enemies to lovers
I fucking love cats 🐱
Party time
Danny always knew tax evasion ran in his veins. His parents hadn’t been the most… morally sound of people, and less so as ecto-scientists.
He just didn’t think their lessons would ever result in a criminal empire that spanned the entire city and then some. Danny hadn’t seen it coming. His parents definitely wouldn’t have.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox.”
Danny ‘the Phantom’ Fenton sat down across from a rather tense looking (to Danny’s enhanced senses, anyways) Brucie Wayne and his right hand, Lucius Fox. He smiled pleasantly, matching Brucie’s vacant smile with that touch of Midwest suburban mother smile.
With his acquisition of multiple Gotham companies, his rather newly established Fentom Co. became one of the largest holding companies in Gotham, the first being Wayne Enterprises and the second being Drake Industries. After months of constantly working his butt off while fending off assassins, reforming Gotham’s slums and cleaning up some of the streets, and taking care of his nest of street kids, Danny garnered enough power to even stand close to Wayne Enterprises in terms of financial powers.
The topic of this meeting was, of course, the proposed merger of Wayne Enterprises’ Medical R&D division with Fentom Co.’s pharmaceutical department. Usually, Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t even consider such an offer, as their Medical R&D division was the most well funded and least likely to be part of a Rogue’s scheme- and therefore most beloved- department of the same nature in Gotham. However, Danny had something the other offers didn’t.
Blackmail.
His overly polite smile widened as Bruce’s mask twitched. His eyes slid over to Lucius Fox.
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard much about your genius in… research and development.”
By that, Danny meant that he knew Lucius Fox helped develop Batman’s tech.
He did a lot of stalking that week. It felt rather… invasive, even if he did get a bunch of juicy secrets.
You know what they say: dead men tell no tales… but halfas are generally blabbermouths.
“Is that so? It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Fenton.” The man quickly glanced between the youngsters, accurately predicting that this might have something to do with Bruce’s active nightlife.
“Yes, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”
Wow, Danny didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound both so perky and dead inside at the same time, except for Susan at Gotham High’s bake sale.
Bruce wishes he could be a Susan. He’s at best a Becky.
“Will you be staying, Mr. Fox? You’re the head of the R&D department, correct?”
“Ah, yes-”
“Oh, Lucius! I think you had an appointment with the finance department right now! I heard Sally talk about it, you know!”
Lucius Fox sent an unreadable look at Bruce before rallying.
“Oh, it must have slipped my mind. My apologies, Mr. Fenton, it seems as though I can not skip this appointment.”
“That’s alright. I suppose it gives you… plausible deniability… should things go wrong, haha!” Danny allowed his smile to widen a little further than natural. Bruce tensed but Lucius Fox simply politely smiled and left the room.
Ignorance is bliss and all that, Danny amusedly thought.
As the door shut with a click, Bruce dropped the vacant Brucie smile and sighed.
“What do you want,” he gritted out. Danny wasn’t about to let that slide, not after he spent the better part of this month wrangling Bruce’s problem children.
“Ah, it must be because I’m from the Midwest, Brucie, but where I come from, we value these things called manners.”
You uneducated jerk, he doesn’t say.
Danny leaned back in his chair, loosening his smile into something relaxed and sharp.
“…” Oh, boy, Danny could just hear the other man’s blood pressure rising. “What is the purpose of your visit, Mr. Fenton?”
“Relax, Brucie,” Danny sing-songed in a non-relaxing way. “I’m just here to discuss a possible merger that I’m sure you’ll agree to, and give you a couple of updates on your… wayward bird.”
He heard Bruce take a slow, controlled breath. “Very well. Where. Would. You. Like. To. Start.”
Danny ignored the gritted out sentence. He passed a contract to Bruce, who took it like he was handling a live bomb.
“Here’s the proposal, Mr. Wayne. Please, look it over.”
He watched as Bruce looked over the contract with an eagle eye before lowering it, scrutinizing Danny.
“This is… very fair.”
Danny raised an eyebrow. Of course it was fair. Danny wasn’t interested in exploiting the Waynes, despite them being very able to afford it.
He’d brought fifty manufacturing sites for pharmaceuticals, and offered up a building where both companies could send their workers. He provided top notch security- that definitely didn’t have any talons on staff, what were they talking about?- that came from his own security division. Granted, most of them were reformed and trained goons, but hey, creating jobs can only help Gotham’s economy and help break the cycle of poverty, right? Guaranteed by the Wayne name and, most importantly, uncompromised medicine that was accessible to everyone would be a damn good start. He’d also have Penguin’s empire to distribute it to those who couldn’t make it to a clinic or a store, and there were plans in there to work with and establish contracts with Gotham’s welfare department. Well… once Danny finished replacing them with people who wouldn’t try to take a cut of the funds and actually cared about the people. He was thinking… the multitudes of poor grad students and parents that need income. He’s in the process of building childcare centers and…
It’s a good thing he managed to save money from the taxes (thank you, Gotham’s morally ambiguous tax experts that were in desperate need for clients! He could do it himself but having a team of accountants at the ready was seriously so helpful.) because ancients knows the government weren’t about to step into Gotham and help the people here. He needs so much money to pull all of this shit off and a lot of it has to be clean.
Danny inwardly sighed and marked another thing onto his to do list.
Make money laundering fronts.

“Of course, Mr. Wayne. You didn’t think I’d come in here demanding money, did you?”
“I considered it.”
“I am, in fact, trying to help Gotham. You might not agree with my methods, but I’d rather not damage Wayne Enterprises when it’s doing so much to help the people.”
Ugh, he was doing too much work. Danny just wanted to- hah- chill at home and read bed time stories to his kids.
Bruce Wayne, the specific blend between Brucie and Batman, regarded him silently. Danny felt like he went up a few notches in the respect ladder.
Nice.
“You’re a criminal.”
“Says the man in the bat-suit breaking into places and assaulting people.”
Bruce’s hands spasmed around the contract. Danny smiled at him, taking a sip of the coffee they’d prepared. Oo, nice!
“Ah, I heard you’re adopting- pardon, fostering- Tim Drake. Getting empty nest syndrome, Brucie?” He slipped back into using Bruce’s first name. The proposal was formal. This… was very much not.
“What about it?”
“That’s very kind of you. Speaking of which, well, of your birds, I was wondering if you remembered what I asked you to do.” Danny continued, not giving Bruce a chance to reply. “Didn’t I ask for you to keep your birds in line, Brucie?”
The CEO straightened even further, form filling out to be Batman’s imposing figure. “I did.”
“No, you didn’t. Do you know where your charge is, right now? No, not the formerly dead one,” Danny tilted his head, smile shrinking.
“Don’t you dare do anything to Tim. I swear, if you even lay a hand on a strand of his hair, I’ll-”
“Sit your Armani clad ass down, Bruce.” Danny snapped. “Your son’s in your office. I don’t harm children, and your assumptions are deeply insulting. Threaten me again, Bruce, and I’ll make sure you know exactly how much I know about your birds, your cousin, and the commissioner’s daughter.”
Bruce snarled but leashed his anger just enough to sit back down. He itched to go check on Tim, but leaving a threat like Phantom unwatched felt inherently wrong.
“Your other son,” Danny continued. “Is doing quite well. He’s learning that he has hobbies again. He’s actually working under me, you know.”
“He’s what.”
Oh, yeah, that tracks. It figured that Jason wouldn’t tell Bruce about anything. He’s still conflicted about his death. Danny got it.
“Ah, that’s precious information. You’ll have to offer something of equal value if you want to know. There is, on the other hand, a piece of information I’ll give you for free.”
Danny paused for the dramatic effect. It was lost on Bruce, the ultimate drama queen of this world.
