The first time Scott Summers met Bruce Wayne, he couldn’t say that he liked the man.
True, Wayne was cultured, graceful, charming, yet also had an almost visible air of arrogance surrounded him and all that shit inevitably came with a wealthy upbringing, much like Warren, the only difference was that Warren’s playboy side was simply a way to deal with his piled up frustration and loneliness for the duration and suffer of neglect from his parents. An orphan in essence, just as Scott himself in reality, which brought them extremely close in their years as X-Men. Bruce Wayne, however, hided something dark and mocking behind his playful mask, like a cat intended to take pleasure in watching an unsuspecting mouse before pouncing, or a bat waiting silently in the darkness for the right moment to swoop down and grab its prey.
It was the first thought occurred to him that Bruce Wayne was no less dangerous than any homicidal mutants or world-domination driven psychopaths Scott had encountered, and battled, in his life as an X-Man, on the grand party held in Wayne mansion in Gotham. The professor had received an invitation from the millionaire and as Xavier’s surrogate son and rightful heir it was Scott’s duty to accompany him to the party, though if Scott had anything to say about it he would rather choose to stay back at home and listen to Gambit whine all night about his relationship with Rogue (or lack of it anyway). This kind of banquet made of money, social status and empty smiles always unnerved a born navy brat and later orphan like him. Instead, Scott was standing besides the Professor in the middle of the refulgent banqueting hall, polished marble tiles glittering under the chandeliers, classic paintings hung systematically in the right place of spotless walls to be cast in the soft streams of light and present to the particular eyes of their appreciators, crimson velvet curtains shielded the guests from the outside world. This place was so sumptuous it made Scott feel nauseous and out of place despite his tailored designer black tie and polished shoes, the Professor was pretty well off as well, but Xavier mansion, the place which had become his shelter and a home since he was a teenager, carried an old elegance which was the exact opposite from anything here.
Charles was having a conversation with a middle-aged couple while Scott stood by and listened half-heartedly, calculating the minutes tick away quietly in his head, though the Professor undoubtedly heard his thoughts, judging by he occasionally gave Scott an indulgent smile between his conversations. Scott briefly wondered what other people might think of him, wearing opaque ruby glasses inside a room, yet obviously rich people tended to do weird things in open or private so everyone deliberately ignored anything out of ordinary like the rest of the world when it came to wealth and power.
Scott imagined he was the one and only conscious person amongst the faceless crowd, watching from outside with a nonchalance without interfering. Until he caught sight of the famous host among the blurring of guests, Bruce Wayne, standing off to a convenient corner and wore that classic-yet-disturbingly-annoying half smile of his on his handsome face, in the most elegant and fancy suit even someone like himself who wasn’t so much into fashion could tell. Wayne looked comfortable in his corner, watching his guests peripatetic before him, like a man watching his collections with a cool scientific interest. Clearly, Scott wasn’t the only one who preferred to be an outsider.
And those dark-brown eyes focused on him so suddenly, as if their owner had inner radar to detect attention, even one concealed behind ruby quartz, those eyes were so deep and profound it was almost impossible not to be drawn into them and trapped in a swirl of mysteriously depth, by choice or force, including Scott himself. But the sudden spark flashing in Wayne’s eyes and the curve appeared on his mouth made Scott instantly hyper apprehensive, like a deer just smelled danger before it got caught in the headlights of a speeding car, and Scott wasn’t one normally to feel this way, not as an experienced leader of a band of mutant outlaws and superheroes. Before he could avert his gaze from the mysterious man and find something else to occupy his thoughts, Bruce Wayne already decided to leave his spot and make his way over, obviously finally caught an interesting prey to have a little fun with other than simply watching. Though why he unintentionally opted to describe himself as a prey to Wayne, a guy he barely knew, was a thought Scott didn’t have the luxury to examine right now, because the man was already in front of them, fully expected to be acknowledged by his guests.
