fic: A Night at the Gala
Title: A Night at the Gala
Author: darthbatgirl
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Characters: Kon/Tim, Clark, Alfred
Summary: During a party Tim and Conner find a moment of quiet
Word Count: 1373
Warning: AU, pre-slash, meandering plot
A/N: Written for the DCU remix challenge. For aravistarkheena 's story Moon Rise. I hope it's okay, I felt the plot kind of wandered all over the place.
Connor Kent decided that Gotham City was miserable in the summer. Even at night, the heat was oppressive. Connor hopped out of the carriage and immediately pulled on his collar.
“Don't fidget,” came his father's voice from behind.
Conner looked over his shoulder as Clark Kent stepped out of the carriage behind him. At least he had the common decency to have to pull out his handkerchief and dot his forehead dry. “Remember to stand up straight, don't mumble when spoken too, try to smile pleasantly, and no drinking,” he instructed.
Conner rolled his eyes, “I know. I know. I wasn't raised in a barn you know.”
Conner suppressed a smile as his father pursed his lips. On any other day Clark would have muttered something about Conner being his mother's son, but apparently standing in front of Wayne Manor intimidated even the usually unflappable Clark Kent.
The Manor House was huge and impressive, even craning his neck back, Conner couldn't see the top of it. Even more impressive that Wayne Manor though was the Waynes themselves. It was said that Bruce Wayne owned most of Gotham and was infamous womanizer according to the gossip pages. His sons Richard and Jason were just as well known as their father, weather it was Richard being the youngest member of the board or Jason getting in fights in bars down by the docks. Now Wayne had caused another row and dared to look beyond Gotham and bought the the newspaper that Clark worked for the Daily Planet - right under the nose of Metropolis' own Lex Luthor. Clark's editor had sent him to the Gala that Wayne was hosting in hopes for an interview.
“
Clark had thought it to be a treat to bring Conner along. It wasn't often that Clark had the means to do extravagant things for his son. A newspaper reporter's salary only went so far, so for one night the Kents would rub elbows with Gotham's elite.
Conner hadn't had the heart to tell his father that he had had his own invitation to the Wayne Gala. Almost instantly upon arriving at the university Conner and Tim, the third of the Wayne sons, had become friends. In fact it would be a rare sight to see one of the boys without the other on campus. Tim had practically begged Conner to promise he would come, if only so Tim would have someone he could actually talk to. So when Clark had written him about them both going to the Gala, Conner didn't mention about being invited by one of the Waynes personally.
Clark and Conner joined the mass of people heading into the Manor. Inside the ballroom was ablaze with lights and buzzing with music, and if Conner thought it had been hot outside, the ballroom was sweltering. Men in tuxedos and women in elegant gowns filled the room wall to wall.
Not surprising to Conner, Clark spotted someone he had to get a quote from and quickly disappeared into the sea of people.
Conner nabbed a glass of wine and sipped it as he wandered the ballroom. After a while Conner skirted around mass of people that surrounded Bruce Wayne. Gotham's Prince had a lady on each arm and a drink in hand. He was regal and dashing and Conner could see how he held sway over any room he was in. Unfortunately he wasn't the one Conner was looking for. A couple more laps of the room, and Conner seemed to run into every member of the Wayne family except for Tim. He slipped out the door of the ballroom and wandered down a hall hoping to find Tim.
A crash of glass from a room had Conner jogging down the hall to a small parlor. When he reached the room he saw Tim shoving a man up against the wall and a young girl in a flowered dress shrink back against a far wall, a fearful look on her face.
Conner nearly laughed at the look of surprise and outrage on the man's face. Conner had made the mistake once in underestimating Tim. He didn't have his father's height or bulk, so it was hard to believe Tim was capable of taking down a man twice his size, which Tim used to his advantage. “Boy unhand me!” the man rumbled as he unsuccessfully tried to break Tim's hold. “Do you know who I am?!”
“You are the man who was invited into my Father's home as a guest and decided to act like a cad!” Tim snarled as he tighten his hold on the man.
Before Conner could step in to help Alfred, the family butler, and two big burly men stepped into the room. “Master Timothy, is there something wrong?”
“Mister Collen here had decided to make a fool of himself and tried to take advantage of Miss Smyth here.
Conner stepped out the the way allowing Tim and Alfred to deal with Collen and turned his attention to the girl and walked over to her. “Are you alright?” he asked in a hushed tone.
The girl's eyes darted over to Conner quickly and gave a quick nod. “Why don't I escort you back the the ballroom?” he offered holding up his arm to her. She gave him a grateful smile and took the offered arm.
Conner took her back to the ballroom and made sure she found her family and turned back to find Tim again. Alfred and the two men where escorting Mister Collen out a side door with Tim following after them.
Tim paused as he passed Conner whispered, “Always the shining knight,”
“Meet me on the balcony in the Library,” was all he said, Conner nodded.
By the time Conner found the Library, Tim was already there, sitting on the railing with his feet dangling over the edge, with a plate of finger sandwiches balanced next to him.
It didn't make any sense that the two of them were friends; Conner, a reporter's son from Kansas who was only able to go to school on a scholarship, and Tim the son of one of the most richest families on the east coast, but neither one of them could imagine not having each other in their lives . There was something between them, something neither wanted to give up, but didn't want to label either.
Conner leaned casually against the railing and picked up a sandwich. “The moon is so big,” Conner said softly, almost in awe. It hung huge, low, and beautiful in the sky, whisks of clouds seemed to dance around it. “Though it's brighter in Kansas.”
“That's because of the smoke from the factories here,” Tim said softly. One might have thought Tim had been dismissing the whole matter entirely, he had almost a bored tone to his voice. Conner though, could here the awe that was in his voice, and he could see Tim's fingers curl around an imaginary pencil.
Conner hid a smile. He didn't quite know why Tim hid his love for drawing Maybe sons of wealthy millionaires in Gotham were not allowed to like drawing. Which was a shame. Tim's drawings were breath taking. One of Conner's favorites was of a run down church. With just a pencil Tim was able to convey the age and a sense of history to the building.
“I'll be right back,” Tim said suddenly as he swung his legs back over the railing and headed back into the library.
“Everything all right?” Conner asked as he grabbed the tray of sandwiches to keep them from falling.
“Yeah,” Tim called.
Conner helped himself to half of the sandwiches as he waited for Tim to come out. He didn't even try to hide his smile as he saw Tim come out with his drawing pad. Tim smiled shyly back as he leaned against the wall.
Connor stepped back so to get out of the way, but Tim shook his head, “Stay right there . . . please?”
Conner chuckled and turned back to stare at the moon contently, finishing off the sandwiches with the scratching of Tim's pencil filling the back ground.