#he’s trying to figure out how the Fenton’s knew Bruce Wayne as well

[starry-bi-sky]

Part six of "Clone Danny"

When the Waynes leave, Danny can finally relax. Even if he's once again hit with a lingering regret that worms itself into his core like a little parasite. The final night that they're there, Bruce Wayne is not downstairs waiting for him, much to Danny's faint, lingering disappointment. He kinda liked talking to him, even if he kept it brief. Probably for the best.

Damian was still there when he returned with a sprained ankle and more ectoplasm burns. Danny tries not to make his limp obvious when he enters, and his clothing smells faintly of sulfur and burnt fabric.

Damian tells him he stinks, and Danny tells him he ran into a ghost. "The Phantom took care of it." He says, gripping his mask in his pocket tightly and avoiding putting weight on his injured foot. His thermos is pressed next to it. His fingers are freezing.

"Ah yes, your vigilante." Damian replies, "The one with the bat." And Danny can see the outline of his eyes narrowing at him.

"Can we really call him a vigilante when the people he's fighting are ghosts?" Danny asks, avoiding the 'bat' comment and leaning against the back of the kitchen chair.

"Did you actually lose your bat, Fenton?" Damian's fingers tap against his arm, refusing to move on. "Despite your ridiculous behavior and attempts to avoid my father and I, I find it hard to believe that the son of two ghost hunters would be as foolish as to forget his only weapon of defense against ghosts."

Ah, so he noticed that. Danny was half tempted to mutter that the bat wasn't his only weapon of defense. He still had his beloved jawbreakers. He's quiet, wondering how to respond to implication that he might be Phantom -- he can't believe Damian picked that up in only a few short days when nobody has caught on in little over a year -- before shrugging.

"I may have given it to the Phantom instead." He says, propping his arm up to put his chin in his hand, trying to look innocent while his heart skipped an anxious beat.

It's probably not the answer Damian wants, but when his word is the only proof he has, Danny doesn't think he should be too worried about it. Even if it meant that a second person outside his friend and enemy circle knew his identity.

He excuses himself shortly after, leaning heavily against the railing to try and hop up the stairs.

(Much to his surprise, Damian follows and lets Danny put his weight on him. He complains that its because Danny will wake his father if he allows him to bumble up the stairs on one foot.)

(Danny ruffles his hair again when they reach the top, and limps towards his bedroom.)

===

Its three months and a handful of new injuries before Danny thinks about the Waynes again. A new ghost appeared in town who called itself Riftgate and he was capable of creating teleport portals to anywhere in the world.

He was a fucking pain in the ass to fight, costing Danny three hours of his night where he could have been sleeping and nearly his hand. Danny gets dragged through the other side before finally shoving Rift inside the thermos.

But he also ends up nearly 900 miles away in fucking Gotham of all places on the top of an empty roof. Great, juuuust great. Danny is tired, he is grumpy, and he is in a city so laden with ectoplasm that he can all but taste it on his tongue. Or maybe that was just the air quality.

He can't even see the stars here, and his mood worsens.

Well, he's too fucking tired to bother handling this right now. There's no way Sam or Tucker are able to help him considering their distance, and right now Danny just wants to sleep. Maybe after that he can figure out a way home.

So he does, sort of. He walks over to the door and doesn't bother trying to open it, even if there was a 50/50 chance of it being unlocked. (This was Gotham after all.) Instead he sweeps the ground with his foot and curls up at door and he's out like a light.

....Only to be woken up by hissed muttering close to his ear and a gloved hand pressing into the pulse of his neck. "No I don't know if they're dead but I don't think so." Says the unfamiliar voice, and Danny opens a bleary eye.

"He's breathing, but his pulse is too slow to be normal. I think he needs help." The voice, a boy, -- no, Red Robin, great -- continues, and Danny looks beside him to see who he was talking to. No one. "He's probably part of some kind of gang, his mask kind of reminds me of Hood's."

Danny just barely remembers that he's still dressed up as Phantom before he tiredly signs, "I'm not part of a fucking gang." and pushes the boy's hand off.

=====

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

will make a masterpost soon

Taglist: @the-navistar-carol @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour @luckybyrdrobyn @deeplyconfusedbear @epilepticnerd @beautifulmomenttodrawblank

[halfagone]

So here’s a unique twist of a common prompt. Danny is the son of Bruce Wayne, whoever his mother is is up to you. However, Danny wants nothing to do with Bruce or his family for whatever reason, whether it’s because Damian treated him badly as a child or maybe he just doesn’t like how Bruce operates. Either way, they meet and the meeting ends badly. What do you think?

There are actually a lot of reasons why Danny might not want to stay with Bruce or stay away from Bruce. There is, of course, the usual "Danny has billionaire trauma" route that works for some arguments (although not all (but I'll leave that ramble for another time)). You could always go with Danny and Damian didn't get along (if we're doing a Demon Siblings AU). But I think the route that goes best is just that... Danny has a lot of Trauma™ and he's not ready to join another family.

Unfortunately those kinds of AUs would probably be the sadder ones because that can mean that he has problems and/or is cut off from Jazz too. Because as much as I love Jazz, she was never the bastion of perfection and older sisterhood that we sometimes like to paint her as. She tried, just like her parents did, and sometimes she failed. ㄟ( ▔, ▔ )ㄏ

In those AUs Danny is probably trying to live on his own. Maybe he's emancipated, maybe he's turned 18 already (I do have a fic idea where Danny moves out of the house after turning 18 despite not graduating yet, which is a thing you can do. Plenty of kids' birthdays pass before June graduation in the U.S., after all.) He's just started to stand on his own two feet and probably move past the neglect, both physical and emotional, that came with living with the Fentons.

Enter Bruce. Bruce, who has abandonment issues and is one paranoid motherclucker (and yes, that was intentional), who has just found out he has an unknown son from either a past relationship or one-night stand. Of course he's going to want to know more about Danny and catch up on all the time he lost with Danny. And the thing about Bruce is that sometimes he acts like a bad father purely because he doesn't know how to communicate his feelings and does all these things that come off as insensitive and/or overbearing.

Sometimes Danny might be able to make it work. But depending on the downturn his life might have taken... sometimes he can't. And for a Danny that might have just gotten that hard-earned independence... it likely won't be pretty.

---

Danny doesn't know what to make of Bruce Wayne. The man seems nice... enough. He's a bit too excitable, tries a little too hard. It's clear as day that he's trying, much more than Danny's adoptive parents could ever bother to sometimes, but it's... Danny would appreciate it more if Bruce just gave up.

He's happy to see that Bruce didn't willingly give Danny up. No word yet on Danny's bio mom, but at least he's got that going for him. He could do without Bruce's meaningful attempts to introduce him to the rest of the family or find out more about him.

Danny absentmindedly tugs at his collar. He really wishes he'd just turned Sam down when he had the chance. Tucker had balked when she extended the invitation out to him. Usually Danny would be her first choice, since he had some semblance of High Society Table Manners™ which usually Sam wouldn't give a shit about, but well, Tucker had gone once, got embarrassed to hell and back, and pretty much sworn off against it ever since.

He'd only moved out from Fenton Works three weeks ago. Danny could understand why she didn't want to ask him while he got settled in.

But well, she was his friend. And with the risk of her parents trying to openly marry her off to some rich guy (as opposed to subtly trying to marry her off, like they were doing now), Danny had taken one for the team and agreed.

If he knew this was going to happen, he would have just stayed home and figured out how to cook scrambled fucking eggs.

