Chapter Text
Rodney looks up from his phone as he hears the door open. “Welcome to Batburger, can I take your bat ord--” then he sees who he’s talking to: black hair, bright blue eyes, and a carefree smirk that can only be worn by somebody not from the shitty side of town… is that a Wayne?
Now, Rodney isn’t a fan of the Waynes -- he’s not a fan of any billionaire, thank you very much -- but, unlike most of his friends, he doesn't make an exception for Gotham’s prince either. He doesn’t follow the news about the latest Wayne products, scandals, or kids. But, try as he might, he is still very much aware of all three. Including the man’s habit of adopting any child that looks even vaguely like him.
Of course, that doesn’t mean that every black haired, blue eyed boy in the city is adopted by Bruce Wayne… just most of them. Possibly this one. You never know.
Pending evidence that this is a Wayne child: the Waynes are well-known for taking trips to BatBurger -- it’s their borderline endorsement of the place that really cemented it's legitimacy in the city. The BatBurger employee handbook has a whole section on how to be extra-welcoming to that family in particular… and also, to disregard any attempts they make at convincing you that Bruce Wayne is Batman’s sugar daddy.
“... My bat order? Do they really make you say that?” The possibly new Wayne kid says in a midwestern accent. “Man, that’s gotta suck, I’m so sorry.”
Rodney stifles a sigh and adjusts the cheap cloak he’s wearing. “We at BatBurger are happy to create a fun and family-friendly atmosphere for all bat occasions.” He recites in the most energetic voice he can manage. It comes out a half-step above completely monotone.
“Ancients, man, I had no idea it was so bad.” Then the kid dropped a $20 bill in the tip jar. Before he even ordered anything. Definitely a Wayne. “Can I have the Signal Special?”
“Sure thing, dude. Sir.” He quickly corrects himself. Gotta follow the handbook.
Teen Wayne gives him an odd look, but doesn’t say anything more as he goes to wait for his order to be ready.
Rodney kicks that order up to the front of the queue, as per the handbook.
-o0o-
“I’m so sorry for the inconvenience!” Josephine watches as her manager damn-near bowed in half while apologizing to whoever is in room 507.
“It’s fine, it’s fine! My fault for having weird tech.” A young voice apologizes back. Josephine watches as the guest reaches out of their room and attempts to lift Mr. Thompkins out of his bow.
“Not at all, sir! We will find a way to connect you to our WiFi immediately, and refund your bill for it.”
Josephine rolls her cart past the room, and glances inside, curious about what the problem is. What she sees is some kid wearing a comfortable-looking hoodie and jeans in one of their biggest rooms. She wonders how he was even allowed to walk into the building in that outfit, and what Mr. Thompkins was freaking out over. He only ever comes out to address big-name guests.
“I, I don’t think you’ll be able to. I’ve tried all morning to hook my phone up, just having the WiFi knocked off the bill is good enough. I can go without it for the weekend.”
Josephine felt her eyebrows raise. Somebody wanting to “go without” in the Kane Hotel was an insult to the brand. Mr. Thompkins nearly gave himself whiplash from how quickly he straightened.
“Not at all! We will remedy this problem immediately!” He declared, much to the guest’s dismay. “What model is your phone?”
The teen shifts awkwardly, and Josephine idly thinks that he must be new to his money. Nobody that’s used to being rich has that sort of body language. Maybe he won some sort of sweepstake to get a room here?
“It’s not on the market. Really, nevermind about connecting to it, I should’ve brought a different phone, I’m just used to having it at home. Don’t worry about it, really.” He rambles.
Well, forget about the sweepstake idea. If he’s got tech that’s new enough to still be off the market, then he’s a rich kid through-and-through. Maybe just one that was kept out of the spotlight?
In her musings, Josephine had completely zoned out of their conversation. She snaps back into it as the door to room 507 closes, and Mr. Thompkins catches her by the elbow.
“Josephine, have the wait staff send an apology basket to the young sir in room 507. Do not have it addressed to anyone, he is staying anonymously.” Then he was off, muttering something about “Bruce Wayne littering his kids everywhere,” and probably preparing to address another VIP somewhere.
Who was that kid?
-o0o-
“And to your right you’ll see Gotham City Bank, which has not been robbed for 47 days.” Rebecca says with faux pride into her mic. She’s giving yet another guided bus tour of the city, and despite her best efforts, her attention is again being pulled away from her script.
In the front row sits a cute boy. Granted, Rebecca has seen many cute boys doing these sorts of gigs, but this boy in particular was entirely her type. Who doesn’t like blue eyes, after all?
He looked so smart, too: most tourists only paid half-attention during these things (which begs the question of why they would spend money on it in the first place) but Mr. Blue Eyes was paying rapt attention to the spots that Rebecca pointed out. He sometimes asked questions, and never once was it about something that she had already explained to the group. Ah, the wonders of paying attention!
There was one noticeable occasion where she mentioned the new evacuation routes for Gotham University -- as created after funding from a special charity gala -- when the boy had muttered something about how he “would’ve done it differently.”
Done what differently? The evacuation routes? The charity gala? Is he rich??
