Title: Violet Night
Summery: Bruce Wayne has a new girl friend but Dick can't stand her. Is he just feeling jealous or is it something more?
Genre: angst, AU, (because I've never actually watched the cartoon or read the comics; what I know of batman comes from the films, the really old tv series, and fanfiction. Therefore, anything I get wrong about the batman universe can be blamed on it being an alternate universe, or you could send a helpful, polite review informing me on details that are off). Possibly OOC (for the same reason it's AU)
Warnings: Everything, not because I have every possible thing one warns against in it but because I hate giving away part of the story in the warnings. So if you are too young/don't like to read about violence/death/sex/abuse/strong language then be warned one or more of these might be included and, considering the mature rating of the story, at least one probably is.
The Violet Woman
"I hate her," Dick muttered darkly, his nose wrinkling at an imagined stench, "She always reeks of that flower perfume stuff. Violet, whatever those are meant to smell like."
"Aren't you too old to still be afraid of girl cooties?" Barbara asked with a teasing smile. The fourteen year old teen glanced at her in annoyance but ignored the comment in favor of glaring down from their vantage point at the top of the stairs. Below them, a beautiful young woman with flowing black hair was hanging off of Bruce's arm. They were dressed to go out, Bruce in a suit and she in a black dress. Under other circumstances, Dick might have secretly admired her beauty, but something about the woman put him off.
"Well, she does stink," he insisted, "Why do girls have to drown themselves in the stuff?"
"I'm a girl, do I stink?" Barbara asked in reply. Dick finally turned his head away from the couple at the bottom of the stairs to look at her.
"You, Barbara, are no girl," he answered, "You're a beautiful young lady." And even with the age gap between them, she found herself blushing.
"I heartily agree," a sudden voice announced from behind them in a refined accent. Barbara jumped, turning to see Alfred had appeared baring a tray, "Now, might I suggest some refreshments in the green room and leaving Master Bruce to his date?" Dick, not appearing startled in the slightest, only grudgingly nodded his head. Barbara left more willingly, not really caring to spy on the two in the first place.
"How long do you think this one will last?" Dick asked as he allowed Alfred to lead him away, "Already two weeks longer than the last record."
"Maybe she will stay around," Barbara suggested. Dick scowled.
"I believe that is the business of master Bruce," Alfred said, his voice mildly reproving. "And now, I'll leave you to entertain your lady friend."
"Thank you, Alfred," Dick answered, sparing him a brief smile before returning to his scowl. Alfred gave a small sigh and retired.
"I can't believe he lets her stay the night," Dick continued to rant as soon as the older gentleman was gone, "Like I need the image in my head."
"In separate rooms, isn't it?" Barbara asked, having heard something of the details already. This was not the first time Dick had complained about the woman.
"Only because she wants to give the proper impression with the 'child' in the house," he answered, "As if I don't know how they sneak into each other's rooms. And there's another thing, this one keeps trying to come off as motherly towards me. I hate it when they do that."
"Enough, Dick!" Barbara cried, "For the past month all I hear about all day is how horrible this woman is!"
"Well she is," Dick answered, but he at last agreed to change the subject. And the new woman was horrible. And Bruce never wanted to hear it. Not even when her staying in the house kept them from patrol or when Dick suggested her perfume had some sort of love concoction that had addled Bruce's brain. That was how Dick knew it was supposed to be violet; Bruce had apparently bought her the perfume himself. Thankfully it was chosen at her request, not to Bruce's taste, though he said it was growing on him. Just like Myrie seemed to be growing on him, Dick thought, like a wart. Dick never get close to that smell without wanting to gag, but that could just as well have been the effect of being close to Myra Trinity Linderman. To be Myra Trinity Wayne if she had her way. Worst of all, Bruce didn't really seem that adverse to the idea.
When they first started going out, it was all about the Bruce Wayne image. She was only the girl of the week, another beauty with no brains to adorn his side. Not that Bruce used them, or not any more than they were using him, going out with his image with no more care for Bruce than as the latest in accessory. But Myra lasted for longer than a week. Then, one day, Dick came down to breakfast and she was there, Bruce hanging over her and calling her 'Myrie'. It had all gone down hill from there. Dick had even begun to have nightmares about it, like he was drowning in her awful perfume.
Thankfully, that night was a patrol night, which meant there was no way Myrie would be staying over. But Dick had a worried, anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach that somehow, someway, that woman would persuade Bruce to let her stay anyway. He had nightmarish visions of her dressed up, cat-woman-like and following beside the bat while he struggled along behind them. Not that he was worried about her replacing him, somehow. Which was what just about everyone else thought he was feeling and every single one of them had taken the time to give him a talk about how Bruce having a girl friend didn't mean he'd stop caring about Dick. Dick knew that already. He wasn't jealous, he wasn't 'not giving her a chance', and he wasn't frightened by her 'mother figure' presence. He just plain didn't like her.
For now, he was willing to try and forget her stench and chat with Barbara, their meal giving way to video games and then, at Alfred's intervention, to Dick's homework with Barbara offering to help. Dick was even gracious enough to accept the help, even though he didn't really need it, but finally Barbara left and it was just Dick and Alfred eating dinner. Bruce was still out with her. An hour later, unable to stand waiting around, Dick went to practice some gymnastics.
He was only just getting into the workout when he felt a pair of eyes on him. He finished the routine and turned, an excuse on his lips as to why he was there without a spotter. Only, it wasn't Bruce.
Myrie, once she saw he knew she was there, began to clap her hands together, a smile of delight upon her face that didn't quite match her eyes.
"Really, that was brilliant!" she exclaimed, "No one said you were so talented!"
"I used to be in the circus," Dick answered, abruptly, and didn't explain any more. He approached her slowly, trying to keep from gagging as he was hit by her perfume. It reminded him of any number of debilitating poisons various criminals had tried to use to dispatch him, and it made him want to react. He resisted and tried to give her a cautious grin. "Where's Bruce?" he asked.
"Oh, he's about somewhere," she answered, still smiling sweetly.
"Why are you still here?" was his next question, and the smile faltered. Then it returned and she approached him, reaching out her arms to hold him as though in a motherly embrace. It made him feel uncomfortable; Bruce certainly wasn't one for hugs, and the smell of violets was as strong as ever. He tensed in her arms, unable to keep from wrinkling his nose.
"My dear boy," she said, "I know just how you feel. You've had Bruce all to yourself for years, and now, suddenly, this strange person has waltzed in and you feel displaced. But we can be friends too, don't you think, Richard?" And as she talked she moved her hands, caressing his chest with one while her other ruffled his hair, pulling his head down awkwardly into her bosom. "I think a woman's touch is just what you boys need."
"We don't need a woman's touch!" he exclaimed, pulling away from her arms, "We don't need you!" He turned to storm angrily away only to come face to face with Bruce Wayne.
"Dick!" he cried, his voice stern and disapproving, and Dick wondered when he had appeared. The teen ignored him, stomping down the hall and refusing to stop though Bruce called after him.