“The League of Assassins are hanging around Hotham lately. It’s getting tedious, getting rid of them. I suggest talking to your old flame, you know, with words and what little communication skill you’ve got rattling around in your noggin to get them to pull back. Her interest is… unnaturally focused on Jason.”
Danny read the dark agreement swimming about Bruce’s face and inclined his head. “Should negotiations fail, rest assured that Jason will be protected.”
“…Thank you.”
“You are most welcome. Go ahead and discuss the contract with Mr. Fox, I am sure you’ll find little problems with it. Ah,” Danny stood up, fixing his suit jacket. “And you should probably check up on Timothy. He’s probably having a great time in your office, Mr. Wayne.”
“I’ll see you out.”
“Of course.”
Having Batman escorting him out should probably be more intimidating.
Danny stood in the elevator, waiting for Bruce’s contemplative silence to put itself into words.
Sure enough, “What… what kind of hobbies does Jason have now?”
“I’d tell you to ask him, but you two aren’t on speaking terms, are you? He likes books, of course, but recently, he’s found an interest in glass blowing. He made quite a bit of progress on his attempts at sun catchers.”
“I see.”
Well, Danny’s not about to step on that landmine any more than he has to.
——
“Danny.”
“Oh, hey, Jason. Sit down, we were about to have dinner.”
Jason clambered into the window. Danny sighed. He had a door, but by the way Jason never used it, it was like the door didn’t exist.
“Mind telling me why the old bastard showed up on my rooftops with a bunch of glass and glassblowing tools?”
Danny smiled. “No idea.”
“Uh huh.”
Danny placed a hand on his chest and put on his best woe-is-me expression. The teen’s face twitched in annoyance. “Doubt? At me? Why, I never!”
A bread roll thwacked him in the face.
boring meeting
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Thank you so much for reaching out to me and I’ll do what I can to help you out. I hope things get better for you and your loved ones.
Just a warning, this au strays a bit close to NSFW territory in that it does talk about Sex Workers, but it does not mention or describe anything specific, mostly just discussing how they operate and some dangers they may face working in Gothem.
So, we all know that Tim would do a lot for the mission right? More than most people would. I mean, just look at Brucequest or the fact he came back after his 16th birthday or his first few months as Robin when he was basically Bruce's nanny. He also has many false life's he can slip into at the drop of a hat such as Alvin Draper or Caroline Hill. So why not add one more to those personas? A woman named Jane Doe, a sex worker who works just outside Crime Alley who everyone knows and knows everyone, but no one truly knows her nor have they ever seen her face, if she even is a woman as she uses all pronouns to get just a little more mystery added to them. Their outfit is constantly changing but also very specific, a short and highly attractive dress that doesn't look cheap and a full face mask in the style of Venetian Carnival Masks, Volto design specifically so that it covers his full face but shows striking blue eyes. Those he has colored contacts that he switches around constantly.
The reason that Tim does this is simple. Information. While Jason may be able to ask the sex workers under his protection questions, they wouldn't be as open with him as they would another sex worker. Tim can get information from them, the clients, the shop owners of the area, the homeless, anyone and everyone who is often on the street or connected to it that none of the other Bats would ever be able to get. And through his... services he gets a lot of information about up coming things thanks to a special discount everyone knows about. If you tell Jane a secret they don't already know, you get 10% off his services. Tell him 2 and you get 20%. So on and so forth, but it has to be things that Tim didn't already know and he's more than happy to hear about which rouges are hiring at the moment and when they stop hiring, after all, what easier way to predict when they are gunna do stuff than by when they get new henchmen?
A lot is known about Jane Doe, yet also nothing is known. Jane doesn't keep any of the money he makes, giving it to the other girls and often extra as well. No one knows where she keeps getting 100s of dollars to just *give* them but she does. Jane has three brothers, a sister, and a father but no mother. They don't know their names, simply knowing them as N, H, C, R, and B. Whoever they are, they're a well off family but they aren't good to Jane, bad enough that Jane feels safer on the corners of Gothem than the comfort of her home. They know from "funny" stories he tells about his family or via them asking about scars he forgets misses when he covers himself in makeup (there are so many, what have they done to you child?) And him always telling something close to the truth.
They know that N is his oldest brother and the only one who cared about him for a long time, who helped him and was the first person who ever made him feel truly happy. They also know that N took something very precious from Jane Doe without Jane's permission and shattered their trust in N. Tim never told them what was taken or that it was Robin, but in a profession like the one he shares with them, they all come to the same conclusion about what was taken and why Jane might seek comfort in this line of work.
They know that H is also his older brother and has hurt Jane often. They know that the slight scar on his neck he covers with a choker or makeup was made by H, as was the bullet scar in his leg. He laughed about that one, telling his friends how H had set down one of his guns after cleaning it, R picked it up and accidentally fired it, and it bounced twice before going clean through Tim's leg. He laughs about how mad H was at both of them and how he yelled at them to not tell B or else, using a mocking tone and laughter that only causes the others to glance at eachother in worry over their friend. Tim makes sure to reassure them that he got to the blood before it dried so it wasn't to hard to clean up. Tim may have read it as anger in Jason's voice when he said to not tell, but actually it was panic and worry about Tim's wound and how Bruce would react.
They don't know much about C, only that she managed to escape the hell hole known as Gothem and lives in another country. Sometimes she comes back for visits and Jane is always very excited when she does.
The other Sex Workers don't like R. They know that R has either threatened Jane with sharp objects or actually harmed her with them many times but has never gotten in trouble for it. Any time Tim has some left over injuries from patrol, he plays it off as either R or H getting agressive with him again and tries to calm them by saying, "oh come on. Both of them have only tried to *actually* kill me twice! It's fine guys, they won't seriously injure me." While having 5 stitches in his arm.
Jane doesn't talk about their Dad much, always getting quiet and looking away when he's brought up. They ask if B has ever hit him and Jane says, "he doesn't hit me anymore." And all of them want to kill him. They want to kill all of them (except maybe C) and bury their bodies where they'll never be found.
Of course, none of the Bats know about Tim's other nightly activities and where he gets his info from, simply shrugging and moving along. Tim is terrified of any of them accidentally finding out. But unfortunately that day could be coming soon as one of the workers goes to The Red Hood and grabs him by the jacket saying, "you're supposed to protect us right? That's what you promised us, isn't it? Saftey? Well one of the others, Jane, is in deep trouble. Their family is gunna *kill* them. Do whatever you need to do to keep Jane safe from those monsters, we'll tell you what we know, but stop them before she's just another dead body in Gothem Harbor. Do we need to pay you? We'll pay you however much it takes for you to make them pay."
This does remind me of a few fics that go over Tim's "Caroline" identity combined with the idea that Bruce was worse to Tim during his Robin years. Some fics do go into Tim having to go so far as actually having sex with people while some don't.
There are also a few fics of Tim going undercover in Crime Alley as a stripper, cocktail server, sex worker, or other when Red Hood finds out and loses his shit.
The idea of Tim using a fake identity to vent about his family issues is a really cool concept! It would allow him to see how the actions done against him were shit and not okay. He may have the mindset that his trauma is fine because it happened to him, but the separation of identities may help start that realization process. I'm also all here for the identity shenanigans of someone trying to save Jane from her family and accidentally going to one of the people who's hurt them. Lovely amounts of mixed emotions there.
This fic/AU would need to be careful to address both the trauma of Tim selling himself at such a young age as well as still treat sex workers with respect, individuality, and care. It would also be cool to see how the inner workings of the sex industry may be affected by Gotham (such as rogues, toxins, corruption, wealth disparity/poverty, etc).
