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Summary
When Tim embarked on a mission that necessitated sneaking into a fancy party as Caroline Hill, he thought he’d been prepared for anything. Man-Bats. Two-Face. Poison Ivy. He’d even been prepared to get hit on by a dozen rich, older men who were willing to shell out for as much top-shelf vodka as necessary to feel like they had a beautiful young woman’s attention.
He just hadn’t expected one of those men to be Bruce.
And then a familiar voice purrs in his ear, “Well, aren’t you just gorgeous. What do you say to a drink? On me.”
Tim’s—or, rather, Caroline’s—first thought is, He must know it’s me.
His—or, rather, her—second thought is, This lead isn’t panning out anyway, so fuck it.
A fic that started with the thought "What if Caroline Hill mommy dommed Bruce Wayne?" and somehow spiralled into an exploration of Bruce and Tim having DID (and also Caroline Hill mommy domming Bruce Wayne).