[Third Person's PoV]
Location: Wayne's Limousin
Date: March 1st
Ti: 7: 59 Am
Both Danny and Dick sat in the back of a sleek limousine, facing none other than billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne. The blurry figures of cars and traffic flickered past the tinted windows as the car glided smoothly through the streets.
Bruce turned to Danny, his gaze calm but calculating. "What excuse did you give your friends for missing school this week? You need to rember—being able to think on your feet and craft believable stories is an essential skill."
Danny waved him off, resting his head against the window with a faint frown. "I just told them the truth. That I'm fulfilling my duties as the ward of Bruce Wayne. Said I'm shadowing you to learn how to be an entrepreneur or whatever."
Bruce allowed himself a subtle smile. Danny's reluctance to lie to his friends—while inconvenient—was a trait he secretly respected. Not that he'd ever admit it.
"And you?" Bruce asked, shifting his attention to Dick, though he already expected the answer.
Dick leaned back, one leg crossed over the other. "I made sure my story matched Danny's. Don't worry. Besides, I'm honestly relieved to get a break from school. It's not the physical stuff—it's ntally draining."
Danny nodded in agreent. "Yeah, seriously."
Then he glanced toward Bruce, brow furrowed. "You never actually said where we're going. Just that we'd be gone a week and I should co up with a cover story."
Dick perked up too, curiosity piqued. It wasn't like Bruce to pull them away from Gotham without reason.
"We're going to Star City," Bruce said flatly.
Both boys blinked in surprise.
"Star City?" Danny echoed. "Why? Do you actually have business stuff to handle, or is this another one of those 'Bruce Wayne needs to be seen' things?"
Bruce's tone was even, but his gaze lingered on Danny longer than it had on Dick. "Yes and no. I do have etings to attend as Wayne Enterprises' CEO. But the real reason we're going… is for you."
Danny sat up straighter. "? Why?"
Bruce folded his hands. "Your powers are progressing fast. Too fast. Before you've even mastered your current abilities, new ones are erging. We're going to focus on the one you have the least control over. The one you've been calling… the Ghostly Wail."
Dick's eyes lit up with realization. "Black Canary. We're eting with her, aren't we?"
Bruce nodded once.
"She's perfect," Dick added, "She'll be a great teacher for Danny. Plus, I'll get to see Speedy—been a while since we've crossed paths."
"Hehehe…" Danny suddenly giggled, his tone weirdly mischievous. He hunched over and pulled out a notepad and pen from seemingly nowhere. "I'll finally get more autographs…"
Bruce and Dick just stared. Then glanced at each other, silently communicating with a single look that said: Should we be concerned?
Danny looked down at the notepad in his hands… then slowly held it out to Bruce, cheeks flushing pink. "Ugh. So. Uh. I… I never actually got your autograph. It'd an a lot."
Dick imdiately turned away, muffling a laugh. "Pfttt—right! I forgot you once said Batman was your favorite hero. Didn't you rank him #1 on that list you made?"
"Dude!" Danny shot him a glare. "He didn't need to know that!"
Dick stuck out his tongue playfully.
Bruce raised an eyebrow, amused. He accepted the notepad and pen with a faint smirk. "An honor to et such a dedicated fan. I'll make sure this autograph is worthy of my number one admirer."
"Ughhh!" Danny groaned, covering his face. "Forget you ever heard that! Dick's dyslexic, he doesn't even know what he hears half the ti!"
Dick blinked. "One, I'm not dyslexic! And two, even if I were—what does that have to do with hearing?!"
Bruce let out a small, rare chuckle.
At the front of the car, Alfred glanced up in the rear-view mirror. A soft smile touched his face as he observed the exchange.
'Young Master Daniel truly is a remarkable addition to this family,' Alfred mused. 'Exactly what each of them needed'
…
Location: Star City
Date: March 1st
Ti: 9: 03 Am
A sleek limousine pulled to a graceful stop in front of a towering hotel in Star City. The building oozed elegance and wealth, its glistening windows reflecting the golden hour light like a beacon for the rich and powerful.
Alfred, ever the embodint of poise, stepped out first and made his way to the rear door. With a practiced bow and subtle flourish, he opened it.
Bruce Wayne stepped out smoothly, leading the trio. One polished shoe touched the pavent before he rose to full height, adjusting his cufflinks with effortless charm. Caras imdiately began flashing, hungry to capture Gotham's billionaire playboy in the wild.
Right behind him ca Dick and Danny, both donning sleek black three-piece suits tailored to perfection. The mont Danny exited the vehicle, he flashed an exaggerated grin so wide and gleaming, it could've made All Might look subtle.
Dick imdiately jabbed an elbow into his side. "What the hell was that? You look like you're either selling toothpaste or fighting for your life on the toilet."
Danny, unbothered, kept the grin up a mont longer for the flashing caras. "Just giving them the full celebrity experience. You know, for PR."
"Yeah, well, dial it back before soone thinks you're malfunctioning," Dick muttered, rolling his eyes. "We seriously need to workshop your public image."
"Your face needs more work than my image," Danny shot back with a playful scoff, though his confident act faltered ever so slightly under the constant barrage of cara flashes and dia attention. His fingers subtly fidgeted at his sides. Being thrust into the spotlight like this wasn't sothing he was used to—not in either of his lives.
Fortunately, their ti outside was brief. Just enough for the press to snap a few pictures, confirm their presence, and make headlines.
Once inside, past the glinting marble floors and through the revolving doors, Danny leaned slightly toward Bruce and asked, "So what's the reason Bruce Wayne needs to make an appearance?"
Bruce didn't stop walking as he replied. "Wayne Enterprises and Queen Industries are finalizing a formal partnership. There's a major charity gala to cent the alliance. It's mostly for optics, but the cause is genuine—youth rehabilitation and community rebuilding. I don't mind showing my face for that."
As Bruce headed to finalize their hotel arrangents with the concierge, Danny leaned in toward Dick and whispered, "I'll bet you twenty bucks sothing insane happens at that gala."
Dick frowned. "Why do you say that? Did you pick up on sothing?"
Danny simply smirked. "Nope. Just playing the odds. It's too cliché not to happen."
Dick stared at him flatly. "Danny, this is real life, not a Saturday morning cartoon. Clichés don't just—"
"Sounding a lot like soone who's afraid to lose a bet…" Danny teased, raising a brow.
Dick narrowed his eyes. "You're on. If the event goes off without any explosions, kidnappings, or rooftop chase scenes, I win."
Danny extended his hand. "Shake on it?"
With a slight roll of his eyes, Dick shook his hand firmly. "Deal."
The wager was set.
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