"I'm not very comfortable with this conversation right now, Mr. Wayne," Danny said plainly to the man. They were off in a side room at this point, tucked away from the rest of the crowd that would usually gawk at them otherwise. Already he'd turned heads when people recognized him as familiar.

To be honest though, even if they hadn't gone to a more secluded room, Danny still would have told it to the man straight.

"Oh, is it because your friend isn't here? I told you you're more than welcome to-" Bruce started again but Danny cut him off with a sigh.

"That's not the problem here, Mr. Wayne," Danny deadpanned. "I don't know why you're expecting me to be on board so quickly but I- I just turned eighteen. I have an apartment, I have a job. I know I'm still a kid in your eyes but I haven't been your kid in- ever. No matter what any paternity test ends up saying, which I still haven't agreed to by the way-"

"You're not even willing to try?" Bruce asked in return, like he'd been struck across the face.

It seemed genuine enough, like he was sincerely hurt by Danny's standoffish attitude. And Danny would feel guilty if he weren't so tired right now. He'd been tired for the past four years and he didn't need this on top of it all as some twisted cherry on top of the shitty whipped cream that was his life.

"No, I'm not," Danny told the man, straightforward. People had said no to Bruce before, right? Surely, someone had.

He began to doubt when Bruce just stared at him, dumbfounded. Danny didn't let the silence linger because he didn't linger, just moved on and left the side room. He could feel Bruce's eyes on him as he went, and then some of the other Waynes' eyes on him when he came into view. He ignored all of them and tried to find Sam.

Maybe her parents would even be willing to let him go back to the hotel room, after the huge 'scene' he'd just caused.

[halfdeadfullgay]

404 - Title Not Found (part/chapter 3)

Part 1 - Tumblr Part 2 - Tumblr

Ao3

Summary: Jason was expecting the gala to be boring like always but is pleasantly surprised when it isn’t.

Danny meant it as a joke but Fenton luck always strikes. At least he gets an excuse to talk to the cute guy he gave quarters to.

AN: As always this is crack, this is a whole crack fic; and I play fast and loose with DC&DP cannon. Ignore any out of character writing(mainly Vlad and Bruce).

Kinda/slow Vlad redemption, kinda like a shitty uncle that you get along with sometimes.

Danny and Jason don’t know each other’s names for a bit so they refer to each other as:

Danny - Quarter Guy

Jason - Laundry Guy

Enjoy the crack! :)

Jason immediately knew that the other wasn’t from Gotham. No one just offered anything without an immediate confirmation that they would get something in return. At least that’s how it was in Crime Alley. He and the other held small talk while they were doing their laundry.

“You just offer quarters to people?” He said sarcastically only to have an actual answer in return. “Only the cute people.” The other said with a somewhat joking tone.

“Uh huh. What’s ya name? I didn’t catch it.” Jason wouldn’t directly admit but this guy had peaked his interest even more.

“Well, I didn’t throw.” The guy answered with a smile that felt sarcastic with just a bit of wanting chaos.

The topic changed to other things. He learned that quarter guy had moved to Crime Alley awhile back, he didn’t give a clear reason why; “Just thought it’d be a good change of pace.”

He also learned that Quarter Guy was going to some kind of event with his godfather; saying that even though he agreed to go, he could still complain. And god did he complain but nothing sounded too bad. “He’s just a fruitloop, I wouldn’t doubt him trying to use me to get secrets from the other people.”

Jason didn’t share any too personal information; besides it just out of sceret identity and such but it would also feel weird to. Jason did complain about how he was more or less forced into agreeing to go to the Wayne gala, only not sharing that it was a gala or that it was a Wayne event.

“Maybe we end up at the same event.” Quater guy, who still didn’t tell Jason his name, joked. His laundry had been done before his own. Quarter guy left with a smile that only made him want to figure out why he felt familiarly even more. Jason was more curious about this guy than before but decided to hold off on figuring out more about it.

—

It was just meant as a joke. Danny really did mean as a joke but just his fucking luck(or honestly he was expecting CW to be the cause in some way), he was now looking at the guy he gave quarters to a day or two pior. He was standing next to the snack table, avoiding Vlad so he didn’t have to worry about talking to other rich people he didn’t trust. The snacks didn’t look good in any sense of the word, why did he expect rich people to know what good snacks look and taste like.

He was thinking about texting Sam to complain, knowing that she would say I told you so but that when he noticed the guy from his apartment building was there. It took a second to recgionze him since he seemed more put together and dressed nicer, but it was him. Danny wouldn’t have questioned it too much if the guy wasn’t standing next to Bruce Wayne but he was. Danny didn’t need to know any more rich people but life(or probably CW) had other plans.

He noticed that the guy hadn’t seemed to see him yet. Danny moved away from the snack table, going opposite from Wayne and the laundry guy; mainly focusing on staying hidden but a voice called him. “Danỉ͔͖̜͌ẹ̿͋̒̕l̙͖̑̾ͣ!” It wasn’t loud, at least it wasn’t to humans. It had just enough of a hint of ghost speak to have Danny turn to look. Of course when he had his back turned, Vlad had to go and speak to Bruce Wayne. “Come over, I’ve hardly seen you since we’ve arrived.”

Danny held back a sigh and eye roll as he went over to Vlad and Wayne; which also meant laundry guy. He had felt Wayne’s eyes on him as he went over, laundry guy hadn’t seemed to notice or frankly care enough to look. He looked at Bruce. He knew of “Brucie” Wayne and had wondered if it was just a persona like when Vlad used to pretend to be niceish to his dad. He side eyed laundry guy, who didn’t look at him at all.

“You didn’t tell me you had a so-“ Bruce started with a hint of curiosity. Danny was quick to cut him off. “He didn’t because I’m not.” That’s what finally got laundry guy’s attention, he looked at Danny for a second and Danny already knew that he recognized him. “Daniel, that was rude.” Vlad looked at him before going back to Bruce. “I apologize for him but he is right. He’s my godson.” Vlad said, leaving it to Danny to introduce himself.

“Yes, I do apologize for cutting you off like that.” Danny started. He used the tone he would use with some of the ghost nobles. It was a bit forced but relatively kind. He’d hate to admit and never would out loud but he learned it from Vlad. “It’s alright, I understand how words hold meaning.” He noticed how it sounded more real than “Brucie” usually did.

He just nodded before continuing, “Okay. I’ll introduce myself before Vlad tries to.” Danny made his tone sound just a bit joking. He felt laundry guy’s full attention on him. He smiled, a little fake and a little smug. “I’m Danny Fenton and as Vlad said, I am his godson.”

There was some “good to meet you”s exchanged. Danny picked up on the fact that Bruce nudged Laundry Guy to introduce himself.

—

Jason didn’t like Vlad Masters at all. He was creepy, all around weird and untrustworthy. He had only seen him a few times before, spoke to him barely unless with Bruce but something was off now. There was a strange feeling of paranoia around Vlad that he couldn’t place. Even with all his training from the Bat.

He had been staying relatively close to Bruce, not wanting to deal with questions or the other people which Bruce seemed to respect. He had noticed that Bruce had been trying to be better or very least trying to understand his perspective. It was something, it was better than nothing.

Jason had held back a groan as soon as he saw Vlad approach him and (mainly) Bruce. He tuned out most of everything, just looking at the other people around them. It was like every other time Bruce was stopped by another billionaire. Just stand there, vaguely pay attention and look at the crowd of other people. That’s how it was going until he heard Vlad call out to someone else.

