Good morning/afternoon/evening, everyone!
Apologies for the slightly longer delay in publishing this month, but as this chapter is approaching 8,000 words in and of itself, I think you'll forgive me haha. Not as much plot development, per se, but we do see a lot of character interaction, including Dick and Danny's first official meeting. It still feels like something's missing, but oh, well, what can you do.
As this is the chapter with the ball, which is a party, I recommend listening to party music to really get the vibe. I recommend listening to this DJ set: "Fatboy Slim British Airways i360 for Cercle" on the Cercle youtube channel. (There is talking for the first like 30 seconds, but it's meant to be part of the recorded set.) Go to youtube dot com / watch?v=8AvC05kXS9I
Side note: 12,000+ views?! 1,000+ views in one day when ch. 05 went live?! This is insane! I am tickled pink, you guys; thank you for reading. :)
General Notes:
"This is dialogue."
"This is alternative dialogue, meaning whispered or spoken from a distance such as on the phone."
'This is thought.'
This and THIS and *this* are emphasis. The *this* emphasis is more along the lines of the snarky or sarcastic.
I do not own Danny Phantom or Young Justice.
Ch. 05 originally published: Friday, September 28, 2018
RECOGNIZED
Chapter 05
Two to Tango
'what causes change in eye color — Google Search'
The doorbell distracted Maddie from her tablet screen. She set it aside and opened the door to find one of Danny's friends waiting patiently.
"Hello, Tucker!" she greeted and stepped aside.
Entering, he smiled brightly and asked, "Hey, Mrs. F, is Danny ready?"
"Almost. I keep hearing shouting from his room…" The door clicked shut as Maddie glanced fleetingly upstairs.
"Probably the bow tie Sam made him wear. I'll go give him a hand."
Tucker mounted the stairs and hesitated just before entering Danny's room. He glanced aside and saw Jazz's door sitting slightly ajar. "Hey, Jazz, got a minute?" he peeked in and asked.
Jazz, lounging atop her comforter, looked up from her book. "Sure, Tucker. What's up?" She shut the novel and set it aside.
"So, Danny said he talked to you about the…*situation.*" She nodded. Tucker came inside and leaned casually against her tall dresser. "I was wondering if you'd given it any thought?"
"Well, I've used every method of subliminal interrogation possible, but I don't think Mom and Dad know anything. In fact, it seems like Mom has been worried about something too. I think she might be suspicious that something's up."
Tucker hummed and nodded. "So what do you think is the explanation?"
"I honestly don't know," Jazz admitted. "Ever since he brought it up, I've been…seeing things. You know, little things, here and there—nothing major, but just subtle little hints that he might…not…" She hesitated.
"Might not—what?"
"Might not be my brother," she spat out and looked guiltily to Tucker.
"Might not in what sense? Since when?"
"You know, like maybe his facial structure doesn't quite match Mom or Dad's, or perhaps he's not appearing to be short like Mom or massively tall like Dad, or potentially his behavior has been a little off recently-"
"Off since when?" Tucker prodded.
"Since the accident," she said.
"So what's your theory?"
"I—I don't have one."
"We do. Sam and I. We think we figured it out. Well…I do."
Jazz looked hopefully at him.
"He's Robin's clone swapped out for our Danny around the time of the accident."
Jazz immediately glowered. "Of all the stupid things you could have come up with-"
"No, think about it, Jazz! His behavior has been way off since then!"
"Yeah, because he suddenly got superpowers."
"But why would he have been stupid enough to go inside the portal in the first place?! That's not Danny! He had a complete lack of common sense and general fear of ghosts going inside! And out of the blue, he suddenly wants to check it out?"
"I don't know, I'm not a teenage boy!"
"Come on, you know that's bull. A shy, scaredy-cat boy wouldn't suddenly go inside a portal to another dimension all on his own just to impress me and Sam."
"Tucker," Jazz said, "we both know about Danny's secret crush on Sam, and Sam's secret crush on Danny. Of course he would go into the portal if it even showed an inkling of impressing Sam. Wouldn't him wanting to prove he isn't a scaredy-cat be further motivation?"
"Fair enough, but how do you explain his sudden change in appearance?"
Jazz looked at him incredulously. "…Huh?"
"His face! He's always looked sorta like you Fentons, but after the time of the accident his face changed. Look." He took out his phone and opened it to a side-by-side comparison of Danny's yearbook photos from the 8th and 9th grades—before and after the fateful accident. Jazz scrutinized the screen. "I ran it through facial recognition software. It's only a 95% match before and after the accident. How else can you explain a change in appearance?"
"Oh my god," Jazz moaned, suddenly disinterested in the screen. She lazily handed the phone back to him. "It's called PUBERTY, Tweedle-Dee. Of COURSE his face has changed."
"No, Jazz, come on, you have to admit something's off!"
"Yeah. I will. He had a lab accident, got superpowers, discovered a genetic duplicate, and hit puberty." She reopened her book and settled back onto the bed. "Come back to me when you have something more solid. Honestly, you two watch too many movies…"
"Maybe you don't watch enough," he grumbled in reply. A shout of frustration came from another room.
"Go help Tweedle-Dum with his tie," Jazz barked. Tucker huffed and went across the hall to maybe-Danny's room.
