2nd Arranged Mrriage trailer made by BlueBeetlesGal . Thank you!

The wedding planner reminds me of the women at foundation parties who don't fit in, because their jewels aren't real and their dresses aren't designer.

She has that bob that all soccer moms seem to get after they turn fifty; high at the back with extra volume. Her glasses are halfway down her nose and her teeth are large when she smiles.

"So your preferred venue is the beach for the ceremony?" She asks with that same smile. I quickly glance down at my hand, resting as far away from Richard's as possible.

"Yes, preferably the one outside my house."

The woman- Anna, her name is -nods as she writes.

"Oh, beach weddings are all the rage in this city!" She says in a shrill, excited tone. I want to die. "So I have here that the venue will be at one of your hotels...is that the Wayne Coastline Plaza or Palace of the Shore by Perich Inc.?"

I cringe at the name of one of my family's company's hotels. 'Palace of the Shore by Perich Inc.'. It sounds like the company released a perfume. Class has never come easily to my father. I suppose him putting three of his children in an arranged marriage is evidence of that.

"We'll be using Palace of the Shore, since it's just a mile down the road," Dick answers when I fail to.

Anna smiles, writing down that as well. This is why we have her here. She's not only the 'best' when it comes to extravagant weddings, as ours will be, but she is good with her time.

Since we only have a few week to prepare.

She knows. Of course, she knows. And she's been contracted and pay-bound to keep quiet on the fact that the whole thing is a hoax.

"So there are a couple things to organise. You lawyers have forwarded me most of it, constructed by Mr Wayne and Mrs Perich." I had hoped my mother had more of a say than my father. Thank the sky he knows where he has little talent.

"Are we able to view all of it?" Richard presses. His light voice sounds strange in such an empty tone. It also seems ridiculous that we may be contractually banned from viewing the plans of our own wedding. 

"Of course! Some areas have options you will need to decide on. First of all, you have no cap on your costs, but you do have a bar of $5 million. As long as you pass that amount the contract stays in place."

So my father can't be philanthropic at all, but he can spend over $5 million on a fake wedding. Over $15 million if you include Demitri and Ethan's.

"I have been given a guest list, the dates, an officiant, celebrity musicians, florists, photographers, media coverage, catering and invitations. I have files for both of you containing all of that information. Miss Perich, I've been told you'd like to organise your own hair, make-up and dress?"

What? "And, who told you that?"

Anna blinks as if she were not expecting that answer. I didn't think I'd get any say at all, to be honest. I've been sulking about it for a while.

"Your mother," she finally answers, sounding confused before leaning down to pick up the files that must be going to us.

My mother. Maybe she felt bad and thought it might help ease some of the dread over this situation? Or, perhaps she knew I'd want no style of dress but my own?

"What I need from you two is input on how you want the day to run. I believe the two of you are at the quarter mark of your contract prior to the wedding. Two weeks of dating, two weeks of publicly wearing a ring. Mr Perich and Mr Wayne agreed that an engagement party should take place in one month, two weeks prior to the wedding. First from the two of you, I need best man, maid of honour, groomsman and bridesmaids. If you please, turn to the second page."

I take the ugly orange file from her and open it up. I'm looking at a plain page, asking the questions that need answers Anna can work with.

"As you can see, you'll need to list people there. That exact amount. On the next page are the examples of flowers and decoration. You'll each need to vote which colours you like best. Next is..."

I really, really want to die.

◊

◊

I make sure to walk Richard to his glossy sports car in the driveway, allowing our 24hour paps to get their images. Contract; it's all about the contract.

His smile is so charming it could be mistaken for real, as he waves and climbs into the front seat.

I wait impatiently until he drives off, before turning back to the house. The file is in my hand as I stride through the front door.

It's no longer in my hand when I fling it to the side and it crashes against my mother's tribute images to her children. It hits Gordon's, knocking the frame to the ground.

The dress. I get to pick the dress and the bridesmaid's gowns and the people. Even that sounds exhausting.

"How'd it go?" I hear Demitri ask as he walks down the hallway. I drop down on the couch, slumping back into the arm.

"It was simple," I answer as he sits down across from me. "Very...clinical."

