Chapter Text
Tim is, dare he admit it, proud of himself; of having perfected smalltalk. Not just talking, but body language too. One is nothing without the other. A perfect mix of an here and there arched eyebrow, a slight tilt of his head as a sign of intrigue, a bit of humming to show he cared, and oh, all those micro expressions…
How some people enjoy this level of political business warfare, he will never know. But, it is something he is good at. So here he is.
Apart from the monthly draw of "who has to attend the next gala as a representative of the Wayne Family", everyone has come to the unanimous result, that regardless of outcome, he should be there anyway.
Apparently, the higher circles know that Dick has not much say about any decisions about the company and is more known for his knowledge for trivial things, as well as a representative for the police force; so he is at best a 50/50 kind of attendee at galas - since Gotham loves him nevertheless.
Jason is included in the vote but gets zero points every time - since he prefers to take over a lot of undercover operations at the moment and has too many bad childhood memories about adults condescendingly talking about him and his Crime Alley heritage behind his back… better to say it has left behind a more negative aftertaste than he likes to admit.
Damian is currently on thin ice since his scary chihuahua phase, which has endeared him to many Gotham elites, has come to an end. With him slowly growing up (age wise and in the height department) he can’t allow himself to glare at and or stab people if they annoy him anymore - so really, it is more of a blessing than a curse, for the teen to be excused more often than not. But, Tim has to hand it to him though, the last time Damian has at least abstained from grabbing a makeshift weapon from the refreshment bar.
Not to mention, that Bruce’s way, of averting any possible connection to Batman, is to behave not even near a possible level of acceptable behavior from start to finish at a gala - the less said about that the better.
… that left Tim. Because, who else? Everyone is far too happy to skip an event, patting him on the back saying, "you’ll be doing a better job than us anyways"… Hindsight is 20/20. Tim has already lost way far back, when he was still a child taking pictures of Batman and Robin on rooftops… Damn it! That is what he gets for trying to please parents who wanted a little prince; with all the manners but no emotional connections.
His unconscious persona for official social events has been set in stone before Jason died the first time.
Now, he is here, doing his job. Greet a business partner. Compliment shiny earrings that blend in perfectly with the outfit from this years collection of prominent designer. Joking about the annual profit, promising a possible new contract - has he been through enough people yet? No he can see people eyeing him from the side, waiting for a chance to speak with him.
Where is Bruce again?
A loud, dramatic crash can be heard from behind him, followed with a loud laugh from Bruce.
Tim doesn’t suppress a twitch of his facial muscles, to show his "annoyance" of his father figure. Of course, someone must have spiked the drink fountain again. A classic "Brucie Move": tripping in such a catastrophic way, that one destroys the danger source, while still keeping their identity hidden. Tim glances at his watch, where a subtle "Code 2476" flashes across the screen - "Contaminated Substance; further consumption and escalation avoided; proceed; no further help required".
Tim turns his upper body slightly away from the ruckus, signaling his company to continue their conversation - they follow suit. As expected.
-
"There you are! I’ve looked all over for you!" Tim exclaims and touches the shoulder of a young man appearing his age, who doesn’t even jump at the sudden interruption in his personal bubble, "My apologies for cutting in, Ms. Hazel", Tim reaches over with his other hand and greets the older woman with a galant bow, "I must say, I’ve searched the last hour for Danny here - my deepest gratitude for looking after him while I have been otherwise occupied."
Ms. Hazel, obviously a little bit flustered with the sudden interruption, but trying not to show it, replies with an amused, "You don’t have to worry about a thing, Timothy! Mr. Masters has been excellent company during your absence," she winks for good measure, "Oh my goodness, is that-?" She must have recognized someone behind them, "If you would excuse me, it was lovely to meet you, dearest."
The two look after her for a moment before Mr. Masters releases a puff of air, tension draining out of him in seconds, "Oh my god, thank you! My personal knight in shining armor! I owe you, so. Much." The man runs a hand through his kind of windswept hair, "I just wanted to get something to eat. These people are vultures, I swear - and nobody helped me! She talked about her niece and how that girl is single, and honestly; first of all why is your aunt trying to find a partner at a political, social event, and second why is that woman searching for her teenage daughter someone clearly older than her - I do look as if I already have my college degree, right? Right?!" Mr. Masters voice got slightly panicked at the end, while his hands playing with his tie.
"I don’t want to go to prison! Wait- was that on purpose? Are they searching for potential pedophiles at these Galas? Is there a quota? Was that the reason why nobody helped me? Was that a test? Nobody tells me anything!"
Tim can’t decide if he wants to laugh or show concern for the guy - his professional persona slipping slightly - that guy was hilarious. "You know - even if it was a test; you’ve passed it with flying colors", he smirks "Anyone who survives more than twenty minutes talking to that woman wins charisma points… there might be a tally somewhere online-", Tim muses while he eyes potential eavesdroppers, but doesn’t find any - the social bubble of Ms. Hazels "presence repellent" remained clear even moments after her departing - eye contact is an easy way to get caught by her.
"I couldn’t resist helping you out with you silently screaming for help", Tim laughs, remembering the change of expressions from "interesting topic of conversation" to "help me, please, anyone" to "I don’t know how to say no without probably causing a social disaster".
"I do apologize for lying about knowing each other, but I figured it was the fastest way out… I will remember to cash in that favor, if that woman should catch me later on, just so you know-" Tim cuts himself of, when he notices Mr. Masters staring at him. He raises a questioning eyebrow, encouraging Danny to announce the sudden epiphany that he obviously just had.
Mr. Masters doesn’t disappoint.
"Oh wow, you’re hot."
Tim blinks at that. He is honestly a bit taken aback, but before he can give an answer to that statement, Mr. Masters shrinks back. Shocked from his outburst?
"Haha, yeah, no, I did not just say that out loud, right?"
Tim blinks again.
"Oh god, I did! You were really cool, cutting in the conversation like it was nothing and I couldn’t look you in the eye, you make me really nervous, but then you laughed and - you have a really nice smile, you know?" Mr. Masters- no, -Danny, looks up at the ceiling, and then to the ground, as if a dark hole could open up and rescue him from the situation. "Shit, I don’t even know your name…" and then he stops talking - is he waiting to- what? To get scolded?
And Tim-
Tim is-
Tim is totally smitten with that charming wreck of a person! How many blunders has Danny committed these past hours? Or has he been almost silent these entire evening?
Tim holds out his hand, "It’s Tim," he smirks, "how have you survived until now?"
Danny stares at his hand for a moment, before carefully grabbing and shaking it (a firm but gentle grip, Tim notices), "I don’t know".
Tim doesn’t let go, and takes a step closer - he lays his other hand on Danny’s shoulder to stabilize (- to prevent a stumble in case Danny will take a step back) and has to stretch a bit to whisper into Danny’s ear-
"Well, lucky you, you now have me", Tim just barely refrains from nipping at Danny’s ear (the reaction would no doubt be entertaining at the very least, but oh, so rewarding at best), "so stay close to me."
And Danny’s eyes, when he steps back, sparkle.
-
It is dangerous, walking around with Danny by his side. Those open eyes tracking his movements, his expressions; clearly paying attention to Tim’s words when he outsmarts another shareholder… it is a heady feeling. He feels elated just having Danny listening, acknowledging his hard earned persona…
Tim’s parents took him for granted, his family and sibling are just glad he is better at this than they are, his girlfriends found him funny or over the top, or unnecessarily overconfident or fake but Danny - the man is in awe of Tim’s… everything?
To be recognized not only for his looks but his carefully crafted attitude too?
Danny will not leave his sight anytime soon. Tim will make sure of that.