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Hal laid back on the armchair in the parlor and took another sip of coffee. If you had asked him a couple of years ago if he would ever be here, in Wayne Manor of all places, casually sipping a coffee and reading his flight charts, he would have laughed and called you delusional. And yet, a relationship had flourished between him and Bruce that he would never have expected. What started off as insults and cutting comments became playful, then outright flirtatious. It wasn’t long afterwards that a casual fling came about, slowly and not without conflict turning into the best relationship Hal had ever had. And so here he was, sitting in his boyfriend’s manor, drinking coffee that his boyfriend’s butler had made him, waiting for him to come home so that they could go out to dinner.
“Hey Hal,” Tim peeked around the door. It was still somewhat strange, seeing Bruce and the kids act so much like a family when they weren’t fighting crime. Seeing Tim here, outside of his Red Robin costume and dressed in sweats and a tee, he looked so much like any other seventeen-year-old and not a crime-fighting genius. “Have you seen Bruce?”
“Uh, I think he said that he was going to a PTA meeting?” Hal didn’t look up from the flight chart he was supposed to be reading, but he couldn’t hide the smile that rose to his face. The goddamn Batman at a PTA meeting. Now that was a great image.
“Oh no.” Tim paled. “Oh shit. How’d he even find out? I thought I’d intercepted those emails.” And there the crime-fighting genius part was.
“I think another parent told him. Is something wrong?”
“You could say that. We don’t really let Bruce go to PTA meetings any more. He gets a little intense.”
“Oh, I’m sure he can’t be that bad, now can’t he?” Bruce could get intense at times, sure, but still mostly a hands-off parent. He didn’t really seem the type to get heavily involved in something like the PTA.
“Hey Timmers, Hal.” Came a new voice. Dick appeared at the doorway, still wearing his jacket and holding a Starbucks cup. Hal made a mental note to buy him a gift card or something to thank him for covering so many patrols so that Hal and Bruce could actually go out like a normal couple once in a while. “What’s up?”
“Bruce is at a PTA meeting,” Tim said. A look of panic spread across Dick’s face.
“Oh fuck. How did he find out? I thought you intercepted those emails?”
“Apparently another parent told him.” Tim sighed. “I can’t believe it.”
“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Hal interrupted their shared panic. “I mean, I think it’s kinda sweet that he’s taking an interest.”
“No Hal, you don’t understand. This is Bruce we’re talking about. He doesn’t just ‘take an interest. He gets obsessive about it.”
“Especially if he runs into her.” Tim’s voice dropped to an innocent whisper.
“Her?” Hal asked. The two brothers looked at each other hesitantly.
“Margie Dawson.” Dick whispered the name as if he were talking about a deadly supervillain and not a middle-aged woman who was a member of the PTA.
“Margie - “ Hal began before he was shushed violently.
“Don’t ever let Bruce hear you say that name!” Tim hissed. “Not unless you want to be lectured to death.”
As if on cue, they heard the front door violently slam open, followed by a frustrated loud voice.
“Fucking Margie Dawson!” The three of them looked to each other quickly, the boys smiling sympathetically and apologetically at Hal’s surprised expression. Bruce approached the crowded hallway, his jacket over his arm and the grim look on his face he got when he was angry.
“Tim, why didn’t you tell me that there was a PTA meeting? Or that you were helping out at the Academy’s charity gala?” Bruce kept his voice calm and level, but underneath the surface a well of annoyance was visible. “I’m happy that you’re getting more involved, but I would have liked you to tell me. I shouldn’t have to find these things out from Margie Dawson, of all people.”
“And that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you, Bruce.” Tim rolled his eyes. “You get way to intense about this stuff, especially when she-who-must-not-be-named is involved.”
“I do not get too intense!” Bruce protested. “I’m just not going to let that Margie Dawson stand there and accuse me of being an ‘uninvolved parent.’”
“Okay, okay.” Hal set down his flight charts and coffee. “Just who the hell is this Margie Dawson lady?”
“She’s just another lady at the PTA.” Tim sighed.
“She just really knows how to get under my skin.” Bruce walked over to Hal and slid an arm around his waist, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “She just loves to make her little snide and judgemental little comments about how insufficient of a parent I am.” This was the side of Bruce that Hal had never really seen before they started dating. He’d known that Bruce had kids, and he’d seen them with them plenty of times, but it was only when they got together that Hal had realized that Bruce was a dad. Somehow, between running a multibillion-dollar company and fighting crime in a batsuit every night, Bruce had enough time to be a parent. And a pretty good one at that. He could somewhat understand why this Margie woman seemed to rub Bruce the wrong way so much.
