Bernard ran into Danny again one afternoon after class — same coffee shop, same easy grin. This time, Danny waved first.
Bernard laughed. “You’re not seriously making that stick, are you?”
“Already did,” Danny said, sliding into the seat across from him. “You want the last chocolate one again?”
“…You’re dangerous,” Bernard said, but he smiled.
And just like that, it became a thing — casual coffees, quick lunches, the kind of effortless friendship that happens when two people are both a little too good at pretending everything’s fine.
Danny was funny, charming in an offbeat way. He had this energy — a mix of sarcasm and kindness that pulled people in. And he actually listened when Bernard talked.
But sometimes — just sometimes — he’d say something that made Bernard pause.
One afternoon, they were walking across campus when Bernard complained about his lab group.
“Every week, someone sets off the safety alarm. I swear, at this point it’s a tradition.”
Danny hummed thoughtfully, sipping his soda. “You’re not the one who tripped it last semester, right? During the… er, vinegar thing?”
Bernard stopped. “How do you—okay, that was one time.”
Danny grinned. “Lucky guess?”
“Yeah, right,” Bernard said, shaking his head, laughing it off — because what else could he do?
Another time, they were at the student union, and Bernard’s phone buzzed with a message. He frowned at it, typing quickly.
Danny tilted his head. “He texted again?”
Bernard blinked. “How’d you—”
“You made that face,” Danny said smoothly, smiling like it was the most normal thing in the world. “You always do when you get a text from him.”
Bernard laughed, flustered. “Do I?”
“Yeah,” Danny said, “but don’t worry. It’s cute.”
Bernard’s face went a little pink, and he looked away, smiling into his drink.
A few weeks in, they’d gotten close enough that Bernard started inviting him to hang out with his other friends. Danny got along weirdly well with everyone — like he already knew how to make each person laugh.
Every time Bernard mentioned “my friend Danny,” Tim’s stomach did a little flip.
Because he knew. He knew what Danny was. Not a ghost, not exactly, but something worse — a supernatural chaos gremlin who could reduce Batman himself to awkward silence.
And now he was bonding with Tim’s boyfriend.
It all came to a head one evening at Bernard’s apartment. Danny and Bernard were playing cards, chatting lazily.
Bernard laughed. “Okay, I have to know — how do you do that? You always call my bluff.”
Danny smiled, eyes gleaming. “Maybe I’m just good at reading people.”
Bernard smirked. “No, seriously.”
Danny leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You really wanna know?”
Danny lowered his voice, almost conspiratorial. “Okay. It’s because you twitch your left thumb when you’re lying. And you always look at your cards twice when you’re sure you’re gonna win.”
Bernard blinked. “That’s… actually true.”
Danny grinned. “See? Totally normal.”
Later that night, when Bernard mentioned Danny to Tim over dinner, Tim tried to play it cool.
“So, you’ve been hanging out with him a lot lately.”
“Yeah,” Bernard said. “He’s great! Weird, but great. You’d like him.”
Tim smiled thinly. “Oh, I bet I would.”
Bernard laughed. “What’s that tone supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” Tim said quickly. “Just… be careful, okay?”
“Of what? He’s a sweetheart.”
Tim sighed. “That’s what he wants you to think.”
Bernard raised an eyebrow. “Tim, he brings me muffins and helps me study. He’s not an assassin.”
Tim muttered under his breath, “You’d be surprised.”
Meanwhile, back at his dorm, Danny texted Clockwork:
Danny: we’re friends now. mission accomplished?
Clockwork: almost. soon he’ll trust you completely.
Clockwork: then you tell him his plants are judging him.
Danny grinned. “Perfect.”
Bernard had texted Tim, asking if he wanted to grab a bite with him and “his friend Danny.”
Tim had almost typed absolutely not before remembering he couldn’t sound suspicious.
It was supposed to be a casual lunch.
Just three normal guys eating sandwiches.
Except the moment Tim saw Danny’s grin across the table, he knew fate hated him.
“Hey, Hoodie Boy,” Danny said cheerfully.
Tim inhaled sharply through his nose. “Hi, Danny.”
Bernard smiled between them. “You two still doing that weird energy thing?”
Danny just shrugged. “Must be static.”
Tim muttered, “Feels more like shock.”
They were halfway through their food when Bernard’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it and frowned.
“Hey, my friend Duke’s around the corner. Mind if he joins us?”
Before Tim could say no, Danny smiled. “Sure! The more, the merrier.”
Tim slumped. “Of course he is.”
Duke arrived a few minutes later, clearly not expecting to walk into a social minefield.
“Hey, guys—oh. You’re here.”
Danny waved. “Hey, sunshine boy! Haven’t seen you since that traffic-light thing!”
Duke froze mid-step. “…What traffic-light thing.”
Danny blinked. “Oh, sorry, thought you were someone else. You just have that ‘I fix things I shouldn’t have broken’ vibe.”