"But what color were Elizabeth Taylor's eyes in reality? The answer is, they were not purple at all but dark blue, and merely appeared to be purple when exposed to lighting, make-up, particular hues of clothing or the photographic re-touching of her images. True purple eyes are extremely rare, and almost always occur in people with albinism — the condition in which a person is born with little or no pigment in their eyes, skin or hair. Albinos possess low levels of melanin, the natural substance that determines pigment. It is this deficiency that creates purp-"
"I'm ready to go, Mom."
Maddie jolted at the sound of her son's voice. She looked up from her tablet to see Danny standing sheepishly in the kitchen doorway. She couldn't help but tear up at the sight of her son—'he's my son, Danny's definitely my son'—in a tuxedo with slicked back hair. His shoulders rolled forward while his feet turned inwards.
"Oh, Danny," she cooed as she stood, "you look so handsome!"
He managed a small smile. Maddie held out her open arms, so Danny shuffled over to her. She pulled him into a tight hug and planted a wet kiss on his cheek.
"I love you so much, sweetie."
"I—I love you too, Mom?" He gently removed himself from her vice-like grip. "Are you doing okay?"
"Yes, honey, I'm fine, just…I feel like you're growing up so fast."
"It's just a stuffy dinner Sam's parents are putting on," Danny said as he filled a glass with ice and water.
"I know, but tonight you're socializing with the elite, next month is prom, and the next thing you know you'll be walking down the aisle as you gradually slip away from us…" Her tears began making their presence known.
Danny looked at her in suspicion. "Mom?"
Maddie met his gaze and immediately lost herself in Danny's eyes. The irises were crystalline, practically glacial in their cool intensity. There was such an iciness to his irises, she could almost imagine them leaving a trail of frost if they focused on one spot for too long. There wasn't even a hint of Jack's indigo or her own violet.
'My baby boy…'
"Okay, well I'd better get going, Mom," Danny said a little too loudly to be natural.
Maddie saw his apprehension and shook her head to clear it of such deviant thoughts. She rearranged her face to a loving smile. "Have fun tonight, Danny. Say 'hi' to Sam for me!" She pulled him back into a quick yet forceful hug, as if holding him in her arms would confirm she was working herself into a frenzy for nothing.
"Okay, bye." He retreated and dashed out of the house with Tucker. Maddie sighed and eyed her tablet as if it were a predator waiting to attack.
The socialites of the East Coast descended upon the Amity Country Club for the mid-spring soirée. The Mansons had originally intended to host it on their property, but the guest list soon ballooned beyond their "modest" mansion's capacity. So, after a generous donation to the local Parent-Teacher Association to *strongly suggest* rescheduling an event of their own, the country club was booked and bedecked with elegant decor and endless buffet tables. Majestic arrangements of flowers dwarfed every table while tastefully placed strands of lights gave the entire dining area and surrounding gardens a welcoming golden glow. Mrs. Manson had felt the event was missing something, so a new fountain was constructed adjacent from the main steps down to the lawns.
By 7:30 PM, the setting was abuzz with wealthy businessmen, politicians, local families and even a small handful of foreign dignitaries. The valets had their hands full directing limousines one way and whisking private vehicles in the other. One car in particular caught everyone's attention as it sat rumbling in the line of cars: a spotless Lamborghini Urus painted in a bold cobalt blue. Everyone watching knew there was only one guest on the list who was ostentatious enough to show off in such a car, especially one which had only been on the market for weeks: billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne.
"Why couldn't we have taken the Chiron?" Wally asked from the front passenger seat next to Alfred. "The Chiron's way cooler."
"I told you, Wally, it only has two seats!" Dick answered from the back left seat. "You'd have to run, and you're in the wrong kind of monkey suit for that arrival."
"Remember the protocols," Bruce interrupted from next to Dick. "Codeword confirmation first before any sensitive information is discussed with Dick. There's no telling how difficult it will be to tell Grayson apart from Fenton despite our precautions."
"What, like this hideous vest you made me wear?" Dick commented snidely, motioning to the paisley-patterned waistcoat which rivaled the car in its colorfulness.
"Chill, Dick, it brings out the blue in your eyes," Wally commented faux-wistfully.
"I rather agree, Master Dick," Alfred added from the driver's seat as the procession of cars advanced. Dick stuck his tongue out at him from behind the seat.
"Focus," Bruce snapped. "Tonight's singular mission is to get close to Danny Fenton and his closest friends and family to find out more about him. Our goal is also to collect a DNA sample for processing back at the cave. Under no circumstances is he to suspect our true motivations."
"Understood," the boys chorused.
"It is imperative we solve this as quickly as possible," Bruce continued. "The profile we've made of him is not encouraging."
"Was it the terrible grades or low social status that did it for you?" Wally asked somewhat sarcastically.
"The attendance. Frequent absences usually mean one of two things when it comes to our world: shady activity or secret superhero."
Dick's eyes widened. "You don't really think he's Phantom, do you? That would be too weird."
The sparkling Urus finally reached the front of the line where hoards of society journalists were waiting hungrily for news stories. Two club workers opened the rear doors for Bruce and Dick while Wally let himself out, a huge smile on his face at the attention. Bruce's serious demeanor evaporated as cameras began to flash upon his appearance. Dick smiled confidently and strode at his side as the trio walked into the event.