As she rattles off a few more statistics, she once again finds herself glancing at Cute Boy, and stutters over her words when he smiles at her. God, he could just about compare to the Wayne boys with that face. Almost enough to make her forget about her celebrity crush on Tim Drake-Wayne.
Wait… what were the chances that this boy could be in Gotham and not be connected to the Waynes in some way? She heard a theory that Mr. Wayne has some sort of agreement set up with the city that notifies him whenever there’s a new kid up for adoption, so it’s entirely possible.
More importantly than any of that… What are the rules on asking for phone numbers during work hours again??
-o0o-
Vicki Vale, after three days of hearing rumors around town about a new Wayne boy, finally finds him. He’s just exiting the Kane Hotel (as she already knew he was staying there) when she catches up to him.
Idly, she notices that he did have the look of a Wayne -- blue eyes, black hair, clear skin and an easy smile would fit right in with all but the youngest one. The only thing out of order was the cheap clothes and the taxi that he was loading his bags into. Everything was just as Vicki had been led to believe: either a rich kid trying to fly under the radar, or a middle class kid who was friends with someone rich enough to set him up at Kane Hotel. Either way, there was a small chance he had something to do with the Waynes, and a small chance is all Vickie needed to start her article.
“Excuse me!” Vicki shouts, before he could climb into the back seat. She hurries up to him. “Excuse me, could I get a word before you go?” She asks breathlessly.
The boy points at himself, a dopey look on his face. Oh boy, he’ll be eaten alive. “Me?” he asks, as if he weren’t the only one around right now.
“Yes, you. My name is Vicki Vale, photojournalist for Gotham Gazette, do you have a minute, Mr…?”
“Danny,” he supplies, automatically. She watches as the boy turns to check on the driver, clearly trying to decide if he did, in fact, have a minute. Clearly, he’s never been interviewed before.
“Great,” she says before he could come to a decision. Never show weakness in this field, kid . “How has your visit to Gotham been so far?”
“Uh, fine? Everyone’s been surprisingly nice, despite it being… Gotham. Sorry, why are you interviewing me?”
Vicki pastes a sly smile onto her face; time to see if she can turn this conversation towards his very expensive accommodations during his stay, and how they might be connected to Bruce. “Oh, well, it’s not everyday somebody can rent a room in the Kane Hotel… anonymously at that, too! It’s caused quite the stir…”
The kid took on an aggrieved expression, clearly not liking the idea of any attention coming to his living arrangements. Fantastic.
“Tell me, how has your stay been? Everybody always wants to know how the rich live, do the luxuries live up to the brand’s reputation?”
“Wait, hold on, I’m not rich.” The boy waves his hands around frantically. “The room was paid for by a family friend, I swear.”
Oh, she could spin that into an admission of knowing Bruce Wayne, she was sure. Just ask a few hypothetical questions about who this mysterious contact could be, and let the public draw their own conclusions. All without running the risk of libel, too!
“And, I guess,” Danny continues, “the luxuries are kind of… overwhelming? I’ve been here for a week, and I don’t think I was able to get through even half of the hotel’s amenities.”
Right then, Vicki decides on her angle. The boy is another stray; a new Cinderella Story in the making. Doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not, everybody loves that sort of wish fulfillment story.
She smiles warmly at him, and nods her head in understanding. “Not used to having it all at your fingertips yet?”
“No,” he laughs, “and I’m not going to get used to it. Next time I come here, I’ll stay somewhere a bit more lowkey.”
“Planning on coming back to Gotham then? Did the city charm you that much?”
Just then, the taxi driver honked their horn, and Danny jumped.
“Aw man, hold on, sorry,” his midwestern accent coming in stronger as he apologizes. Vicki would certainly be playing up his small-town vibes in her article. It’s a refreshing diversion from Bruce’s usual habit of picking up Gothamites.
He quickly looks back up at her as he climbs into the backseat and situates himself to go. “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely be back. This has been the most relaxing week I've had in years!” And then he was off.
Most relaxing week, Vicki thought to herself grimly as the smile fell from her lips. Really, the rich live in a separate world.
-o0o-
like, y’know, nyavi @wanderNavi
Anyone read that article by @VickiVale about the new Wayne kid, Danny? Seems like a stretch to me, but what else is new with her? #clickbait
80 replies | 21 retweets | 112 likes
TriFox @foxears
Replying to @wanderNavi
I saw him at a starbucks the other day, so I want it to be real. Probably the closest I’ll get to a celebrity sighting out in the wild 😭 #LetDannyBeReal2020
16 replies | 11 retweets | 164 likes
Pineapple Time @pineaples26
Replying to @foxears
@foxears it’s not 2020 why are you like this
1 reply | 3 retweets | 6 likes
TriFox @foxears
Replying to @pineaples26
It’s the vibe.
0 replies | 2 retweets | 7 likes
-o0o-
Ghostbusters 👻
[Punching Bag] Sam, don’t ever let me let you pick my hotel room again.
[Ivy Jr.] lmao
[Too Fine] What’d she do?
[Punching Bag] Set me up at the flippin Ritz Carlton or something
[Punching Bag] I was accosted on the street!
[Too Fine] lmao