Gotham Goon Gacha (DC/Chaos Gacha): Chapter 54 (Patreon)

[Rolling Gold Gacha Ticket]

[Expert Driving]

|Elite Skill|

You are an expert driver for all kinds of vehicles, ranging from scooters to spaceships. You can probably outmaneuver a motorcycle while riding a tricycle. If it has controls to steer it, you can make that baby purr for you in ways others can only dream of.

My head ached for a moment as knowledge of hundreds of different riding methods flooded my mind.

“Ugh…” I leaned against the bar.

Almost intuitively, I knew I could race NASCAR with the best of them or pilot a plane like a pro. Hell, I could drift like a king even in one of those weird hotdog trucks.

It was a freaking awesome skill, don’t get me wrong, but I would’ve preferred the process not making me feel like I was having a stroke.

“You okay?” a familiar voice asked.

“Just drank a bit too much. Oh…” I looked back and paused. “Small world, isn’t it?”

“Right…” A redheaded girl in a wheelchair chuckled.

“I don’t think I ever actually got your name, Ms…?” I held out my hand.

“Barbara.” She shook my hand before gesturing to the black-haired man next to her. “This is my friend.”

“Richard.” He stuck out his hand. “Most people call me Dick, though.”

My eyes widened. “Your last name wouldn’t happen to be Grayson, would it?”

“Yes.” Dick gave me a polite smile. “Bruce is my adopted father—”

“You’re a Flying Grayson!”

I grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously.

“You know the Flying Graysons?” he asked, taken aback.

“I don’t just know them, I’m a huge fan.” I laughed. “When I was a kid, I was lucky enough to catch a few shows of Haley’s Circus.”

“That so?” A genuine smile crossed Dick’s face. “What were your favorite acts?”

“Oh, I loved your trapeze acts, but the elephant show was amazing too.” I smiled at the fond memories. “I forgot her name, but that elephant was a real riot…”

“Probably Sitka.” Dick chuckled while shaking his head. “She was a real gremlin.”

“Oh man, you gotta give me the scoop about the circus!” 

“Well…” Dick shot a look at Barbara.

Barbara was shooting Dick a harsh look right back, and she wasn’t being subtle about it.

Was I interrupting her date or something?

Whoops.

Still, I couldn’t help it. The chance to fanboy over two of my favorite celebrities in one night was too good to pass up.

I waved a waiter over and ordered drinks for the three of us. At least I could give her a token apology.

“Now, dude, spill. How did they make the tigers disappear?”

“Well…” Dick smiled as he leaned in conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anybody I told you, but there was this jury-rigged system behind the main curtain...”

I leaned in, completely enraptured as Dick launched into his story with gusto

Not sure why Barbara looked so exasperated.—Barbara could admit, freely and without shame, that she had lied a little to Bruce about coming as “analytical” support.

Oh, the several-page docket she and Dick had put together to explain why Bruce needed backup logically was sound, of course. Bruce was too stubborn to ignore a truly logical and “key” support role for the mission.

Even if it wasn’t lost on either of them that they mostly wanted to see Bruce get absolutely embarrassed into oblivion.

And oh, did they get to watch a show.

She still had to hold herself back from giggling just remembering Bruce’s face.

Barbara was very glad she had made sure to catch every single angle of that exchange. For heroic purposes, of course.

Still, she was beginning to understand Bruce’s annoyance with Jean Valjean. A simple smile and a conversation had somehow turned into this.

Jean and Dick had their arms hanging over each other’s shoulders, laughing like they were the best of friends.

As if he had forgotten any semblance of their mission, Dick was drunk out of his mind, having completely lost himself in the conversation and his own reminiscing about the circus.

It was a little terrifying, mostly because she couldn’t tell where Jean Valjean’s “luck” ended. Was it guiding his choices, nudging him into the luckiest possible actions to befriend Dick, or was that simply his charisma at play?

Despite the confusion, it was still good data. Hopefully, when they got back to the cave, they would be able to parse this into something useful.