Bernard laughed. “Man, you are way too observant.”
Tim’s only reply was a long, slow blink that said please don’t start.
A few tables away, Dick and Jason sat disguised under baseball caps — “just keeping an eye on things,” as Batman put it.
“Do we have to do this?” Jason grumbled. “The kid’s harmless.”
“Harmless?” Dick whispered. “He broke Bruce with one sentence.”
Jason smirked. “Yeah, but it was hilarious.”
Danny glanced up suddenly, catching their eyes for just a split second.
He grinned and raised his cup in their direction.
“Hey, Dick! Jason! Try not to argue about the donuts this time!”
Dick froze. Jason nearly choked on his coffee.
Bernard turned. “Wait, you guys know him too?”
Tim slammed his head into his hands. “Please stop talking.”
Later that night in the Batcave group chat:
Nightwing: okay, he saw us through TWO disguises.
Red Hood: and called out the donut fight. wtf.
Signal: he mentioned a traffic light incident that never made it off the encrypted comms.
Red Robin: do you see now why I’m concerned.
Robin: perhaps he is a god.
Robin: you cannot be certain.
Meanwhile, Bernard texted Danny later that night:
Bernard: do you actually know all those guys??
Danny: oh yeah! Gotham’s a small city :)
Bernard: you’re so weird lmao
Danny set down his phone, grinning as it buzzed again.
Clockwork: delightful as always. they still fear you.
Danny: yeah, but Bernard’s great. he thinks I’m just “weird.”
Clockwork: that’s the ideal outcome. keep it that way. next week, tell Red Hood his favorite helmet squeaks.
Danny: …how do you even know that?
Clockwork: omniscience, dear boy.
Danny: right. cool. love that for us.
Danny sighed, stretching with a smug little smile.
“Guess I’ll keep being a little shit.”
Jason didn’t plan to run into Danny Fenton again.
He was just doing a regular patrol through the Narrows — low-level stuff, quiet night — when he spotted the kid leaving a late-night diner, laughing with Bernard.
Red Hood froze on the rooftop.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered.
Because sure, Tim’s boyfriend was sweet. Nice guy. But he’d somehow befriended the walking anomaly who haunted half the Batfam’s nightmares — the one who could casually ruin Bruce’s composure with a single sentence.
And Jason was done wondering how.
They split up after a few blocks — Bernard heading toward his apartment, Danny cutting through an alley toward the university side of town.
Jason dropped down silently, landing in front of him.
Danny stopped, blinking at the red helmet in front of him. “Oh. Hey, Helmet Guy.”
Jason crossed his arms. “We’ve talked about this. Red Hood.”
“Right, right.” Danny grinned. “You’re the one with the helmet collection.”
Jason stiffened. “Excuse me?”
Danny’s grin widened just slightly. “What? You just… seem like a guy with a lot of helmets.”
Jason took a slow breath. “You’ve been messing with us for months. How do you do it? Microphones? Bugs? Psychic powers?”
Danny tilted his head. “Have you tried—” he mimed a swirling gesture “—just chilling?”
Jason took a step forward. “I’m serious, Fenton.”
“Wow, you know my name. Romantic,” Danny teased.
Jason’s hand twitched. “I could shoot you.”
“You could,” Danny said cheerfully, “but then you’d have to explain to Batman why you shot a random college kid who complimented your helmet.”
Jason paused. “…Okay, that’s fair.”
They stared at each other for a beat — Jason sizing him up, Danny looking entirely too relaxed for someone facing an armed vigilante.
Then Danny said, almost casually, “Oh, by the way, the squeaky one’s still your favorite.”
Danny smiled. “You know, the one that makes the noise when you tilt your head just right? You keep it clean, though. Impressive.”
Jason’s jaw actually dropped. “How—”
Danny shrugged, stepping past him. “Guess I’m just observant.”
Jason spun around, but Danny was already halfway down the alley, hands in his pockets, whistling something that sounded suspiciously like the Batman: The Animated Series theme.
The next morning in the Batfam group chat:
Nightwing: what did he do this time?
Red Hood: he knows which helmet squeaks.
Red Robin: HE KNOWS EVERYTHING.
Robin: perhaps it is penance for your poor stealth maintenance.
Batman: do not engage with him further.
Red Hood: i could take him.
Red Robin: you couldn’t even track him last time.
Red Hood: that was a tactical retreat.
Meanwhile, Danny was back at the diner that afternoon, sipping a milkshake and texting Clockwork.
Danny: so jason definitely suspects me again.
Clockwork: delightful. did you use the helmet line?
Danny: yeah. he looked like he was buffering.
Clockwork: splendid. next time, mention that Dick still hides cereal boxes in the ceiling panels.
Clockwork: and you enjoy it.
Danny grinned into his straw. “Yeah,” he muttered, “maybe just a little.”
