From Gotham to Las Vegas

Want to Shake Pinkies?

"Where should we put the armor and weapons?" Dick asked.

"I don't know, uh, let's just leave the stuff in the trunk," suggested Jason.

Dick and Jason unloaded their armor and weapons from the backseat to the trunk and drove back in silence, both utterly too gleeful to strike up a conversation. As they re-entered the hotel room, immediately a light flickered on.

"Todd, Grayson," Damian nodded, a stony expression on his stubborn features.

"Damian, how many times do we have to tell you to go to bed before you get the message?" Jason asked, annoyed.  He kicked off his motorcycle boots by his bed and went to the fridge for a beer.

"I'll have sufficient bed rest after you tell what you were up to," Damian retorted.

Jason sighed before saying, "We went to Wayne Enterprises."

"I know that much.  But why?" Damian questioned.

"To get advanced armor," answered Jason, cracking open his beer and sinking into the couch with a contented sigh.

"Then why couldn't I come?"

"Because...we don't have any for you," Jason mumbled, taking a quick sip to avoid his younger brother's question.

"Run that by me one more time.  I could have sworn I heard you say, 'we don't have any for you'."  Damian's ice blue eyes narrowed, his jaw set stubbornly, and his chin stuck out in a gesture that was so familiar that Jason and Dick exchanged half-exasperated and half-amused.  Sometimes he looked so much like Bruce, it always adorable.

Of course, if Dick ever said that, he would wind up with a mouthful of broken teeth and Jason simply did not have the word adorable in his vocabulary.

"We don't have any for you," Dick said bravely.  Jason winced at the glare that was immediately thrown into Dick's general vicinity.

"And the reason for that is?"

"Lucius didn't know you existed so naturally he didn't make armor for your size," Dick explained cautiously, moving slightly behind Jason for security.

"Bruce might have a lot of contingencies but one he didn't have was having a son," Jason said, tipping his beer to the side and examining the way the liquid swished against the sides.

"I don't suppose you have the armor with you?" Damian asked.

"In the trunk," said Jason warily.

They both blinked as Damian sped into the hallway and down the stairs in a matter of seconds, too impatient to wait for the elevator.

"Well," Dick said dryly,  cracking open his own beer and hefting it in Jason's direction in a kind of toast.  "That went well."

Half an hour later, they were assembled on Jason's bed, examining the various pieces of armor and weapons. 

"This is perfect," Damian exclaimed, clutching a bo staff.  "This is collapsible!"

Jason and Dick exchanged another look, raising their eyebrows at each other.  "I remember when I liked bo staffs," Dick recalled wistfully, pulling out his own eskrima stick.

"I was always more of a gun kind of a guy," Jason shrugged.  "Still, I won't deny that is one sweet weapon."

"I can have it, correct?" Damian asked, eyes widening hopefully.

"I don't know," Jason drawled teasingly, raising his eyebrows and pretending to think.

"Todd, please," Damian requested earnestly. 

"Well..."

"I'll go to bed when you tell me to," he wheedled.

"You should do that anyway," Dick reproached him, smiling.

Damian ignored him.  "Please, Todd?  I won't touch your iPod."

"You shouldn't do that either."

"I won't lose the numbers of the girls who call looking for you."

"You shouldn't- wait, what?"

Jason leaned forward, green eyes glinting dangerously.  "Are you kidding me right now?  Damian, I hope for your sake that you're kidding me."

Damian inched closer to Dick, cautiously picking up his bo staff as he moved for protection.  "Now, Todd, let's not do anything we'll regret..."

"I'm not going to regret this."

"Stop," Dick demanded, spinning Jason's Guns and Ammo magazine into a roll and whacking Jason over the head with it.  "Leave your brother alone."

"He was going to kill me."

"He was not, Damian."

"I wasn't," Jason declared indignantly, tucking a razor back into his sleeve with a practiced flick of the wrist.

"Can I have it then?"

"Fine, Damian.  Knock yourself out," Jason told him, indulgent smile tugging at his mouth.

"Thank you, Todd," Damian said sincerely.  He handed him his old bo staff.  "I would really appreciate for you to have it."

"Oh, okay.  Thanks, Damian," Jason said somewhat awkwardly, but touched.  He reached over to take it.

"You must promise to take it on all of your missions from now on."

"But-"  Jason caught Dick's eye and relented.  "But how will it fit?"

"It's got a strap," Damian told him enthusiastically.  "See?"

"Okay, Damian," Jason promised.  "I'll take it with me."

"Promise?"

"Promise.  Want to shake pinkies?"

Damian gave Jason a dirty look but wrapped his little finger around his anyway.  "Just for extra insurance," he justified.  "And look, it's got a bullet shield..."

"That's actually pretty cool," Dick commented, running a finger along the hilt of a blade as he spoke.

"Of course it is," Damian said immediately.  "It was my weapon for quite a while, Grayson."

"Of course, Damian."

"Of course," Jason echoed, feeling oddly protective of his new weapon.