But yeah! Lots to explore in this AU. I wonder if Tim, in this one, cares about pronouns or gender identity. Does he enjoy crossdressing, does he experiment with his gender identity, and does he make distinctions? I think it would be cool to indicate he's closer agender but is fine with whatever. I like to imagine, in this AU, that he simply doesn't care what gender identity he's perceived as unless that identity needs a specific gender.
Anyways, I am curious about how Red Hood reacts to his characterization by Jane. I wonder if she seems to be wary or distant from him before he finds out that's Tim. Hopefully, Jason tries not to take Jane's hesitance personally. Just because Red Hood is established as a protector doesn't mean that Jane would trust him. They may have their own reasons/experiences not to that has nothing to do with the anti-hero.
[Master List]
Danny liked to believe he was a good person, with a good heart, but even he knew he’d decided to do this more out of boredom than anything else. There were a lot of places and people he could help with his powers and wealth but there were only two reasons he’d agreed to help Lady Gotham. The first being; she’d asked. Who was he to turn down a city spirit who’d come to ask his help? What reason could he have for turning her down? Well, he was busy with his kingly duties, but that was exactly why he had to do it. He was bored.
Having graduated with his bachelor’s in the previous semester and the realms being completely calm and peaceful for the first time in a few thousand years, he’d grown bored. He’d honestly been considering finally dealing with the GIW on a more official basis (though he wasn’t sure he would be able to without overturning the Anti-Ecto Acts) but had ruled it out. He’d banned ghosts from Amity Park years ago and had discovered the GIW wasn’t doing too well for itself anymore.
So….
He’d agreed.
Of course Lady Gotham had been entirely ambiguous with her request and thus he’d decided to take certain liberties in the way he chose to help. If he was being honest he thought his ideas were much more helpful than what she may have been expecting. He’d hung up his metaphorical cape and retired Phantom shortly after high school. As king, he was still Phantom, but he didn’t plan on ever flying around as a vigilante again.
He wouldn’t have agreed to help if it meant he’d have to pick up his old mantle again.
Teen hero Phantom had died on a dissection table and there was no amount of Ectoplasm strong enough to bring him back.
Only a bit of research told Danny all he needed to know about Gotham and how he could best help. The birds and bats had rogues covered, they didn’t need Phantom anyways. But the thing that led to so many people becoming goons? To dealing drugs? To taking up crime? That was something neither the birds nor the bats were handling.
So using an infinitesimal amount of his disgustingly vast wealth, Danny bought a decent sized building in the middle of the Bowery, bought and apartment building nearby, and packed his things. Moving wasn’t difficult considering his handle on opening portals to the infinite realms and the fact that he was currently living in his keep.
Jazz had been… confused. She thought he was throwing away his freedom, shunning her hopes that he’d go for his PhD, but after he’d explained what he was doing she was more than happy to help in any way she could. After all, she was interning as a psychologist at Arkham Asylum while finishing her PhD at Gotham U. Anything that got her little brother to spend more time with her was a win in her books.
Getting the building ready for Danny’s plan was the most time-consuming part, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He took all the necessary precautions, had the building inspected and fumigated, installed heating and air conditioning, replaced the worn-out plumbing, and had Tucker create the best security system known to man- or ghost. He did all the same in the apartment building he’d bought (he also lowered the rent a fair bit without telling any of the current tenants).
Once the building wasn’t literally collapsing, he had the carpeted floors replaced (there was no saving the blood crusted carpets) with hard wood floors and colorful area rugs. At this point people had begun to notice all of the work going into the building, they didn’t ask questions though, that would be very Gothamite of them. Danny had spent every waking moment working on the building, hadn’t stepped outside more than a handful of times, and certainly hadn’t met any of the neighbors.
That was kind of the opposite of his intentions.
So he’d looked around for soup kitchens in the area, found one that served dinner at a time that fit in his schedule, and started volunteering. A few days after contacting them about volunteering he got a call that he was cleared to start whenever, and he agreed to come the next evening.
He arrived a bit earlier than they’d suggested but the woman in charge didn’t seem to mind too much.
“I’m Molly, you’re early.” A woman much taller than Danny with broad shoulders and biceps thicker than his head, crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. “I assume you want to work?”
He nodded, dumbstruck.
“Good. This way.” He followed her without a second thought. He found himself in a large kitchen filled with the sounds of chatter, chopping, and music. A couple of the volunteers were singing to the music while cooking. It was overall, really pleasant. “You know how to chop vegetables?” Molly asked.
He felt… condescended a bit but brushed it off. “Yeah I can chop.”
“Good, Les! You’ve got a new chopping buddy. Lanky, take a break.” Molly shouted orders to the rest of the staff while Danny took over chopping from Lanky, apparently.
A young woman -he assumed she was Les?- handed him the knife Lanky had been holding and pointed to a large sack of potatoes. “Chop all of those, then put them into the pot to your right.” She brushed a strand of light brown hair behind her ear and continued chopping carrots.
The two chopped in relative silence, the sounds of the kitchen washing over them, until he finished the sack of potatoes he’d been working on. Danny was a lot slower than Les but she had more carrots than he had potatoes, so he finished first. “Done.”
She looked up, finished what she was doing, and wiped her hands on her apron. “Good. Can you finish these carrots while I move the potatoes and see what else we need done?” He got to work on the carrots while Les ran around making sure everything was running smoothly. By the time she returned he had finished the carrots as well.
“Good,” There was approval in her voice, and he fought off a blush. “Dinner is starting soon. We’ve plenty of people working on the food, you up for serving?” He nodded, wiping his hands on his own apron before following her away from the kitchen.
“Wash up here.” She gestured to a sink beside the door leading to the eating area. While he washed his hands she explained what he’d be doing. “You’re just serving one dish, so it’s not complicated. One ladle-full per tray, no seconds, there won’t be leftovers as it is. Be kind and respectful, we have people if anybody gets rowdy so don’t try to be a hero.” It was a strange warning but… well, it was Gotham.
He nodded obediently and followed her to the pot of stew that was already made which he’d be serving from tonight.
“Service starts in ten minutes; we’ve already got quite a line. Someone will come to relieve you for a break in two hours. Dinner last four hours- I assume you’re here for the whole night?” He nodded again. “Good, you’ll get a twenty-minute break to eat and rest before going back to give someone else their break, understand?”
It was a relatively easy job- though he tried not to think too deeply about some of the people he served. You can’t save everybody, Danny. Jazz’s voice echoed in his mind as he watched two young boys get food, refusing to make eye contact with any of the volunteers. The older boy muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ before dragging the younger boy away and finding a spot in the corner away from everybody else.
He tried to put them out of his mind as he continued to serve the everybody else. He couldn’t. Danny found himself glancing towards the corner every few minutes to watch out for the boys, something about them reminded him of Jazz and himself- though he wasn’t sure why. Other than the overprotective older sibling thing, there wasn’t much to compare. Still, he felt a sort of… pull towards the boys.
It wasn’t ectoplasmic, they just… clearly they needed help- two kids wouldn’t be in a soup kitchen if they didn’t but- You can’t save everybody, Danny. And you’ll kill yourself fully trying to. Jazz was right, like usual- of course he’d never tell her that but-
“-nny? Hello?” Someone tapped his shoulder, his head whipped to the side, startling the newcomer. “Sorry man, just trying to send you on your break. You good?”
Danny nodded, setting down the ladle and moving aside for the other man. He needed to clear his mind.
~~~
He painted the walls. Pale colors that complimented the even more colorful posters he hung over top and went nicely with the rugs. He considered tuning it down a bit when it came to the furniture, but what was the point? Colors were fun- kids liked colors, right? So the plastic tables and chairs were yellow and red and green and blue and purple and any other color you could think of.
