Work Text:
“Welcome to LexCorp.”
Timothy Drake-Wayne watches Danny immediately step out of the freshly opened door, causing the doorman to pale slightly and step back when he realizes how far up he has to look. Tim had gotten no end of grief from his siblings for the way he’d hired Danny damn near sight-unseen (by Bat standards, at least) three months ago, but most of them have long since eaten those words. Danny is far sharper than anyone had given him credit for, Tim included, and within a week had essentially taking to trailing after Tim to and from meetings of all kinds.
The board’s mildly terrified of him based on nothing more than his stature, which made Tim laugh right up until he got to witness the shift in Danny’s stance firsthand. Considering the larger man had always been behind him or outside his office when he’d needed to utilize it, Tim had never seen the way he shifts without moving until he’d been standing at Danny’s desk when someone had come through despite being denied an audience. Danny had stood easily, moving forward to greet the man only to be brushed off as though nothing but idiotic muscle and told to ‘get out of the way and let the important people talk’. A tightening of the shoulders, a firming of that strong jawline and Danny went from easy going small town to blatant threat in the time most people take to blink.
At this point, Tim finds it far stranger to go places without Danny at his back. The man watches everything, and misses nothing. As a Bat, Tim is both extremely impressed and more than a little worried. Nothing major has happened in his nightlife routine since he’s hired Danny, but the first time Tim tries to go to work with busted ribs, he’s kind of afraid Danny’s going to clock it. He doesn’t know what to do about it yet, but he should probably sit down with Bruce sooner rather than later about how to handle that particular issue.
The faint click of approaching heels pulls his attention, and he can see Lex Luthor’s own personal assistant, Mercy Graves approaching in the faint gap between Danny and the car door. Tim still doesn’t move, well used to Danny’s protective tendencies when in less than friendly places, and Lex Luthor is a name everyone knows for enough reasons that the wariness is welcomed.
“You must be Mr. Fenton. Welcome, we’re thrilled to have you here. Mr. Luthor is waiting for you both when you’re ready to head up,” Graves says calmly. Tim’s a little impressed by her unbothered tone, though he also knows she’s never been known for asking. She bullies those Luthor is waiting on and often comes across as rude, at best. That she doesn’t this time says plenty all on its own about her internal reactions to Danny.
Tim manages to get his smirk under control as he steps from the car at last, Danny having stepped to the side so he’s not in the way but absolutely still in easy reach. “Thank you for having us, Ms. Graves. Mr. Luthor’s flexibility is most appreciated,” he’s saying to the woman, shaking her hand with his usual fearlessness.
Tim’s hands are empty, and he prefers to keep them that way these days. He’s got a tablet, of course, but so does Danny, and the man takes notes well enough that Tim has never once had to add to them when he accessed them back at the office. There’s both a paper pad and the Wayne Enterprises tablet in the man’s ever present portfolio, loaded down with enough apps to make even Tim drool. He’d been surprised to discover that several of the apps Danny uses most regularly, and that Tim approves of enough to have loaded onto his own, were made right there in house by Danny’s long-time friend and Cyber Security specialist, Tucker Foley. He’s made several notes to review Mr. Foley’s employment at some point, because the man’s a genius when it comes to coding and development and shouldn’t be under-utilized.
He doesn’t say anything as Graves gives them one last appraising look before leading the way into the LexCorp building. Tim follows her, Danny falling into step at his shoulder. They don’t speak as they get into the elevator, heading up the abysmally tall building to Luthor’s office on the top floor. It opens to the kind of unnecessary opulence that New Money always has, and he has to bite back the sneer. Modernized office buildings have no need to be done up like a pale mimicry of Wayne Manor.
The open office door gives Tim an unobstructed view of Lex Luthor himself behind a large oak desk. The man glances up, something nauseatingly calculating on his face for the split second it takes him to register who is approaching. “Mr. Drake-Wayne! Welcome, how good it is to see you! I regret missing the last gala, but I had fallen ill, I’m afraid. How does your father fair?” he says as he comes to greet them.