"God, I look so stupid in this," Danny complained.
"I don't think so," Sam responded encouragingly as she straightened his tie. "I think it brings out the icy blue in your eyes."
"But paisley? Seriously?" He grimaced at the cerulean pattern. "This is so Flower Power, Sam. I'm not Flower Power."
"Think of it this way," Tucker interjected from beside them on the bench. "There's no way a socialite like Dick Grayson would be caught dead in something as hideous at that."
"Gee, thanks, Tuck," Danny drawled with an eye roll.
To be honest, all three of them were dressed unusually for their personal style. Danny's pristine tuxedo contradicted his typically laid-back style. Tucker wore a nice all-black suit and tie at Sam's insistence (since it was her parents' party and she would be responsible for her friends' appearance), though he still wore a beret, albeit black as well. Sam herself had exchanged her crop top for an eggplant purple dress with Asian-inspired black detailing that accentuated her figure. Elegant matching gloves ran up to her elbows. Her hair was pulled back into a compact bun with a single straightened strand framing the right side of her face.
"I gotta say we clean up pretty nicely," Tucker commented proudly.
Sam placed a hand on her hip and leaned her weight heavily to one side, doing her best exaggerated impression of a model. "You know it," she said in a deep, sultry voice.
"SAMMIEKINS!"
Sam instantly dropped the pose and facepalmed at the shrill voice. "Lord, take me now," she muttered while her two friends snickered lightly.
Pamela Manson came running up as quickly as she could manage in her excessively high heels. "Come on, Bruce Wayne just arrived!" she stage-whispered. With a quick, gleeful smile at the boys, Pam grabbed her daughter's wrist and pulled her away.
"And so it begins…" Danny sighed and leaned forward in his seat. As he stared off after Sam, he began to grit his teeth and nervously wring his hands together.
Tucker looked up from his PDA and noticed his friend's anxiety. "Dude." Danny didn't seem to hear him. "Danny? Hello? Danny!"
Danny snapped out of whatever spell had been cast on him and looked at his hands. He slapped them to his thighs and wiped the gathering sweat away from his palms. "Sorry."
"Danny, we're going to figure this out. Okay? Whatever comes, we're in it together."
Danny opened his mouth to say something but closed it and mutely nodded instead.
"What is it, Danny?"
"I mean, it's just…" He sighed again. Tucker moved closer to him on their bench at the border of the tables and dance floor. "Everything I think I know about myself could change; it could all have just been a lie. I could have a twin, a whole other family, or somehow a clone replaced one of us… If we're not just simple doppelgängers, that means there's a huge secret that's been overshadowing my whole life."
"Yeah, that would suck since we have no experience whatsoever dealing with that kind of secret," Tucker quipped with a half-smirk. Danny looked at him worriedly for a second before settling into an uneasy smile. Tucker threw an arm around him and pulled him into a half-hug. Danny reciprocated with a light chuckle. The two teens looked up at the distant appearance of their targets for the evening. "Go on, it's showtime."
Danny stood and placed a miniaturized version of the Fenton Phones into his ear. He began making his way through the crowds, grabbing a flute of sparkling apple juice as he went to blend in amongst the adults with their champagne. Tucker stayed behind on the bench to mess around on his smartphone.
As Danny got close to Dick, he couldn't help but marvel at the resemblance. He also marveled at what a mask and disbelief could accomplish for anonymity, because Dick and Robin were virtually identical apart from hairstyle and dress. Dick Grayson's hair was always very pristinely styled whereas Robin's was looser like Danny's typical style. Tonight, though, Danny had tamed his hair into a classy side-part in order to blend in amongst the millionaires and billionaires present. Unfortunately for him, Dick had chosen the exact same style for the evening. And even worse news-
"Dammit, Sam, he's wearing blue paisley too!" Danny hissed into his earpiece and caught Sam's eye from across the crowd. She was still trapped with Bruce Wayne and her mother.
"How was I supposed to know?" she growled back.
"Great," Tucker quipped sarcastically.
Danny focused on Dick again, taking a large gulp of his drink as he did so. The boy in question was standing near the buffet in a circle of teens, quite a few coming from Casper High, who were all fawning over him either romantically or as bro-like as possible. Dick was grinning smugly and apparently basking in the attention while a familiar-looking redhead stood at his side incessantly rolling his eyes. Danny couldn't quite hear their conversation, but he watched as they frequently laughed at whatever stories Dick was telling.
"You're staring."
"GAH!" Danny jumped at the voice beside his ear and saw Sam smirking at him. "What the heck, Sam!"
"I finally slipped away from Mom. You need to be a lot more subtle. You'll never be a secret agent at this rate."
"I never wanted to be a secret agent," he grumbled.
"So what are you waiting for? Go talk to him."
"What am I supposed to say?"
"What we rehearsed!"
"…We rehearsed?"
Sam scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You were spacing out this afternoon, weren't you."
"Maybe I was," Danny conceded.
"Just introduce yourself and say, 'Hey, you look really familiar! Do I know you?' and go from there."
"I can't just walk up to him, not when he's surrounded by all the A-Listers!"