He nods at the minute information.

"That the file on the wedding?" He asks, nodding over to the wall. I shake my head and he gets up, moving towards it. I suppose he should get an idea.

Just as Dimitri picks up the orange folder, there are a range of whispers from down the hallway. I was hoping it'd be one of my younger siblings. They make me smile and that's what I need right now.

But they're all at school. Only Demitri and Ethan should be here.

So when Ethan's 'friend' of five years, Chris, emerges from the hallway smiling to himself I'm not surprised.

"Hello," I venture, standing up with a new smile. Chris went to school with us, a few years below me with Ethan. The boys were friends until their last year, when it became something more.

"Hey!" He replies excitedly, opening his arms wide. Oh. A hug. Spend enough time in violent places you get used to anything but sentimental gestures.

"How are you? Haven't seen you in a while," I say, wrapping my arms around him quickly as I speak.

"Yeah, where you been?" Demitri adds on, coming up behind me to shake Chris' hand. 

Chris goes to answer, but turns his head to Ethan when he emerges from the hallway looking slightly dishevelled. Oh. Oh. 

"Let him go. I interrogated him enough," Ethan says with a slight smile, trying to hide the expression by staring at the floor.

My brother and his boyfriend. Chris is lovely- tall, dark-skinned and kind. After high school he and Ethan went to Harvard Business together. When they got their degrees, Ethan came back to start training to take over the company and Chris did the same for his mother's shipping company.

It feels a little stony between them. It's something I pick up on quickly after training to recognise hostage situations.

My guess is Ethan has just told Chris he's also getting married. To a girl.

Suddenly, an idea forms in my head. 

I glance between my brothers and Chris, before taking the wedding folder from Demitri's hand.

They watch silently as I flip through the pages, opening up to the schedule for the day. It goes from getting ready in the morning to the reception dinner. 

The reception itself has its own plan, including speeches and throwing the damn bouquet.

Finally my idea has a beginning, middle and end. I smile and the three men in front of me.

"Want to ruin dad's plan?"

Simultaneously they glance at each other, confused but clearly intrigued.

"His plan...as in his plan to marry off all of us?"

I shake my head, "Too late for me. I say we minimise his desired results by taking at least one of us out of the equation."

After a few seconds, it seems to slowly dawn on Chris and Ethan, because they've spoken to me before about the topic.

"I'm not attending my wedding reception without a say in how it goes. And it's going to go...dramatically."

◊

◊

"Heard you're breaking rules, kid," Jason says when he enters the hotel room, computers, weapons and files scattered around the decorated space, reminding them all of the cave.

"It was just a date," Tim says dismissively without looking up from his screen to his older brother.

"Yeah," Jason laughs, reaching for Tim's collar and pulling it down to reveal a very hickey-like 'bruise', "Just a date. Hallow Perich as boring as her sister?"

Jason hadn't expected Tim to swivel his chair around, slapping the hand off of his shirt.

"What do you have against her? You're not marrying her, Dick is. She served her country. She hasn't done anything wrong. What's your problem?" He snaps.

The silence is pin-drop-like, the occurrence of Tim lashing out a Jason rare. The two may be in agreement now, but the fragility of that bond exists, preventing them from threatening it with a fight.

But Tim has had enough. He can't perceive why Jason dislikes her. Many are against Soldiers and Marines because they kill people. That certainly wouldn't be the cause of Jason's hate.

The older man frowns and starts backing away, just as the door opens and Dick enters.

"What's going on?" He asks, noticing the uncomfortable silence immediately.

"Just teasing Timmy about his paramour," is all he is given from Jason, who turns to his make-shift work bench. Tim decides not to add anything to it, closing his laptop and standing up.

He doesn't look at or speak to Dick when he walks past him.

As Bruce owns the hotel, the entire top floor and penthouse is being used by the five Waynes. He takes the stairs up to the penthouse where Damian is drawing in peace and quiet, and Bruce is dealing with business.

Ignoring his youngest brother, Tim walks into Bruce's office. The man looks up from his desk.

"What is it, Tim?" He asks, noticing the confused urgency in his face.

"Cleopatra Perich's Elite files," he says, opening up his laptop, "They're fake."