“Danỉ͔͖̜͌ẹ̿͋̒̕l̙͖̑̾ͣ!“ He heard Vald call out to someone else. it sounded off, not by a lot but still. He didn’t show a reaction outside of paying more attention. He noticed Bruce didn’t show any slight reaction which was expected. Jason still didn’t care enough to fully look up at whoever Vlad had called over until Bruce had started talking and was immediately cut off.

Jason had recognized the voice right off the bat. He looked up and saw Quarter Guy or as he introduced himself, Danny. It was obvious that the other recognized him as well but spoke as if he didn’t. He thought of when he talked to him while doing laundry and how he joked about them going to the same event. He heard formalities go around when felt Bruce nudge him. A signal to introduce himself.

He faced Danny, taking note of how he acted like they hadn’t met and he decided to go along with it. “Jason. Nice meeting ya.” He said with a similar smile that Bruice Wayne was known for but each bat kid had their own distinct version of it. “Nice to meet you as well.” Danny said with his own smile, he noticed that it was a mix between genuine and fake.

Jason noticed how different the other acted compared to when they talked a few days prior. He took note of how he was not as talkative or sarcastic and just had a small sense of fakeness about him. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to have a more or less fake personas at galas but he found it interesting how the other did a complete 180.

“So Danny, this your first gala?” Jason asked. A bit genuinely curious and also since he knew Bruce would ask him at some point. Danny looked at Vlad for a split second before answering. It seemed like silent communication. “No and yes. I’ve been to a few before but this is the first one I’ve been to in Gotham.” He had kept the smile as he explained. “Vlad has dragged me to some all over. Although I mainly attend the few that are held in my hometown.”

Yeah, he was definitely lying about something. It was easy to guess especially when Danny looked at Vlad before he had answered. He didn’t outwardly question it or look at Bruce to see if he noticed it too, of course he had; world’s greatest detective or whatever.

“Well we’re glad that you decided to attend tonight.” Bruce spoke, or well Brucie did. Some of the others had personas similar to the Brucie one but Jason didn’t. He didn’t feel like he needed one especially after coming back. “How about Jason and you go off and do your own thing while I speak business with Vlad?”

Jason looked at Bruce for a second, they both knew something was sketchy with Vlad and instead of including him in getting more info on him, Bruce was pushing him off to Danny. Not that he was complaining but still. He looked at Danny for his response.

—

Danny looked at Vlad, a bit surprised that Vlad wasn’t one to suggest that although he would’ve been suggesting it as a way to get information against competition. Vlad just gave a nod to him, Danny held back a sign knowing that Vlad would still use it as an opportunity for that. “Sure, why not? Still getting used to the city and all.”

And with that, he was led away by Jason. He could already hear Vlad scheming. At least he would be the only ghost he’d have to deal with. Hopefully, he didn’t want to jinx himself. He just let Jason drag him away from Bruce and Vald, not really caring where they went.

They finally stopped in a more quiet corner of the gala room. It was less bright with less people which Danny was grateful for. He had attended more ghost galas than human ones. So the loudness that came with human ones was still newish to him.

“So, I guess we really did end up at the same event.” Jason said with a smug grin. Hopefully just making it known that he said it as a joke would make it seem as a crazy coincidence and not too weird.

Danny gave him a sheepish smile, “I swear I meant it as a joke.”

[skirter01]

DP x DC Pilot/Engineer Danny AU PT. 2

Link to Pt. 1 Here

Here *aggressively punts this into the phandom* just take it, just friggin take it. 

“Bruce just walked into the foyer.”

“I know.”

“He’s getting into the elevator.”

“Cool.”

“Is there a reason you’re ignoring me?”

For the first time in at least three hours, Tim looked up from his laptop. It may have only been to send a rightfully deserved glare at the hovering Lucius Fox who had, for part of the last hour, been obsessively stalking the security cameras, but, it was enough to curb his train of thought entirely from the balance sheet he was trying to make sense of.

“Is there a reason you’re distracting me?” He snarked, shutting the laptop with a little more force than necessary and swivelling around to face the offender.

Lucius smirked playfully, and gestured to Tim’s now shut screen. “I was worried you were going to get square eyes. God help us you accidentally prove childhood scare tactics right.”

“Very funny. Maybe you should consider a career change.” Tim glowered at his fellow CEO, and jerked his head at the camera footage displayed behind the man. “He’s coming in for an impromptu inspection of the aerospace division, if you must know.”

True to his word after their discussion yesterday, Bruce had in fact turned up at Wayne Enterprises to conduct the invasive inspection. Honestly? Tim had been dreading it all morning.

The man’s brows furrowed. “Didn’t I just inspect–"

“You did.” Tim finished for him, spinning slightly in his revolving chair.

Lucius buffered. “At 9:30?”

Tim rolled his eyes and stood from his desk. “He originally said 10.”

Lucius frowned as he watched Bruce’s intimidating figure pop out of the elevator on their floor. “I do hope you’ve forewarned Mr Fenton.”

Tim shrugged (albeit a little guilty), because how was he supposed to explain that that was the opposite of what Bruce intended? This was a passive aggressive interrogation disguised as a business venture. Lucius wouldn’t approve, especially if he knew it was for personal interests.

His fellow CEO squinted with distrust, but didn’t follow up. So, he either knew that something fishy was going on and didn’t care to find out what for his own wellbeing, or, Tim was way more convincing than he thought. He was more inclined to believe the former. “Please don’t scare off the only nice aerospace employee we have. I happen to quite like Mr Fenton.”

Of course, he liked Mr Fenton. Who didn’t honestly? “No promises.” Tim chuckled darkly as he made his way to the door. He had barely reached for the handle when it was swung open by a force other than his own.

“Morning–" Bruce stopped his tracks, obviously not prepared for Tim being right in front of him, but he recovered quickly. Tim delighted in being able to catch The Batman off guard for once. “Oh. Tim. Well, I suppose we’ll be off then.”

“Morning to you too.” He grumbled sarcastically, stepping around his adopted father and into the hallway. “C’mon – work to do.”

---

The moment Bruce stepped out of the elevator and onto the aerospace floor, chaos erupted. 

Engineers who were originally sipping on warm coffee and chatting calmly with their co-workers erupted into a flustered mess of ‘Mr Wayne!’ ‘Good morning Sir!’ ‘Sorry about the mess’ ‘We weren’t expecting you today’ as they scuttled around cleaning up wayward blue prints and feigning productive work habits.

Bruce glanced at the young CEO at his side, taking note of the sour expression starting to slowly creep over his son's face. Tim had always carried a special type of hatred for the aerospace division. A hatred unlike that for the driver that splashes you on the sidewalk, but more akin to that for the barista who forgets to add sugar to your coffee, it was a peculiar grudge that was formed long before Daniel Fenton stepped in the limelight. Bruce had his theories, but he was inclined to believe it was mostly due to the employee’s - engineers were notoriously difficult to deal with, let alone manage. Respect was earned, not given.

“Mr Wayne, Sir?” He was drawn from his thoughts by a young intern, clipboard in hand, standing before him, (although clearly reluctantly if his quivering hands were any indication, could he hold the clipboard any tighter?). “M-my name is Ivan, is there anything I can do for you today?”

Bruce softened at the intern's nervous stutter, and pulled on a gentle smile. Clearly someone had put him up to this. “Hello Ivan. Thank you for greeting us. There is indeed something you can do for me.” He extended a hand, fighting not to cringe at the sweaty one that shook it.

