fic: Target Audience
Title: Target Audience
Fandom: DCU - Batman
Characters: Steph, Damian
Word Count: 682
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own Bat-anything.
Warnings: None
Summary: So Steph is kind of a Marvel girl. Sue her.
A/N: For latenightcuppa, who wanted stephanie brown + kate bishop, "i dig the purple." I have not read quite enough Hawkeye to manage crossover shenanigans, so this happened instead.
“Why are you reading comic books?” When Steph lowers the latest issue of Hawkeye, there are roughly two inches of space separating her from Damian’s scowling face. Ugh, why? It figures that the one time, the one time Batman wants her to do anything, it would be “wait in the safe house with Robin and don’t let him kill anything.” Fun times.
“Why are you not?” Steph counters, leaning back in her chair.
“Because we are on a mission,” Damian says, tipping his chin up like the smug little monster he is. “And I am not an infant.”
“Damian, we have been sitting here for,” she looks at the clock. “Five hours. I think the mission has been canceled for tonight. We’re just waiting for Batman to give us a ride home at this point. You can read a comic book if you really want to.”
Damian appears to consider this fleetingly, then sniffs, “As I said, comics are for children. I read the complete War and Peace at age seven.”
Steph boggles. “I’m…sorry?” This is clearly the wrong response, because Damian looks like he wants to hit her. Obviously a change of tactics is in order. “Look, kid, I’ve been reading comics since I was in kindergarten. I’m in college now. If they were for babies, don’t you think I’d know about it by now?”
“No,” Damian says flatly.
When Batman gets back, Steph is definitely informing him that he owes her for five hours and counting of babysitting, because seriously. “Just look at this. Look at the cover. How old do you think Hawkeye is?”
“I do not know who or what a ‘hawkeye’ is, and I do not care.”
“Okay, no, this is unacceptable. It is pop culture lesson time.”
Damian looks severely unimpressed.
“Do not even pretend with me that Dick doesn’t make you learn things. I have seen the little quizzes. You are currently failing ‘Hit Songs of the 70’s.’”
“Tell anyone that and you die,” Damian hisses.
“It’s okay, I sympathize. The 70’s were kind of the worst decade to exist. There was, you know, disco.” Steph shivers. “Anyway, we’re not going to think about that, we’re thinking about happy shiny things, like comics that are printed mostly in purple. Just look at that. I dig the purple.”
“I fail to see how color is at all relevant.”
Steph gives him a meaningful look. “You’re the one wearing an outfit that matches a traffic light. I’d hope the color is relevant to something, or your family is just really awful at picking out clothes.”
Damian kicks her chair. Steph chooses to ignore this. “Anyway. So in this magical vista of purple, there is Hawkeye, and there is Hawkeye. They are both awesome, and together-”
“Why do they have the same name?”
“Because…sharing is caring?”
“What.”
“I don’t know why they have the same name, okay, shush. But this is Clint, and he has a puppy with one eye, and this is Kate, and she is the most fabulous person in the history of ever.”
Damian looks skeptical.
“It’s true. She is.”
Still skeptical.
“It’s cool, you don’t have to believe me. You’ll find out for yourself when you read it, for it is Known Fact. Anyway, so they are both Hawkeye, and they’re both the best archer in the world-“
“How can they both be the best archer in the world?”
“Fine, they are the best archers in the world, plural.”
“This is stupid. If I cared about archery, I would find Father’s Justice League reports and read about Green Arrow. I took target practice with my mother when I was a child. I am not impressed.”
Steph wants to bang her head on the window. That would probably be a bad idea, though-safe house and all. The sun is starting to come up, but Batman has shown no signs of returning to free her from the Babysitting Mission of Doom. Well, the sunrise is sort of purple, anyway. Everyone says that’s just the pollution, but she still thinks it’s kind of cool.
Fandom: DCU - Batman
Characters: Steph, Damian
Word Count: 682
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own Bat-anything.
Warnings: None
Summary: So Steph is kind of a Marvel girl. Sue her.
A/N: For latenightcuppa, who wanted stephanie brown + kate bishop, "i dig the purple." I have not read quite enough Hawkeye to manage crossover shenanigans, so this happened instead.
“Why are you reading comic books?” When Steph lowers the latest issue of Hawkeye, there are roughly two inches of space separating her from Damian’s scowling face. Ugh, why? It figures that the one time, the one time Batman wants her to do anything, it would be “wait in the safe house with Robin and don’t let him kill anything.” Fun times.
“Why are you not?” Steph counters, leaning back in her chair.
“Because we are on a mission,” Damian says, tipping his chin up like the smug little monster he is. “And I am not an infant.”
“Damian, we have been sitting here for,” she looks at the clock. “Five hours. I think the mission has been canceled for tonight. We’re just waiting for Batman to give us a ride home at this point. You can read a comic book if you really want to.”
Damian appears to consider this fleetingly, then sniffs, “As I said, comics are for children. I read the complete War and Peace at age seven.”
Steph boggles. “I’m…sorry?” This is clearly the wrong response, because Damian looks like he wants to hit her. Obviously a change of tactics is in order. “Look, kid, I’ve been reading comics since I was in kindergarten. I’m in college now. If they were for babies, don’t you think I’d know about it by now?”
“No,” Damian says flatly.
When Batman gets back, Steph is definitely informing him that he owes her for five hours and counting of babysitting, because seriously. “Just look at this. Look at the cover. How old do you think Hawkeye is?”
“I do not know who or what a ‘hawkeye’ is, and I do not care.”
“Okay, no, this is unacceptable. It is pop culture lesson time.”
Damian looks severely unimpressed.
“Do not even pretend with me that Dick doesn’t make you learn things. I have seen the little quizzes. You are currently failing ‘Hit Songs of the 70’s.’”
“Tell anyone that and you die,” Damian hisses.
“It’s okay, I sympathize. The 70’s were kind of the worst decade to exist. There was, you know, disco.” Steph shivers. “Anyway, we’re not going to think about that, we’re thinking about happy shiny things, like comics that are printed mostly in purple. Just look at that. I dig the purple.”
“I fail to see how color is at all relevant.”
Steph gives him a meaningful look. “You’re the one wearing an outfit that matches a traffic light. I’d hope the color is relevant to something, or your family is just really awful at picking out clothes.”
Damian kicks her chair. Steph chooses to ignore this. “Anyway. So in this magical vista of purple, there is Hawkeye, and there is Hawkeye. They are both awesome, and together-”
“Why do they have the same name?”
“Because…sharing is caring?”
“What.”
“I don’t know why they have the same name, okay, shush. But this is Clint, and he has a puppy with one eye, and this is Kate, and she is the most fabulous person in the history of ever.”
Damian looks skeptical.
“It’s true. She is.”
Still skeptical.
“It’s cool, you don’t have to believe me. You’ll find out for yourself when you read it, for it is Known Fact. Anyway, so they are both Hawkeye, and they’re both the best archer in the world-“
“How can they both be the best archer in the world?”
“Fine, they are the best archers in the world, plural.”
“This is stupid. If I cared about archery, I would find Father’s Justice League reports and read about Green Arrow. I took target practice with my mother when I was a child. I am not impressed.”
Steph wants to bang her head on the window. That would probably be a bad idea, though-safe house and all. The sun is starting to come up, but Batman has shown no signs of returning to free her from the Babysitting Mission of Doom. Well, the sunrise is sort of purple, anyway. Everyone says that’s just the pollution, but she still thinks it’s kind of cool.