Tim takes his hand, noting Graves stopping at the door and dipping her head to Luthor before making herself scarce. He has absolutely no intention of sending Danny away, however. “He is well, thank you for asking. I’ll let him know about the illness, though, I’m sure he’ll send something along. You’re fully recovered, I take it?” he asks. He knows what really happened, of course, but Luthor doesn’t know that he knows, and so dumb he must be.
True enough, Luthor smiles and waves him off as he leads the way back across the office. “Oh, yes, completely,” he assures. “Don’t worry, I didn’t come back to work contagious at all. Just took a brief dip for the worse before I managed to shake it. Right as rain now, never fear.” Tim settles in the guest chair, Danny ‘accidentally’ knocking the other one further back from the desk and turned to leave both Luthor and the door in his peripheries. He sits without comment, but Tim is past being bothered by it. Danny had admitted once that he prefers it this way, testing who is stupid enough to underestimate him for his bulk so he knows who needs to be truly watched.
Luthor settles behind his unnecessarily large desk, glancing at Danny a few times as he pulls papers from a drawer. “I didn’t want to say too much over the phone, of course,” he begins, pausing as though Tim would send Danny out. Tim just nods, leaning forward to encourage Luthor to continue. “I have received a very interesting project from a smaller company wanting to talk mergers. I’m sure you’re at least peripherally aware of Dalv Co., correct?” He pauses, waiting for Tim’s nod.
Tim catches the briefest hesitation in Danny’s motions as he takes notes on the tablet. Luthor doesn’t notice, and honestly if Tim hadn’t been chasing Batman around since he was a kid he probably would have missed it too. Something to think about later. “Yes, I do. They’ve made a couple attempts to meet with Wayne Enterprises, as well, but Dad has always heard odd rumors about that company and never actually met with them. It sounds like you have, then?” he asks, careful to keep his voice neutral. Dalv Co. is into weapons manufacturing, same as LexCorp, but they also tout green energy research. Bruce never found out exactly what that source was, and it bothered him enough that he’s concerned it violates someone’s rights somewhere.
Luthor nods, though the way his eyes grow sharper suggests he suspects what Tim thinks of meeting someone like that. “I was admittedly curious, hoping to get a glimpse of what they promise is so helpful but won’t actually speak of. It's all very intriguing. Unfortunately, nothing was revealed to me. No surprise really, but oh well. No, what caught my attention was his sudden interest in aerospace.” At this Luthor slides a sheaf of papers across the desk.
Tim takes them, skimming the contents curiously. Luthor doesn’t share information as a general rule, but that appears to be exactly what he’s doing. “This is one of few avenues where we don’t compete, I haven’t taken up that particular field and have no current plans to. If you and dear Bruce haven’t met with him, it would explain why he came to me, but for all he told me I cannot seem to parse what he wants with exploratory travel to Saturn.” Tim looks up, seeing Luthor sitting back.
He sets the papers down, seemingly off to an errant side but in truth putting them closer to Danny’s line of sight. He wants another set of eyes on them. “Forgive me, Mr. Luthor, and I mean no disrespect, but what, exactly, am I doing here? Someone wants to go to another planet, that’s not all that strange anymore. It’s no secret you’ve got the means to get places even if it’s not already in LexCorp works, so why clue me into this at all?” He can’t figure the man out on this. Any other day he might have just entertained the man’s need to show off and been done with it, but there’s something in the man’s face tickling at Tim’s Bat honed instincts.
Luthor leans forward, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. Tim catches the smirk on the man’s face, however. “You’re so much smarter than people give you credit for,” he says idly. “I chose to meet with you and not Bruce for a reason. Mercy caught something while I was meeting with him. I had signed off on the purchase of a facility and transfer of nearly three dozen scientists without any recollection of having done so.” He pauses here, and all kinds of alarm bells are ringing in Tim’s head.
Luthor takes a slow breath. “Mercy had brought tea in, caught the freshly signed page, and spilled the pot to void it. Mr. Masters had been quite upset, and I had him escorted out for saying some very unprofessional things to my assistant. I checked my cameras, of course, and I did absolutely sign it, but I have no memory of doing so. I won’t bother playing coy with you, I’m sure it will come as no surprise that I absolutely abhor being swindled or otherwise taken undue advantage of. Something is off, and I don’t have the means to figure out what Masters wants. I don’t know the industry. I’m not asking for anything, but he may come to you again and you absolutely should be aware, if only so I can have the personal satisfaction of making sure that man does not get what he wants now that he has vexed me.”