Even so, he watched as Ivan visibly relaxed at the calm greeting, tension loosening slightly from his shoulders, and his hands easing from the clipboard. “You name it, I’ll have it done.” The boy said somewhat breathily, relief oozing from his words, although there was still apprehension in his eyes.

“Excellent. I’m actually looking for your new manager, Mr Fenton? Is he around?”

“Oh! You mean Danny?” And just like that, Ivan warped into an almost different person. He visibly brightened at the mention of his supervisor, and a newfound swagger seeped through his professional façade, almost like he’d finally been able to grasp some confidence. Bruce pursed his lips, wondering at the casual use of Mr Fenton's first name, how long had he been employed now? “He’s not in right now - normally doesn’t start till 10am on Wednesday’s. But he won’t be long.” Ivan stated, an easy smile overtaking his face. 

Bruce caught Tim’s knowing smirk at the mention of Mr Fenton’s start time, and he landed a heavy-handed pat to his son's back, ever the impression of fatherly praise. “Oh, I see. Tim and myself were just looking to have a chat. Would you perhaps be able to show us to his office?” Tim jolted forward at the force of the disguised blow, his winded cough covered by a clever throat clear 

“Yes.” Tim tried to muffle his wheeze, straightening his tie distractedly. “We’ll be happy to wait for him to arrive.” Bruce pretended to ignore the glare he caught in his peripheral.

Ivan grinned, motioning outwards with the clipboard to the narrow walkway between desks and gigantic computer systems. “Of course, please follow me.” 

Bruce exchanged a brief glance with Tim, watching his son roll his eyes slyly, before waving his hand dramatically, in an ‘after you’ motion. Not feeling the need to lean into the teasing from his second youngest, Bruce took a long, meaningful stride past his son, offering a mocking wink as he did and following Ivan’s brisk pace. 

They walked through the majority of the first sector, to where Bruce assumed the higher ranked engineer’s typically made their sanctuary (sound proofed and private offices galore), only they stopped just before that. He was surprised to find their brief tour halting at a small unassuming desk, directly in the central hustle of the aerospace sector. It was a semicircle, standing workspace that was without a doubt the furthest thing from tidy. Its surface was littered with blueprints, loose paper and an array of colourful markers (most in shades of green), to the point where things were actually scattered on the floor, and the computer of its far side was unlocked to a cluttered, neon green desktop. 

Bruce watched as Tim’s entire face scrunched in obvious disgust, and couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony. (Although his son’s workspace and documents were typically organised, the boy's bedroom left something to be desired.) “See what I mean?” Tim grumbled under his breath. 

Bruce hummed. “I’ll make my judgments face to face.” It was the truth, after all, he was well aware of the mistakes that came from judging a book only from its cover. He turned to Ivan, ignoring Tim’s disapproving grunt, “This is Mr Fenton's…Office?” He questioned wryly, trying to pry information from the young intern before he was to meet the man himself.

Ivan blushed slightly, and a hand went to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah…He calls it an office, but I suppose it’s more of a workspace, I guess. He means well.” He assured, before checking his watch. “Mr Fenton should be here any moment, sorry about the wait, he’s normally not this…” Ivan trailed off, distracted by a slight commotion at the entryway and a grin spread over the intern's pale lips. “Ah, right on time.”

Through the commotion Bruce caught a tall, lanky figure weaving through a crowd of energised engineers. 

“Morning D!

“Fenton, where've you been?” 

“D-dog, fancy seeing you here!”

A chorus of fond greetings filled the room, and Bruce was actually unsettled by the amount of excitement the arrival of one Mr Fenton could cause. (It was starkly different from his own.) He could actually tangibly feel the shift in atmosphere from the morning blues to energised productivity.

Bruce’s first deduction when Daniel Fenton split from the crowd was that he was a lot taller in person. Bruce had never been self-conscious about his height, in fact, he was proud to be comfortably on the taller side at roughly 6’2, but as Daniel made his way over, he was disturbed to find the young man easily had a few inches on him. 

However, despite that, he didn't appear the threatening corporate type (not that Bruce had expected him too). His dark button up and black dress pants were too casual to be intimidating, and although his height certainly gave him presence, his lankier stature took away from any authority it would have garnered - the kid (because he was young enough to be one) was practically just long bones, sharp edges and lean muscle (if any). 

It was a wonder how he managed to get anyone to listen to him. Let alone the aerospace engineers. 

“Heya Danny.” Ivan shuffled forwards to greet the young supervisor as he made his way over to them. 

Fenton didn't miss a beat, and turned all his attention to the intern. “Sup Iv’e. Good to see you buddy.” He stuck out a hand for a fist bump, which the intern eagerly returned. “How’d that Uni test go yesterday?” 

Ivan shrugged as Daniel threw his satchel onto the cluttered desk, squishing paper as he did. “Good actually, thanks for helping me out with the practice questions.” 

And in just those few sentences, Bruce could tell exactly why Daniel Fenton had the utmost respect of the aerospace division. No wonder they all spoke so highly of him, his interpersonal skills were brilliant.

“That’s awesome!” Mr Fenton praised, and patted him on the shoulder fondly, before turning to his desk and shuffling his documents. “And who are our guests?” 

“Thanks” Ivan said sheepishly, before his eyes darted back to meet Bruces, and he seemed to remember the reason why he was standing by his supervisor's desk. “Oh! Right. Danny, this is Mr. Bruce Wayne, and you’ve already met Mr. Timothy Drake, they’ve been waiting to have a chat with you.” 

Daniel turned then, and Bruce was surprised to find a pair of dark aviators peering over at them, completely obscuring the bright blue eyes he was expecting to see. “Ah, Mr Wayne, it's a pleasure, I was wondering when I’d be seeing you.” 

Bruce cleared his throat, and stuck out a hand to shake. “Please, call me Bruce, and the pleasure is all mine, Mr Fenton. Introductions were long overdue.” 

“Well in that case, call me Danny. Mr Fenton makes me sound old as hell.” Daniel-Danny said, that iconic impish troublemaker smile he’d witnessed in his photo making its way onto his face, revealing two rows of strangely sharp, white teeth. Maybe too sharp, surely that wasn’t normal? “So, what can I do you two gentlemen for? Nice to see you by the way Tim.” 

A forced smile scraped across Tim’s face, and Bruce fought the urge to laugh as Danny moved to shake his son’s hand next. Tim looked like he’d sucked on a lemon. “Nice to see you as well. Bruce was looking to do an inspection on the aerospace division, would you mind showing him around?” 

Danny’s grin didn't waver. “An inspection. Well let’s hope we’re up to scratch.” 

Bruce chuckled at the manager's sly humour. “Let’s hope so. Although…” He pointed a finger towards Danny’s aviators. “I do have to question if sunglasses inside are appropriate for the workplace, Mr Fenton.”

“Oh these?” Danny’s grin widened, but he made no move to remove the shades, clearly unperturbed by Bruce’s warning tone. “I’ve got an eye thing.”

“Is that so?” 

“Mm. Apparently some people find them unsettling. I’ll be happy to forward you a doctor's note.” He stated, flicking the frames fondly. 

Bruce narrowed his eyes, but did not pry. He supposed Daniel was a pilot, and he could admit, the aviators did suit him. “No, that won’t be necessary.” He planted a friendly smile back on his face. “So, that tour?”

“Of course!” Danny said happily, and Bruce could have sworn he saw something flash behind those shades. “Let’s go!” 

Bruce turned to find Tim already looking at him, a sleek brow raised in question. “Believe me now?” 

