Chapter Text
Working as Dick Grayson’s personal assistant, was somehow the most anticlimactic and bizarre thing that had ever happened in her life.
Mainly, because she had only seen the man a handful of times at best. Let’s backtrack a little, shall we?
When she had applied for the job, she had been utterly and completely desperate to get out of London. She would have done anything, taken any kind of job - hell, even being a supervillain had been on the table - so long as she could leave the city and her old life behind. For months she had scoured every job ad, every slim possibility of taking off that she could find; and she had done it all alone. Every time she tried to tell her parents and friends that she had been “encouraged” to quit her job, she felt the bile rising and she couldn’t get the words out. No, they could never know.
When she’d stumbled upon the ad, she’d been shocked, to say the least. It was on one of the worst websites for job searching - it probably hadn’t been updated since 2012 and was in dire need of a major makeover, as well as some bug fixing. But the ad was there, triumphant and gleaming, immediately standing out from the others.
Personal Assistant for Manager at Wayne Entreprises. The salary was outrageous, healthcare was included and paid in full, and the company even paid for the monthly rent. It seemed Bruce Wayne really knew how to take care of his employees.
It felt like a miracle, a sign of the universe that she was on the right track. Not only that, but it was in Gotham City, on the other side of the Atlantic and far away from the big mess that had become her life. It was perfect
She had sent in her resume within ten minutes of finding the ad, terrified that it would be gone before she could click “send”.
And then she had waited for a full week, nervous and desperate, praying to all and any gods that she would get it. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, ran around her apartment like a mad woman, and bit her nails until they bled. It had been 3 months since everything had happened, and she wouldn’t be able to cover everything up much longer.
On the eighth day, she decided she finally had enough. She pulled up the ad on her laptop, took a deep breath, and called the number that was listed.
The call only rang a couple of times before the person on the other line picked up, and she was surprised to hear an old, sweet British man reply. His name was Mr. Pennyworth, and he was the Wayne family’s personal butler, but he was in charge of finding someone to fill in the position. She had only been momentarily mortified that she’d bothered someone so high up, but that embarrassment had quickly been replaced by her determination to get the job.
Mr. Pennyworth instantly knew who she was. “Yes, Miss, I have indeed received your resume. It’s quite impressive, definitely the most qualified of the ones we received.”
“Really? Am I up for consideration then? For the position, I mean.”
“Miss,” Mr. Pennyworth had sounded apathetic, sorry even. “You’re probably our best candidate, but…”
“But?”
“You’re just… I fear you may be a little overqualified for this position, Miss.”
His words had stopped her dead in her tracks. Her voice was shaking when she finally managed to speak again. “Overqualified?”
“Miss, you have a Phd in Quantum physics, and you were a researcher at Oxford University up until recently… to be completely honest, I thought you sent us your resume by mistake when I received it.”
She could feel the anxiety rising. “Listen, I know this isn’t exactly my field but I am a fast learner and I am determined, and I can put my mind to anything, and really I-”
“You would be Mr. Grayson’s personal assistant, Miss. I’m just… I’m not entirely sure a person of your knowledge and studies would be right for this position.”
That was the last straw; as soon as the words left his mouth, she burst into tears and bawled her eyes out. She had proceeded to sob for the following ten minutes, babbling about how she had to leave and she would do anything and work any job, while poor Mr. Pennyworth tried to console the young woman.
No, it wasn’t her proudest moment. Not by far. But whatever she had said in her distraught state had worked, because Mr. Pennyworth had taken enough pity on her to offer her the spot.
She had agreed to be in Gotham City to start in two weeks and had gone to buy moving boxes as soon as the call ended. She spent the day packing, booked a one-way plane ticket, and then remembered she probably should have warned her parents.
That call was… less than fun. They were understandingly worried that their 26-year-old daughter had decided to quit her high-profile job at Oxford University and move across the Atlantic for no apparent reason. She had tried to tell them the truth a handful of times, but had eventually settled upon “I need a change of scenery and some time to clear up my mind”.
Her best friends, Cora and Ember, had also been worried and concerned, but had been nonetheless very supportive and had promised to visit soon.
And so that had been that.
Three days later, she was on a flight headed for Gotham City, full of hope and relief. She used the remaining ten days to find a quaint little apartment in the city center, close to the main headquarters of Wayne Entreprises, where she would be working.