“Well then in that case she does sound terrible.” Hal tilted his head back and pressed a kiss to Bruce’s temple. “Come on, we’re going to miss our reservation.” Hal was still getting used to the whole ‘having so much money and power that you can literally do anything you want, including show up to a restaurant half an hour late and you’ll still get away with it’, and still couldn’t get past the anxiety of missing a reservation or appointment.
Throughout their date, Hal heard plenty more about Margie Dawson. Apparently, she had too much plastic surgery, a terrible dye job, and wore way too much makeup. She had a son called Harrison, who was the same age as Tim, who she thought was absolutely perfect even though he couldn’t hold a candle to any of Bruce’s children. She flitted around like she owned the place in last year’s Versace and the thought of her made Bruce sick.
“Did you know that one time Margie Dawson had the audacity to tell me that she thought that Jason was too disruptive? Jason? When her little twerp Trevor had crashed three cars that year.” Bruce had grumbled as they sat down to eat.
“- so hypocritical of Margie Dawson to comment on me getting botox when we can all tell just how many facelifts she’s had”
“She had the gall to make snide little remarks about how she was worried how the boys were going to grow up without any female influence.”
“Oh, and don’t think I don’t know just what kinds of political donations her husband has been making for all these years. Completely insufferable, the pair of them.”
Hal sighed into his expensive steak. It was delicious, but his mood had been soured by Bruce’s fixation over a PTA mom all evening.
“Babe, can we talk about something else? Literally anything else? You’ve been complaining about this lady all night.”
“Sorry.” Bruce smiled apologetically. “I don’t know what it is, but there’s just something about her that I can’t stand.”
“Oh she sounds like a nightmare.” Hal reached across the table and took Bruce’s hand in his. “Which is why you should forget all about her, order us another bottle of wine and then we can spend the rest of the night in the penthouse, where we can be as loud as we want.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Just as long as you stop bitching about her.”
“Fine.” Bruce replied, and called a waiter over to order another bottle of their finest Pinot Noir.
~~
Over the next couple of weeks, Hal had grown terribly sick and tired of hearing Bruce talk about Margie Dawson. If Bruce even so much as mentioned her name, Hal would promptly pull up a construct of a pair of earmuffs and would refuse to take them off until Bruce stopped talking.
“I see why you kids don’t let him go to PTA meetings any more.” Hal commiserated to Tim over his coffee one morning. “Is he like this every time?”
“Oh trust me.” Tim replied, pouring himself a second cup. “This is nothing yet. He can get much, much worse. Just be glad that parents aren’t supposed to help out at the gala, or you would see him get ready to fistfight her.” Hal couldn’t help but chuckle at the image.
“Speaking of the gala,” He mused. “Since when did you get involved in stuff like that? I didn’t picture you as much of a joiner.” The soft blush that spread across Tim’s cheeks told Hal all he needed to know.
“Ooh, is this for a girl? A boy?” Hal pressed. “Fill me in, kid.”
“It’s not like that.” Tim protested.
“Kid, I once spent a whole semester in my high school’s production of Oklahoma because I wanted to impress a girl. I know a high school crush when I see one.”
“Well, there is a guy.” Tim responded slowly.
“Yeah?”
“He’s president of the Events Committee and he really loves stuff like this. And I was the only other one who volunteered to dress up for the drag show we’re doing.”
“Ah, nothing says young love like slipping on a pretty dress and a face full of makeup to woo your crush.” Hal smiled.
“Shut up.” Tim scowled.
“Hey, I’m just kidding! By the way, what’s your drag name going to be? Timberly?”
“Shut up!” Tim repeated, but this time holding back laughter.
“Timberly is a terrible drag name, Hal.” Bruce grumbled as he slowly made his way to the breakfast table and poured himself a coffee. He gulped down half the mug and sighed before continuing to speak. “You should go with something more poetic. Or funny. Funny ones are always good.”
“And there’s absolutely no chance you can’t make it tonight?” Tim asked.
“I got Dick and Jason to cover me for patrols, and the league knows not to disturb me unless it’s an emergency. I’m going to be there, kiddo.” Bruce sipped his coffee. Tim paused for a second, clearly weighing up the pros and cons of causing an international incident to get out of minor parental embarrassment, before leaving the breakfast table.
“Please don’t be too embarrassing.” He sighed as he departed.