Bruce didn't respond. He didn't need to. Because yes, there was something very strange about Daniel Fenton and it wasn’t just his good looks.

--

Wow, you made it down here, bonkers. In other words, this seemed to be a hit, so we’ll continue. Might turn it into a fic, we’ll see, I’ve got some other shenanigans up my sleeve.

Also I got no clue if those mentions worked or not, tags and I have a love hate relationship. So if you can see someone that ain’t tagged properly. Tag em. Thanks!

@starkcravingmad @always-be-a-stranger @kiwwles @terrasolstice @angelheartgamer @potatoeofwisdom @ectoplasm024 @that-dumbass-on-a-horse @obsessedwithstarwars @nervousperfectionandroid @mimilikey @the-archer-goddess @terzatheunderscorerima @neutralghostchild @ae-vixrose @markus209 @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @mayoota-blog1 @cottonscrambles @bumblebeug @kyrianclawraith @that-blue-thing-in-the-bathroom @mysticalcomputerdetective

[channajen]

Chapter 7: “Batman, Meet Team Phantom” is up!

CHAPTER 7 OF “BATMAN, MEET TEAM PHANTOM” IS LIVE HERE!

Story link: HERE; Part 5 of “Ghosts in Gotham” Series; Link to first story HERE

Chapter 7 Summary:  Sam and Tucker are spending their first night in Gotham. It's been a really long day for the both of them. Tucker gets a *really* unexpected phone call. That leads to him meeting some very interesting people--virtually, anyway. Sam is skeptical, and leaves Tucker to it. Both of them wonder just how connected IS Jason to the Batclan, anyway??

Teaser: Tucker was amazed that Batman himself had taken an interest in this case. He didn’t know how Jason was connected to the man. Jason just said that his dad was good friends with him, but Tucker suspected that something else was going on. He had been asked to give access to Team Phantom’s most secure server to both the Justice League’s Watchtower AND the Dark Web’s most infamous operator, Oracle. Until he was asked for the information, he wasn’t sure if they really existed. Finding out that the god(ess?) of the Internet was real, and apparently working with Batman and the Justice League was a complete bombshell. It rocked Tucker’s world. When it finally hit him that he might actually get to work with them, he started hyperventilating, and Sam had to walk him through breathing exercises to calm him down.

Sam looked chill on the outside, but inside, she was a mess. She didn’t cry—ever, but what she saw in that basement had kept her fighting the tears all day. How people could be so cruel to their own children was beyond her. She remembered the satisfying crunch Jack Fenton’s face made when she kicked it with her steel-toed boot. Her only regret was that if things didn’t turn out well, she might never see her Bubbe again. She had said her good-byes and cut her ties, though, and saving Danny’s life was worth whatever it ended up costing them.

Speaking of cost… Sam looked around the lavish apartment. It had 5 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms, and the refrigerator was well-stocked when they arrived—with both fully-prepared meals for reheating, and ingredients to cook for themselves if they wanted to. Sam was touched that everything was labeled either vegetarian or not. Someone had stocked this place up—specifically with them in mind. She just wondered who. She knew it had to be someone rich and connected to the Justice League in some way. Rumor had it that Bruce Wayne was funding Batman, and he did live in Gotham, so he was one possibility. There were others that she thought of, but she had a feeling that Bruce Wayne was involved. She thought about having Tucker try and dig up information on who owned the apartment, but she was afraid someone might backtrack his computer and figure out where they were. They had been provided with the latest WayneTech laptops, tablets, and phones when they arrived. Maybe Tuck could use the one they had given to him—if it wasn’t bugged…

Tucker was in the kitchen when his phone rang, and the two teens jumped. Who even had these numbers??? He hesitantly answered, “Hello?”

An androgynist voice, obviously filtered through a modulator, responded through the line. “Mr. Foley, this is Oracle. I wanted to personally thank you for the information you sent. It was well-organized and nicely encrypted. I would like to take some time when this mess is over to discuss technology with you. I think we would both enjoy the conversation.”

***Read the whole chapter HERE***

[katedrakeohd]

The softer side of Neville..

I had fun writing this for @sirbeepsalot and the #SofterSideofNeville prompt. I hope everyone likes it.

Word count: 4164..( it kind of got away from me. LOL)

Writer tags: @dcbbw @choicesarehard @jovialyouthmusic @ritachacha @tornbetween2loves @bobasheebaby

Warnings: None really, I guess you could rate it PG.

_______

_Masquerade_

A month after King Liam's coronation the Capital city was abuzz with preparations for the annual Harvest Festival. It was the last social event of the year where the Palace and grounds were open to the public. All over the city Cordonia's citizens were gathering their family's best recipes in hopes of winning the pie baking contest.

A week before the Masquerade Ball, costume designers and local stores were busy with shoppers looking for something special to wear. It was a black tie event and by invitation only. Rumors among gossip magazines, entertainment blogs, and social media outlets were flying with who among Hollywood's elite might be there.

In a menswear shop on Fenton Street, the Capital's posh upscale shopping district, Lord Neville Vancoeur and his friend Earl Rashad Domvalier were browsing through designer suits.

"Neville if you show up in another boring Armani suit it's hardly going to be a costume." Rashad scoffed.

Neville rolls his eyes, "No kidding. So this time I'm looking for some inspiration. If I'm going to be rubbing elbows with commoners, nobility and celebrities alike I want to look good. For the first time in decades, Cordonia has a young King who everyone wants to get to know."

Rashad was looking forward to seeing the ladies at the Ball. His father was anxious for him to find a wife and settle down, but Rashad wasn't quite ready for commitment just yet. He was more interested in finding a hot Hollywood girlfriend. He wasn't sure about Neville's romantic ambitions though, he'd never seen his friend successfully pick up a date at any one of these events.

"So Neville, do you have a theme in mind for your costume? A rakish, well dressed comic book supervillain perhaps? Or  something more from a classic movie character angle." Rashad wondered out loud as he looked through a rack of pinstriped dark suits.

Neville pauses from where he was looking at dress shirts, "Hey, that's not a bad idea."

"Which one?" Rashad raises an eyebrow.

"Either one. Hmmm, do you think I could pull off that dark grey pinstriped suit and that fedora as a gangster or something?"

Rashad narrows his eyes, trying to picture Neville as Al Capone or Elliot Ness from the Untouchables.

"Eh, I don't know. But that dark suit with a top hat would make you an excellent Penquin from DCs Batman."

Neville tilts his head, trying to picture it. "You know what? I like it. I wonder if they have a suit jacket with tails?"

As Neville walks over to the shop employee to ask, Rashad chuckles to himself. He could totally see Neville pulling off the dapper yet cunning Oswald Cobblepot.

Rashad frowned in thought. What could he wear to the Ball? He wanted to look handsome, not foolish. Checking out his reflection in the mirror he considered his dark features, piercing eyes and slim but athletic build. What heroic movie character could he fit into?  Spotting a black pair of suit pants and an embroidered white shirt on a rack behind him in the mirror, his eyes go wide when his mind clicks onto an idea.

Zorro. Oh my goodness why hadn't he thought about that before?

Spinning back around, his eyes searched the shop for clothing pieces he could put together.

At the Palace boutique, Hana, Madeleine, Riley and Olivia were looking through dresses for costume inspiration. Riley would be on Drake's arm and she had convinced him to wear a tuxedo. He had balked at the idea of dressing fancy but she had insisted. Now she was wondering what to wear to look nice next to him.