And once the furniture was moved in he was able to buy toys. Toy boxes were filled with various brand new and colorful toys, shelves were packed with unread books in perfect condition, and crayon boxes with coloring books were laid neatly on each table. The cabinets were stocked with Sam-approved snacks, the first aid kit was over-stocked, and the closet was filled with a wide range of clothing for kids who might not have hats, gloves, coats, or anything else they might need. He'd buy more when he finally had kids to buy for.
Lady Gotham hadn’t said a word about his plan, but she’d nodded resolutely, thanked him, and went on her way, and that was enough encouragement to continue.
On one of the last days of constructions, Danny received a visitor.
“So this is where you’ve been, eh babypop?”
Looking up from the paperwork Danny had been poring over, he smirked. “I guess I missed living in a haunted town.”
She rolled her eyes and sauntered closer. “So you’ve- what? Traded your throne for a plastic rainbow chair?”
“I didn’t trade anything. Lady Gotham asked for help, and I had time. It’s not like I’ll be here forever. Just until Gotham is faring a bit better. Maybe I’ll find someone I trust to give this place to sometime down the line.”
Ember leaned her hip against his desk and crossed her arms. “And you’re doing this alone?”
He shrugged. “Jazz is in school and interning at Arkham, Sam’s in San Francisco with Val and Tucker, and who knows where Dani is.” He frowned at something on the paperwork before shrugging again and writing something down.
“That wasn’t what I meant, kid.”
“I’ve gotten really good at the whole duplication thing recently so, yeah, I was going to do this alone. Who else would help me? I mean, maybe I’ll hire some help down the line, but I’ve got to be established first.” Danny knew full well that his current plan would have him exhausting himself on a daily basis. Working long days, by himself, while duplicating himself enough to take care of an unknown number of kids would drain him.
A hand grabbed his pen away before he could keep working on his paperwork and he looked up to try and snatch it back. Ember was leaning into his space, holding the pen away from him. “I was offering to help, Babypop. Actually, I’ve talked to a few people who are offering to help.”
Frowning, Danny searched the desk for another pen. “You do realize this isn’t like the Infinite Realms, right? You can’t duel a kid, you can’t mind control children, you aren’t allowed to fuck shit up here.”
“Wow, is that all you think I’m capable of?” The hurt in her voice was feigned but he wondered if there was a tiny bit of truth behind it.
“That’s not what I meant, Ember. I- just- who wants to help?”
She smirked.
That was how Danny found himself surrounded by ghosts, going over rules and expectations if they wanted to help. Lunch Lady, Ember, Dora, and a few others he didn’t know as well, listened as he laid down the law. The safety of the kids came before all else. It came before their own safety, it came before Danny’s identity, it came before everything. If they were going to do this, they would be doing it the right way.
“There is also the matter of the birds and the bats.” Danny sighed, leaning against his desk and facing his friends? Subjects? Fellow ghosts.
Ember scoffed. “I don’t need that talk from you, babypop.”
“No no- not the birds and the bees. The birds and the bats. Gotham vigilantes.” The ghosts nodded in understanding. “They are not to be messed with, understood? The Anti-Ecto Acts are still very much in play, and I cannot tell you what side the birds and bats will be on but presumably, the governments. Batman founded the Justice League so not only does he work for the government, but they failed Amity multiple times, I do not trust them.
“First and foremost; Batman. He’s the leader of the birds and bats as far as I can tell. He’s been around for over twenty years, the world’s greatest detective, and keeps up with heroes like superman, avoid at all costs. His sidekick is Robin, a kid in green, red, and yellow, he has swords, and we all know that despite his age, he is probably pretty dangerous.”
“Okay we get it; you beat all of us while you were a scrawny fourteen-year-old.” Ember scoffed.
“Everyone else is listening quietly, Em.” He glared pointedly. “Anyway, next is Nightwing- he’s technically Bludhaven’s vigilante but he helps around Gotham on the regular. Wears black and blue, my understanding is he’s generally pretty friendly, but I don’t want to take any chances. Then there’s Red Robin, he’s said to be a tech genius and considering Tucker’s obsessed with him, I’d say that’s probably true. Despite that, he’s not chump, I’ve seen some videos, he can fight, and he fights dirty. He wears black and red.
“Red Hood wears the bat emblem, but he works mostly on his own in Crime Alley. He wears a red helmet- I know, he should be wearing a hood, but whatever. Hood is the only one that I’ve heard a good deal about, I’ve heard whispers of him in the realms, spirits who are grateful to him for avenging them like to call him the avenger of the dead. I have a great deal of respect for him. That being said; Red Hood kills, he is the only vigilante in Gotham that carries guns- not dangerous to you, but still, avoid him at all costs.”
“I don’t see the importance of such a warning, we cannot die.” Dora frowned.
Danny nodded in agreement. “No, you’re right, you probably don’t need to be all that concerned. However, if they find out about us and what we are, there’s no telling if they’ll get their hands on ghost tech from my- from the Fentons.” Ember gave him a sympathetic look at his slip. “I don’t want them learning anything about us or the Realms for all of our safety.
“Signal is the daytime hero, he wears bright yellow and my understanding is he’s also super friendly. I found a video of him teaching street kids how to do a backflip. I’ve also seen him punch goons into next week so again, dangerous. Spoiler wears purple, she’s a badass any way you look at it. She’s quippy, flippy, and intense. More intense though is black bat, who wears all black and doesn’t speak.” He took a deep breath and made sure he’d said everything already. “I think that’s everyone. Questions?”
~~~
The daycare was almost entirely finished, Danny had been spending more time there than at his apartment, and he’d had Tucker craft fake identities for everybody who wanted to help out. With how stressful things had been Danny felt the need for an extra-large, extra caffeinated, heart attack inducing coffee. There was one coffee shop he loved in the Upper East Side that knew him well. He’d come by for a coffee every morning since moving to Gotham five weeks ago and the barista’s had quickly began recognizing the man who got a black coffee with seven shots of espresso and a disgusting amount of syrup. He imagined not many people got that kind of drink. (He hoped).
Jesse smiled when Danny approached the counter and began typing his order from memory. “How’s the construction going, Danny?” They asked.
Offering his own tired smile, Danny nodded. “Construction’s done, just finishing up some stuff on the inside and paperwork.”
“That’s great!” Jesse accepted Danny’s card, swiping it through their register. “My uncle lives in the Bowery and he has a little girl. The daycare could really help a lot of people.” Their voice was warm and slightly sad at the same time. “I hope it works out.”
Taking his card back and their words as a dismissal, Danny gave a nod and moved towards the hand-off plane to wait for his drink. He checked his phone; Jazz had been blowing it up with more ideas for his egregious wealth could benefit the people of Gotham. She’d mentioned a lot of ideas that were… well they weren’t bad per se, but Danny already had a lot on his plate with the Daycare opening in just under a week.
He wrote each suggestion down in his notes app anyways. A lot of them were things Gotham already had; food banks, homeless shelters, etc. but some of them were more interesting. A mechanic who fixed up cars for free, a tutoring program for kids who weren’t in school but wanted to go back, classes on how to combat different kinds of gasses and poisons (specifically fear gas, Poison Ivy’s different toxins, and Joker Venom), first aid programs, and a whole lot more. Danny hoped to implement a lot of Jazz’s ideas at some point, but for now, he was just one guy.
One guy who barely saved himself.
Jesse handed Danny his drink and waved as they turned to help another customer. Moving towards the exit, Danny narrowly avoided crashing into a bigger man who clearly didn’t have special awareness but in turn crashed into a much smaller man.
“Oh shit!” Danny’s drink spilled all along his front and onto his shoes and he cringed at the painful heat coming into contact with his sensitive scars. “I’m really sorry.” He sighed, looking over the other man to see he hadn’t actually spilled any of his drink on the other man. Thank Ancients.