~~
That evening, Bruce and Hal donned their tuxedos and went to the charity gala. With expensive champagne and ice sculptures, it was worlds away from the high school fundraisers that Hal had went to, with signs made from poster board and markers. But he guessed that was what happened when you were part of Gotham’s elite. Even high schools had better parties than Hal was used to. If he was honest with himself, he’d always felt out of place at places like this, and he was incredibly thankful for Bruce’s strong arm around him and Tim waiting somewhere backstage. Maybe this wasn’t what he was used to, but he could do it for his family.
He had been sipping his champagne casually when he was interrupted by a gentle nudge to his middle.
“Oh God,” Bruce whispered. “There she is, in that lime green monstrosity.” Hal did not need to even wonder who Bruce was talking about. Standing a few feet away from them in a sparkly lime green dress was the infamous Margie Dawson, terrible roots and all. She caught sight of Bruce and broke into a painfully false, exaggerated smile.
“Brucie!” She stalked over to them. “It’s so good to see you here! I’m glad you decided to take some time out of your busy schedule to show up.” Hal felt Bruce grip him around the waist as he smiled acidly.
“Well, you know Margie I’m never too busy for my kids,” Bruce replied.
“Oh, of course, of course.” She maintained her cold and ingenuine smile as she turned toward Hal. “And who is this handsome fellow?”
“This is my partner. Hal.” Bruce replied with an icy smile plastered on his face.
“Hal Jordan.” Hal extended a hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“Margie Dawson.” She delicately took his hand and dropped it almost instantly. She then began to drone on about her incredibly talented children who had worked so hard at the positions their father had given them in his company, her recent vacation to Tahiti where she stayed in a luxury private resort away from all those pesky locals and of course her new (Bruce had pointed out later that they were quite blatantly last season’s) Loubiton heels that her husband had romantically surprised her with. After two minutes Hal found himself praying for an intergalactic emergency just so that he had an excuse to sneak out of the conversation. Eventually, Hal and Bruce did manage to escape, making a beeline straight for the bar.
“God, you’re right, she’s terrible.” Hal muttered under his breath as he grabbed two old fashioneds from the bartender and passed one to Bruce.
“I know right? Horrendous.” Bruce had whispered back. “Come on, let’s find somewhere with a good view, the show is starting.” And so they headed back to the main stage and found a spot with a good view. Tim took to the stage with unsurprising grace and beauty. Hal turned to Bruce to find him wearing the softest smile that he only very rarely wore, full of pride for his son. He bathed in the glow of a proud parent for a few moments before it was interrupted by a very deliberate clearing of a throat. He turned to the source of the sound to see the dreaded Margie Dawson, martini in hand with a disapproving look on her face.
“Is something the matter?” Hal asked.
“Well, it’s lovely, of course, but it isn’t really suitable is it? I mean, what would the veterans think if they saw this?” She replied with a patronizing smile. Hal tightened his grip on his glass.
“Well, I don’t know about the other ones, but I think it’s great,” Hal swirled his drink nonchalontly. “That’s what we fought for, right? Freedom to do stuff like this.”
“Wait-” Margie’s face paled the way people’s faces tended to do when they underestimated him. “Are you saying that you’re-”
“Yep.” Hal grinned. “Before I went private, I was and Air Force Captain. Did a few tours in Khandahar and everything.”
“Oh well, thank you for your service and all.” Margie hurriedly replied. “I was just saying that, you know, the way they’re dressed. It’s not exactly suitable for a night like this is it?”
“I agree.” Bruce interjected, turning to face them.
“Huh?”
“Tim looks good, but he really isn’t a summer. Especially for an evening event, he should be wearing a deeper red lip, don’t you think, dear?” Bruce flashed Hal that mischievous grin again.
“They really did drop the ball by not having him in jewel tones, too.” Hal replied, relishing in Margie’s perturbed expression. “They suit him so well.” Margie shot them a cold look, before she turned around and hurried off, likely in search of someone who would put up with her crap. Bruce chuckled as he slid an arm around Hal’s waist, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“That was fantastic.” Bruce whispered in the low voice that always got Hal going. “What you did back there.”
“Is this really doing something for you?” Hal whispered back incrediously. “Are you sure you’re not the insufferable one?”
“I’ll give you a blowjob in the supply closet if you can spill your drink on her.” Bruce replied impishly. Hal took one look at Bruce and grinned, taking a long swig from his glass.
“Oh Margie!” Hal called out, scanning the crowd for a shock of sparkly lime green. “Please dear, could I speak with you for a moment?” He headed off in Margie’s direction, drink in his hand and a plan forming in his head. It was going to be a good night.