“I see you’ve become acquainted.”

Bruce walked over with his polite business face on. No doubt he was tired from dealing with his new social media craze.

“Mr. Wayne!” Jean unhooked himself from Dick to pull out a chair for Bruce. “I didn’t want to interrupt you while you were on fire, dealing with the crowd. Just, wow. Real amazing stuff!”

“…Thank you,” Bruce replied, though Barbara could tell the words came out like pulling teeth.

She had the tact to at least bite her tongue. Maybe because Dick was too drunk to bother, he just snorted outright.

Jean didn’t seem to notice, though, as he continued to wax poetic about Bruce’s charismatic skill.

Even as Bruce Wayne, it was rare to see him so thoroughly on the back foot.

It was so freaking hilarious.

“Ah!” Jean slapped his forehead. “What am I doing? I haven’t bought you a drink yet. Waiter—”

“It’s fine!” Bruce hurriedly interjected. “Instead, how about you pay me back with a good conversation?”

Wow.

Very subtle, Bruce.

Though honestly, she couldn’t blame him.

Jean didn’t seem to notice and simply nodded.

“Okay… still, I should’ve brought a gift. I could’ve brought one of my personal vintages.” Jean sighed. “But I left it—”

A wine bottle fell from seemingly nowhere and landed in his hands.

For a moment, the three of them just stared at Jean in shocked silence.

“Oh!” Jean raised a thumbs-up toward absolutely nothing. “Thanks!”

This was going to be a long conversation, wasn’t it?

—Barbara had to admit the wine tasted absolutely amazing.

She wasn’t a big drinker, but even she found herself taken by it. Smooth, rich, and just strong enough to make it clear it was alcohol rather than some perfect fruit juice.

Although, honestly, the conversation was so amusing that she couldn’t focus on the wine for long.

Jean Valjean was very drunk, yet somehow still obviously lucid. His cheeks were flushed, his gestures were a little too wide, and his voice kept slipping into dramatic outrage.

But his eyes were focused.

His words mostly made sense.

He still seemed aware of the room around him in a way most drunk people absolutely were not.

Some sort of side effect of his abilities, probably. Barbara quietly noted that down for later.

“Really, who does he think he is?” Jean demanded, waving one hand in the air. “Staring down at us from those gargoyles! I bet he’s up there brooding about cutting all our balls off.”

Bruce went very still.

Barbara took a slow sip of wine to hide her smile.

“Yes…” Bruce coughed. “So, about you, Jean—”

“Yeah!” Dick chimed in, raising his glass. “Batman’s a stubborn asshole who never knows when to quit.”

Bruce twitched.

Jean nodded absently, as if that were simply common knowledge. “Hear, hear!”

“Batman’s a huge hypocrite too, probably.” Barbara couldn’t help but chime in. “Bet he’s the type of guy to tell everyone else to listen to his advice, then ignore it himself.”

“Preach, sister!” Jean cheered.

Bruce simply looked at her tiredly.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t stop.

“Batman probably doesn’t trust people nearly as much as he should,” Barbara snipped out.

“I could see it.” Jean nodded sagely. “No doubt the man is an emo!”

Dick made a strangled noise into his glass, nearly choking on his drink.

“I think Batman has very good reasons for the way he operates,” Bruce replied, his voice tired in a way Barbara had never heard before.

“I heard he broods in a cave like a real bat,” Lois said, appearing at the edge of the table with Clark beside her. 

Clark, beside her, looked from Jean to Bruce to the table, visibly fighting a smile. 

“Do you mind if we sit?” Clark asked.

“Not at all!” Jean said brightly, already gesturing to the open seats. “We’re dissing Batman for his many crimes!”

Lois smiled.

It was not a kind smile.

“Oh,” she said, pulling out a chair. “Then I definitely want to sit down.”

Bruce’s face immediately fell into his hands.***Sorry for the delay! Hopefully, life stops throwing curveballs at me.