Chapter Text
You never knew how easy you had it in your life until life wasn’t easy anymore.
Clark loved Bruce; he really did, and he loved the kids just as much, even when they bit, kicked, and slapped. He loved Bruce, and he loved his family, warts and all.
If only loving Bruce wasn’t so hard with other people around.
Now, don’t get him wrong, Bruce wasn’t the problem, of course not. The problem was every other alpha in this damned Gala that wanted a piece of Bruce’s pie. Even now, with Clark's big, weighty engagement ring fitted rather nicely, if Clark could say so himself, around Bruce’s finger, the attention hardly dwindled.
In fact, Clark couldn’t help but notice how, in moments when Bruce would politely take an alpha's hand in a friendly shake, their finger tips would graze the lip of the ring, almost teasingly, or how they held on just seconds longer than considered normal, almost begging Bruce to take their hands to run away.
Clark wouldn’t put it past the rich alphas of Gotham if the ring only made them even more tenacious, as if they thought they could grab Bruce’s eye at any given moment and sweep him off his feet into fairytale land; hell, marriage probably wouldn’t leave Bruce off the table for the sleazy alpha elites.
The only comforting thought was that Clark wasn’t the only one who had noticed those hungry eyes and lingering touches; he could tell that the kids were just as frustrated having to watch creepy alphas flirt over their very much taken male omega mother.
And then it kinda clicked, this secret pact they managed to form between each other, with just singular looks in one another's direction. One look, and they would know.
It was not so formally named, operation: creeps back off.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
Each tactic was unique.
Steph’s and Cass’s seemingly subtle approach was much more hands-on, if you really looked at it, literally and figuratively.
“Hold still, Mama. It’s smudging,” Cass reprimanded with a huff as she leaned over Bruce’s hands. Steph filed down Bruce’s other nail with, delegated to clean up as she nested all the tiny mistakes in Cass’s rushed paint job; however, she did so with a bubbly smile.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Bruce winced, eyes flickering from the closet to Cass’s face, which stared down intently at Bruce's nails as she steadily drew a straight line across the bed with the polish. While Bruce did love spending time with his pups, he was also a creature of habit, and having grown up with Alfred for years, who kept him on a strict schedule, breaking even a bit out of that schedule was a task that wasn’t as easy as it should be.
“Your hands are so…perfect, mama,” Steph drawled, eyes wide in earnest as she wiped away stray polish that stuck to Bruce’s cuticle. Bruce giggled. “Thank you, sweet girl. Though I can’t say I’ve heard that one before,”
Steph flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Well, it's true.” She shrugged, smile widening, which of course, Bruce returned fully.
“Done! What do you think?” Steph beamed, blowing on Bruce’s nails a few times before Bruce raised them to eye level. The nails were completely painted black, dotted with dark blue and red rhinestones.
“It’s gorgeous.” The praise radiated from Bruce’s eyes, crinkling the corners of his mouth and all, and Cass and Steph soaked it in, as satisfied as the cat who ate the canary.
“Perfect then, huh?” Cass’s grin curled mischievously, eyeing Jason from the doorway as he leaned in, arms crossed. “People will be drooling over you all night, Mama. They won’t miss a thing.”
Bruce tsked, shaking his head fondly as he stood, tucking the chair into the vanity. Steph and Cass took notice of how he bent his fingers, ensuring the polish wouldn’t smudge.
Before fully leaving the room, he opened his arms, allowing the girls to fall into his warm embrace. Briefly pecking their cheeks and drowning them in his sweet scent of cinnamon and powder.
“They’re beautiful, girls. Thank you,” He crooned, turning to leave, most likely to check up on how Clark was doing in wrangling the other pups into their outfits. He patted Jason on the shoulder, leaning in to nuzzle his cheek as well, which Jason half-heartedly batted away.
It didn’t take long before Steph trailed behind, gosling to its mother goose, giggling behind her hands. “Y’know, I was insisting on pink polish.” Cass and Jason heard as their voices faded down the hall.
“What are you two buttering Mom up for?” He questioned wearily. Cass’s lips turned. “What, we can’t compliment our mom?” She challenged, squinting her eyes.
Jason threw his hands up in surrender. “Of course we can. It’s all true anyway.”
Cass threw her head to the side. “If you must know, it was Steph’s idea. Not only are we making Mama feel good, which is good, but we’re desensitizing him from all those creeps who are gonna leer,”
Jason nodded.
“Another thing, I thought we were trying to make him less noticeable, remember, so creeps will leave him alone,” Jason cocked his head to the side, eyebrows arched, picking up one of the bottles and turning it this way and that with scrutiny. “How’s lavishing him with makeup gonna keep heads away?”
Cass stretched, groaning as she cracked the crick in her back. “There’s no way we can make Mom unnoticeable. We could try and make him as ugly as possible, and he’d still out-beautify everyone in this city,” She snorted, snatching the bottle out of Jason’s hands. Which he didn’t fight on.
Jason rolled his eyes, not that he could disagree. “But, what's with the polish? I fail to see how that’s gonna help us.”
“Because,” Cass started, back facing Jason as she collected the bottles, they clacked together in her flaccid grip. “People notice the little things, even the darkest polish on someone’s finger, especially of their shiny.” She shook the bag of rhinestones for emphasis.
“So? Just spit it out, already,” Jason gruffed, arms folded over his chest in impatience.
“So, people’s eyes will first be drawn by Mom’s polish, and then they’ll definitely notice Mom’s engagement ring,” Cass smirked, lips quirked devilishly.
“You think that’ll be enough for those assholes to back off?”
“Maybe some of them,” Cass shrugged. “But it’s not as if we can’t take the persistent ones on our own,”
Jason’s chest puffed, shoulder barred. “Damn right.” He harumphed.
“I hate to interrupt you, Miss Cassandra and Master Jason, but Master Bruce is currently waiting for your arrival in the den. It is almost time for your departure.” Alfred appeared with a monotonous expression. Jason and Cass would be lying if they said they hadn't jumped. Only Alfred could achieve such a thing.
“Thanks, Alfie,” Jason called over his shoulder as he and Cass hurried out of the room.
Master Jason. Miss Cassandra,” Alfred called. The two stopped in their tracks.
“See that you keep any deviant from ruining Master Bruce’s night in check. I trust it’s under control.” He said, unblinkingly and without a stutter.
“Of course, Al.” Jason smiled toothily. Alfred nodded, seemingly satisfied.
With that, the two bounded down the steps. They couldn’t keep their mother waiting any longer.