The other man, who was only slightly shorter than Danny, was pressing napkins into Danny’s shirt. “Don’t worry about it. Are you okay? That looked really hot.”
Danny nodded, taking the napkins from the other man and wiping away what he could without rubbing his scars. “Yeah… it was. I’m just glad I didn’t spill it on you.” He froze. “I didn’t, right?”
The other man shook his head. “I’m fine, thanks. Let me buy you another one- it was kind of my fault anyways.”
“We both know I crashed into you.” Danny raised an eyebrow. He didn’t need anyone to buy his coffee, he was disgustingly wealthy, if anything, he should be buying the stranger his coffee as an apology for crashing into him.
“Whatever, let me buy your coffee as an apology anyways.” Danny shrugged, following the man up to the counter. He was going to buy a replacement anyways; he might as well let this stranger buy it for him.
Jesse raised an eyebrow at the duo. “Oh god. I was hoping you two would never meet.”
Danny and the man looked at each other strangely before looking back at Jesse. “Why?” They asked in unison.
“Two large hot coffees with seven shots of espresso and fifteen pumps of vanilla?” They raised their eyebrow, looking between the two men judgmentally.
Danny turned to the stranger, who in turn did the same, both looked at each other before promptly bursting into laughter. “Oh my Ancients, you too, huh?” Danny pretended to wipe away a tear as the other man ran a hand through his hair.
“A man of taste.”
Jesse swiped the man’s card. “I’ll have them in a minute, Tim, Danny.” They nodded to each of the men dismissively and they took their cue.
They took a seat near the hand-off plane and Danny realized he’d never introduced himself properly. “I’m Danny, sorry about almost dropping my coffee on your very expensive looking suit.”
The man -Tim apparently- waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m Tim, sorry about making you dump boiling hot coffee all over yourself.”
“Better my t shirt and jeans than your Armani suit.”
“I save the Armani for special occasions.” Tim smirked. “So what could you possibly be doing that requires a level of caffeine that could kill an elephant?”
Danny rolled his eyes. “Jeez, you sound like my sister. I’ve spent the last five weeks renovating a place in the Bowery and turning it into a daycare. Only a few days before it opens, and I’ve already got a couple of kids signed up, so I imagine I’ll be drinking this every day for the rest of my life. How about yourself? You must have a crazy job to be drinking that much coffee.”
Tim looked surprised briefly before masking it. “I’ve got some business meetings today I’ve been putting off for a while. I usually drink a few coffees a day to get through all the bullshit the board likes to pull.”
“You must be pretty high up to be dealing with a board. I know how much those meetings suck. I usually just fake an emergency- of course they start to catch on when you do it every single time- but you know- I don’t really care.” He chuckled thinking about the last council meeting in the realms when Frighty’d almost had an aneurysm from Danny’s antics.
Tim’s head tilted. “Where do you work?”
He hadn’t anticipated this question which was stupid because he was the one who’d brought up dealing with his own board, Danny was saved by Jesse. “Tim!” They called from the bar. Two identical coffees sat on the hand-off plane and the men moved in unison.
Drink in hand, Danny turned to Tim. “Well thanks for the coffee, Tim. I’ve gotta get back to the daycare but it was nice meeting you!” He smiled, offering a hand to shake.
Tim took it, holding his own coffee in his other hand. “You too, Danny. I’ll see you around?”
“Unfortunately!” Jesse called from behind the bar.
~~~
This is a fic on AO3 but thought I'd post the parts here separately for anyone who wanted to read them on Tumblr
AO3 Link
Original Prompt from @glow-in-the-dark-death
Next
Duke, coming to 38 hours later, unable to feel his hands, with a suspect in handcuffs: Wh- What just happened?
Tim: Magic my friend, magic.
Commission Info / Kofi
Amity Parkers moving to Gotham for college. Sam and Paulina pooling their trust funds together to buy an abandoned hotel and fitting it as apartments for everybody. They all train together in the courtyard to keep their skills up and just because it's fun. Suddenly an influx of super competent self-trained (or maybe ghost-trained) young adults.
Everybody having their little niches and suddenly they all have more free time that's not being taken up by ghost attacks so many of them started different YouTube channels with info they found out from the ghostly residents of Amity. Star and Paulina running a history of beauty channel going over makeup, hair styles and fashion, special guest Sam when going over alt fashions. Dash and Kwan running one on the history of sports. Wes and Mikey running a conspiracy theory podcast. Valerie running a martial arts channel. Danny just info-dumping about space and spacecraft in videos that range from 45 minutes to four hours. Tucker running a how-to channel for fixing tech and coding. Sam running a combination true crime and witchy channel. The Trio running a Let's Play channel.
Ghostly things happening in all of the videos and everybody guesting on everybody else's channels leads to everybody thinking it's all an elaborate ARG. Danny just floating through the walls half-asleep with a glowing shaker bottle in the background. Some of them when they're in the middle of a rant seem to forget to take a breath or their eyes or freckles start glowing. On a livestream Paulina snaps at somebody off screen and her eyes are suddenly glowing green. Danielle pops in during a charity livestream that the Trio are running and calls Danny-Daddy, Sam-Mom, and Tucker-Dad and is just floating on the back of the couch. Danny doing a stream to watch a rocket take off and suddenly a robe and crown flash and he disappears in a flash of green and the stream is just dead space until the rocket's about to take off and Danny comes running in and jumps over the back of his chair to watch it and cheer.
Now Playing: RedBone~ Childish Gambino
Vivica's Pov
Vivica adjusted her sunglasses as she pulled into the circular driveway of the Haden estate. It wasn't as imposing as Wayne Manor—few residences in Gotham were—but the sprawling contemporary home with its sleek lines and floor-to-ceiling windows spoke of understated wealth and impeccable taste. Just like its owner.
She hadn't seen Vivian in nearly three weeks, not since before her life had been turned upside down by Bruce Wayne's reappearance and the revelation of his nocturnal activities. Now that she and Bruce had finally reached an understanding, she was eager to reconnect with her oldest friend—the only person outside the Wayne household who might understand the complicated emotions she'd been processing.
Before she could even ring the doorbell, the massive front door swung open to reveal a statuesque woman with elegant braids piled atop her head, dressed in a crisp white pantsuit that complemented her rich brown skin.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Vivian Haden said, her stern expression breaking into a warm smile. "I was beginning to think you'd fallen off the face of the earth."
Vivica laughed, stepping forward to embrace her friend. "I know, I know. I'm the worst."
"You're forgiven. Barely." Vivian hugged her tightly before pulling back to study her face. "There's something different about you."
"Different how?"
Vivian narrowed her eyes. "You're glowing. And not in that 'I got a good night's sleep' way. More in that 'I'm getting fucked regularly' way."
"Via!" Vivica glanced around, mortified. "Your daughters could hear you."
"Please. They're all in the back, probably plotting world domination or another TikTok dance, I can never tell the difference." Vivian linked arms with Vivica, leading her into the house. "Besides, you're avoiding the question, which means I'm right."
Vivica couldn't suppress her smile. "Let's just say I've reconnected with someone."
Vivian stopped dead in her tracks, jaw dropping. "No. Wait. Bruce Wayne? You're back with Bruce Wayne?"
"How did you—"
"Girl, please. Who else could possibly put that specific look on your face? You've been hung up on that man since we were teenagers." Vivian shook her head, pulling Vivica toward the kitchen. "I need wine for this conversation."
The kitchen was a chef's dream—all gleaming stainless steel and white marble, with state-of-the-art appliances that looked like they'd never been used. Vivian grabbed a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator and poured two generous glasses.