When the first day of work arrived, she wore her nicest pantsuit and floral-printed blouse and headed out early. She stood outside the imposing building for a long time, looking up and admiring the modern glass empire. The W from the logo shone brightly in the early morning sun, and the streets buzzed with excitement as people walked in and out.
She breathed in. Then out. Then in and out again. This was a new beginning, one that was supposed to change her life around. There was no going back now. This would work, no matter what. She was confident and ready.
She walked into the building confidently, a serene smile on her face.
●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●
That smile and confidence vanished almost as soon as they appeared.
When she reached the floor where she would be working and was brought to her desk - right in front of Mr. Grayson’s office - she found a cardboard box on it, and a pretty red-haired girl bawling her eyes out as she filled it with her stuff. She looked up at her and her eyes instantly filled with anger. “So you’re the bitch they’re replacing me with then, huh?”
She had been, to say the least, flabbergasted, and had been unable to do anything except widen her eyes in shock.
The red-haired kept throwing her belongings in the box rather violently, babbling angrily. “You have no idea what you’re in for. The asshole is never here. It’s a fucking fake job. A dummy job. Like you see in the movies. He shows up once a month, you give him contracts to sign, and he’s fucking gone. He’s like a vampire.” She picked up the box and purposefully bumped into her on the way out. “Have fun doing shit nothing all day long. I lasted six months, maybe you’ll last longer.”
The whole office watched in horror as she strode out, red hair swinging back and forth with tears on her face. Then all heads turned to her, the newcomer, the usurper, still rooted into place. Her mouth was still gaping, trying to piece together the information that had just been thrown at her.
It took her multiple minutes to gather her senses and sit at her desk, eyes glaring at her from all over the office. She placed her purse on the floor, wishing she could bury herself into the depths of the earth and never come out again.
Everyone finally went back to work when a woman with a cheery disposition walked out of the elevator, entirely oblivious to what had just happened, and walked straight to her.
Her name was Jessica Hallard, and she was the manager of the unit. She quickly showed her around and told her what her tasks consisted of. Every morning, contracts would be dropped off on her desk. She had to organize them and prepare them so that Mr. Grayson could sign them when he came into the office - which was relatively rarely, according to her (and the redhead she’d apparently stolen the job of). The rest was up to Mr. Grayson.
She was surprised by the lack of work, and by the simplicity in which Jessica explained these things. She didn’t find it weird that she basically wouldn’t be doing anything all day except sorting contracts. No emails, no phone calls, nothing. Just… contracts.
Yeah, this did feel like a dummy job.
She didn’t dare say anything for a week. Every morning, she walked to her desk while most of the office glared at her (and the rest dutifully ignored her) and gathered the contracts that had piled up. There were normally two or three a day, and once she divided them, she was done for the day. Which was outrageous, truly. She tried helping other people, but they all looked at her reproachfully and declined her offers. She essentially sat at her desk all day, too scared to leave or do anything that could further worsen the office’s general opinion of her, waiting for some kind of miracle to happen.
She often heard the others planning after-work dinners and parties, but she was never invited to any of them. At first, she figured it was because she’d stolen the red-haired girl’s job. But as two weeks passed, she quickly realized that it didn’t matter at all. People hated her just because of the position she occupied, a dummy job for an absent manager, and honestly who could blame them?
At the beginning of her third week, she decided to approach Jessica about it. She was the only one who actually bothered to say hi to her and make some small talk.
When she asked why she was never invited to office outings, Jessica simply laughed.
“Oh, sweetie, don’t take it too personally. It’s just Mr. Grayson’s assistants never last.”
She blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Well, we all know it’s a cover-up for… whatever it is that you actually do.” Jessica winked, and her cheeks turned bright pink as she realized what she was implying. “You girls never last more than three months. Sarah, the girl before you, was actually an all-time record. Six months!”
“Wait, everyone thinks I’m sleeping with Mr. Grayson? I haven’t even seen the man yet!”
Jessica smirked and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, honey, we all need to do what’s necessary to get to the end of the month. Don’t fret it too much.”
The woman had then left, leaving the girl in a state of utter confusion.
So, not only this was a dummy job, but everybody also thought she was Mr. Grayson’s personal call girl. Ridiculous!