Tim ponders everything he’d been told briefly, before giving Luthor a nod. “I’ll ask around our Aerospace team, see if anyone’s picked up any rumors anywhere. I won’t promise to let you know if I hear things. But….if I find something directly related to whatever happened to you, I will make an effort to pass it on. It sounds like he's trying to bypass free will, and my family has lobbied hard against such things for years now. Thank you for taking the time. May I bother you for a copy of the proposal to take back? It won’t go any further than my personal office.” Danny’s still notating away, but so long as Tim doesn’t look at him no one else gives him the time of day and that usually means he’s free to catch reactions and things without anyone realizing he’s watching. Luthor appears no different.
Instead, the man waves at the stack he’d handed over earlier, and pulls an identical sheaf out of his drawer, flashing the front page briefly. “Oh, that is your copy, don’t worry. I wouldn’t bother saying anything and then try to hide them,” he says easily.
Danny glances up for the first time, straightening his back. Even seated, he’s tall, and pulls Luthor’s attention immediately. “May I?” he asks, gesturing to the sheaf in Luthor’s hands.
Tim watches, amused, as Luthor seems to very briefly consider saying no. His eyes flick to Danny’s shoulders before he deflates and hands them over. Danny wastes no time in skimming each sheet, the tablet pen skating silently across the screen. Tim can admit he doesn’t understand the shorthand Danny appears to have come up with that allows him to take copious notes without lifting the pen so there’s no repeated clacking against the screen. People forget he’s doing it, honestly, and it impressed the hell out of Tim when he realized.
He hands them silently back barely five minutes later, scooping up the set that had been previously handed to Tim and skimming that as well, the pen never actually stopping its motions. Luthor is giving him a much more appraising look now, but all Tim can feel is smug. Let the meddling bastard wonder what he missed, or what Wayne Enterprises gained. Barely a minute later, Danny’s pen stops moving and the copied pages are slid into the pocket behind the paper pad.
Tim sits back at this point, satisfied that he’s gotten what he needs out of Luthor and no longer has a reason to draw this meeting out. “Will that be all? I’m afraid I hadn’t gotten in early enough to stop for lunch before our meeting,” he says easily, reverting back to not actively mentioning Danny. There’s no real reason to keep at it anymore, but anything that could potentially confuse Luthor, or even make him actively underestimate Tim in any spare capacity, is well worth it.
Luthor’s whole face shifts gears, and Tim wants to laugh at the blatant absurdity of it. “Oh, goodness, don’t let me keep you then,” he says, clearly happy with the way things turned out. Even if things are not obviously in his favor, they’re definitely not working against him at this point. “Do call up if you need restaurant recommendations, as well, Mercy will put you straight through to me. Thank you again for coming all this way, and I do hope it was worth the trip.” He’s clearly fishing for compliments now, and Tim wants to roll his eyes.
Danny stands as Luthor is shaking Tim’s hand, and doesn’t offer his own. He stays silent, as he always does, following the two of them to the door and slotting himself at Tim’s shoulder the moment they’ve cleared the doorway. Tim wonders why until the elevator doors open and he realizes that Danny is standing between him and Mercy Graves, who could, theoretically, have had something harmful in her hands.
He can’t get lost in his head yet. “It has proved a potentially fruitful trip, certainly,” Tim assures him. “I appreciate you taking the time to bring this to our attention, especially if this isn’t a first or a last. Acquisitions should be done more humanely, after all.” He gives the man a last bright smile before turning and stepping onto the elevator. They ride down in the same silence they’d arrived in, the same car waiting for them. The driver is Wayne Enterprises cleared, the car armored at Danny’s insistence for security in travel that he’d pitched, not in front of the board, but on a call to Dick after hours. Tim had given him a solid hour of silent treatment for it, but Danny never did anything but smirk every time he refilled Tim’s coffee for its duration.
