Poker Face | Bruce Wayne

seventeen

PRESENT DAY

Tim cracked his knuckles: index, ring, pointer, pinky, thumb, repeat on the other side. It was more of a tactic to stay awake than anything else— it released endorphins in his hands that sometimes felt like his only connection to reality, save for the tall, tall, extra caffeinated, and extra sugared cup of coffee sitting on his desk.

It had probably been... what? Thirty... thirty-five? Thirty-five, going on thirty-nine hours since he'd slept. When comparing his sleep schedule to the only other male in the house who slept as little as he did— which would be Bruce— Tim had no idea how the hell the man managed a solid three or four hours in a row and still got everything done.

He sighed. His West Coast expansion proposal was nearly finalized, "nearly" not for his lack of trying, but for Bruce being too distracted to look over and approve it.

He also had school (high school and the early college classes he was taking. Organic Chemistry was his easiest— but Architecture was no joke. Tim wasn't exactly the creative type). Then there was Red Robin business, including but not limited to the Killer Croc super-drug running rampant through Gotham, which Tim had taken on solely because he saw that Bruce was busy dealing with the Floyd Lawton assassination attempt on Meredith Elias' life.

And then, he had a Titan's party hosted by Jaime and Garfield that everyone was expecting him to attend later in the week, the Incan Exhibition opening at the museum tomorrow night, and he had to brainstorm ideas for another Wayne Enterprises proposal, hoping that Meredith might be interested in taking a look.

So, yeah, Tim had a lot on his plate, to say the least.

Currently, the project intriguing him the most was what to present Meredith with. The woman was the only person who rivaled Bruce in terms of dedication to her business— Tim would never ever admit it, but a part of him sort of wanted to inquire about an internship under Meredith.

Not that he didn't like Bruce! Bruce was a very capable businessman, but if Tim was being honest, his adoptive father had his time split between being Bruce Wayne— playboy, billionaire, CEO— and being Batman— Dark Knight, Protector of Gotham, leader of the Justice League. Meredith, on the other hand, only did business, all day every day, and so no offense to Bruce, but Meredith simply had more experience.

He tapped his pen. Maybe something to do with his expansion proposal? Maybe something to do with West Coast giant Trevor Furnsby? Maybe something with clean air... San Francisco was having pollution problems, Tim knew. A Wayne Enterprises and Fernsby & Co alliance would be huge—

The sound of footsteps pulled his attention.

The fact that he even heard them automatically narrowed down who it was— you could never hear either Bruce or Damian entering a room— which left Alfred, but the steps were too heavy, so it had to be Dick.

Tim swiveled around in his chair to find Dick swinging the bedroom door open, followed by their younger brother. Both stopped near the entrance with their arms crossed.

Tim raised a brow. "The two of you working together is never a good sign."

"We need information," Dick explained.

"Now." Damian's voice was sharp and curt, exactly like Bruce.

Tim narrowed his eyes. "Okayy..."

"We need to know what you know about Meredith Elias."

Tim pulled his head back in surprise at his eldest brother's words. What could they possibly want with Meredith? Tim genuinely had to think about what he knew. "Um... I don't know. She grew up in Gotham, inherited her dad's company at nineteen because he had cancer at the time—"