"No, no, no." Olivia protested. "None of these dresses are the right style." She had planned to wear a sexy vampire costume with a mask. She'd already had the mask custom made to fit her face, and none of the Palace dress offerings were good enough to go with it.

Hana and Riley both roll their eyes at Olivia's whining. Riley speaks up, "You must have something suitable at home then. I know how much you covet the color red."

Madeleine turns away from the rack she's looking at and folds her arms, sneering at Olivia. "Oh please, she'd look much better in something black to match her cold dead heart."

Olivia scowls at her, "You're one to talk. Why Liam chose you as Queen is beyond me. Oh look Maddy, here's an icy blue dress that would suit your cold heart too."

Hana smirks, "Oh would you two just let it go already."

Riley picks up on the 'Elsa' reference and bursts out laughing. Olivia and Madeleine both scowl at her, not getting the joke.

Still giggling, Riley tries to catch her breath. "So Hana, do you have a date for the Ball?"

Hana bites her lip, "Not really. But I'm assuming Maxwell will be without a date either, so he'll make do as a companion."

Olivia scoffs, "You two are both so foolishly cheerful most of the time you make a good pair. I'm assuming Riley is going to stumble around the dance floor with the oafish Mr. Walker."

Riley frowns, "Hey, we've been taking dance lessons. I'm sure Drake and I will manage just fine."

Olivia turns to leave the boutique, "Whatever you say. I have some calls to make to my favorite dress designer. Good luck Ladies."

The night of the Ball, Drake goes to Riley's room to pick her up. Stopping outside her door he tugs at the white collar of his dress shirt, trying to loosen the strangled sensation his black bowtie was causing around his neck. Sucking in a deep breath to calm his nerves, he lets it out slowly then knocks.

Standing at her mirror, Riley fixes her earring. She was wearing a long black satin gown that skimmed her curvy figure in places, and hugged it in others. It was cut low in the back, and dropped into a deep vee in the front. She hoped the ballroom wasn't going to be too chilly. On her face she wore a black lace cat mask. Her hair was in a partial updo, secured with a black sparkly clip, the rest of her hair falling in chestnut curls  against her shoulders. Her makeup was simple, so as not to be ruined by the mask, and she wore a bright red lipstick that matched her fingernails.

"Come in," she says when she hears Drake's knock.

Drake swings the door open, "I hope you're rea-.." Then his mind goes blank. Wow, she looked incredible. Turning around, Riley smirks at his dumbstruck expression. Walking over to him she straightens his tie.

"What's the matter Drake, cat got your tongue?"

The cat's got my everything tied up in knots at the moment, he thought.

Having her so close to him in that ridiculously sexy dress, those red lips of hers turned up in a sly grin, he felt warm all over. He needed to get control of himself, quickly, if he was going to lead her into the ballroom and not embarrass them both. Damnit she was still touching him, smoothing the lapels of his jacket...

Drake steps back, brushing her hands aside. "Ahem, enough fussing over me Brooks. I already feel like I'm dressed like one of the waiters."

Riley scoops up her clutch from the desk and then takes his arm.

"Nonsense Drake, you look very handsome, even if a tux isn't really much of a costume. Who are supposed to be?"

Drake leads her out of the door then closes it. He hadn't a clue what to say at first, but then glancing at the cat mask she was wearing he had a spark of inspiration.

"I'm Bruce Wayne."

A red carpet lolled out of the doors of the Palace like the long tongue of a snake. Flashbulbs of press photographers bombarded each limousine and sleek luxury car as it pulled up to eject its passengers.

Flocks of Nobles from all over Cordonia and Europe, Hollywood movie stars, and local dignitaries were arriving. Some wore elaborate costumes, some wore formal wear and masks, and some were just dressed in formal wear.

Neville and Rashad shared the backseat of a limousine. Waiting in a long line of other sleak automobiles, they were both getting impatient at the delay.

Rashad shifted in his seat again, adjusting his mask, every time he moved the sword he wore at his side rattled. Neville rolled his eyes at him and sighed.

"Seriously Rashad, the Palace security isn't going to let you into the Ball wearing that thing. Even if it is part of your costume."

Rashad looked over at Neville. With his top hat, monocle, and cane he looked like the dapper gentleman. He felt kind of foolish in his black mask, bolero hat and tall boots. But he had no doubts about who was going to catch more attention from the women. He wish he could have arrived on horseback since it suited his Spanish persona better. The press would have eaten it up.

Hana and Riley are standing next to a table of hors d'oeurves and sipping champagne. Drake had ditched Riley shortly after they made their grand entrance into the ballroom. When the camera flashes had gone off, Drake's body had stiffened and Riley had to keep a death grip on his arm to stop him from running away. Once he had spotted Hana at the hors d'oeurves table he escorted her that far and then made himself scarce. Riley didn't mind, because she knew these sort of events weren't his kind of thing, but she had made him promise to give her at least one waltz before the night was over.

The two ladies were oohing and aweing over the various costumes and trying to pick out the celebrities and nobles that they recognized.

Hana, in her flowered goddess of spring costume dress was getting plenty of looks of her own. With Riley's dark and sleek next to her sweet and ethereal they were the perfect picture of opposites. Yin and Yang.

Hana took a sip of her champagne and then gestured to a group of men standing across the room, nursing drinks and plates of food of their own.

"I can pick out Drake for sure, because for once his dressed up tuxedo looks casual compared to the other guys. But who is that guy in the tophat, tails and gloves? I don't recognize him."

Riley takes a moment to appreciate Drake in his tux, and then looks over the other men. She didn't know many of the noblemen at court, but she could pick out most of the Hollywood celebrities.

"I haven't a clue but the tall man in the bolero hat and boots looks like a tasty snack."

Hana takes in his costume and frowns. "He looks like a cross between a thief and a pirate. What is he dressed as?"

Riley takes a sip of her champagne and then smiles as she catches his eye from across the room. "He's not wearing the sword, but that is definitely a Zorro costume."

"What's a Zorro?" Hana asks.

"Not a what, a who. He stole from the rich and gave to the poor, sort of a Spanish version of Robin Hood." Riley says.

As the orchestra begins the first waltz of the evening, guests start pairing up. Drake stays rooted to his spot, there wasn't enough whiskey in him yet to attempt any dancing foolishness. The costumed  men next to him were openly debating which available women they wanted to proposition to be a dance partner. He eavesdropped on their conversation, waiting for the chance to defend the honour of Riley or Hana if they received any harsh comments.

Neville sipped his wine, and listened to Rashad talk about his options as he scanned the room himself.

"The dark haired vixen over there keeps looking at me." Rashad says, tipping his hat at Riley.

Drake frowns and then interrupts, "Actually I think she's wearing a cat mask."

Rashad smirks at Drake, "Oh believe me, I know a fox when I see one. Pardon me, I think I've found my first partner for the evening."

Before Drake can protest, Rashad weaves his way across the dancefloor and makes his way over to Hana and Riley.

Neville notices Drake's frown deepen as Rashad sweeps his cape to the side with a flourish, removes his hat and bows low to kiss Riley's hand.

"You seem to be interested in her as well, do you know her?" Neville says turning to Drake.

Drake tears his eyes away from Riley and Rashad, just realizing that the stranger next to him had asked him something.

"Huh? Oh yeah, I know her." Drake says, downing the last of his whiskey. 

When he looks back across the room he sees Hana standing by herself. Damn, that Zorro dickhead took her for a dance. He searches the crowd for his ridiculous hat, seeing them both on the far side of the room.