Only when they’re securely back in the car, doors closed and on the move, does Tim slouch against the seat with a sigh. “He’s always exhausting to deal with,” he mutters.
Danny hums thoughtfully, but he’s quieter than usual and Tim sits up to look at him. “I….well there’s no point in trying to draw it out,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I know Vlad, unfortunately.” Tim might have been more concerned if Danny hadn’t wrinkled his face in very clear, very strong distaste. “I'm surprised it didn’t get caught in the background check, honestly. He went to college with my parents. Dad always claimed he was my godfather, and Vlad loves reminding me of it anytime I have to look at him, but I have no idea if it’s on any legal documents anywhere.” He sounds off, and Tim is struck by how much he wants to know why.
He can’t push like that though. Not yet. They’re not quite that close, still mostly professional acquaintances instead of friends friends. “Wonder what he wants with Saturn,” Tim mutters instead, only to be thrown yet again by the way Danny stiffens certain muscles in what is clearly a practiced motion to hide a flinch.
“He’s actually after one of Saturn’s moons,” Danny mumbles. “How much do you know about my parents?” he asks suddenly.
Tim frowns at the non sequitur, but thinks back. “We didn’t dig too far, they’re scientists and inventors. There was a note in your file about Amity Park’s claim of ‘Most Haunted’ but never really anything to bother worrying over. Why?”
Danny gives him a sad grin. “We should probably get food in you for this conversation,” he says, still not telling Tim anything. It irks him a bit, he’ll admit it, but only because he’s got Bruce’s well established drive to know everything, and there’s now very obviously something he absolutely does not know.
They head back to the hotel, forgoing being in public. Tim just orders a bunch of stuff to be delivered to the hotel, and with the traffic they hit over a bank robbery shutting down several roads completely, it’s already waiting for them by the time they make it across the city. Tim’s nearly vibrating by the time they get back and he does a standard weep for bugs while Danny pulls the food out and spreads it across the coffee table.
Tim always likes sitting on the floor when he eats after busy days, and Danny seems to either enjoy it himself or not mind it enough to join him on long nights. He settles in, leaning back against the couch at the long end while Danny stretches his much longer legs out lengthwise under the table and leans against the armchair. They dig into their food easily, sitting in silence for several unusually tense minutes.
When Danny sighs, it sounds defeated enough to temper Tim’s rising ire. That’s never a good sound. “So, yeah, you know what my parents do now, but that wasn’t always the case,” he starts, staring at the table in a painfully uncharacteristic display of introversion. “When I was a kid, they started work on this massive thing in the basement that took all their time. My sister picked up a lot of the slack because they’d work for days straight, completely losing time. They called themselves ecto-scientists, and wanted to prove that ghosts exist. And….when I was 14…..they did.” He pauses again, but Tim already doesn’t like where this is going.
Danny drops his head backwards, staring up at the ceiling. “They built a portal to another dimension,” he says softly. “That’s where Amity Park gets the ‘Most Haunted’ claims. With a stable portal wide open, the ghosts started coming through. There was one that took up trying to corral the others and minimize damages, but it was a wild time for a while. My parents, convinced that these beings were all evil because the few they saw caused a bit of damage, took up ghost hunting. That’s about the same time Vlad came back around. There’d been some sort of accident back in college and he’d held a bit of a grudge, but he studied the ghosts same as my parents and came in to see what was really going on when things started happening. Ended up swindling his way to being Amity Park’s mayor for a few years, even.” Danny’s face makes his thoughts on that entire debacle clear without saying a word, but Tim just makes another mental note. It’s starting to sound like the Justice League missed something major.
When Danny doesn’t start talking again, Tim has a few minutes to ponder everything he’d been told thus far. It isn’t a lot, and he can see that there’s a potential for so many terrible individual instances, but he sets that aside for now. “What’s the significance of Saturn?” he finally asks quietly, as gently as he can.
