“I don’t want to alarm you, but your dead brothers behind you.”
Oh my gosh I’m so sorry I thought I’d already posted the drabble for this!!! Better late than never though right?
Employees who are lucky enough to make it to the upper echelons of Wayne Enterprises - as in the literal higher floor levels where they are in direct proximity to Lucius Fox and whichever-Wayne-is-representing-the-company-now - are taught three very important rules. Rules that aren’t so important to the completion of whatever errand or job position has driven them to the top floors, but rather to the continued good sanity and wellbeing of the individual.
Rule number one: Do not ask Mr Wayne how he managed to get that bruise, or those stitches, or that broken bone this time. Not only is it pointless because you probably won’t believe him (it’s incredible what the wealthy can come up with to do in their leisure time), but it will only waste your time and the time of everyone who’s relying on you to do work as well. Just read the statement leaked to the press like everyone else. Whether you believe it or not is inconsequential to your job performance.
Rule number two: While it is true that there are no stupid questions, there are questions that you will look stupid for going to Mr Fox with. Mr Fox is a busy man and as such his time should not be wasted. If you’re here to ask something you could just as easily ask the employee in the cubicle next to you or your supervisor, please take an abrupt turn and return the way you came.
Rule number three: Timothy Drake-Wayne is not fit for social interaction, nor professional, business interactions, before his second cup of coffee. As such, no meetings will be scheduled with Mr Drake-Wayne before ten a.m. If it’s an emergency, please leave a message with his secretary, or send him an email. He’s remarkably good at responding to those no matter the hour, although there are no promises of intelligibility.
Personally, Tam thinks rule number three should actually be rule number one. Especially after the incident last week, which had led to the formalisation of the aforementioned rules on several printed notices around the top floor offices and a company-wide email memo.
Tim had been running late for work, which meant that of course he’d left his wallet in the car after practically running out before it had even stopped. And because the reason he was running late was that he’d been out doing vigilante stuff with the Red Hood, Jason had been the one dropping him off at work on his way to do whatever it is he does during the day (Tam suspects it has something to do with the drug money she once found in a pair of boots he left at Tim’s apartment, but she doesn’t dare ask). And because Jason is sharp eyed and much more alert in the mornings, he’d noticed the wallet left on the passenger seat as soon as the door had slammed shut behind Tim. So Jason, being impulsive and in the mood to do a good deed for once, had immediately snatched it up and chased after his brother. Right into the lobby of Wayne Enterprises.
Tam had been waiting down there to meet Tim with coffee and an armful of files for him to skim through on the way up to the meeting he was running late for. Unfortunately, the lobby being a busy place, she hadn’t been the only one to witness Jason skidding across the polished floors in Tim’s wake with a wallet in his outstretched hand. Even more unfortunately, the intern who’d stopped to ask her which floor she could find the records department on also happened to recognise the supposedly-dead Jason Todd (Tam doesn’t know why, but Bruce had conducted a thorough investigation and she hadn’t been missing from work the next week so it probably wasn’t because of anything dastardly).
The young woman’s eyes had widened almost comically, her lips moving soundlessly before she managed to say to Tim, “Um I don’t want to alarm you, but your dead brother’s behind you.”
And Tim had been running on less than two hours sleep and not even half a cup of coffe so of course his immediate response was, “Which one?”
Tam had done a lot of damage control that day. Like, the banks trying to hide how much they’d fucked up in the lead up to the financial crisis of ‘07 kind of damage control. Between watching the poor intern being intimidated by her father, getting in touch with someone called Barbara to delete all video footage of the incident and locking Tim in his office for a much-needed nap, she’d (somehow) managed to find time to type up the unwritten rules that the interns these days clearly weren’t being taught. It was in everyone’s best interests.
Just to be on the safe side, she also bought Tim a shirt that said ‘don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee’ and made him wear it into work the next day. Just in case anyone missed the memo.