Chapter Text
Tim took a long sip of his coffee, it was way too bitter and he could practically feel the loose grounds on his tongue. It was- disgusting.
Normally he wouldn't be so picky- but the Sleepy Kitten had ruined his ability to suffer through with sh*tty coffee.
But of course he hadn't had the chance to stop by in a few days, not enough time to swap looks and Timothy couldn't be spotted dead anywhere near the narrows.
Tim took another sip as if somehow it would suddenly taste much better. Unfortunately the world was filled with so called miracles, suddenly fixing his coffee on command was not one of those miracles.
“Timothy Jackson Drake- are you even listening to me right now”? Lucius' angry tone snapped Tim to attention to meet the man's scowling glare.
He was the only man that could look downright terrifying even with his little blue bow tie and red rimmed glasses. All the more reason Tim respected him so much. Not enough to not speak his mind though-
“I just don't see the big deal-” Tim protested “I'm not even working a full shift, just stopping by to check on a few things”
“A week and a half- until you got your stitches out, “ Lucius pushed up his glasses with a heavy sigh “It's been three days dammit”
Tims shoulders hiked up “What, so you expect me to just sit at home?”
“I expect you to know your limits, I know you seem to be oblivious to that which is why I seem to have to remind you”
Okay that was a bit far. Sure he doesn't have the best track record of “self care” and “healthy boundaries” but he hasn't died yet!
.
.
Again..
“Lucius, you're treating me like some insolent child, I'm not going to drop dead from stitches just by attending a few meetings”!
Lucius paused, arms still crossed though his gaze was slightly obscured by a reflection off his glasses. His mustache twitched and Tim watched the tension leak out of his muscles and the man's scowl switch into a small smile.
“You know what Tim- maybe you're right”
“I- I am”? Tim blinked, this felt like a trap.
“If you insist on taking some meetings then as CEO I cannot stop you” Lucius sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone “But of course- as your Chief of Staff, I must insist you stick to a schedule”
Lucius just smiled more, his gaze now taking on a distinct glint.
Definitely a trap.
Tim didn't know where this was going, and that alone was terrifying. He had to stop himself from taking another sip of his sludge someone dared call “coffee” out of habit.
Without another word, Lucius pressed a few buttons on his phone and then lifted it up to his face, Tim could hear the ringing. He hoped it would ring out.
Unfortunately yet again, he was not so lucky, and a small click signaled whoever was being called actually picked up. Lucius smirk only grew.
“Ah hello this is Lucius Fox on behalf of Drake Industries wanting to update you about the recent scheduling issues”
There- haven't been any scheduling issues?
Tim tried to shift closer to hear but was stopped by Lucius outstretched hand just a few inches from his chest. Sure he could push the hand aside but that would involve initiating contact which- no.
“Yes yes I know your boss has been dying to get in, speaking of has he yet to fill his afternoon? Oh yes our CEO in fact is available to meet on my behalf”
Okay so he was just… passing on a meeting?
Boring- but Tim could deal with contractors, he'd done so long before he was old enough to even intern at the company.
His inventing supplies had to come from somewhere. And Tiny Tim with an Amex had to learn which suppliers had good quality and were easily bribed to keep the transactions.. Under the table.
“Sounds great”! Lucius grinned, looking far too happy “I assume he is all set for transit otherwise the company can provide a cab”?
“Oh of course no need, the door man will prepare for your arrival in about an hour? Yes yes all good- talk soon, and thank you again for the last minute accommodations”
Lucius pulled the phone away and pressed the end call button. The contact said “Diana” did he know a Diana? Well besides Wonder Woman but Lucius wouldn't be calling her so then who-
.
.
No.
Tim stumbled, slamming his coffee cup against the counter as he braced himself, looking up at Lucius with utter betrayal in his eyes “No.”
Lucius, unwavering in his cruelty only smiled back “Oh yes-”
“Anything but this Lu please i'm begging you-”
“You wanna work today? I'm giving you work,” Lucius reiterated “and besides you broke our deal at the gala.”
f*ck. What could he even say?
“Is this victim blaming right now”?