Neville gestures to Hana with his wine glass. "Well now that Rashad has claimed the girl in the black dress, why not take her for a spin instead? She is quite attractive."

Drake attempts to swallow the lump in his throat. He knew he couldn't keep up with the rest of the gentlemen dancers on the floor. He decides to spare Hana's toes from getting stomped on.

"Go ahead. She's a nice dancer. Her name is Hana by the way."

Neville grins, pulling off his hat and gloves and handing them to Drake. "I wouldn't mind at all, she does have a lovely smile. Here hold these will you?"

Drake is left alone at the bar, reluctantly holding Neville's things, as he strides over and approaches Hana. Looking down, he shoves the hat and gloves toward the bewildered bartender and then walks away.

Riley smiles up at Rashad as he whisks her across the dancefloor. He was an excellent dancer, even if she had to keep moving his hand off of her ass from time to time. He kept blaming it on the slippery nature of her gown, but she knew better. He held her against him a little too firmly at times as well, but she just went along with it. The dance wouldn't go on forever, and he was ridiculously charming. From time to time she spotted Hana dancing with someone as well. The dance steps of Hana's partner were more precise than romantic, and Riley wondered who he was. She'd lost sight of Drake entirely, and her scanning the room for him meant she often fell out of step with Rashad. He kept correcting her, and was losing his patience from her not following his lead.

Maxwell, carrying a plate of appetizers, finds Drake standing alone in the corridor between the ballroom and library. "Hey there Drake, I thought you came to this shindig with Riley?"

Drake sighs with exasperation. "Yes I know, but dancing isn't really my thing."

Maxwell looks hurt for a moment, since he was Drake and Riley's dance teacher, "But you were doing so well with your lessons."

"Dancing with Riley in private is one thing. But dancing with Riley with everyone else watching is something else." Drake replies, he really hated the idea of Riley dancing with somebody else, but he didn't want his own limitations to get in the way of her enjoying herself.

Maxwell pats him on the arm. "I understand buddy, big events like this can be overwhelming. But she's your date, and I know she would rather dance with you, squashed toes or not."

Drake nods, swiping the last shrimp canapé from Maxwell's plate and eating it. "You have a point. I promised her a dance afterall."

Maxwell smiles as Drake turns and walks back into the ballroom. "Go getter tiger."

As Drake makes his way through the crowd, he sees Liam talking with Madeleine nearby. Liam waves him over. Once he's within earshot Liam smiles and says, "So Drake, how are you enjoying the festivities so far?"

Drake shrugs, picking up a glass of  champagne from a passing server, "The food is tasty, but the drinks are better. So everything is fine."

Madeleine smirks, "High praise from Mr. Walker, so glad we're keeping you entertained."

Drake frowns at her and then downs his champagne. Stifling his burp with his fist. He feels amused at Madeleine's look of disgust.

Liam just shakes his head and grins. "So Drake are we going to see you on the floor during the upcoming Cordonian Waltz?"

Drake's eyebrows shoot up, and his eyes desperately search the crowd for Riley. "Uh, if I can find where my date has run off to sure!"

He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Riley walking over to them. "Oh look there she is."

Drake smiles as Riley steps up to him and tucks her hand under his arm. "Good evening your Majesty, Countess Madeleine." she says with a curtsey.

Liam looks Riley over from top to toe and gives her a warm smile.

Madeleine quirks an eyebrow, taking in Riley's risque choice of dress. "Good evening Riley."

As the orchestra begins the opening notes of the Cordonian Waltz, Madeleine pats Liam on the arm to draw his attention away from Riley. "Uh sweetheart, shall we dance?"

Liam's face flushes slightly as she leads him away, "Oh certainly..."

Drake slips an arm around Riley's waist, feeling how thin her dress actually was, sweeping his hand over her hip he didn't feel any discernible undergarments. Leaning in he whispers in her ear, "Please tell me you're not naked under this dress."

Riley turns her face toward him, her lips a breath away from his. "Maybe, maybe not." she says.

Closing his eyes, Drake groans and then looks away. "You're trying to kill me aren't you?"

As Riley leads him onto the dancefloor she whispers, "You'd die a very happy man Drake."

As guests start pairing up again, Riley sees Hana being led onto the floor by Rashad, Penelope is in the arms of his friend.

Taking up the starting position Riley checks Drake's form, he seemed to be ok. "Ready?" she asks.

"Yup," he lied. Drake was terrified.

As they sweep through the first few steps without any problems, Drake feels his confidence rising. Maybe he could do this afterall.

They both stumble a little but manage to avoid eachother's toes, and the other dancers. Drake holds up his arm and watches Riley do her spin. He smiles and brings her in close, her back pressed up to his chest. As the music changes, Riley twirls out of his arms again. When she gives him a slight curtsey and then turns toward her next partner, Drake starts to panic. Oh crap! I forgot this was supposed to be a group thing.

Drake turns to accept his next partner. It's a woman in a bluish green costume dress, he guessed by the design and the sequins she was supposed to represent a mermaid. She flashes a dazzling white smile at him as he takes her hand, leading her through the same steps as he did Riley. He tries not to step on the hem of her sparkly dress as he goes through the motions. Her red curly hair kept whipping him in the face, and he clamps his mouth shut so he doesn't have to taste it too. When he raises her hand and she does her spin she giggles and nearly trips over her dress. He gasps and reaches out to grab her by the waist to steady her. When she leans in close and attempts to kiss him, he panics and pushes her away gently. "Uh sorry, but no thanks."

Looking at the other dancers around them, to see which move he was supposed to be doing, he carefully turns her around and after giving her a slight bow, hands her off to the next gentleman.

He takes a quick look around the room to see where Riley was. She was with a man he didn't recognize, but by her smile and blush she did seem to recognize him. Drake tries to ignore the person who was tapping him gently on the shoulder with a shrug. "Um Drake?"

He turns to see Hana, and then breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God it's you. Please tell me this waltz ends soon."

He takes Hana's hand, not fighting her as she corrects his form and they go through the rest of the steps smoothly together. "Don't worry Drake," she says with a smile. "I should be your last partner."

Drake doesn't mind dancing with Hana, as she participated in Maxwell's dance lessons with him and Riley. She knew how to avoid his clumsy feet and smiled and nodded as he performed steps of a dance correctly. She was an excellent and patient teacher.

Drake smiles as she dances gracefully next to, and with him as the music ends. As he bows and she curtsies to end the waltz he's deeply relieved. "Thanks Hana. I'm so glad you didn't turn out to be another drunk mermaid."

Hana giggles and takes his arm as he leads her off the dance floor. "Oh my goodness Drake you poor thing."

Drake and Hana meet up with Riley, Rashad, Neville and Maxwell by the bar. Riley smiles and settles in next to Drake. He wraps his arm around her again, laying his hand on her hip. She wraps her arm behind him as well, tucking her thumb into his back pocket and cupping his ass cheek. Drake shoots her a warning look and she just smirks back at him with defiance.

Hana cozies up next to Maxwell, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Rashad and Neville exchange a surprised glance, assuming they're standing with two couples. Rashad removes his hat and mask, raking his hands back through his hair to fix it. He smiles and extends his hand to Maxwell in greeting.

"Lord Beaumont can you properly introduce us to your friends? I know we've both danced with these lovely ladies tonight but didn't know they were friends of yours."

Maxwell laughs and then shakes Rashad's hand, "Oh I'm sorry, sure. This lovely goddess of spring next to me is Miss Hana Lee of Shanghai.  Hana meet Earl Rashad Domvalier."

