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It was Monday and that was already bad enough but noooooo, the universe just had to have it out for Tim. Because standing in the waiting room were the fucking Waynes. Of course only Bruce has met him as Tim Drake, but every one of the bats has met either Alvin Draper or Caroline Hill. And now those bats were at his office.
Chugging half of the 4th cup of coffee he had gotten this morning, Tim made his way towards his doom. Passing by Tam Fox, the daughter of Lucius Fox who was currently interning, trying to hold in laughs by clinging to her desk. "I would feel bad, but this is going to be hilarious."
"You're a traitor. You know that right? How did they even get in without me knowing? I literally put in protocols so I wouldn't have to deal with them."
"I maybe may have overridden them. I once saw you talk down Lex Luthor, and given your grudge against the Waynes, this is going to be ten times better."
"I don't have a grudge against-" A raised eyebrow was sent his way, "Okay maybe I have a small grudge, but It's it perfectly justified. They're all idiots. Not only does Bruce keep up the 'Brucie' act around anyone important for this fucking business, Batman keeps shoving working on me because he got injured doing his absolutely idiotic coping method that he passed on to his kids."
"Exactly. Now go in there and make me laugh." With her unnatural strength- no he wasn't super light she was just really strong shut up- she pushed him though the glass doors.
"Ah! Timmy, how nice to see you again! I was beginning to think you wouldn't sh-"
"Sir with absolutely no respect I am this close, so I recommend you lose the Brucie act, sit your behind down in that chair and attend your two hour R&D meeting without causing another scandal or having a single board member come up to me to complain unless you want me to go to the Batcave and replace your Batsuit with a fried egg colored one."
Bruce looked taken back, his playboy mask gone, and in his shock had fallen into the chair that Tim was pointing to.
"Father, how dare you let an imbecile order you like this-"
Bending down, despite only being an inch taller, Tim looked Damian in the eye, allowing him to see how many fucks he gave. Which was zero. "Bold of you to assume I don't also have a neon orange Robin suit. Now either sit your ass down, or go get me coffee, because I definitely haven't had enough caffeine to deal with you Waynes."
Damian sat.
"Are we not going to talk about the identity breach? He could be a threat-"
"Oh Dick, that's cute coming from you, especially since you're the one that gave it away. The quadruple somersault isn't really subtle. I would threaten your costume too, but after the Discowing I'm 80% you would enjoy anything, so either you sit down, or I tell the Cicatrices that you plan on attending their gala next month."
Dick also sat, eyes widened in fear.
Mr. and Mrs. Cicatrice weren't too bad, but their kids were like little devils. We don’t talk about the Chewbacca incident.
Extending his hand out to the only one he hadn't verbal beatdown, yet had definitely terrified, Tim introduced himself, "Timothy Jackson Drake, Bruce's personal assistant, a.k.a I run this entire company along with Lucius Fox. Nice to meet you Jason Todd."
Jason blinked. And blinked again. Finally after a minute he shook the hand stretched out in front of him, before discretely sliding out of the room. Calling out behind him Tim said, “When you pass by the scary woman at the desk tell her she owes me three bags of marshmallows!”