“You and I both know you could do Quantum Electrodynamic equations in your sleep-” He said with a sigh that read i'm-not-angry- just-disappointed.
“A few glasses of champagne did not make you forget basic physics to know damm well pulling that glass would have sent the whole thing down”
Tim hunched his shoulders, half grateful for the gel in Timothy's hair that his face wasn't suddenly covered. It wasn't that Lucius was wrong. (though Tim did not in fact anticipate both towers collapsing like that)
But dear god did he hate having Authority figures.
He could absolutely ditch this meeting too- but he respected Lucius too much for that.
“So… I have an hour before I have to deal with Izbel”?
“Plenty of time for me to send someone to get you some better coffee, and you to re read your file on the bastard”
That got a small snicker from Tim
“Is there no way I can get out of this”?
“Unless you manage to concoct yet another miraculous incident then no,” As if reading his mind, Lucius raised a brow “ and don't even debate it, lest Leslie and I both wring you out for it”
Well sh*t- Tims day had just gone from sort of not great to downright awful.
“How long is that coffee”?
“However long it takes you to accept your fate, get ready in the meeting room, and about ten minutes” Lucius replied without missing a beat.
Tim looked down at his current cup, lifting it up and quickly chugging half of it. He took the half empty container and tossed it in the trash can nearby before meeting Lucius' eyes again.
“Let's get this over with.”
Lucius just smiled and pushed up straightened his sleeves “As you wish, Boss.”
God- kill him now.
____________________
Timothy Drake sat back, leather chair creaking just slightly as he adjusted in place. The bright light streamed from all angles from the corner office and illuminated the various stacks of paper strewn across the long conference table.
He adjusted his signature golden watch, a final gift from his father, a reminder of responsibility to uphold the company, but more than that, the Drake namesake.
Gold wasn't his color. He inherited his mothers cool undertones, but it was part of the image so he would have to cope.
Thankfully his coping mechanism had arrived, a fresh cup of coffee. A Grande brown sugar shaken iced espresso with twelve extra shots and a dash of cinnamon.
It was a sugary monstrosity and held about twice the daily recommended dose of caffeine - therefore it was perfect.
Tim picked up his cup and took a long sip, his eyes trailing down at the file placed just in front of him. It was in a fancy Drake Industries patented file, but of course it had nothing to do with work.
To anyone else it would look like some boring data reports for an offshore branch in Turkey that didn't exist beyond the paper trail and some hired hands.
Through Timothy's Versache sunglasses?
It was a condensed informational report on anything and everything relating to Mr. Charles Izbel.
Now he didn't like crossing Cardinal tech with his work life, but then again he'd rather take that risk than be caught dead with files detailing his business partners' adultery scandals.
Charles Izbel is a… character.
A self made man (if you discount his great grandfather's secret fortune) who found his way to the big leagues in pharmaceutical care and for some reason decided to set up shop in Gotham of all places.
The man must pay a fortune in warehouse security alone, not even counting the amount of skylights he would have to replace from Bluejay and others misreading coordinates.
With Drake Industries new healthcare program for lower city Gotham, unfortunately Izebel Inc was one of the best and most convenient suppliers available, and the man was more than happy to cut them a deal for the “honor” of associating with Drake Industries.
In short- he was a suck up, an opportunist, a bit of a sleaze, but he produced a good product and was genuinely a decent business partner as long as their communication stayed strictly over email.
He was also a perfect inspiration for Timothy Drake.
A loud buzz sounded out and Tim took another long sip of coffee, waiting until it got just loud enough to grade against his very senses before he finally pressed down.
“Mister Drake? Your guest has arrived shall I send him up” A nasally woman's voice responded without further greeting.
“Thank you Angie and yes send him in-” Timothy replied.
The comm buzzed off and Tim sat back in his chair, savoring his last few moments of peace. Those moments were in fact, very brief.
You could hear the man before you could see him, the click of his boots even against the carpeted floors that covered just about every inch of Drake Industries.
Twin giant wooden doors slammed open and Tim was greeted with the man himself, Charles Izbel in all his glory.
