riseupwithfists: art by rick veitch (gothamcore)
the artist formerly known as oneangrykate ([personal profile] riseupwithfists) wrote2010-07-10 09:19 pm

Summer Fic Amnesty!

A few months back, I mentioned to some of you that I was trying to write a current canon Tim story. Or, rather, me attempting to make current canon Tim a Tim I would like to write about, because GOOD NIGHT I have some issues with the past year or so of DC Bat-stuff. Sadly, I don't think it's gonna happen, even though I really wanted it to, but that's no reason not to share some of it with the world. The following includes the Kate-cap of the last few issues of Red Robin, my reaction(s) to it, and my attempted solution in the shape of fic, with commentary on the stuff I was planning on writing.

Don't expect anything amazing here. This is more about getting the idea out out so I don't feel guilt about it anymore.

Kate-cap for those of you who are not reading Red Robin: So Tim has currently found himself “engaged” to one Tam Fox without his knowledge (because Vicki Vale was about to figure out Tim's identity and Tam decided that “we're engaged!” was better than “I know that he's a Batperson!”), R'as and the Ah-Ghuls (this summer's hottest lounge act!) are about to go after his sperm because they want him to produce an heir, and Fabian Nicieza is outright virgin-baiting him in interviews.

I know. I know.

I figured that this all needed some serious queering up if I were to remain sane. I'm expecting that the current "Tim is fake-engaged" plot will bring the amusement for people, and I'm really not in the business of Cheerio-pissing (in public, anyway). My relationship with post RIP canon has been really complicated. I end up almost liking some of it, and then having everything poisoned by the lack of Cass (this is bothering me a lot more than I thought it would) or the intrusion of the more Gary Stu flavor of Damian (I've come to accept his use as a growly, violent kitten as a necessary evil; I'm still not planning on ever writing him). Plus, I don't want to read a harem anime version of Tim. So my planned intent with this story was to map out Tim's place in new canon in a way that was satisfying to me, as well as queering up some of the more annoying heteronormativity.

And who better to fight heteronormativity than one Bart Allen? And DOUBLING the fake-engagement plot?

Scene One: Wherein Bart drags Tim out to be social. Godzilla movies were probably involved. The subject of Tim's Big Fat Fake Engagement comes up. Tim voices his displeasure with having to maintain a fake tabloid persona on top of his "fake everything":

“While I've accepted the fact that I have to act like a blithering idiot in public, I'm drawing the line at obvious tabloid fodder. But you know that the more we deny-”

“The more they believe in it, yeah!” Bart reappears in jeans and a criminally orange sweater. “And I want you to know that I will always support you, and asexuality is a completely valid and wonderful identity and I could lend you books on the subject if you're interested. And Cassie and I will totally knock Kon's block off if he says anything uncouth.”

“Bart, I'm not-” He sighs. “I just have a lot on my mind right now, and-”

“I think I have a solution!”

“I already have a solution,” Tim insists. “I can defend my chastity just fine by myself, I assure you.”

Bart's solution, of course, wins. Much to Tim's utter chagrin. Said solution? Fight fire with fire: TIM NEEDS A FAKE BOYFRIEND.

This doesn't make any sense. I know. But Bart goes full speed ahead, as always, with Tim along for the ride mostly because he's far too bewildered to protest (my favorite Bart/Tim dynamic, let me show you it).

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne! I love you, but we can't go on living like this! In the shadows! Where you tend to live!” They're in front of a building which houses, among other things, one of the more salacious local tabloids, and Bart's as shrill as a foghorn, and Tim really doesn't want to have to fend him off.

“I've put up with our sneaking around long enough! Now you have to choose!” Tim has a few seconds to wonder exactly what kind of reading material Bart's been flying through these days before Bart's yanking him closer by the collar. “Either you tell the world that your engagement is a sham and stop living a lie, or I leave you! Despite all of the gut-wrenchingly hot sex that we've been engaging in, because I am your secret lover!”

They're starting to attract a crowd; right now Tim wishes that he had superspeed. “Bart,” he hisses. “Bart.

Bart looks around as if the cameras have until now escaped his notice. “Oh, how fortuitous!” he crows. Tim thinks that he has something in his eye until he realizes that this is just Bart batting his eyelashes at him, bold as a Southern belle. He loops his arms around Tim's neck. Projecting again: “I just can't live a lie anymore, Tim, and neither can you!”

Tim has trained his reflexes for years, for half his life, and he still can't make himself move out of the way. It's an inevitable trajectory. Bart kisses him, and the flashbulbs go off, and this is about to make Tim's life even more difficult than it already is, but there's nothing that he can do except close his eyes and take it and try not to visualize tomorrow's blazing headlines.