"Spill," she commanded, sliding one across the counter to Vivica. "And I want all the details this time. No more of this 'we drifted apart' bullshit you fed me five years ago."
Vivica took a fortifying sip. She'd prepared for this, carefully considering how much to share with Vivian. The Batman secret wasn't hers to tell, but she couldn't lie to her best friend either.
"It's complicated," she began. "Bruce is... not who I thought he was. Or rather, he's more than I thought he was."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning he kept parts of himself hidden from me when we were together before. That's why I left. But now..." Vivica traced the rim of her glass. "Now I know everything. And it changes things."
Vivian leaned forward, her expression serious. "Is he involved in something illegal? Because if he's dragging you into some—"
"No!" Vivica said quickly. "Damn. Nothing like that. Just the opposite, actually. Bruce is a good man, Viv. Better than I ever realized."
"But secretive," Vivian noted skeptically.
"Yes. Though he's working on that." Vivica smiled softly, remembering their conversations in the garden. "We both are."
Vivian studied her for a long moment, then sighed. "Well, you're a grown woman who runs her own tech empire. If you say he's worth a second chance, I believe you." Her expression turned mischievous. "Besides, the man is fine as hell and richer than God. There are worse second chances to take."
Vivica laughed, relieved. "Thank you for your blessing. Speaking of which..." She took another sip of wine. "I was hoping you and the girls would come to dinner at Wayne Manor this weekend. Meet Bruce properly."
"Dinner at the mysterious Wayne Manor?" Vivian raised an eyebrow. "That's a step up from the last time I saw him, when he was climbing out your bedroom window at 2 AM."
"That was twenty years ago!"
"Some memories are eternal," Vivian said solemnly, then broke into laughter. "Of course we'll come. The girls will be thrilled. You know they adore their Godmother Viv. Raymond is out on business so they missed you."
As if summoned by the mention of their names, the sound of arguing voices floated in from the back of the house.
"Mom! Tell Stona to stay out of my room!" a voice called.
"I was just borrowing a charger!" came the indignant reply.
"Without asking!"
Vivian rolled her eyes heavenward. "And here we go."
The kitchen doors swung open, and four young women spilled into the room in various states of agitation—until they spotted Vivica.
"Auntie Viv!" The youngest, Stona, rushed forward first, her curly hair bouncing as she threw her arms around Vivica's waist. Despite being fourteen, Stona still had the enthusiastic energy of a child, her bright smile lighting up her entire face.
"Hey, baby girl," Vivica said, hugging her back. "You've grown since I last saw you."
"Half an inch," Stona confirmed proudly. "I'm trying to catch up to these giants." She jerked a thumb toward her older sisters.
"Not happening, shorty," Malaysia, the second eldest at twenty-three, said with affectionate condescension. She towered over her youngest sister, her long, light-colored hair cascading past her shoulders in elegant waves. She moved to hug Vivica next, her grace reminiscent of her mother's. "We've missed you, Auntie."
"Yeah, where've you been hiding?" Corin asked, pulling Vivica into a quick, fierce hug. At twenty-five, Corin was the most direct of the sisters, her short, stylish hair and athletic build giving her a confident presence that matched her forthright personality.
"Working, unlike some people I could mention," Alieza teased, nudging Corin aside to claim her own hug. Twenty-one and curvy/plus size, Alieza had her mother's business acumen combined with a warmth that made her instantly approachable. "Don't listen to them, Auntie Viv. We know you're busy running your company."
Vivica laughed, surveying the four young women with affection. They were all so different from one another, yet unmistakably sisters in the way they moved, in certain expressions, in the deep bond that connected them even through their bickering.
"I've missed all of you," she said sincerely. "Which is why I came to invite you to dinner this weekend."
"Ooh, where?" Stona asked eagerly.
Vivica exchanged a glance with Vivian. "Wayne Manor."
There was a beat of silence, then four voices erupted simultaneously:
"THE Wayne Manor?"
"As in Bruce Wayne?"
"Are you dating him again?"
"Does he have a pool?"
Vivian clapped her hands sharply. "One at a time, for heaven's sake. You weren't raised by wolves."
"Yes, THE Wayne Manor," Vivica confirmed, amused by their reactions. "Bruce and I have... reconnected. And I'd like you all to meet him—formally, this time."
"Didn't we meet him at that charity gala two years ago?" Malaysia asked, frowning slightly. "He seemed..."
"Distant," Corin supplied.
"Arrogant," Alieza added.
"Hot," Stona said with a shameless grin, earning herself an eye roll from her mother.
"He can be all those things," Vivica acknowledged. "But there's much more to him than his public persona." She hesitated, then added, "He has four sons, actually. Adopted. Well, three adopted and one biological."
That caught their attention.
"Four sons?" Vivian repeated, eyebrows raised. "When did this happen?"
"During the five years we were apart," Vivica explained. "It's... another part of the complicated story. They're good young men. Different, but all special in their own ways."
"How old?" Malaysia asked, a hint of interest creeping into her voice.
"Dick is twenty-six, Jason's twenty-three, Tim's twenty-two, and Damian is thirteen," Vivica recited, watching realization dawn on Vivian's face as she noted the ages matching her own daughters—except for Stona and Damian, who were close but not exact.
"Well, isn't that convenient," Vivian murmured, lips twitching.
"What are they like?" Corin asked, trying to sound casual.
Vivica considered how to describe the Wayne boys. "Dick is charming, athletic, the responsible oldest. Jason is intense, a bit of a rebel but fiercely loyal. Tim is brilliant, thoughtful, tech-savvy. And Damian..." she smiled. "Damian is a force of nature."
"They sound interesting," Alieza said, exchanging glances with her sisters.
"Oh, they are," Vivica assured them. "So, Saturday at seven? I'll text you the address."
"We'll be there," Vivian confirmed, giving Vivica a look that promised a more detailed interrogation later. "Won't we, girls?"
Four heads nodded, with varying degrees of enthusiasm and curiosity.
As Vivica left the Haden house an hour later, she couldn't help but smile at the thought of bringing these two families together. Bruce's boys and Vivian's girls—it could either be a disaster or the beginning of something wonderful.
Either way, it would certainly be interesting.
---
"A dinner party?" Bruce looked up from his computer, expression somewhere between confused and alarmed. "Here? With people who don't know about..." He gestured vaguely toward the hidden entrance to the Batcave.
Vivica perched on the edge of his desk in the study. "Yes, Bruce. A normal dinner with my best friend and her daughters. People do this sort of thing all the time. It's called 'socializing.'"
"I socialize," he protested. "The Wayne Foundation gala last month—"
"Was work," Vivica interrupted. "This is different. This is personal. Vivian is practically my sister, and her girls are like nieces to me. I want the people I love to know each other."
Bruce's expression softened at her words. "Of course. I'd like to meet them properly." He frowned slightly. "Alfred will need time to prepare. And the boys—"
"I've already spoken to Alfred. He's thrilled at the prospect of cooking for guests who aren't wearing capes or cowls." Vivica smiled. "As for the boys, I thought I'd let you break the news."
Bruce leaned back in his chair, studying her face. "There's something you're not telling me."
She shrugged innocently. "I may have mentioned that Vivian has four daughters, all around the same ages as your sons."
Understanding dawned in Bruce's eyes. "Vivica..."
"What? It's just dinner." She leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his lips. "Besides, your boys could use some normal social interaction with people their own age."
"My boys are anything but normal," Bruce pointed out.
"All the more reason." She stood up, smoothing her skirt. "Saturday at seven. Smart casual dress. No bat-talk."
Bruce caught her hand before she could walk away. "You're remarkable, you know that?" His voice was low, sincere.
"For organizing a dinner party?"