"Then let's get closer and wait for an opening." She looped her gloved arm through the elbow of the arm holding his drink and gracefully maneuvered closer to the circle of popular kids.
"…So my foot's totally stuck in there, right? I'm freaking out, the dog's having a seizure and I still got half a pie left," they overheard Dick saying as they approached. "So I finally just told Wally, 'I TOLD you she's allergic to rhubarb!' " Everyone in the circle broke into hysterics while a redhead at Dick's side flushed in embarrassment. "And then we were all just dying—literally, in the dog's case…"
Sam rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, he sounds like a jerk," she whispered to Danny. Their backs were to the other teens as they pretended to graze the hors d'oeuvres.
"Not as much as the people who think that's funny," he muttered back and bit forcefully into a stuffed olive.
"Excuse me?" a woman asked from beside Sam. Danny frowned in confusion when he realized she was looking directly at him. He looked to Sam for direction, but she was just as confused. "Sorry to interrupt," the woman said to Sam. "I'm Vicki Vale. I was wondering if I could get a quote for the Gazette?"
"What Gazette?" Danny asked.
"The Gotham Gazette, obviously," she replied.
"But…why me?"
"Surely that goes without saying," she replied. "As an inhabitant of one of the most supervillain-ridden cities and a frequent kidnapping target, your presence at a post-attack benefit won't go unnoticed."
Danny became even more confused. "We don't have supervillains here, do we?" he asked Sam. She shrugged helplessly.
"I'm talking about Gotham, Mr. Grayson."
Suddenly, their conversation made sense. "I'm sorry, Ms. Vale, but you must be confusing me with somebody else. I'm Danny Fenton; I live here in Amity."
"You're not Dick Grayson?" Vale asked suspiciously. She looked him up and down. "You certainly look like him."
"Well, the kid you're looking for is right over there." He pointed to the group of teens who had gravitated towards a waiter carrying a tray of bruschetta.
"My apologies, Mr.—uh—Fenton, was it?"
"Yeah. Don't worry about it." He smiled kindly and shook her hand. As soon as her back was turned, his smile dropped.
"Excuse me?" another female voice piped up. Sam and Danny turned around. Another blonde woman stood with a microphone in hand and cameraman at her side. "Cat Grant, GBS News. I was wondering if you would like to share your thoughts about-"
"I'm still not Dick Grayson. He's over there," Danny interrupted with an annoyed frown and jabbed thumb in Dick's general direction.
"Oh…sorry," Ms. Grant apologized and immediately made a beeline for the other teens.
"Well, we're definitely not crazy," Sam said. "You two sure must look identical."
"Hello, little badger," a smooth voice oozed. Dick ignored it and continued typing on his smartphone. There was a sigh before a hand roughly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. "Rather rude to give your benevolent mayor the silent treatment, hmmmmm?"
"Excuse me?"
The two appraised each other. The man's silver hair shimmered under the criss-crossing string lights. A tuxedo hugged the man's figure in such a way that only a bespoke creation could. His sloping, hawk-like nose and deep-set indigo eyes expressed boundless condescension for anyone and everyone who crossed paths with this man.
"Vladimir Masters," Dick replied curtly to the man who sat at the top of Bruce's watch list.
"That's certainly a step up from your usual pet name, though you won't hear me complain, will you, Daniel?" he said with a confident grin.
'So this old creep thinks I'm Danny. I wonder what he wants?'
"Certainly not. Though, I'm surprised; I would have thought complaining is something you excel at."
" 'At which you excel,' my dear boy…but yes. What on earth motivated you to come to an exclusive event such as this?"
"Oh, you know…the usual."
"What, public spirit? Altruism? Looking out for the little guy?" Vlad asked mockingly. "What rubbish."
"Gasp!" Dick spoke with faux offense. "A mayor who cares not for his citizens? I am surprised."
"I do hope I have sufficiently trampled your scruples. Might I take this opportunity to remind you that my offer still stands?"
"Which one was that again?"
"Oh, please. You know as well as I that my empire is still in need of a successor."
"Is it, now? Well, golly gosh goodness, isn't that just tempting."
"I'm surprised you haven't mentioned the disownment or 'evil apprenticeship,' past which you never seem able to progress. Does this mean you're finally coming round, Daniel? Or are you still disgruntled over those minute details?"
"Oh, don't worry, I'm very *gruntled.* But you keep saying 'Daniel,' which leads me to believe you have the wrong person…" Dick suggested.
Vlad's unflappable confidence faltered. "What?"
"Dick! There you are, my boy," a sultry voice called. Dick and Vlad both turned to see an approaching Bruce Wayne. "Ah, good evening, Vlad. I see you've met my ward, Richard Grayson?" He affectionately grasped Dick's shoulders while the boy smirked triumphantly.
Vlad spluttered. "Richard? So this isn't-"
"Who did you think I was, Mr. Masters?" Dick asked innocently.
"But you look just like-" Vlad trailed off and glanced around the party, his eyes falling onto a particular teen speaking with the Mansons' daughter.
"Don't I just?" Dick replied, following his gaze. "I have to go find my friend Wally and make sure he's not too bored. Have a nice evening, Mr. Masters!" And with a smile, he disappeared into the crowds.
"Are you enjoying yourself, Vlad?" Bruce asked.