His yellow blonde pompadour was practically glowing from the sheen of the conference room lights bouncing off an absurd amount of layered hair gel.
He waved with his free hand, his other gripping tightly onto his walking cane. Despite the man barely leaning into his 40s he relied on the aid after an industry accident.
The details were kept fairly under wraps but from what Tim could tell, nothing too suspicious, just mildly tragic. Enough he would almost feel bad for the guy.
He brandished his gold and diamond encrusted walking cane, the wood shining so much he would fool many into believing it was metallic.
Yeah- almost.
“Mister Izbel, welcome in”! Timothy grinned, pushing his chair back as he stood and strutted over to greet the man.
Mr. Charles Izbel lifted up his hand and pushed up his sunglasses on top of his pompadour, they seemed to stick to the hair. Soft green eyes looked normal, so at the very least he was sober.
“Timothy Drake as I live and breathe, you know I have assumed you'd gone and died and your assistant was covering it up”
“Ah Angie is skilled indeed, though I'd hope that's not on her set”
The man let out a gruff laugh and stuck his hand out in greeting. Timothy didn't hesitate to meet his hand. A wide grin on his face and, pearlescent teeth on full display
Timothy cleared his throat and half helped guide Mr.Izbel to his seat on the other end of the conference table. As soon as he was settled he turned heel and went back to his desk.
“Now then, I know the arrangement was last minute but I do hope this meeting is still satisfactory”
Mr.Izbel waved his hand “Ah not a bother at all, I know you young ceo types have better things to do than business”
Timothy hummed, grabbing the data reports for the Turkish branch and straightening them. “Well life has a way of shifting priorities around when you least expect it”
“Call it whatever you'd like don't worry I was young once too”
Tim took another long sip of his coffee as he shoved the “spare” files into one of his drawers he would need to resort through later.
Well- best get this over with.
“It goes without saying that the project has been a huge success, especially with the collaboration of Wayne Enterprises-” Mr.Izbel nodded absentmindedly as Tim spoke
“My team has already tracked a giant stock jump with all corporations involved, yours included, so congratulations”
“Congratulations indeed- it seems this collaboration was for the best on both ends”
Mr.Izbel was smiling but something about it felt..different. It made Tim uneasy, but it must just be being in the same room as this sleazebag. He took another sip of his coffee.
"A wonderful opportunity taken advantage of"
It did reflect well business wise, tons of good PR and press, but Tim could care less.
Mr.Izbels eyes lit up at his words "Speaking of wonderful opportunities, such is the reason I insisted on meeting in person for once instead of through assistants"
He watched as the man leaned over, the one button at the front of his suit straining as he folded over to grab his briefcase. Thankfully the button held as he snapped back and landed the case on the table with a loud thud.
"Well most projects are run through my planning manager but for you I make an exception"
Or well- Lucius did, not that Mr.Izbel needed to know that.
The man nodded, flicking over the golden clasps of his suitcase and folding it open. "Ah yes I'd met with him before- Alvin right"?
"Ah close enough, but it's Alan Draper-"
Mr.Izbel paused in his shuffling of papers and raised a brow, half of his face wrinkling as he did so.
"Are you sure? I could have sworn it was Alvin-"
Timothy laughed "Despite my reputation I do try and know the names of my close employees"
Or the fact they were the same person.
It would have made Tim nervous except for the fact it wouldn't have been the first time he had slipped up and introduced himself as Alvin instead of Alan.
It was the name he'd gotten used to the first time around, he only changed it because he got so f*cking tired of Jason constantly referencing Alvin and the Chipmunks when he was in deep cover.
“Christmas Time” in Jason's chipmunk impression added onto the Red Hood modulation made him want to go deaf and scream. God- is it bad he misses it?
.
.
.
That's- besides the point.
Alvin was dead and gone, Alan was what remained.
Speaking of Alan, His own “Event Planner” had a very interesting interaction with Mister Izbel just a few weeks prior.
Only now as "Timothy Drake" did he keep his disrespect down to carefully constructed comments instead of outright demeaning remarks and threats. Had it been any of his other employees at the other end, Tim would sooner get his supplies from Nanda Prat.