Danny looks back down at him, and Tim has the sudden feeling that he’s being weighed in a way he’s not used to. “One of Saturn’s moons is made of a very unique substance,” is the reply, though there’s clear hesitance in his tone now, something he doesn’t want known. “It naturally destabilizes the substance ghosts are made of, is one of the only things the living possess that can truly harm them and worse. Vlad had a small rocket at one point, he was sourcing it and supplying my parents with it to power their weapons. Vlad lost the rocket, lost his access to that substance, and it sounds like he’s trying to get to it again.”
Tim frowns, bending one knee so he can curl an arm on it and rest his chin upon said arm. There’s holes in his story, obviously, and there was a brief moment when he talked about the corralling that Tim briefly thought wasn’t fully truthful, but Danny’s body language and tone are all still earnest even if he’s cautious now. “If you had to take a guess based on your understanding of Masters, what would this sudden drive for Saturn most likely mean?” he finally asks. It’s clear that Danny doesn’t like Masters, which Tim absolutely agrees with, and almost certainly hasn’t had any contact with the man, if the meeting Luthor had was a surprise.
Danny does flinch this time. It’s so uncharacteristic of the usually confident man that Tim very nearly apologizes for asking. “My parents don’t hunt anymore, and they’ve purged most of their weapons down to the schematics,” he says softly. “If he’s sourcing ectoranium there’s either a new player or he’s working for the GIW.” Tim blinks, the name unfamiliar.
Something on his face must make his question clear. “Yeah, you're definitely not gonna like this one,” Danny says, and Tim can actively feel his heart rate climbing in near panic. “The Ghost Investigation Ward is a Zero Clearance government agency whose entire purpose is to carry out the permissions granted to them by the Ectoplasm Containment and Termination Operations Acts, or ECTO Acts, to contain any and all beings that produce or metabolize ectoplasm for study and, as necessary, extermination.” He sounds like he’s reciting a charter, and Tim realizes with slowly dawning horror that he very well might be.
There’s several moments of tense silence as Danny waits for Tim to speak and Tim swims through the appalling violation of peoples’ rights that just got dropped on him. “That’s not fucking legal, there’s no way!” he finally bursts, growing angrier by the minute. “That’s a violation of the Meta Rights Acts and we worked way too damn hard to get those passed!” He’s itching to grab the other computer and start blasting everyone he can think of to get working on whatever nightmare this is.
He’s stopped by the self-depreciating wheeze from the man still slumped across from him. “They declare that ghosts, defined as those beings comprised of ectoplasm, are non-sentient and non-sapient and thus not subject to otherwise ‘human’ rights or laws,” he says. There’s something unbearably sad in Danny’s gaze, far beyond what he expects even with the news of this mistake. Tim realizes with startling clarity that this is probably far more personal to Danny than any of them could imagine if it originated inside his childhood home.
Tim can’t help but stare. “What did we miss?” he whispers to himself, horror and shame warring within him. This is major, there’s no way this should have gotten passed, never mind done without someone knowing about it.
Danny huffs, shaking his head. “GIW kept the town pretty much completely cut off. There’d have been nothing to see, they made damned sure of that. We made do the best we could, but those laws are technically still in effect. By their wording, most of Amity Park’s residents are at potential risk because we lived in basically a kind of radiation hot zone, so we can’t really afford to make waves.” Tim studies him carefully, but he’s not angry, not even really tense. He’s just……Tim would call it defeated if it were anyone less confident in their own skin, and that fact grates on him all on its own.
He sits forward, the last of his food forgotten. “I’m making phone calls the second we’re back in Gotham,” he swears, perhaps a touch too sincerely to be properly civilian. At Danny’s confused glance, Tim nearly swears. “Bruce has friends who have friends, I am going to get word along the chain to the Justice League. None of that should have happened and I am going to make damned sure everyone involved is ruined.” The fact that his vehemence over this confuses Danny makes Tim want to rip his hair out. Does the man truly not think anyone’s going to be in his corner?
The late lunch concludes after that. They’ve got about a three hour drive to get back to Gotham, give or take, and Tim wants to be home by dinner. Well, he wants to be home before patrol but he can’t very well say that to Danny, so dinner is the deadline. He gathers his things and waits by the door for Danny to do one last sweep of the suite. Tim had admittedly been against getting a hotel for a day trip, but it had come in handy to have someplace semi safe to sit and digest things after dealing with Luthor. He’s mentally shifting himself even now, already logging which systems he’s hacking first and admitting to himself that he probably won’t be leaving the Cave tonight.
