Chapter Text
The Wayne Industry flourished under its CEO, Timothy Drake-Wayne.
They had turned into a home brand that Gotham was synonyms to Wayne Family. From toilet paper to energy provider, Wayne Industry covered all daily necessities to a T. Some jealous competitors might accuse WE with an unhealthy, unlawful monopoly. But in all actuality, WE was fair and adhered to the law, so their accusations held no ground in court.
Because of their reputation of reliability and secrecy, WE has several contracts with secret government and spies agencies alike. Each of those agencies have their own personal person of contact for daily communication and orders, however some very ultra special secret agencies such as the Kingsman or S.H.I.E.L.D were sometimes handled by the CEO himself. Aside from the high quality service WE provided, all of their leaders were secretly in awe for one Timothy Drake-Wayne for his (secret) reputation amongst the agencies as the cold-hearted genius businessman.
Even before the Princess debacle, his famed reputation went like this: When he stared at you, you’d feel like facing your strict mother in law, who would swipe their finger on the surfaces for dust. When he stared at you, you’d feel small and wondered whether you had cleaned up properly that day, have you fastened all your buttons? When he spoke to you, you’d feel like you were a small fry again, back in the bottom of the military pyramid and your General was asking you questions. When he addressed you, you’d feel the urge to instinctively stand straight and called out, “Sir, yes Sir!”. When he approved of you, you’d feel like you have been blessed with approval from The Bigger Power from Above ™ and could die on the spot with no regret.
(Tim wondered where he got that reputation from. Every Time he visited the compound of any secret agencies in his jurisdiction, he felt like an inspecting Internal Audit executive. All the guards stood straight as an arrow. Everything was meticulously cleaned and in their proper way. When Tim tried to strike a light conversation, they all flushed red or paled into paper-white. Their leaders were strangely friendly--even though many of them had public reputation as an asshole or strict BAMF. Some of them even pulled Tim’s chair for him. Curious. But he knew his brothers might be one of the reasons).
After the Princess debacle? Tim wanted to shoot himself in the foot for ever suggesting the idea in the first place. The leaders were fine, because they already could see Tim’s own badassery and wouldn’t be fooled by the rumors on Wayne Princess. But the organisations itself were a different matter. They started to see him like an Idol like persona. Beautiful but deadly. Multi-talented and mesmerizing. Even some of the heroes bought into the rumors. They viewed him as a delicate, exotic rose scented time bomb.
Case in point: Tim was visiting S.H.I.E.L.D to discuss the annual contract between WE and S.H.I.E.L.D. It was one of the most important contracts both for the revenue as well as reputation. Serving S.H.I.E.L.D was the pinnacle of reputation for a service management company in the Good Old US of A. Tim liked Nick Fury well enough, the man was a no-nonsense BAMF in a literal sense. Aside from sharing similar values on responsibility and secrecy, his sense of humor matched Tim’s sarcasm very well. He also liked Phil Coulson, Nick’s right hand man and the embodiment of S.H.I.E.L.D herself. (Tim secretly disliked how Phil always tried to cover up when he was injured, though. He chastised the man multiple times every time he saw it happened (which basically every time Tim visited S.H.I.E.L.D helicarriers). )
Dick was the one who usually accompanied him to these meetings, as he was the one with (most free time and) proper permission from Bruce to drive the Wayne private plane (this plane was different from the Batplane, because this one was purely a private jet to keep up with Wayne public appearance. So no, Jason, you cannot use it to have wild parties with Roy and the Outlaws ). And this time, Dick couldn't stop laughing the way home back to Gotham.
Tim was mortified, holding on to his last shred of dignity.
Captain America thought he was a young, high class, prostitute .*
And upon finding that his conjecture was wrong, the poor American Hero acted chastised like a little choir boy and assisted Tim like he was a delicate, fragile Princess. Which made it more humiliating because Steve Rogers was nothing short of 100% sincerity . He sincerely believed Tim as a sickly, fragile little princess who needed to be princess-carried around the helicarriers .
Dick cooed at Tim the whole way back, praising Tim’s internal Princess pheromones which made every single hero want to carry him like he was a light, precious doll.
Ugh. Excuse you? Tim was the badass Red Robin and he weighed a respectable amount of muscle mass!
Another case in point was when Tim brought Jason and Alfred to visit the Kingsman HQ in London. He brought Alfred with him because he wanted Alfred to have a small holiday back in his homeland. But apparently he hit off so nicely with Merlin. They ended up discussing the merit of tea drinking and the art of firearms over Earl Grey and jam-filled scones. Tim didn’t have the heart to stop the conversation, so he proceeded to the meeting with Jason in tow.