But he could handle it. So he coped.
Shuffling caught Tims attention as his gaze returned back to Mr.Izbel, a decent sized stack of papers in hand.
The man slipped half of the papers into a folder and then with practiced precision slid it across the table. It glided and slid just in front of Tim perfectly placed to the point he wouldn't even have to stand up.
"Impressive" Timothy remarked earnestly as he reached forward and picked up the folder.
It had a fair amount of weight to it, and the papers were still warm. Freshly printed then. Apparently he wasn't the only one doing some prep before the meeting.
“I hope you find the opportunity equally impressive” Mr.Izbel smirked, his expression giving no idea as to what it was. Only that he thought himself clever.
Timothy flipped open the file, reading the title on the second page and felt his chills shook across his limbs. Timothy slipped through his grasp, leaving just Tim.
He had to stop himself from reaching to clutch at his hair instead of his clothes. It was just Tim, but Tim couldn't afford to slip up something as basic as simple mannerisms.
Eyes trailed down to the golden watch that curled heavy around his wrist.
You are a Drake, a Dragon- act like it.
Tim tore his gaze away from the watch, steadying himself as his thumb slid over the edge of the paper. A small shock of pain as the edge stained crimson, papercut.
He didn't even flinch, shifting that page aside and picking up another.
“Mister Izbel,” He began, holding it up and facing the title towards the man “What is this”?
Mr.Izbels sly smirk turned into a full grin, his hands slipping together and fingers barely managing to overlap from his bulky rings.
“It’s an opportunity, Mister Drake”
_____
Tim peeled his hands away from clutching at his hair grabbed his cup, lifting it to his lips and longing for that bittersweet relief. But none came.
He took a moment away from the mess that had become his desk and glanced at the cup. Empty. It was about his fourth now.
“sh*t-” Tim reached forward and pressed the call button “Angie dear can you have someone bring me up another cup”?
He lifted his finger and the comm buzzed, but no reply came. He pressed again. “Angie? You there”?
On cue- he could pick up on the faint clicking of shoes from the hall out. Huh she must have read his mind then.
The door creaked open and Tim put on his best Timothy grin “Angie you are a saint”
But instead of a snort laugh in response, he was greeted with a deep huff “That she is, and that poor woman deserves a fruit basket and a raise”
Tim blinked as he looked at Lucius, the man with his arms crossed and hands disappointedly caffeine-less.
“She already has an amazing salary and besides fruit baskets rot so easily”
Lucius raised a brow and it didn't take more than a few seconds of starring before Tims shoulders dropped “Fine fine, i'll write her up another bonus this month but im still firm on the fruit baskets”
“Then get her some fancy ass cheese and wine basket,” Lucius snapped back, quickly crossing the distance of the room and settling into the chair next to Tim.
“Now- talk to me, you should have been home hours ago, this is late for you and that's besides the fact you’re still recovering”
Tim sighed, he really didn't have the energy to explain. Instead he quickly filed together the folder from Mister Izbel, paper now cold to the touch, and slid it over to Lucius.
The man raised a brow but didn't comment further as he took the folder, flipping it open and scanning the first few pages.
They stayed silent, Tim fidgeting with the bandaid on his thumb and just glancing up to see Lucius eyes widen from behind the red colored frames.
Lucius paused, snapping the folder shut and holding it in place “Is he serious”?
“I don't imagine he would draft an entire agreement and present for two hours straight if he was anything less”
“So? Why are you still looking this over if you rejected it”
Tim was a master of concealing his reactions, years of practice in deep cover and living with Cass he knew just how to keep every little cue muffled. But Lucius could see right through him. It was apparently “A dad thing” which was bullsh*t, but freaky nonetheless.
Lucius sat up straighter, pushing his glasses back up as he set the file down “Tim- you are not selling Drake Industries to that man”
“I know-”
“Then why on earth haven't you rejected him yet”!?
