ᴀɴᴀᴄʜʀᴏɴɪꜱᴍ

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"I did not think you two could have done anything worse than taking me to a public daycare when I was five, but this– this takes the cake." Vin groused to his parents, who sat on the living room couch calmly as they watched their son pace in a consistent back-and-forth motion.

"First of all, hiring your babysitter from the classifieds was the worse thing we ever did to you. It was either a girl in freshman college or daycare." Angelo shrugged, taking a casual sip of his wine.

"And you set both on fire," Maria added pointedly.

"I was an expressive, independent child." Vin protested indignantly. "Besides, that immature girl didn't like Gabriel and refused to let me out of my own house to see him. And the daycare didn't know their place, I was simply nice enough to show it to them." He shrugged. "I would say I was a lovely five-year-old."

"You're our son; that should be enough of an indicator of what kind of child you were and still are." Maria stole her husband's drink and downed its entire contents before returning it. Angelo looked down sadly at his empty glass.

The man sighed forlornly at his lost beverage, "Look, you've been given a special assignment. Just treat it like any other task. It's the same thing, really, collecting protection pay from local businesses and-"

"Playing guard dog to a pair of snobbish, whiny, shriveled little creatures?" Vin finished dryly.

"Fils, do not call the Bridgerton children snobbish, whiny, shriveled little creatures." His mother wagged her finger disapprovingly. "That is an insult to snobbish, whiny, shriveled little creatures everywhere."

"How the hell did this even happen?" Vin ran a hand down his face. "We're not exactly of the business of playing to the hand of Upper Gotham. The legal half, anyway."

"A certain ally has specifically requested you. He explicitly stated that the client would not accept anyone other than you and-"

"Robin," Vin murmured, then sighed. "Mio Dio, they're obsessed nutjobs. Those two are going to be all over the Boy Wonder. On top of protecting them from external threats, I'm going to have to guard Damian from their wandering hands. I am stressed here; your child is stressed; you both are horrible parents!" Vin cried and pouted when all he received was a pair of unimpressed looks.

Angelo shrugged again, "Better you than me."











The muted revving of a stealth cruiser roared into the cave as Vin punched his modified pin into the innocuous door and entered the secret area. As he slowed to a stop and kicked off the engine, he noticed Mr. Wayne and Damian waiting by the sizeable computer in the center of the raised platform.

Well, at least he wouldn't have to deal with the pitying looks from Drake and the jeerish laughter from Red Jay. He wouldn't blame them; who the hell would want to take this job anyway?

"Bat, Robin," He greeted the vigilantes curtly. As one of the few criminally-aligned visitors to the Batcave, there were still times he felt uneasy in a hideout chock full of people with morals that were on the opposite spectrum of his grey-world thinking. (With the exception of Red Jay and the butler with godlike shotgun skills.)

"Spade." Robin acknowledged him. They had been adamant about keeping things professional during missions. Fewer accidents, less pain for everyone.

Batman afforded a small nod and pressed a button on the Batcomputer. The large screen lit up with various windows of information, ranging from past case files, CCTV images, and crime exhibit pictures taken for evidence in court.

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