Chapter Text
The woman who walked into Bruce’s office stomped her really tall heels with so much force that Dick almost got up and stopped her from getting any closer, just in case she had a camera…or a gun.
Her hair was super long, and super blonde—like, as blonde as the people he’d seen in Norway —and her loose white shirt kind of billowed like a cape as she stalked up to Bruce’s desk.
“Bruce,” she hissed through her perfect teeth, “ when are you going to start consulting me on things like this?” and slammed down an open laptop.
Bruce winced and shrank into his seat, but he kind of did that whenever anybody talked to him, so Dick decided the lady wasn’t a threat for now. He went back to moving the pieces on Bruce’s boring modern chess board into little patterns, but he watched carefully out of the corner of his eye.
“Mackenzie…”
“I had to find out on Twitter , Bruce. I had to find out on Twitter .” The lady leaned over her laptop and clacked her long nails on the desk in a long, sharp line.
Bruce winced a little and looked over at Dick, like he wasn’t sure he should be here for this. Which convinced Dick even more that he needed to stay. “That bad, huh?”
“I could have had photographers planted at every single angle,” she fumed, running her hand through her hair and messing it up a little. Dick got the impression that she didn’t do that a lot. “Or, God forbid, had a statement ready to give to the flock of paparazzi lined up all the way down 13th—”
“ Mackenzie .” Bruce stood up, and his eyebrows were furrowed, and his voice was kind of rough and angry. Dick hadn’t ever seen him do that before. “He isn’t some publicity stunt.”
Mackenzie’s shoulders sloped a little, and she collapsed into one of the cushy chairs. “Do you have any idea how bad this looks?”
Bruce sat down too, and he sighed. “Yeah.”
“You basically walked in and stole him.”
“I know. Is it really that bad?”
Dick was kind of curious about the paparazzi she mentioned. He snuck carefully over to one of the massive windows, and sure enough, hundreds of tiny people were skittering like ants around on the sidewalks outside the steps of the Tower.
Mackenzie sighed a really long and really loud sigh, and said, “Lucky for you, I’m damn good at my job. The Gazette was already making some… allegations , but I had Harry smack them with a slander case and they took it down in five minutes—”
“It’s libel.”
“Huh?”
Bruce raised an eyebrow. “It’s only slander if it’s spoken. If it’s written, it’s libel.”
She snorted and looked at her fingernails. “Well guess they’re as dumb as me—plus their hit count’s been low lately, I doubt it even got screenshotted.” She put her hand down, sighed again really dramatically, and her eyes were so angry Dick imagined they were gonna burn right through Bruce’s head, like Cyclops from his comics.
“You know what the worst thing is?”
Bruce grunted, leaning back in his chair.
“The worst thing—” she pinched her nose, like Tati used to do when Dick and Mami used to get too excited about something, “—is that the Internet fucking loves it.”
Bruce blinks a couple times, like she suddenly spoke a different language. (Dick felt bad for assuming Bruce only spoke English but like…look at him.)
Mackenzie tapped at her phone a few times, and held it up in front of Bruce’s face. A weird robot-lady voice said “ Guys I think Bruce Wayne has a kid?” “Did you read the comments?” Mackenzie kept her phone in front of Bruce and scrolled, and scrolled, and scrolled, watching him the entire time.
Bruce raised an eyebrow. “They’re really…okay with it?”
“You’re the easiest client I’ve ever had—”
“I’m your only client Mackenzie,” Bruce snorted.
“That’s not true!”
“You were selling diet pills on Instagram before I hired you.”
Mackenzie nodded a couple times and winced, but picked up steam again. “You’re the easiest client I’ve ever had, and I still feel like I’m going to have an aneurysm about every three days. Why?”
“...What’re you asking?”
“I don’t even know anymore. It’s my job to predict trends and keep you likable. I don’t think I’ve done my job the entire time you’ve employed me. Did you read the comments?”
Bruce shrugged. “You smooth things over when I say stupid things on red carpets.”
“But even that’s somehow endearing. Add in that fucking angel-baby, and they’re rolling over at your feet, Bruce. Did you read the comments?”
Bruce leaned back really far in his chair and smiled at Dick and said, “Hear that, Dick? You’re gonna be famous.”
Dick could tell Bruce was making it into a joke because he was worried Dick would freak out. Dick crosses his arms. “I’m already famous, Bruce.”
Mackenzie whipped around to look at Dick and made a “meep” sound. “You’re…” Yeah, she definitely didn’t know Dick was here. “Wait. Dick ?” Her eyebrows furrowed, and she turned back to Bruce.
Bouncing up to her, Dick held out his hand and said, “Hi Mrs. Mackenzie! My name is Richard. I like your shirt. Can I touch it?”
She nodded, blinking way more than normal people do, and held out an arm for Dick to feel. (Sure enough, the material was really, really soft. Dick wanted to like Mackenzie. Anyone who wore shirts this nice couldn’t be secretly bad.)
“It’s nice to meet you, Richard.” She recovered really quickly, Dick was kind of impressed. She smiled in that fake way adults do and said “What’s he got you doing? Sorting files?”
Dick shrugged. Alfred had left a really long list on the counter this morning with doctors and helplines and some fancy government agency and said he was going hunting. Bruce had looked like he couldn’t tell if he was dreaming or not, and said “With…guns?” And when Alfred had said yes, Bruce had said, “You’ve never been hunting before.” And Alfred had said “Exactly, my boy. Time to see what all the fuss is about,” and he’d walked out the door in his fancy butler suit.
(That was the first time Dick had ever seen Alfred lie. He didn’t even know that was allowed .)
So Bruce had promised they’d go do something fun in the afternoon—Dick hoped it would be outside because he hadn’t seen the sky in days and it was starting to make him antsy—but first he had to go get yelled at.
Dick had been ready to punch some people. So honestly, this meeting was going much better than he’d expected.
“I’ll just…” Mackenzie turned to Bruce, blinked a few more times, and said, “What was I talking about?”
“You were being a little mean,” said Dick, because it was true, “but that’s okay, because Bruce was kind of mean to you when he didn’t tell you about me. He promises not to do it again. Right Bruce?”
Bruce nodded very seriously, even though Dick could tell his eyes were laughing.
“Well I…” Mackenzie stopped and shook herself. “Wait. No. You’re not getting out of this that easily. You’ve got to make this up to me, Wayne.”
Bruce sighed and gestured for her to go on.
Now Mackenzie’s eyes gleamed kind of wickedly. If she’d looked like that when she’d walked in, Dick definitely would’ve had to take her down. “You’re coming to the Drakes’ charity auction. Nope, nope!” She held up a hand when Bruce started to groan. “Those are my terms. Take’em or leave’em.”
Bruce put his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands. “...Fine.”
She squealed, tapped something on her keyboard lightning-fast, and slammed her laptop shut. “Pleasure doing business with you, Bruce.” Mackenzie stood, and held her hand out to Dick. (She didn’t even lean down like lots of grown-ups did! Dick decided this lady was weird and kind of crazy, but acceptable.) “And it was very nice to meet you, Richard.”
“You too, Mrs. Mackenzie.” Dick shook her hand, and tried not to poke himself on her razor-sharp nails.
Nodding to herself, Mackenzie flounced out of the room. Dick climbed up into the chair she’d been sitting in, and said brightly, “So! What’s a charity auction?”
Bruce groaned, and put on his sunglasses.