"What?" Vlad said and returned his attention to the billionaire standing before him. "Oh. Yes, indeed. Your ward certainly banters easily."
"Yes. Comes with the job, I suppose."
Vlad's eyebrow quirked. "What job is that?" he asked, his mind jumping immediately to that of Danny's alter ego.
"A socialite, of course!" Bruce answered with a laugh. "I'm headed to the bar for another Long Island. I've only had three and I've been here a whole hour already. See you around!"
"Yes, indeed," Vlad muttered absently, but Bruce was already gone. Two perfectly identical teens occupied the aging billionaire's thoughts. He glanced from Daniel to Dick, and back again. 'Of course it was him. Just my luck, it would be him…'
Regardless of how much he adored the spotlight, Wally still exhausted himself quickly pretending to be interested in 'snobby rich people things.' He successfully abandoned Dick to the clutches of a scheming local Latina with a penchant for pink and maneuvered himself around the groups of social climbers. Wally found a bench with a sole teen on it, an African-American boy in a suit with black Converses and beret. The boy seemed totally engrossed in his smartphone, so Wally sat down heavily and leaned on the arm of the bench for support.
"What're you in for?"
Wally started at the sudden question from the boy next to him. He chuckled lightly and replied, "Supporting a friend. You?"
"Supporting a friend."
"Nice." The two boys nodded lazily in understanding of each other. "Name's Wally."
"Tucker." They shook hands before Tucker returned to whatever he was doing on his phone.
"Sweet. So which poor sap are you here for?"
"My friend Danny."
"Wait…Danny Fenton?"
Tucker looked up. "Yeah, what's it to you?" he asked suspiciously.
"Oh, nothing," Wally replied hastily. "I, uh, just met him. Nice kid. Seems…preoccupied."
"Yeah, that's why I'm here. Although I think Sam's doing a better job right now."
"Sam?"
"Our other friend. The walking Hot Topic advertisement." Tucker gestured over to the other side of the dance floor where a dark-haired girl stood at the periphery of a group of adults, doing her best to be a human embodiment of indifference. "What about you?"
"Dick Grayson."
Suddenly Tucker bolted upright on the bench. "You're here with Dick Grayson?"
"Uh…yeah?"
Before Tucker could come up with a diversion, a black-haired boy in a tuxedo with blue paisley accessories stumbled past the closest group of people and approached the bench.
"Hey, Dick/Danny," Wally and Tucker greeted in unison.
The boy's brow furrowed in confusion. "Um…"
"Frozen hearts?" Wally asked hopefully.
"What, are you gonna start singing 'Let It Go' or something?" he snapped back. So this was not Dick. The newcomer turned to Tucker. "I'm getting nowhere with the Grayson kid," he continued while Tucker tried to subtly shake his head, making a slicing motion across his throat. "Kid's slipperier than a reanimated hot dog. Plus, he acts like a rich snobby prick."
Wally tried to suppress a snort at the new arrival's words. He typed a quick text to Dick.
Wally: May be onto us or investigating himself. Friend Tucker involved and girl Sam
"Danny, this is Wally, a friend of Dick Grayson," Tucker responded with heavy implication in his tone. Realization dawned on the newcomer's face. This was definitely Danny. In fact, Danny showed signs of recognizing Wally too, now that he had registered Wally as one of Dick's friends. Wally's phone buzzed.
Dick: Acknowledged
"Oh…sorry," Danny said and nervously drank the rest of his sparkling juice as he glanced around the party. "You known him a while?"
"Oh, yeah, we go way back," Wally answered.
Before Danny could ply further as Wally suspected he would, an almost identical boy appeared with far greater grace than the first. He too wore a tuxedo with an almost identical set of blue paisley accessories. He stood at Danny's side to join the growing group.
"Frozen hearts?"
"Savage obstacles," Dick replied, and Wally sagged in relief. "Man, that Paulina chick is crazy," he complained, earning a chuckle from Danny. Wally and Tucker, however, were simply staring at the two side by side now that they had a chance to look.
"What?" they asked in unison. Danny and Dick glanced at each other.
Both Wally and Tucker individually knew that Dick and Danny looked similar; it's what had brought them all here this evening, after all. But seeing them together in person was a different sensation entirely, especially since their chosen attire and hair styles practically mirrored each other this evening.
Danny, of course, immediately searched Dick's eyes for any semblance of recognition so he could confirm his suspicions of Robin and Dick being one and the same. There maybe was a brief glimmer, but surprise soon overtook Dick's face. "You look really familiar…" he commented offhandedly. Danny couldn't be sure it was an act, but it was a good one if it were.
"Uh, yeah, so do you…"
"Maybe it's because you LOOK IDENTICAL," Tucker interrupted loudly. The two raven-haired teens looked at him before stepping back and giving each other a thorough once-over.
"Smoooooth, Tucker," Sam hissed in their earpieces.
"There you are!" a shrill voice exclaimed from behind Dick. Paulina materialized and waved excitedly at Danny who frowned with confusion and waved weakly in reply. Paulina ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck before very obviously striking an attractive pose which accentuated her curves. Danny blushed profusely while the other boys present couldn't help but smirk at the teen who now looked very afraid.