"For building bridges between my world and yours. For making space for normalcy alongside..." he gestured again toward the cave beneath them.
Vivica squeezed his hand. "That's the whole point, Bruce. They're not separate worlds anymore. Just different rooms in the same house."
As she left him to his work, she heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like, "Easier said than done."
---
The news of the impending dinner party received mixed reactions from the Wayne household.
Dick, predictably, was enthusiastic. "It'll be nice to have some new faces around here," he said as he helped Alfred polish the formal dining room's massive table. "What are they like, these Haden sisters?"
"Diverse in personality, but all quite remarkable," Alfred replied, having received a full briefing from Vivica earlier. "Miss Malaysia is the second eldest—poised, ambitious, currently finishing her law degree at Gotham University."
"A lawyer, huh?" Dick said, a spark of interest in his eyes.
"Indeed, sir. Miss Corin is an athlete—national level in mixed martial arts, I believe. She's a teacher."
Jason, lounging in the doorway and pretending not to listen, perked up slightly at this information.
"Miss Alieza is studying computer science and business, apparently quite the technological prodigy," Alfred continued, glancing meaningfully at Tim, who was setting out the fine china with careful precision.
"And the youngest, Miss Stona?" Damian asked from where he sat sketching the table arrangement, supposedly to help Alfred but mostly to eavesdrop.
"An artist, Master Damian. Painting and sculpture, primarily. Only nineteen, but already featured in several Gotham galleries."
Damian's pencil paused briefly on his paper. "Hm."
Bruce, observing this exchange from the doorway, caught Vivica's eye with a raised eyebrow. She smiled innocently in return.
The night of the dinner arrived with unusual tension in the manor. Bruce found all four of his sons in various states of preparation, each putting more effort into their appearance than he'd seen for formal Wayne Foundation events.
Dick had opted for a blue button-down that matched his eyes perfectly, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms toned from years of acrobatics and crime-fighting. Jason, after much apparent deliberation, had chosen a dark red Henley that complemented his broader build, his usual leather jacket nowhere to be seen. Tim wore a forest green sweater over a collared shirt, his typically tousled hair actually combed for once. And Damian, most surprisingly of all, had abandoned his usual formal attire for a more age-appropriate outfit of dark jeans and a charcoal sweater, his hair meticulously styled.
"Not a word," Damian warned when he caught Bruce looking.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Bruce assured him, fighting a smile.
Vivica descended the main staircase at quarter to seven, stunning in a simple burgundy dress that hugged her curves. Bruce felt his breath catch, still not entirely used to the reality that she was here, in his home, in his life again.
"You look beautiful," he said, meeting her at the bottom of the stairs.
"You clean up pretty nicely yourself," she replied, straightening his tie. "Where are the boys?"
"Hovering near windows, pretending they're not watching for the arrival of your guests," Bruce said dryly.
As if on cue, the distant sound of tires on gravel reached them, followed by Dick's too-casual announcement from the living room: "I think they're here."
Alfred appeared with perfect timing, moving to open the front door as a sleek black SUV pulled up. Vivian emerged first, elegant in a navy pantsuit, followed by her four daughters, each dressed to impress in their own distinctive style.
Bruce and Vivica greeted them at the door, and Bruce found himself immediately enveloped in Vivian's critical assessment.
"Bruce Wayne," she said, extending her hand with regal poise. "It's been a long time."
"Too long," he agreed, shaking her hand firmly. "Welcome to Wayne Manor, Ms. Haden. I see you didn't bring Raymond with you. "
"Vivian, please. We're well past formalities, especially if you're back in my best friend's life." Her tone carried a subtle warning that wasn't lost on Bruce. "And, my husband is out on business. But, I'm sure my company would do just fine."
"Vivian it is," he said with a nod of acknowledgment. "And, of course, allow me to introduce my family."
The boys had materialized behind them, standing in an unconsciously defensive formation that made Vivica hide a smile. Bruce introduced each son with quiet pride, and Vivica watched the Haden sisters take in the Wayne boys with various degrees of interest.
Malaysia's gaze lingered on Dick, noting his easy smile and confident stance. Corin's eyes widened slightly at Jason's muscular build, her athlete's assessment unmistakable. Alieza and Tim exchanged shy smiles when their names were called, a silent recognition passing between them. And Stona, vibrant and artistic, openly studied Damian's serious face with undisguised curiosity.
"Shall we move to the dining room?" Alfred suggested after the introductions were complete. "Dinner is prepared."
As they filed into the manor's grand dining room, Vivica found herself grateful for Alfred's careful seating arrangement, which had naturally paired each Wayne son with the Haden daughter closest to their age, with Bruce and Vivica at the heads of the table and Vivian positioned between Dick and Jason.
Conversation started awkwardly, as Bruce attempted small talk with the practiced charm of his public persona. Vivica could see Vivian's skeptical expression—this was exactly the distant, artificial Bruce she'd warned her friend about.
But then Stona, uninhibited as always, changed the dynamic.
"So is it true you have a T-Rex in the house?" she asked Bruce directly, ignoring Malaysia's face "Stona! Shut the hell up!" Malaysia whispered yelled.
Bruce blinked, caught off guard. "I... yes, actually. In the east wing. It's a full-size replica."
"Can I see it after dinner?" Stona asked eagerly.
"We all can," Vivica interjected smoothly. "Bruce has quite the collection of unique items."
"Bruce is a hoarder with expensive taste," Jason added, earning a surprised laugh from Corin.
Just like that, the ice was broken. Conversation began to flow more naturally, breaking into smaller groups as the meal progressed.
Dick and Malaysia discovered a shared interest in Gotham's legal system, though for very different professional reasons—her law studies and his work with the GCPD as a consultant (his cover for Nightwing activities).
"The problem with Gotham isn't just corruption," Malaysia was saying passionately. "It's systemic inequality. The legal system was designed to protect wealth and power, not serve justice."
Dick nodded, genuinely engaged. "I couldn't agree more. I've seen too many cases where money determined the outcome more than evidence."
"Exactly!" Malaysia leaned forward, her eyes lighting up. "That's why I'm focusing on public interest law. Someone needs to fight for those who can't afford high-priced defense attorneys."
"The city needs more lawyers like you," Dick said sincerely, and Vivica noticed the slight blush that colored Malaysia's cheeks at his praise.
Further down the table, Jason and Corin had fallen into a spirited debate about fighting techniques.
"Traditional boxing has its place," Jason was saying, gesturing with his fork, "but in a real street fight, you need to be adaptable."
"That's why I cross-train," Corin replied. "MMA, Krav Maga, even some capoeira for mobility."
Jason's eyebrows rose with genuine interest. "Capoeira? Impressive. Not many fighters appreciate its practical applications."
"Most fighters are too rigid in their thinking," Corin said with a dismissive wave. "They stick to what they know instead of evolving."
"I know a training gym in the East End that has some excellent mixed discipline classes," Jason offered. "If you're ever interested."
"I might be," Corin replied, her casual tone belied by the intensity of her gaze. "I have to teach throughout the week, but we'll see if I have time."
Tim and Alieza, meanwhile, had broken all pretense of general conversation and were huddled over Tim's phone, discussing something in rapid technical terms that made Bruce glance their way with mild concern.
"It's a modified encryption algorithm I've been working on," Tim was explaining. "The problem is balancing security with processing speed."
"Have you considered a quantum approach?" Alieza asked, taking the phone to study the code. "There's some promising research coming out of MIT on quantum-resistant cryptography."
Tim's eyes widened. "You follow quantum computing research?"
"Follow it? I'm contributing to it," Alieza said with quiet confidence. "I've got a paper being published next month on quantum key distribution in urban environments."