“Because” Tim stressed “Half of the conversation was him offering how I was young and didn't need the stress of being a CEO while enjoying the so-called best years of my life”
Lucius raised a brow but Tim waved him off “If you tell me it only gets worse from here I will run out of this building sobbing and leave you to deal with the PR mess”
“That wasnt what I was going to say” Lucius lip twitched “But the image of you fleeing grounds like some heartbroken hallmark actress would be worth it”
Tim chuckled half heartedly, not really in the mood for joking.
“Tim” Lucius began “You know I'm here to support you, but I need to know what you’re thinking- as much as I've honed in my dad skills dealing with my four brats”
The way he said “brats” lovingly made Tims chest churn just a little. But he needed to focus.
“If I reject him right now he will assume im immature to pass on such a ‘big opportunity’ and that'll only fuel the flame of him trying to convince me, demanding even more meetings and driving me insane”
Lucius leaned forward and motioned for him to continue.
“So at the very least I wait a few weeks, make it seem like I ran it by my teams and then draft up a rejection- some bullsh*t about how thats not the direction Drake industries is going to take but I appreciate the offer yatta yatta”
“This one of your trying to stay seventeen steps ahead then”? Lucius asked, but he seemed earnest.
“Exactly that” Tims shoulders dropped, “The less I have to deal with him outside of the street med project, the better”
Lucius seemed ready to say something but was cut off by Tim jerking upright, elbow shooting to his face “ACHOO-”
Tim sniffled, moving his elbow away and pausing at the tissue in front of his face, Lucius eyes shining in concern. “You coming down with something”?
He accepted the tissue with a sniffle and quickly shook his head “No no i'm fine”
“Probably just reacting to the fumes of whatever god awful cologne Mr.Izbel bathed in, I swear I've never been happier for such a large table- I could feel my eyes watering from across the room”
Lucius seemed to relax just a bit “Regardless, I think it's about time you head home”
“It's not that late”
“It's eleven.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, Oh-” Lucius huffed, standing up once more “Now get your stuff, im driving”
“Lou really i'm fine, it's not the first time i've slept in office and I really need to finish with this report”
“You have paid interns for a reason, and you know I don't approve of sleeping in the office- especially when you have stitches”
Oh right- Tim had honestly forgotten about that.
“It's not even that bad, really” He insisted, tossing the tissue away.
“Eleven, you have eleven stitches”
Tim snapped his fingers “Ah yes but in multiple locations, so it's not that deep”
‘It's never been that deep’ rang in his head, but outside of Lucius being a grandpa that meme didn't exist anymore.
Lucius for one, did not look impressed. But then again Tim was an independent person, it wasn't like he'd drag him out if it came down to it. That was always more his ex brothers thing.
“You’re an idiot.”
Tim gawked, opening his mouth to defend himself only to feel his senses overcome yet again and a much louder sneeze sounded out. His head jerked so rough it slammed forward and smacked onto the table.
“Oh oh ow owowow owww” Tim whined, hands clutching at his forehead as the stinging radiated across his skull.
The pain subsided just enough for him to look at Lucius and see the man, car keys in hand, grabbing at Tims bag.
“Wait wait wait- Lou im fine,” He tried to insist, but it was too late.
Papa bear mode had begun.
Lucius rolled up his sleeves and reached over, lifting Tim to his feet from under his arms. Not that it was difficult considering his unfortunate build.
“No if ands or buts young man, you’re going home and to bed- im driving” He declared “and if I so much as catch a wiff of you working remote i'm shutting off the company wifi and letting everyone take a day off”
Tim had no room to protest, barely managing to shove half of his desk into his bookbag before Lucius snatched it and began guiding him out of the office and towards the nearest elevator with a heavy hand.
Well guess he was, in fact, going home early.
Whether he wanted to or not.
Tim was ushered downstairs, bidding quick goodbye to the last of the guards preparing for night shift as the rest of the building was shut down. They chatted as they were escorted to the main garage and Lucius wished them a good night after Tim climbed into the passenger seat.
Lucius' old car smelled like those sh*tty gas station pine refreshers and leather with a hint of cigarette smoke, not that he ever did smoke, but he knew Luke borrowed the car enough the smell must have stuck.
The radio would scream if you turned it to the wrong frequency or drove too close to the harbor, but otherwise it switched between various jazz tracks, Maynard Ferguson, Benny Goodman, Frank Sinatra, and Nat King Cole.