"Um, I think you have the wrong guy, Paulina," Danny replied and gently removed her arms from his neck. At her confused expression, he continued, "I'm Danny. Danny Fenton?" He nodded towards the boy standing behind her. "That is Dick Grayson."
"Wait…" She turned around, eyes going wide before she turned back to the first boy. "Fenton?!" Paulina practically screeched, all flirtatiousness gone. "What are you doing here? And since when do you have a twin?"
"You tell me," he answered, giving Dick a discerning gaze.
"Hey, it's news to me," he said with an innocent shrug.
"But—this is impossible!" Paulina continued, her voice raising as she looked between them. "There can't be two of you! You're too much of a loser freak to look like someone as rich and powerful and cool as Dick Grayson!"
Her insult garnered her the attention from people nearby. One by one, the people nearby began to see Dick and Danny's resemblance now that they were standing side by side. Their conversations gave way to shocked murmuring. Danny looked around guiltily as the focus of the event seemed to immediately shift onto him and his doppelgänger. Soon, the two boys were surrounded by guests as cameras began to flash.
"Just great, the media will have a field day with this," Dick grumbled.
"At least that's all you'll have to deal with when you go home. I live here," Danny said in reply. His eyes locked onto Sam as she muscled her way into the circle.
"Danny, what's going on?" she demanded of Dick.
"Wrong kid, kiddo," Wally replied over the growing clamor of the crowd. He gestured to the real Danny.
"Your paisley idea really helped, thanks, Sam," Danny quipped sarcastically. Sam groaned and rolled her eyes. Dick's eyebrow quirked.
"Is he a lost Grayson?" a woman asked from nearby.
"Is he a lost Fenton?" the man next to her replied.
"There's no way Fenturd is related to him!" a dashing blond teen shouted with a dramatic sweep of his hand.
"Can we talk?" Danny quietly asked Dick. He nodded discreetly, and both looked to their respective companions for help. Wally, Sam and Tucker all caught the hint.
"Alright, people, let's give them some room," Tucker spoke loudly and stood to shove his way through the crowd. Danny and Dick followed in his microscopic wake until they broke through.
"Come on, this way!" Danny instructed and made a break for the gardens. Dick kept up easily until they slowed to a stop on a nearby grassy knoll overlooking the party. They stood there silently for a moment, appraising each other.
"So…that happened," Dick began.
Danny chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I guess it did. I'm not used to having all the attention on me. Well, not-…uh, nope, never."
Dick noticed his verbal stumble but didn't comment on it. Danny was hiding something. "So, did you never realize you look like me before?"
"No, not until last week. Some…*people*…pointed it out."
"Oh yeah? Who?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
Danny shrugged and took out his phone, opening his selfie with Robin. He watched Dick's reaction closely through side eyes. There was surprise, but it seemed slightly delayed. Exactly the sort of reaction one would have when acting.
Just like Danny has done countless times because of his antics as Phantom.
"Whoa! You met Robin?"
"Most of their sidekick team, actually."
"Protegé," Dick muttered, intending only for himself to hear.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," he answered slightly too quickly. "So, what did you think of them?" Dick continued in a somewhat leading tone.
Danny, being a teenage boy with strong suspicions and a rare opportunity, couldn't help but grin at the chance to make Dick squirm if he truly was Robin. "Oh, they were nice enough, considering I did accidentally break into their super-secret base. The archer chick was way too suspicious for her own good. Aqua-dude is less emotional than my math teacher. And Kid Speedy-" Dick inwardly cringed on Wally's behalf "-was cool. Very cool. Robin, though…" He sighed and shook his head, inwardly jumping for joy at Dick's minorly hurt expression.
"Wha- why? What's wrong with Robin?" Dick prodded.
"Dude has a stick up his butt. Honestly," Danny replied, "kid needs to chill every once in a while. I thought they'd get it that I didn't want to be there any more than they wanted me there, but the way he acted, it was as if I was a villain. But then, the *strangest* thing: as soon as we left, he started acting all buddy-buddy and even wanted to take a selfie with me! I mean, what all that was about?" he finished rhetorically.
Dick shrugged noncommittally.
"I feel like he could be a nice guy underneath the suit, though. Actually," Danny chuckled, "he sort of looks and sounds like you too. Or, well, I guess…*us.*"
"What is he doing?" Sam hissed at Tucker as they watched the two boys running off into the garden.
"I don't know," Tucker whispered in reply. "Do you think he'll just ask Dick if he knows anything?"
"I sure hope he knows better than to do that. What are we gonna do? This isn't at all going according to plan!"
"The media having a field day certainly won't help anyone." Tucker warily observed the multitude of reporters researching or talking on their phones while cameramen stood by glancing through photos and video.
"Hey, guys!" Wally interrupted with a plate of snacks in hand. "So you're Danny's friends?"
"Uh, yeah," Sam replied with false nicety. "Best friends."
"Sweet. So am I with Dick. Kid's a bit serious sometimes, but a nice guy underneath that costume." His face froze in horror.
"Costume?" Sam prodded.
"Uh, you know…" He shrugged. "Snobby rich ward? Socialite? Why, uh, what did you think I meant?"
'Gotcha,' Sam thought. She said aloud, "Oh, I see what you mean. I dunno, I thought you were gonna say he was, like, a…*superhero* or something."
