow! Wait! Ow! You' hurding me!”
“Stop struggling!”
“Stop hurding me!”
“We need to get you out of here before the cops show up!”
“Be??” Tim slurred. “Wud aboud 'ou? Badman wih kih 'ou!”
“B's been mad at me before. He'll get over it,” Robin said. “You're the one I'm worried about. You're way too pretty, kitty. You wouldn't last a minute in jail.”
“Hey! I...” Tim's brain caught up with Robin's words. “'Ou 'ink I'm pretty?”
How the hell can there still be enough blood inside Tim's face to blush?
“As a peach,” Robin said, taking advantage of Tim's distraction to pull him to his feet. “But that voice is killing me.” He studied Tim's face for a moment, then bit his lip. His very plush, very pink, lip. “You'll thank me for this later.”
He began softly running his fingers along Tim's face.
“Wh—OWWW!”
Tim screamed as Robin snapped his broken nose back into place.
“That hurt you prick!”
Robin grinned. “But now it'll heal up good and you'll keep that pretty face of yours.”
Tim ducked his head, trying in vain to preserve at least some of his theoretical dignity.
“Just leave me alone,” he muttered.
“No can do, kitten. We need to get you out of here, remember?”
“I don't need your help!” Tim pushed Robin's hands away and took several steps back. Even with the domino covering his eyes, Tim could see the shock on his face.
“I don't need your help,” Tim said again when it became clear Robin wasn't going to speak.
“What if I want to give it?” Robin asked quietly.
Tim bit back a frustrated growl. “In case you've forgotten, I'm the bad guy.”
“You don't seem that bad to me.”
“I literally just stole about 2 million dollars worth of jewels from the museum we're standing in right now.”
“You could give them back?”
“No!” Tim said, appalled.
“What if I ask really nicely?” Robin asked, smiling.
Tim narrowed his eyes. “I'm a thief. I don't return what I steal.”
“A thief in training.”
“A thief in winning.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means shut up!”
Tim flushed. The phantom Selina that lived in his head threw up her hands and started slamming her head against an invisible wall.
Robin was smirking in amusement, but Tim...
Tim was done.
“Whatever,” he said, slumping. “Just get us out of here, if it's so important to you.”
Robin tilted his head. “You're letting me help you?”
“Why not?” Tim shrugged. “It's obvious I massively screwed up tonight anyway. Might as well make it complete and have to be rescued by my arch enemy.”
“Arch—”
“It's not like Catwoman is going to keep me around much longer anyway,” Tim went on. “Someone who can run circles around Batman won't have much use for a stupid kid who can't even outsmart Robin.”
“Hey!”
“I was so dumb for ever thinking...” Tim bit his lips and wrapped his arms tightly around his body. “All I wanted to do was make her proud, you know? She took me in when my parents wanted nothing to do with me...for the first time in my life, someone cared about me. It felt...” Tim sniffled. “It felt like I finally had a mom...”
Aside from the blaring alarms, which were a lot quieter than Tim would have expected, absolute silence filled the space between them. After a moment, Tim turned away from Robin, his body language radiating embarrassment.
“I guess you probably have no idea what that's like...”
Robin let out a short, bitter laugh. “I know better than you think.”
Tim sniffled again. Then, slowly, he glanced back at Robin. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice small.
“Yeah.” Robin's expression was solemn, this time. No trace of flirting or teasing to be found. “My mom...she's not anything to write home about either.”
“Really?”
Robin nodded. “Yeah.”
They shared an understanding smile.
“Okay,” Tim said softly.
“Okay,” Robin said in the same tone.
“So,” Tim said a moment later, his voice filled with forced cheer. “How do we get out of here?”
A soft expression spread across Robin's face. “That's easy, Stray. First we find the alarm panel. Ah, there it is. Then we go over to it and—”
Robin moved past Tim, explaining as he went. The moment his back was turned, Tim lifted his arm and shot him in the back of the neck with another tranq dart. Robin spun around, a look of absolute betrayal on his face, before collapsing to the ground.
Tim stared down at his unconscious body.
“Told you I was the bad guy.”
Without another word, he took a tablet out of his pack and tapped it a few times. The worm he'd installed in the security system when he deactivated it gave him backdoor access to every part of the museum, and it took less than twenty seconds before all the security gates locking off the room began to rise and the alarm cut off.
“I also told you I didn't need your help.”
He turned to leave, then thought better of it and crouched down next to Robin. He looked so much softer when he was asleep. More like the kid he really was and not the flirty, confident vigilante he played at. Tim grinned.
“You did finally use my name, though. That definitely deserves a reward.”
He fished through his pack until he found the least valuable ring he'd stolen.
Perfect size. It must be fate.
He slipped the ring on Robin's gloved index finger. He paused, thought for a moment, then pulled it off and put on his left ring finger instead.
With that, he got up and sauntered out of the room.
“Suck it, Selina,” he said under his breath. “I can enthrall men all on my own.”
He closed the gates behind him, locking Robin in for the police to find whenever they finally decided to show up. After that, he made his way home as fast as he could. Maybe if he got these jewels back to Selina quick enough, he could get back here with his camera in time to get a nice shot of Batman's expression when Commissioner Gordon tells him where he found Robin.