Tim honestly enjoyed the songs even if he usually preferred more swing style, not that he'd admit it, but he was pretty sure Lucius knew.
He watched the city streets fade away as they drove more towards bristols empty space. Land was a luxury in Gotham, but to Tim it just felt barren.
Lucius pulled up to the gate, punching in the code without any prompting. 0712. The gates swung open with a creak and quickly shut behind them as the car began up the winding driveway up to the manor.
At the very least it was a low fog day, low enough that Tim could appreciate the greenery lining almost every inch of the property. Including his mothers once prized Topiary garden that was just faintly visible from the road.
Orange Colored Sky reached its final notes right as they pulled to a stop just in front of the doors. The car turned off before Tim could insist Lucius stay in.
Swinging his bag over his shoulder he opened the car door with a click and stepped out, he used his leg to ensure the door had actually closed this time around before beginning up the stairs.
Lucius footsteps stayed just a few paces behind, he could hear him as he approached the door, fiddling with his keys as his hand wrapped around the brass knob.
The door swung open and he was greeted with the cold chill, moonlight streaming in from the Palladian Windows at the head of the room.
Tim took a deep breath, Lucius steps had since stopped, he knew full well the man was probably just behind him waiting for him to go inside so he could go home to his actual family.
He turned around.
Lucius smiled at him, a warm sight that made Tims worries fade away just enough. “Now, I know you hate when I do this but-”
The man reached into his satchel, one that Tim hadn't even noticed he was carrying and he lifted out a brown paper sack, holding it out.
He took it and looked it over, It was just a plain sack. But when he flipped it over he saw the distinct cursive writing “Timothy” with a little heart on the i.
Tim met Lucius gaze and the man held a hand up before he could speak
“Now before you go trying to reject a good meal- Tanya insisted, besides its just a PB&J, crusts on the side and some other treats”
Tim blinked, holding the paper in hand as it crinkled in his grasp.
“Its far too late to be eating now, but youll have something since you’re not going to the office right”?
“..Right”
Lucius looked satisfied and closed his satchel “Now then, I better get going before I get pulled over by Batman for a speeding ticket”
Tims lip twitched into a small smirk “Thanks Lou, and tell Tanya I said thank you as well”
“Of course” Lucius said “You rest up, ill check in later alright”?
Tim nodded, words failing otherwise.
With that said, Lucius turned heel and walked back to his car. Tim heard the engine jump a few times before settling into a low rumble. No matter how many times he insisted, Lou would never accept a newer model.
Lucius waved from his seat as he pulled out of the half crescent driveway, leaving Tim alone once more.
He shut the door.
—-
Tim had put the lunch in the fridge, not bothering with unpacking anything knowing that he wouldn't be able to stomach much after having had almost nothing but coffee all evening.
A nasty habit really, one that even his father insisted would catch up to him. But it wasn't like he'd live long enough to see the consequences now would he?
Tim reached up, wiping away some of the condensation from the bathroom mirror. He looked himself over, raking his hand through his still damp hair and untucking his shirt from his basketball shorts with a yawn.
He reached forward and pulled on the tap, running water filling his ears once more as he went to brush his teeth.
The strong mint taste unbearable for a few seconds before it evened out as he looked around the bathroom, making a mental checklist of a few chores he could get done on his day off.
A small shine caught his eye and Tim looked over to the edge of the counter, The shiny golden rolex laid limp to the side, undone and both ends curling over themselves with only the clock face looking back.
Tim stared at it a few moments too long before turning back to the sink, a quick spit and rinse he put his brush away and turned to leave again.
His hand paused right at the light switch, eyes trailing to the watch again.
—
Timothy climbed into bed, covers wrapping around in a cocoon of warmth as all light was snuffed out via layers of black out curtains.
In his bathroom, the sink still covered in a few remaining droplets of water. The counter now empty, the watch lay alone stuffed inside the drawer below, the eyesore going untouched until he would need to take up the Drake name once more.
And despite the absurd amount of caffeine in his system, for once, sleep came easy.