Wally's grin could not be more false if he tried.
Screams interrupted Danny and Dick's conversation. Both boys' heads whipped back to the party where a glowing figure hovered near the buffet. Immediately, Danny's ghost sense went off, though Dick was fortunately looking away.
"What's going on?" the rich socialite asked.
"Ghost attack! One of the joys of living in Amity Park. Stay here; you'll be safe. I'll find help." Danny ran off into the bushes. Dick's phone buzzed.
Wally: You seeing this? You alone?
Dick: Yes to both
No sooner had he sent it than a gust of wind heralded the arrival of Wally next to him. "Dude, I don't think I'm cut out for being a super-spy in addition to being a superhero."
"News to me," Dick quipped, earning a brief glare from the speedster as they watched the party.
"But dude, those three are definitely onto us. Their questions are too…specific. And…I may have accidentally said you're cool underneath the costume."
"Wally!"
"I passed it off as a metaphor, okay?! Pretending to be a rich snob to hide the softie within or whatever? Now what are we going to do about the floating-glowing monster thing attacking the party?"
"I have no idea."
"What happened to Fenton?"
"He ran off as soon as we heard the screams."
"Think he's your superhero after all?" Wally asked somewhat jokingly.
At that moment, a second glowing figure streaked across the sky from the direction Danny had run in.
"Considering the timing of his disappearance and the local hero's arrival…I'd say it's a possibility again. C'mon, let's get a closer look."
The two sprinted back to the party, where a wrestling match ensued. Most of the guests had scattered, going to the edges of the soirée setup or running inside for shelter. However, most of the locals were familiar with how these fights went down and knew that Phantom actively protected them from harm, so they didn't mind hovering a little closer than actually safe to watch.
The attacking ghost was widely recognized as the Lunch Lady who had taken offense at the upper class' wide array of cuisine choices for the buffet.
"Hey, why don't we *meat* in the middle here and figure out a way to stop terrorizing these guests?" Phantom shouted as he phased out of a pile of gourmet sliders.
"You have no right to interfere, ghost child!" she roared, then offered sweetly, "Chicken kabobs?"
"Pass." Phantom instead rocketed towards her, but she expertly dove out of the way before coming to a stop right in front of Dick and Wally. Her eyes widened dramatically.
"But you're-?" she began and allowed her eyes to dart towards Phantom to seemingly reassure herself he was still there. She turned back to Dick and scowled.
"Hi?" he offered.
"Get away from him!" Phantom side-tackled the woman into the fountain basin where the meat disintegrated around her. She fought back, a surprise kick smashing his nose as he sailed backwards. Phantom landed against a large planter looking slightly out of sorts. A small amount of ectoplasm dribbled from his more-than-likely dislocated nose. Frowning, the hero wiped it from his face and stood.
While Phantom returned to the flight, Dick noticed a drop of the ectoplasm shining against the polished dance floor. He nudged Wally's arm and handed him a DNA sample kit. As Dick subtly gestured to the spot, Wally nodded in understanding. The speedster's crouched form flickered before holding out a glowing Q-tip in a plastic baggie. The two boys fist-bumped in victory.
Phantom used a distraction to uncap his thermos—identical to Danny's, Dick noted—and trap the aggressor inside. An uneasy peace descended onto the crowd as they withdrew from hiding and looked on at Phantom. The ghost teen in question slowly turned around to face everyone, glancing repeatedly at Dick and Wally. "Um…sorry about the mess, everyone." He chuckled sheepishly and vanished.
After a beat of silence, Pamela Manson stepped up to a podium and microphone on a riser. "Good-"she cleared her throat "Good evening, everyone." The guests slowly materialized from their various hiding places and created a scattered crowd. "It brings me great peace of mind that everyone has survived this villainous assault virtually unscathed. While this is something to celebrate, I would remind you that it is only the latest in a long series of incidents plaguing our community."
Dick noticed Danny weaving amongst the guests to rejoin Sam and Tucker.
"Our world is under attack, and we must be thankful to the heroes of the Justice League fighting to protect us. But, let us not forget that not all responsibility must fall on them. Defeating the treat is only the first stage of a super-battle. Our communities are left in near-ruin, left in desperate need of intervention. We simply cannot rely on our superhuman champions to rebuild; Lord knows our local hero *Phantom* certainly doesn't."
At that, Dick scowled. He risked a glance over at Danny who apparently shared his sentiment.
"This is where your generosity comes in," Mrs. Manson continued. "The newly-established Damage and Aftereffect Relief Endowment—DARE for short—exists to 'sweep up' after major fights and aid families in re-establishing their lives. It is only with your donations that we can hope to recover from attacks. Tonight's attack was brief—and the Manson family offers complimentary dry cleaning services to anyone whose clothes were soiled by the ghosts—but tomorrow's? Who's to say? DARE to believe. DARE to persevere. DARE…to donate. Thank you."
Mrs. Manson's speech was met with scattered applause which gradually grew in passion. The shambled remains of the soiree served as an excellent example of what happened regularly around the world and motivated many guests to dig into their deep pockets for the sake of reconstruction. The remaining plutocrats soon followed suit once Bruce Wayne was caught donating a more-than-substantial sum.