“You're not that bad a kisser!”


“It's okay.” Bart leans in with a knowing smile. “I'm helping.”

Shit hits the fan in a humorous way, and Tim is even more hounded by the world than before. And I try to write Tam Fox.

Tim's new office... has more windows than he'd like, seeing that his preferred number is zero. “No dungeon level offices,” Tam had said in response to the distasteful look he was trying very hard not to make. “Looks like you'll have to suffer with the rest of them.”

“And you're not including yourself in this number?”

Is Tim really in charge of Wayne Corp now? This could be painful.

Or hysterical.

“Guys, you can come in now.”

Two mailroom attendants wheel in what appear to be at least forty bouquets, predominately daisies and tulips.

“All for me?”

"All for you." Tam reads the nearest tag aloud. “'To my Timmy-Turtleface'- aw, is that a real nickname?”

Tim stares straight ahead. “I want to jump out the window right now.”

“Go ahead, crazycakes.” Tam continues, “'To my TIMMY-TURTLEFACE, with dearest, most romantic regards. XOXO, Bartholomew Allen.' I'm going to assume that the rest of the cards hold similar endearments.”

“Please tell me that I have a meeting or something. In Siberia.”

“Ooh, you could hire your secret lover to work for you! Then I bet that some of the paparazzi will camp out here for a change instead of, say, in front of my building at all hours because the world thinks that we're engaged.”

Tim puts a finger to his cheek. “Remind me exactly how the world got that idea again?”

“Uh, je ne comprends pas,” Tam inches her way toward the door. “Je ne parle pas Anglais?”

“Say goodnight, Tam.”

“Goodnight Tam.”

My favorite scene: Dick comes to offer unsolicited complicated love life advice to Tim on a rooftop. With Jason along for the ride. Aggh I wish I had more time to write this scene out it would be amazing.

"Jason." Tim breathes in as controlled a manner as possible.

Jason tilts his head in semi-greeting. "Burger Prince. How nice of you to join us."

A Gotham where metas are welcome and psychotic brothers get to go on playdates. Tim is nothing if not ready to adapt at a moment's notice, but that doesn't make it any less strange.

"You're finally entangled in your first love triangle!" Dick is practically vibrating off the roof in his uncontrollable glee. “Now you are a man!”

Tim isn't sure that this is accurate, but the last thing that could help this situation is giving Dick any more ammunition.

Jason twirls his knife. "Dickie Dickie Dickie, I'm surprised at you. Surely you don't think that Happy Meal here is ready for an adult relationship? He's barely out of diapers."

“Careful now.” Tim says. “Wouldn't want you to use up all of your cunning put-downs in one night.” He turns to Dick. “And why did you let him out of his cage again?”

Jason jumps in before Dick can open his mouth. “Some members of my family are invested in fostering a real relationship with me. And by some, I mean Alfred-dear and my current chaperone.”

If Jason can keep himself from sticking his tongue out at Tim, then Tim can keep himself from rolling his eyes. “Well, bully for you.”

"Are you planning the wedding yet?" Dick asks in rapture. "I think Bart should dramatically interrupt and carry you off as you sigh lustily in his arms."

"I think you should start writing potboiler romance novels," Jason responds, "as that is obviously where your true passion lies."

"Oh God," Tim moans.

Emotional shit between Bart and Tim happens. I wasn't sure how to handle this without getting all cheesy or preachy, which is probably why this is going out into the world as a WIP amnesty and not as a finished piece. The important part is that Tim needs to start integrating his private and public life, to a very limited extent, or else he'll get all dried up and emotionally withered. I suspect that I'd use the old "Bart Allen enthusiastically speaks the truth!" trope. But it's such a good trope. Tim responds by bringing Bart to some horrible Gotham society function, and that is our last scene.


“Stick close to me,” Tim instructs him. “Follow my lead; you know me from high school math camp and our relationship was rekindled after a summer abroad. And please, please try not to be too forthcoming. These people are like piranhas."

Bart nods with all the resolve that he can muster. “This'll be fun!"

Tim sincerely doubts it. On the other side of the doorway lie a hundred flashbulbs, a hundred society matrons to navigate through, a hundred awkward interrogations by a hundred gossip-starved wretches. Tim would almost prefer R'as.


“Okay.” He takes Bart's hand, takes a breath. The warmth of Bart's hand, the thrum of his pulse are the only things keeping Tim grounded. “Here we go.”

Ahahahah oh god this is dumb.

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