8: She Made Him Laugh?

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AN: So this is sort of a... Filler chapter? Mostly so the transition through the following time frame makes more sense, and to give the idea of what Lyn has, and will, be up to concerning her time. I'm always frustrated when time skips, so i figured I would add something so that I didn't do to you what I don't like others doing to me.
Plus, I figured she needed to meet at least one other current member of the Bat gang.
Carry on.
...

Time Since Discovery: 1 month
Status: in training
...

I was sitting at the Batcomputer, watching Cat videos and eating blueberries while Damian and Dick sparred, when a motorcycle roared down the cave entrance and slid to a stop on the parking strip. The driver killed the engine and stepped off, leaving it parked right next to the bat mobile. Damian and Dick halted their sparring to turn to the mysterious motorcyclist, but they didn't seem to concerned despite Damian's scowl, so I took a moment to observe the driver before he noticed me.

He wore a leather jacket over black body armor, like Nightwing's but with a red symbol on the chest, and a set of holsters that started from his belt and continued down to his knees. Each one held the unmistakable shape of a gun and every part of the man's stance said "I am a bad ass", down to his black combat boots and solid red helmet. The helmet had two white diamonds for eyes and as he pulled it off, I found that he was wearing a domino mask like Nightwing and Robin's and had black hair like they did too save for a single gray streak in the middle of his bangs.

All in all, it was obvious he was affiliated with the Batman in his nighttime endeavors. Him driving into the Batcave was obvious enough. I swiveled around in my chair and yelled at Damian.

"Even mr hotshot with the motorcycle wears a helmet! Is it really so much to ask that you wear a helmet when you ride the genetically modified horses who go just as fast? No, probably not!"

Damian sputtered out a chuckle despite his continuing scowl. Dick sighed and the stranger's gaze whipped towards me, finally noticing my existence. I waved and popped a blue berry into my mouth.
"I would say hi but I have no idea who you are-"

"Who the -*insert curse word here*- are you?" He didn't pull out a gun, but the venom in his voice was lethal enough, "And how the hell are you able to get that demon to laugh?"

The first question made sense, the second one not so much.
"Wait, what?"

The man whirled around to Dick, "Nightwing, explain. Now"

-several minutes and a bowl of blueberries later-

"Don't expect me to apologize," the man, who turned out to be Red Hood, AKA Jason Todd, AKA cranky pants, smirked at me.

I threw the bowl at him, "You ate my blueberries! Of course I'd like an apology! But considering your part of this shenanigans," I flailed my arms at the Batcave, "that's a big fat zero on the possibility list!"

Jason dodged the bowl, "I guess you catch on quick. Got any more blueberries?"

"No! You know why? Because you ate them all, you blueberry thief!"

Damian was still glowering at Jason, but Dick smacked his forehead.
"How did she go from threat to snack supplier in three minutes time? Two minutes ago you were threatening to rip out her tongue so she couldn't spread your identity..."

Jason shrugged and leaned back against the desk of the Batcomputer. He peeled his mask off to reveal smirking blue eyes, "Call it a hunch. Villains don't like blueberries."

I gave him a withering glare, "Well that's obviously not true, because you ate my blueberries..."

"I'm hurt."

"No, you're not. And you owe me a new bowl of blueberries before I sick my genetically modified horses on you."

"Ah yes, I'm terrified. Whatever shall I do with these deadly guns if a horse were to charge me?"

"They would probably get jammed with blueberries in a freak accident of some sort."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. You want to know why?"

"Sure. I'll bite. Why would they be loaded with blueberries?"

At this point Dick was following our bickering like a ping pong match. It would have been comical but I was too engrossed in verbally destroying this guy.
"Because genetically modified blueberries don't like being eaten, that's why. In the dark of the night, they come for revenge. They find you and they sabotage you when you don't see it coming," I narrowed my eyes, "Their brethren will be avenged."

Jason raised an eyebrow as Dick face palmed again and Damian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"If that's the case, wouldn't they be coming after you too for eating them? I recall you had the bowl first."
He crossed his arms as if he'd won. Ha! As if.

"I wasn't eating the genetically modified ones. The ones on top were normal," from the corner of my eye I saw Damian mouth 'good lord' before rolling his eyes.

Jason was nonplussed, "You expect me to believe those were vengeful, sentient, genetically modified blueberries? Seriously."

"Says the guy who's probably seen weirder things than I have and knows of an organization known for genetically modifying animals and cloning people. The plausibility factor here is high, how do you know we weren't planning on running tests on those berries, huh? How can you be so sure they weren't a new breed of weapon? I've been hunted by those people, I faked my own death because of them," I stared deeply into his eyes, "It's very plausible Jason, very plausible indeed."

I didn't know if I'd convinced him, but he shuffled uncomfortably and glanced at Dick. His knitted eyebrows confirmed my story's success a moment later when he asked, quietly,
"So... Cadmus is infecting fruit now?"

I didn't respond for several seconds. Instead I rolled my swivel chair over so I was sitting right next to him, gazing intently into his eyes until I couldn't hold it any longer. I laughed.
"Of course not you twit, but you were really worried for a minute there weren't you?"

He didn't deign to respond. So I rolled my chair back over to my spot and grinned at him triumphantly. Dick picked up the conversation before Jason could throw the blueberry bowl back at me.

"So why are you here exactly? You're not the type to drop in for social visits."

"Funny you should ask, Alfred said I needed to meet someone..."

...

That person turned out to be me. Bruce wasn't on the best of terms with Jason as far as I could tell, so Alfred had called instead. Something about keeping an eye on me from time to time should I need an impromptu babysitter.
Yay. I'm incapable of taking care of myself inside of a mansion fortified to withstand the freaking zombie apocalypse. Thank you Bruce for the confidence booster.

While Dick explained the circumstances in greater depth to Jason, I started making side commentary to Damian. Pointing out little things like hand motions and scowls and how blueberries would be plotting Jason's demise at any conceivable minute.

My friend managed to keep a straight face for most of it, but slowly he started to crack. Small grins first and then scowls as he realized what I was doing. I paused a second and then concluded with a pun about something to do with Nightwing's social life.
It finally broke him.

"... heh... Hehe... Hahahaha!!!! Why am I laughing? I can't breath!" Damian doubled over, heaving in laughter.

Mission accomplished. I grinned and mentally high-fived myself.

It was then that I caught sight of Jason's face at Damian's cackling form. It was a mixture of awe and horror, stuck somewhere in that unreadable zone between 'good lord what am I witnessing' and 'what sorcery is this'.
"Dick, he's laughing. Why is he laughing?... Who is this chick really?"

From that point on, Jason Todd, AKA Redhood, and I got along just fine. Despite the fact that he still owed me a bowl of blueberries.

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