She started having second thoughts about everything. Maybe she shouldn’t have left London. She should have just signed that NDA, and done what they had asked of her. She should have never come. She was going to be laid off in a matter of weeks eventually, she should have known it was too good to be true. She spent the following week questioning every single decision she’d made in her life, wondering how everything had turned out to be such an utter and shitty mess. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been truly happy.
It was during her fourth week that she finally saw Dick Grayson for the first time.
The clock had just hit 11:00 AM, and she was trying to busy herself as best she could after finding no contracts on her desk that morning when the man confidently strode in.
There was no denying he was handsome. She had seen an interview he had done for Vogue, and yeah, her boss was a catch. Soon to be 29 years old, young, charismatic, two dimples that girls would kill for… yeah, she understood the appeal alright.
He was wearing a simple shirt and jeans, and a huge smile on his face as he strode between desks and said hi to everyone. Nobody glared at him, because how could they when he was this charming and when his blue eyes were smiling right back at you? He strode right past her desk, giving her a small “good morning”, and headed into his office, closing the door behind him. She had never even known that door was unlocked. Nobody ever went into the room.
She saw Jessica shaking her head at her, urging her to bring the contracts to him. She bolted as soon as she saw the sign, gathering the 18 contracts that had piled up during the past weeks, and softly knocked at his door.
She heard a smooth “Come in!”, and proceeded to walk into the office.
It looked like any ordinary office, albeit perhaps suspiciously tidy due to Mr. Grayson’s constant absence. The man was sitting at the desk, pouring over some documents and seemingly very focused on the task. He didn’t even look up when she walked in, nervously clutching the contracts.
She waited a few beats before finally speaking up. “Mr. Grayson, here are the contracts that-”
“You can leave them on my desk, thank you.”
The words died in her throat. Well. So much for small talk. She thought she’d have to at the very least introduce herself, and explain what had happened to Sarah. But the man seemed absolutely unbothered and uninterested.
She sighed, took a few steps toward the desk to drop off the contracts, and stepped back. His eyes didn’t look up from the documents in his hand, and his face was now pulled into a soft frown.
Oh well. So this was not going the way she’d imagined.
She slowly crept out of the office, mumbling a small “If that’s all” that was met by utter silence, and went back to her desk. She could feel all of the office glaring at her, and it made her want to cry. They probably thought she’d done god knows what in his office, when in reality he most likely didn’t even know her name.
Dick Grayson left a few hours later, while she was on lunch break. She found the pile of contracts on her desk, now signed and ready to be mailed out. The task took her approximately an hour, and then she was back to her usual lack of activity.
At the end of the week, she decided she needed to shed light on this and decided to call Mr. Pennyworth.
“Ah, Miss! Yes, of course, I remember you!” His warm voice had been a source of comfort after a month of being ignored, judged, and glared at. “I was planning on calling you. How has work been?”
“Mr. Pennyworth, I’m going to be straight with you. Is this a dummy job?”
The line had gone silent, and she’d started to worry that she’d officially blown things up when the old man suddenly burst out laughing. He’d continued to laugh and giggle for five minutes, and she hadn’t been able to add anything else. Her mortification only grew the longer he kept laughing.
Eventually, he managed to calm down. “I apologize, it’s just… nobody ever actually outright says it.”
“What?”
“As you can imagine, you’re not the first person we hire for the position. I assume you met Sarah?”
She cringed. Had the old man fired her the same day she’d arrived? For what, chaos? Maybe he wasn’t as sweet and gentle as she thought he was. “Yes…”
“Well, nobody ever has the courage to say it’s a dummy job. We dance around the subject, and then eventually we have to let them go after a few months.”
She felt her stomach hollow out. “Am I being let go soon too, then?”
“No, of course not. You’re the first person I hired because I actually like you. And believe in you. The position is yours as long as you want it. We will not fire you, you have my word.”
The words slightly reassured her, and after a few more minutes of small talk, they finally ended the call.
Well then. She was stuck in a dummy job and everybody at the office thought she was a call girl, but at least she was paid, had a roof over her head, and was far from London. That was at the very least a partial win.
Alfred had assured her she could stay as long as she wanted. As long as she needed to figure things out was the implicit message, and she briefly wondered if he had done some background checks on her. He probably had. He probably knew.
She tried not to think too much about it. This was supposed to be a new beginning. And she was going to make the most of it.