"That's... wow." Tim seemed genuinely impressed, a rare occurrence for the brilliant young man. "I'd love to read it when it's published."
"I could send you an advance copy," Alieza offered, a shy smile playing at her lips. "If you're interested."
"Definitely interested," Tim assured her, their eyes meeting with mutual appreciation.
At the far end of the table, Damian and Stona were engaged in a conversation that had started with art but somehow evolved into a detailed discussion of animal rights.
"Father allows me to maintain a menagerie," Damian was explaining, his usual haughtiness tempered by genuine enthusiasm. "I have several rescue animals, including a cow named Batcow."
"Batcow?" Stona repeated, delighted. "That's amazing. I've been trying to convince Mom to let me volunteer at the Gotham Wildlife Rehabilitation Center, but she says I need to focus on my studies."
"Education is important," Damian said seriously, "but so is practical experience. Perhaps if you presented a structured plan demonstrating how the volunteer work would enhance your studies..."
"That's... actually a really good idea," Stona said, looking at Damian with new respect. "You're really smart."
"of course! I'm not a child," Damian replied automatically, then added with grudging acknowledgment, "but you're more intelligent than I initially assumed."
Coming from Damian, this was high praise indeed.
Bruce and Vivian, witnessing these exchanges, shared a look of parental recognition.
"They seem to be getting along," Bruce observed quietly.
"So it appears," Vivian replied, her earlier skepticism softening. "Your boys are... not what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"Entitled trust fund children," she said frankly. "But they're thoughtful. Engaged. They actually listen when my girls speak, which is rarer than it should be."
Bruce nodded, understanding the compliment for what it was. "They've had unique upbringings. All of them have faced challenges that taught them the value of listening to different perspectives."
Vivian studied him for a moment. "Maybe you're not what I expected either, Bruce Wayne."
By the time dessert was served—Alfred's legendary chocolate soufflé—the initial awkwardness had completely dissolved. The conversation had become so lively that Alfred had to clear his throat twice to get everyone's attention for the dessert service.
As promised, after dinner Bruce led a tour of the manor's public areas, including the famous T-Rex replica that had so intrigued Stona. The group naturally splintered as they moved through the mansion, each pair drifting toward areas of mutual interest.
--
As the Haden family prepared to depart, private numbers were exchanged with promises to stay in touch during the week. Vivica watched with amusement as Dick gallantly helped Malaysia with her coat, as Jason and Corin exchanged what looked like a firm handshake but lingered a moment too long, as Tim awkwardly attempted to explain something technical to Alieza while she smiled patiently, and as Damian formally presented Stona with a small sketch he'd apparently made during their tour.
"This has been illuminating," Vivian murmured to Vivica as they watched the younger generation say their goodbyes. "Your message this morning makes more sense now."
"Message?" Bruce asked, overhearing.
Vivica smiled mysteriously. "Just girl talk."
Once the Hadens had departed, with arrangements made for the following weekend, the Wayne household seemed to exhale collectively. The boys dispersed to their usual evening activities—Dick to call Blüdhaven and check on his city, Jason to prepare for a late patrol, Tim to his computers, and Damian to complete his homework before his own patrol with Batman later.
Bruce and Vivica found themselves alone in the study, the evening's events settling around them like a comfortable blanket.
"That went well," Vivica observed, kicking off her heels and curling up on the leather sofa. "Better than I expected, honestly."
"Your plan to introduce the boys to suitable young women their own age?" Bruce asked, his tone mildly accusatory but his eyes amused.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Vivica replied innocently. "I simply wanted my best friend and her daughters to meet the man I love and his family."
Bruce sat beside her, pulling her feet into his lap with casual intimacy. "The boys seemed... affected by their visitors."
"I noticed," Vivica said, unable to hide her smile. "Jason was almost civil."
"Tim actually left his lab voluntarily."
"And Damian shared his artwork with a stranger. A miracle."
Bruce's hands began massaging her feet, his strong fingers working out the tension from hours in heels. "You're playing matchmaker."
"I'm expanding their social circle," Vivica corrected. "What happens next is entirely up to them."
"Mmm." Bruce didn't sound convinced. "And the remarkable coincidence that each Haden daughter happens to align perfectly with one of my sons in age, interests, and temperament?"
"The universe works in mysterious ways," Vivica said solemnly, then broke into laughter at Bruce's expression. "Okay, fine. I might have noticed some potential compatibility. But tonight exceeded even my expectations."
Bruce's hands moved from her feet to her calves, continuing their gentle massage. "Vivian approves of me now. Or at least, she's reserving judgment."
"High praise from Via, believe me." Vivica sighed contentedly as his strong hands worked their magic. "She's been my fiercest protector since we were children. Almost as intimidating as Alfred when she wants to be."
"I noticed," Bruce said dryly. "The 'I will end you' threat was particularly vivid."
"She means it, too."
"I don't doubt it." Bruce's expression grew more serious. "I'm glad you have her. Someone who looks out for you so fiercely."
Vivica reached for his hand, twining her fingers with his. "I have you for that now too, don't I?"
"Always," Bruce promised, raising their joined hands to kiss her knuckles. "Though I suspect our households are about to become much more intertwined than either of us anticipated."
As if to prove his point, Dick appeared in the doorway, attempting and failing to look casual. "So, uh, that Malaysia... she's studying corporate law, right? I was thinking I might ask her perspective on some Wayne Enterprises contracts."
"At ten o'clock on a Saturday night?" Bruce asked skeptically.
Dick shrugged, unembarrassed. "Legal emergencies don't keep business hours."
"Her number is in my phone," Vivica offered, fighting a smile. "But maybe wait until tomorrow to call? Professional courtesy."
"Right, tomorrow. Good idea." Dick nodded too enthusiastically before disappearing again.
Bruce and Vivica exchanged amused glances.
"One down, three to go," Vivica murmured.
Sure enough, within fifteen minutes, Tim had casually inquired about Alieza's publication schedule, Jason had mentioned offhandedly that he might check out the MMA gym where Corin trained, and even Damian had appeared to ask, with forced nonchalance, if Stona's artwork was featured in any currently running exhibitions he might evaluate "for technical proficiency."
By the time Bruce needed to prepare for his nightly patrol, all four Wayne boys had found transparent excuses to obtain more information about the Haden sisters.
"What have we started?" Bruce asked as he stood before the grandfather clock that concealed the entrance to the Batcave.
Vivica smiled, rising to straighten his collar before he changed into the Batsuit. "Something good, I think. Something normal alongside the extraordinary." She brushed a light kiss against his lips. "Be careful out there tonight."
"Always," he promised. "Don't wait up."
"I might," she countered. "I've grown fond of post-patrol debriefs."
Bruce's eyes darkened with appreciation. "In that case, I'll try to wrap things up early."
After he disappeared into the cave, Vivica made her way to the library, selecting a book before settling into a comfortable chair. The manor felt different now—warmer, more alive with possibility. The walls that had once separated Bruce's world from hers were thinning, allowing light to pass between them.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Vivian: *Whatever you're planning with these Wayne boys and my daughters, I'm onto you. If things go to shit imma beat yo ass!*
Vivica smiled and typed back: *No idea what you're talking about. But they'd make beautiful grandchildren, don't you think?*
Vivian's response was immediate: *You're terrible. See you next weekend. Bring the blue-eyed one who knew about Brandeis.*
As Vivica settled in to wait for Batman's return, she felt a deep contentment wash over her. Two families, each unusual in their own way, finding connection and possibly more. Bruce learning to balance his mission with moments of normalcy and joy. And herself, finally understanding that loving Bruce Wayne meant loving all of him—the billionaire, the vigilante, the father, the man—without requiring him to be only one of those things.
The night stretched before her, full of possibility, just like the future they were building together.