Hana and Riley remove their masks. Hana smiles, "It's a pleasure to meet you Rashad."

Rashad smiles, bowing low and taking Hana's hand and kisses it. "The pleasure is all mine Miss Lee. You are a lovely dancer."

"Thankyou Rashad, you're too kind."

No he's not, thought Neville. He's a lecherous lothario and if you only knew, you'd probably want to wash that hand Miss Lee.

Rashad straightens back up again, and then smiles, patting Neville on the back.

"Oh where are my manners? Lord Maxwell, Miss Lee, this gentleman next to me is Lord Neville Vancoeur."

Neville nods and smiles, "It's a pleasure to meet you both. And who are your other friends Lord Maxwell?"

Maxwell turns and indicates Drake and Riley. "Oh this is Drake Walker and Riley..."

"Riley Brooks!" ... Neville's eyes go wide. "Oh my goodness I recognize you now. Those tabloid photos of you and Tariq didn't do you any favours did they? You're far lovelier looking in person."

Riley's smile falters, not sure how to respond. Drake's arm tightens around her protectively.

Neville's expression goes from one of surprise to being apologetic, "Oh don't worry I don't believe the trash in the tabloids."

He steps forward and gives her a slight bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well Miss Brooks, and from what I've read you're being sponsored by the Beaumonts, a most honorable house."

Riley smiles, relaxing a little, "Thankyou Lord.."

Neville smiles, "Oh please, just call me Neville."

Drake extends his hand in greeting, "Lord Neville."

Neville shakes it, "It's a pleasure to meet you as well Mr. Walker... Walker?..Why does that name sound familiar?"

Drake braces himself for some kind of commoner insult. But it doesn't happen.

"The son of Jackson Walker I presume?" Neville's smile widens, he keeps a hold of Drake's hand, placing his other hand on Drake's arm to extend his warm greeting.

Drake frowns slightly. "You knew my Father?"

Neville shakes his head, "No unfortunately, but it's an honour to shake the hand of the son of a National Hero."

Drake grins, feeling a mixture of pride and embarassment. He'd never been acknowledged that way before. "Th..thanks."

Neville lets go of his hand, still smiling. He turns toward the others in the group. "Well now that we're all acquainted, why don't we all celebrate with a round of drinks?"

Drake glances at Riley, raising an eyebrow. "Sure, why not?" She says with a smile.

Everyone turns back toward the bar.

"Bartender? Six whiskeys please." Drake says.

-- the end--

[halfdeadfullgay]

404 - Title Not Found (Pt 3) WIP

Part 2 - Tumblr

Ao3

Summary: Jason learns just a bit more about the guy who feels familiar while doing laundry.

Danny sees Laundry Guy at the gala and wants to avoid him because it’s not everyday people from Crime Alley go to Wayne galas but amazing Fenton luck strikes.

AN PLEASE READ FIRST: As always this is crack, this is a whole crack fic; and I play fast and loose with DC&DP cannon. Ignore any out of character writing(mainly Vald and Bruce). Also this is a WIP, this is strictly a work in progress and not the final product. I just wanted to post something while working on this fic and other stuff and this won the vote.

Final things before the actual fic:

Kinda/slow Vald redemption aka still an asshole but one you can deal with

Danny - Quarter Guy

Jason - Laundry Guy

———————

Jason immediately knew that the other wasn’t from Gotham. No one just offered anything without an immediate confirmation that they would get something in return. At least that’s how it was in Crime Alley. He and the other held small talk while they were doing their laundry.

“You just offer quarters to people?” He said sarcastically only to have an actual answer in return. “Only the cute people.” The other said with a somewhat joking tone and wink.

“Uh huh. What’s ya name? I didn’t catch it.” Jason wouldn’t directly admit but this guy had peaked his interest even more.

“Well, I didn’t throw it.” The guy answered with a smile that felt sarcastic with just a bit of wanting chaos.

The topic changed to other things. He learned that Quarter Guy had moved to Crime Alley awhile back, he didn’t give a clear reason why; “Just thought it’d be a good change of pace.”

He also learned that Quarter Guy was going to some kind of event with his godfather; saying that even though he agreed to go, he could still complain. And god did he complain but nothing sounded too bad. “He’s just a fruitloop, I wouldn’t doubt him trying to use me to get secrets from the other people.”

Jason didn’t share any too personal information; besides it just being out of sceret identity and such but it would also feel weird to. Jason did complain about how he was more or less forced into agreeing to go to the Wayne gala, only not sharing that it was a gala or that it was a Wayne event.

“Maybe we end up at the same event.” Quarter Guy, who still didn’t tell Jason his name, joked. His laundry had been done before his own. Quarter Guy left with a smile that only made him want to figure out why he felt familiarly even more. Jason was more curious about this guy than before but decided to hold off on figuring out more about it.

—

It was just meant as a joke. Danny really did mean as a joke but just his fucking luck(or honestly he was expecting CW to be the cause in some way), he was now looking at the guy he gave quarters to a day or two pior. He was standing next to the snack table, avoiding Vald so he didn’t have to worry about talking to other rich people he didn’t trust. The snacks didn’t look good in any sense of the word, why did he expect rich people to know what good snacks look and taste like.

He was thinking about texting Sam to complain, knowing that she would say I told you so but he noticed the guy from his apartment building was there. It took a second to recgionze him since he seemed more put together and dressed nicer, but it was him. Danny wouldn’t have questioned it too much if the guy wasn’t standing next to Bruce Wayne but he was. Danny didn’t need to know any more rich people in his life but life(or probably CW) had other plans.

He noticed that the guy hadn’t seemed to see him yet. Danny moved away from the snack table, going opposite from Wayne and the Laundry Guy; mainly focusing on staying hidden but a voice called him. “Daniel!” It wasn’t loud, at least it wasn’t to humans. It had just enough of a hint of ghost speak to have Danny turn to look. Of course when he had his back turned, Vald had to go and speak to Bruce Wayne. The amazing Fenton luck stuck again.“Come over, I’ve hardly seen you since we’ve arrived.”

Danny held back a sigh and eye roll as he went over to Vald and Wayne; which also meant Laundry Guy. He had felt Wayne’s eyes on him as he went over, Laundry Guy hadn’t seemed to notice or frankly care enough to look. He looked at Bruce. He knew of “Brucie” Wayne and had wondered if it was just a persona like when Vald used to pretend to be niceish to his dad. He side eyed Laundry Guy, who didn’t look at him at all.

“You didn’t tell me you had a so-“ Bruce started with a hint of curiosity. Danny was quick to cut him off. “He didn’t because I’m not.” That’s what finally got Laundry Guy’s attention, he looked at Danny for a second and Danny already knew that he recognized him. “Daniel, that was rude.” Vald looked at him before going back to Bruce. “I apologize for him but he is right. He’s my godson.” Vald said, leaving it to Danny to introduce himself.

“Yes, I do apologize for cutting you off like that.” Danny started. He used the tone he would use with some of the ghost nobles. It was a bit forced but relatively kind. He’d hate to admit and never would out loud but he learned it from Vald. “It’s alright, I understand how words hold meaning.” He noticed how it sounded more real(?) than “Brucie” usually did.

He just nodded before continuing, “Okay. I’ll introduce myself before Vald tries to.” Danny made his tone sound just a bit joking. He felt Laundry Guy’s full attention on him. He smiled, a little fake and a little smug. “I’m Danny Fenton and as Vald said, I am his godson.”