The drive back is quiet until they’re about an hour outside of Gotham. Danny’s phone goes off, and he glances down at the screen with a grimace. Tim knows that feeling well, and just smirks. “Safer to deal with it now?” he asks, though his tone doesn’t really phrase it as a question.
Danny nods, mouthing ‘Sorry’ even as he answers the call with a refreshing “I’d tell you to go away but I know exactly how many bullets your favorite gun carries.” Tim wants to laugh, and might have if it hadn’t been for the raging of what he thinks is a woman’s voice. It isn’t on speaker, but he can tell that much with ease.
Danny rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat. “When you remember that breathing is necessary I’ll-” he’s clearly cut off again, and Tim does snicker into his hand this time. “Oh, eat me, I’m gonna see you next week anyway!” The guffaw is louder this time, and Danny gives him an exasperated look.
The tone of the voice has changed, however. “Yeah, Val, I’m still in the car with my boss, we haven’t even made it back to Gotham yet, you harpy,” he snipes, though the devious smirk on his face says plenty. Tim absolutely does not have issues with his heart rate and is not mentally swearing to keep Dick as far away from this man as he can even as he knows he’s rapidly becoming doomed.
Danny glances at him in vague concern, then rolls his eyes at whatever is said on the phone. “Geez, you make me sound like a deadbeat. I was in Metropolis for like four hours for work. I don’t get paid to show up at your place and tinker with your crush’s car, genius, fix it yourself. I happen to know you’re not actually stupid. What? Val. Val, if this chick is intimidated by your independence then what are you doing chasing her? Yes, I mean it……no……fine. I’ll stay out of it. Yes, I’m telling Sam, what kind of moron do you take me for? Can’t hear you, bye Val!” The call ends seconds later, and Tim just stares.
Danny sighs, closing his eyes and probably doing some calming mental counting. “Well I don’t have to wonder why you’re so good at dealing with Dick anymore,” Tim says before he’s thought better of it.
The laugh he gets from Danny is worth it. “Yeah, your brother isn’t bad. All of them at once is probably gonna be an adventure but what I’ve seen so far isn’t really any worse than my friends and sister get. We’ve all been pretty much siblings for years and it shows.” He glances down at his phone, shooting off a quick text.
Tim watches him, wondering if he’s texting the ‘Sam’ he threatened to inform earlier. “How scattered are they now?” he asks, wondering if he can learn a little more about his brick shithouse of an assistant.
Danny snorts, his smirk growing wry. “Val’s in Metropolis for college. Jazz is finishing up medical school at Sanford. Tucker actually works for you, and Sam moved to Gotham earlier this week. Her grandmother bought a row of townhomes and was updated and double insulating them. Tuck and I are actually moving into two of the units next week while you’re out of town on that family thing. Figured I’d take advantage of the time off,” he says easily, completely unbothered with sharing those details.
Tim chuckles. “Fair enough, you’ve definitely earned it. Why Bruce wants to take a family vacation all of a sudden is beyond me, but he’s done weirder,” he says with a shrug. Truthfully, most of the Bats have missions that all line up so their cover is dear Brucie deciding to take a random family vacation. Tim’s actually going to be in northern Africa with Young Justice, and he knows Dick’s taking the Titans to the middle east somewhere looking for Deathstroke. Damian and Cass are doing League of Shadows reconnaissance because there’s been some odd chatter about Ra’s, and B himself is going off-world. Tim is pretty sure Jason’s gonna disappear somewhere with the Outlaws, but he doesn’t ask those questions.
Danny’s just scoffing. “Dude, why do eccentrics do anything?” he asks, pulling Tim’s plot spiral up short. “My parents took us camping in Canada in the middle of February once because they heard a rumor about a glowing gopher in a forest somewhere. Complete lies, of course, it was a racoon with a flashlight, but it made for an eventful two weeks.” Tim can’t help his stare. Canada in February was enough to make him cringe. Danny just grinned at the face he was undoubtedly making.
