Batsis Stories, Imagines, & One-Shots

Talk Shit, Get Hit

Getting the call that his eldest child had gotten in trouble at school wasn't surprising to Bruce. Not in the least. However, hearing that she was the one who instigated the fight was surprising because his daughter typically didn't start fights with people, but she sure as hell finished them.

He smiled politely at the teachers and students lined in the hallway who were only sticking their heads out of the classrooms because they heard that Bruce Wayne had been called to come down to the academy—which had never happened before.

Entering the office, the secretary looked up and tipped her head to the door. "Headmaster McKinley is in the office with your daughter and the boy she got into the argument with, Mister Wayne. His mother will arrive soon."

Bruce nodded and knocked on the door before opening it; his daughter rolled her eyes she saw him. "Good afternoon, Headmaster McKinley," he greeted, shaking the headmaster's hand.

"Good afternoon, Mister Wayne. I'm sorry you had to be called down here, but I'm afraid there was no other option after your daughter wouldn't speak of the incident." He glanced at the boy who was holding an icepack to a busted nose. "Mark has been kind enough to share his side of the story. We're just waiting on her."

Taking the seat beside her, he took a moment to look over her stance. She was leaning against the wall beside the desk, arms crossed over her chest, and he knew her lazy posture screamed, "I'm going to wipe the floor with all of you when I get my chance"—she was stalling because she had some ace up her sleeve.

Before he could say anything, a woman burst into the office, immediately running to the high schooler. "Mark!" she gasped at the busted nose then scowled at her. "Did you do this to my son! How dare you attack him!"

"Now Miss Vales, please calm down. There's no reason to be hysterical," the headmaster said, and she recoiled.

"Calm down?! She abused my son! I want this—this harlot expelled!"

"Nothing is going to be decided until she gives her side of the story, Miss Vales." McKinley leveled her firmly. "Now would be a good time to explain that story, Miss Wayne."

Her eyes momentarily found her father's and they spoke wordlessly before she shrugged and admitted, "Yeah, I broke his nose."

"AHA!" the woman shouted. "See! Expel h—"

"After he called me a rich bitch and then insulted my father's decision to adopt my younger brother." She smiled prettily and looked at Bruce. "Called Dick a racial slur too."

Mark sat straight. "I did not!"

Her eyes darted to his and she pulled out a small device from her back pocket about the size of her palm. She clicked play and voices filled the room.

You know, I always wondered why someone like you dresses in poor-taste when your dad is a billionaire.

Well, it's probably because my dad cut me off the credit cards and made me get a job to teach me humility and now, I buy my own things with my own money.

Your jewelry says otherwise.

My jewelry belonged to my grandmother. My dad gave it to me out of respect for her.

Oh yeah? And what about this?

Give me my wallet, Mark.

Wow, there's like a grand in here just from hundred-dollar bills. I thought daddy didn't give you money.

He doesn't.

Then where'd you get this?

Oh, funny story. Every time I fuck your dad, he gives me a hundred, Mark. Better watch out before I make you my stepson.

You rich bitch!

Oh, what the hell, take the money. Maybe you'll buy some better insults with it.

You and your family are just stupid rich assholes. You and your adopted gyp brother.

...What the fuck did you just say to me?

You heard me, bitch. I said—THWAP!

Call my brother some shit like that again and I'll do more than break your fucking nose. I'll stomp a mudhole in your—

She clicked stop and right about then, Mark's mouth fell open, but nothing came out and his cheeks were aflame, as were his mother's.

Her eyes darted to the headmaster's and she set the recorder down. "You can give me detention for having a recorder in class but I'm not going to get punished for defending myself and my family against racial abuse." She stood up from the wall and placed her hands on the desk, leaning forward until she was in his face.

"Go ahead though. Expel me if you want to. But the second that paperwork is filed I'll march into the Daily Planet in Metropolis and have Clark Kent and Lois Lane ruin Gotham Academy by saying you allowed a student to use racial slurs and punished those who stood up against it."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Wayne Enterprises wouldn't want to be associated with that. And if we pull our funds because you decided to punish someone standing up to racism, every organization that funds this shit-school will follow right down the line. You'll displace thousands of teens and teachers from school and jobs not to mention yourself."

"So, what's it going to be, Headmaster McKinley. Are you going to punish me? Or him?"

The man was sweating after her tirade and he adjusted the pens on his desk, murmuring, "Mister Wayne, you and your daughter are free to leave."

Bruce rose from his seat, resting his hand on her shoulder. "Come sweetheart, let's go." She obeyed, shooting a dirty look at Mark as she passed by, but her father stopped in his tracks and pointed a finger at the boy's mother.

"If you ever insult my daughter like that again, I'll bankrupt your husband's company and then I'll go on a rant about how you and your useless spouse have raised a racist."

The woman's eyes went wide, cheeks turning a fierce scarlet, and she went silent. As they passed, his daughter shot the woman the finger and mouthed, "Go fuck yourself."

***

They stood outside the doors and he smiled at her. "Wanna get pizza?"

"Fuck yeah, I wanna get pizza."

His smile slipped into a frown. "Hey, watch your language. You're allowed to use it when kicking a racists' ass, but not outside of that."

She rolled her eyes. "Nyeh, whatever."

"What was that?" he asked, blinking at her and she smiled cheekily.

"I said, yes sir, dad sir. Won't happen again."

"That's better."

"God you're about as mother-henning as Alfred is. Miss Wayne watch your language. It is deplorable for a lady to speak in such a way. You should speak with eloquence instead." She smiled when he snorted, then grabbed his arm. "Hey, let's go get Dickie out of class and take him with us."

"But he's in French right now?"

"Dad...no one likes French class. It's boring and hard."

"...That's an excellent point." He walked over to the secretary and gave her a million-watt smile. Excuse me, miss, I'd like to check my son out of school."

"Ahem," she coughed dramatically, and he shot her a glance.

"Oh, right, and my daughter."

"Reason?"

He blinked. "Because I said so?"

"Oh my god, dad." She waved. "Dick Grayson and I have appointments at Doctor Leslie's office in the city."

The secretary smiled. "That's a good reason." She tapped at the mic. "Richard Grayson, please collect your things and report to the office, you're checking out." Clicking the mic off, she added, "And good on you for breaking Mark's nose. Little-snot had it coming."

She grinned. "I live to serve by punching racists."