But Danny's callus was not lost on Dick and Wally. The local boy sulked away with a glower. His two friends made to follow, but he waved them off. Dick nudged Wally and said, "I'm going to go see what's bothering him."
It wasn't hard to trace Danny. Dick skirted around the recommencing party and found him on the bench where Wally had met Tucker. Danny's face rested in his palms, and his elbows dug into his knees. "Hey, other me," Dick greeted lightheartedly.
Danny's eyes closed momentarily while he took a deep, slow breath. "Hey," he finally managed. "You didn't get hurt, did you? During the—during the fight?"
"Nah, I'm fine," Dick answered with a flick of his hand. He plopped down next to Danny. "Been through worse. But it was cool to see up close."
"Dangerous though. Don't you know to stay back?"
"Eh, I was never one for sitting aside," Dick said with a secretive smile. He sobered then continued, "So what did you think of what that Manson lady said?"
"Rebuilding after a big fight is important, sure."
"But you didn't look like you agreed much back there," Dick prodded.
Danny sighed. "I wis—I mean, I would prefer-" He hesitated at Dick's reaction to his sudden change of words. "We've had problems with a genie ghost. Better not to say 'wish' around here. Anyway, I think our local hero deserves more credit than he gets from a lot of the locals."
"I don't know, though," Dick countered. "I mean, hostage situations, serial robberies, regular public endangerment…?"
"All of those are explainable," Danny nearly growled. "Phantom does a lot more to help this town than most people realize. If he were to take a break, my parents wouldn't know what to do with all the attacks they never even see."
Hearing a commotion, Dick glanced across the event. "Speak of the devil…"
The Fenton parents came barreling through the crowd shouting for the ghost. The locals shook their heads in embarrassment while the visitors appeared bemused.
"Oh, god," Danny moaned and buried his face in his hands.
"Where is it?! Where's the ghost?!" Jack Fenton shouted.
"It's already gone, Dad," Danny droned loudly. His parents' heads snapped in the direction of the bench. Dick glanced between the two generations of Fentons.
"Danny, sweetie, are you alright?" Maddie asked as she ran up. She knelt down in front of Dick and caressed his cheeks before turning his head this way and that. "You didn't get caught in the fight, did you?"
Dick, shell-shocked, nudged Danny into uncovering his face. Danny's eyes widened. "Mom! Stop!" he said. "That's not me!"
"D—Danny?" Maddie looked at Dick again and snatched her hands back as if they'd been burnt. "You're not—but you—?"
"Mom, this is the very rich, very powerful, very embarrassed Richard Grayson," Danny introduced.
Dick tried to brush it off so he wouldn't worry the Fentons about embarrassing him, but he could only manage a half-hearted scoff and flick of his wrist…because of the embarrassment.
"Oh, I am so sorry! You practically look identical!" She laughed. "Nice to meet you, Richard."
"Actually, I prefer Dick."
Danny glared at the immature snort emanating from Tucker's general vicinity.
"The ghost emergency has passed. Mrs. Fenton, I presume?" Dick asked.
"Yes, we're Danny's parents," Jack crowed loudly and shook Dick's hands. "Well, if the ghost has gone, I guess we can head home, Mads."
"Yes! Please. I'll see you later?" Danny said and gave them a pleading smile.
"Ok, enjoy your evening, boys," Maddie said with one final uneasy glance at her son.
"We will," Danny and Dick chorused. They shared a look upon hearing the other speak in sync.
Jack and Maddie did not return home feeling triumphant. Their feet shuffled along the tile, taking Jack to the basement stairs and Maddie to a kitchen cabinet. Not a word was exchanged. Maddie found what she was looking for—an unopened bottle of Merlot—and poured herself a glass. The woman plopped down ungracefully at the kitchen table and rested her chin on her left palm, while the right lazily swirled the glass of wine.
She was not crazy. She was not struggling with post-natal stress or PTSD. Something connected her 'son' to the identical Richard Grayson. But what? Where to start? What questions to ask, and of who?
Her eyes locked onto a single abandoned water glass sitting at the far end of the table. A single bead of condensation trickled down the side. Even from her distance, Maddie could make out the impression of Danny's lips from when he'd taken a sip before leaving for the ball.
"Damn it," Maddie muttered. She chugged the rest of the wine as if it were merely grape juice before slamming the glass back onto the table.
Maddie, brimming with determination, stood from her chair and searched the kitchen until she found the drawer she was looking for, never able to remember where her family kept the storage bags. A sideways thrust of her hip shut the drawer. She ripped open the seal of a gallon Ziploc bag, marched across the kitchen and dumped the excess water out before placing the glass inside the bag. Maddie resealed it and hurriedly scribbled a label on the bag with a Sharpie.
"Damn it all to hell."
Thanks for reading! As per usual, all feedback - including constructive criticism - is loved and welcomed. I love hearing your theories!
Did y'all catch the Drake and Josh reference in one of the party scenes? Apparently there's also a Yu-Gi-Oh reference as well.
For those of you who just can't wait, I have a number of Danny Phantom oneshots already published as well as one Young Justice oneshot. I have a standalone DP/YJ crossover oneshot drafted and another DP oneshot in development, so be sure to follow if you want to know when either of those is going live!
Until next time!
-hiimian