The sounds of the road shift, and Tim glances out the window to see Bristol passing them by. He sits up more fully, brows furrowing. He’d expected to go back to the office, but when he whips around, Danny’s looking down at his phone, completely unbothered. “Danny,” he says slowly, drawing out the name in accusation.
Those bright blue eyes lift, taking one look at him and giving him a remarkably satisfied grin. “Your stuff’s in the trunk,” he says without any trace of remorse.
Tim gives him a scowl. “I still have work to do, you know,” he says instead of arguing outright.
Danny nods. “Oh, I know. And that was before the things that Luthor and I both burdened you with,” he says easily. “All the more reason to get you back into the care of people who won’t hesitate to staple you to the bed. You didn’t sleep last night, either.”
Tim mentally curses. He hadn’t meant to stay up all night in the office, but he’d caught wind of possible embezzlement out of the shipping branch of the company and needed to figure out what was going on before it impacted any of their shipping lines. It’s one of the oldest of the Wayne Enterprises branches and has been relied upon for nearly a century. Tim refuses to let it flounder under his leadership. “That’s dastardly,” he eventually mutters, dropping back into his seat as they pull up to the Manor gates.
Danny’s grin remains entirely unrepentant. “Well you didn’t hire me for nothing,” is all he says in return. Tim considers sticking his tongue out, but he’s supposed to be Danny’s boss and that would be embarrassingly childish. They pass the last couple minutes in silence, until the car stops in front of the Manor.
Tim looks up as Alfred opens the back door, the driver getting out to retrieve his things from the trunk. “Welcome home, Master Timothy,” the butler says amicably.
Danny’s still grinning, and Tim just grumbles begrudging hellos as he stomps into the Manor without looking back. He’ll apologize later. Maybe. He hears Alfred apologizing on his behalf, and Danny’s rumbling assurances that they’re unneeded, and the promise of Tim getting sleep for a change is well worth a little ire.
He’s met with Dick leaning against the staircase’s handrail, grinning like a loon. Danny undoubtedly texted him at some point considering no one’s surprised to see him home. “Have fun?” Dick asks gleefully.
Jason’s head pops around the door to the kitchen, where he’d undoubtedly been minding something for Alfred. “The hell’d Timbit do now?” he asks gruffly.
Tim scoffs, shoving Dick out of the way as he passes him to go change. “Danny swindled Timmy,” Dick says happily. “Brought him home instead of taking him back to the office so he’d sleep for a change.” Tim isn’t far enough down the upstairs hall to miss Jason’s guffaw. They all think it’s hysterical that Danny’s already figured out how to steer him. Tim gets to his room and slams the door, already mentally apologizing to Alfred.
He doesn’t want to listen to the teasing, but more than that, he doesn’t want to be heard. He’s doomed the moment they find out, and it’s only through sheer luck that they haven’t already caught on. He’s always been friendly enough with people who aren’t draining in their complacent stupidity, but true competence is hard to find and quite possibly Tim’s greatest weakness in prospective partners.
Tim mentally curses himself as he pulls a t-shirt over his head. He takes all of the questions and curiosities he’s cultivating about his assistant and shoves them back down into their box before mentally punting it off a cliff. He will not ruin a good thing because he couldn’t control his own errant thoughts. He already relies on Danny more than is probably wise considering his nightlife and the risk he takes of the rest of the family being found if Danny clocks him as a vigilante.
Tim gives himself one last moment to sigh in his eternal exasperation. There are times where being a part of a giant family of meddling, nosy, gossiping detective vigilantes is absolutely not a good thing. Tim’s hidden his internal struggles before, and he resigns himself to knowing he can do it again. It’s harder now, because he’s been taught over and over and over again that he can absolutely trust them with his weaknesses. They may laugh and cajole and taunt, but at the end of the day he knows every last one of them will come if he calls without hesitation. They’ll stand with him no matter what comes. And maybe he’ll even tell them. He’d just like the chance to figure out what there is to tell first, because he damned sure has absolutely no idea yet how to parse what he’s feeling when he stops moving too long.