It proved to be the worst kind of idea. In the middle of the meeting with Arthur and Galahad upon microchip and paper supply, a compact young man suddenly burst into the room and called out Galahad’s name. Tim pretended he didn’t know that and kept his business cool face. But Jason, who up until that point was sleeping on the chair beside Tim (because negotiation on embossed high quality 4 sheets Kingsman’s quality standard toilet paper was boring), immediately shot up and brandished his M1911 pistols, while covering Tim’s body with his own.
A small fight happened between Jason and the young man who called himself Eggsy. Tim sighed and continued to discuss with Arthur, while Galahad finally relented and stopped the fight (because pulling out bullets from the wall was just troublesome). The fight sparked camaraderie between Jason and Eggsy, especially when Eggsy (very) interestedly asked who’s the ‘chick in man clothes’ beside Jason.
Tim’s eyes twitched hard and he stomped onto Jason's feet as his older brother laughed out loud. Jason’s “eep!” was loud enough for all the room occupants to hear. That made Eggsy look even more starry eyed at Tim.
“You are one beasty lady, arent’ cha, princess?”
Galahad closed the meeting with promises to educate Eggsy better. Tim kept his polite smile and told him it was all under the water. Smitten Eggsy followed them around, refusing to leave the “Chung** princess” and determined to give Tim a “tour” of the mansion. Jason, true to his chaos-maker nature, decided to imitate Dick and chastised Tim for standing too long on his feet and carried Tim like a Princess for the rest of the visit. By the end of their visit, Eggsy was convinced Timothy was a fragile princess of pedigree who was simultaneously the head of a big corporation, but with a weak body so he needed to be treated like a withered lily of the valley.
Tim was inconsolable in the plane ride back home (Alfred piloted while Jason stayed at the back acting as the stewardess), so he snitched how Jason bullied him to Alfred. Alfred scolded Jason politely, while Tim grinned behind their grandfather-slash-butler’s back.
Luthor corps was another story. Tim was forced to attend the meeting because their contract said so . Luthor gleefully made any sort of purchasing or collaboration just to torture Tim with questions, like:
“When are you going to ditch that mid-life crisis mess and join me to bring glory to our empire?”
Or
“When are you going to marry my son? I already booked the place and tested the wedding cakes.”
Tim could only grit his teeth and hoped his enamels could take it. Luthor always made their meetings in his own penthouse, at the top of Luthor Tower in Metropolis. Usually, Superman peeked in, pretending to check up on Luthor for any potential evil doings, but this time, it was Kon who came in his tight T-shirt and tighter pants.
“Tim! Finally!” he flew inside, one of the glass walls opened up after confirming it was Kon. “I cannot see you without your dad or siblings threatening to reduce me to a flobberworm!”
Tim realised (too late) that maybe Lex Luthor actually loved his son enough to make a million dollar contract upon normal customer service help, just to allow his son to meet him without the Bats’ interference. Tim nodded in thanks towards Luthor, who smiled smugly and went to leave Kon and Tim in the room.
(Tim wasn’t naive though. He knew there would be some cameras in the room, to keep an eye on them as well as taking footage that could be used to Lex’s usual schemes).
But Kon was there, and he was very happy, with his wide grin and sparkly eyes and Tim was very weak to those and so he sat on Kon’s lap and fed him sausages while they played Mario Kart. They had a short nap too, which ended when someone pinched their noses. Cass was smiling at them, but she pointed at Tim’s phone.
“Daddy’s worry. Need to go.”
Kon pouted but let Tim go. Tim thanked his sister for fetching him. He loved his sister the best, because she was subtler in her mocking and genuinely loved Tim.
Alas, the footage was released the next day--boosting Luthor’s stock with the return of Timothy Drake-Wayne engagement with Conner Luthor. Tim was forbidden from meeting Lex ever again, and Bruce paid the hefty sum to alter the contracts’ specification on Tim’s attendance in those collaborations meetings. He filled in Damian’s name in the contract instead, and the little baby assassin managed to cower Luthor from making another contract, after their first meeting together.
Tim saw the proposal on his table the first thing on Monday morning and sighed. Ra’s sent his (weekly, at this point) proposal to have WE supply the League, this time to supply fresh flowers to the League’s bases. He was ready to pay WE with a hundred million dollars for a three months contract, so of course Tim was the only one in WE (aside from Bruce) who decided on such a high value contract. Tim’s eyebrows twitched when the contract also mentioned Tim’s required attendance in the weekly meeting with Ra’s, preferably in ‘flower girl outfit’.
Tim took the proposal and dumped it inside the “not important, see later or burn” box beside his trash can.
What has his life become?