The Professor politely exchanged greetings with Bruce Wayne, as unsurprised as always, and introduced Scott to their host, who seemed to be giving donations to the school funds generously according to Charles’ brief mention, which served as a surprise to Scott. After a short conversation with his mentor Wayne smoothly directed his attention towards Scott, his eyes twinkled with unexplained interests, and therefore made Scott unease, though he leveled his eyes with Wayne’s with composure inherited from his bloodline and strengthened by years of continuing training nonetheless. The millionaire was a few inches taller, with a strong jaw line complete his chiseled facial features indicating iron will behind the easy posture, also has a powerful physique even Scott was a little more than envious of.
Scott had always been slender, which earned him the nickname 'Slim' back in the old days, even after so many years of hard practice. Though Scott understood fully well that his strength lay in his mind and will, a few more pounds of muscle wouldn’t hurt a guy like him, and a millionaire playboy had a more fitted build than a fighter seemed to be somewhat like an insult.
Realizing he had paid too much focus on how Wayne looked instead of what the man was talking to him, Scott hastily redirected his attention, and he would bet every last cent he owned that Bruce Wayne was aware of where his stray thoughts had been judging by the barely-concealed amusement hung around the corner of the host’s mouth, and couldn’t fight down a faint blush rising on his cheeks.
"I’ve heard a lot of impressive things about you, Mr. Summers. I would like you to know my admiration for the determination and courage you and your comrades devote to a noble cause." Wayne obviously had tons of experience of how to smoothen a conversation without letting the possible audiences catch up any disturbance, even though just a vague one.
Arching a brow upon hearing the words, Scott felt mildly alarmed. This man couldn’t possibly know…Before he finished this contemplation, the Professor’s voice echoed in his head, whispering the answer. He knows.
How?
I don’t know, he has a guarded mind and I don’t wish to invade without an impending reason, but I didn’t sense any malice from him.
Could it be that he is a mutant?
I don’t think so.
Regarding their host with measured wariness, Scott considered different kinds of answers before carefully replied. "Thank you, Mr. Wayne, it’s our honor to hear such a praise from you. Though I must admit that I’m curious as to how you come to know about…us, not many people do." As well as they shouldn’t. He silently added.
"Let’s just say that I have some useful sources of my own. I merely want to express my admiration for what you do to help create a better world." Extending a broad hand towards him, a look of sincerity replaced the casual one on Wayne’s face, along with the seriousness vibrating in his deep, rich voice sending an unexpected shiver down Scott’s torso, the impact of Wayne’s simple words combined with the man’s unique imposing manner and the incredible warmth he received through their handshaking shook his core when a stranger shouldn’t be capable of. "Not many people are willing to pay the price and do what’s necessary for the right thing. You guys are special."
"…Thanks, we’re honored, Mr. Wayne, it’s nice to know that there are people appreciate what we do." After a brief pause, Scott couldn’t resist but added. "I suppose that you’re just as special in your own way." Even though their host didn’t give them a direct answer, somehow Scott felt that he could rely on this man to keep secret of his identity and the existence of X-Men, though he was not usually one to put such amount of trust in a new face so easily, exceptions happened sometimes when the situation saw it suited, besides, the Professor agreed with him in his head and his mentor was a telepath.
"I suppose I am, indeed." A hint of arrogance resurfaced and replaced the previous seriousness in his tone; however, it didn’t bring out the same annoyance Scott felt at first anymore.
They parted from Wayne mansion some time after their little encounter with its owner, yet in such a short period of time Bruce Wayne had left an indelible impression in Scott Summers’ mind.
The night at the party Scott met Bruce Wayne, he wouldn’t say he liked the man, but then, he wouldn’t say he didn’t like him either.
It was probably the first and last time Scott got to meet the millionaire, and Bruce Wayne would be just like another passer-by in Scott’s life, however a friendly one, or so he had thought.
He never imagined that their course would cross again in the near future, as well as their lives.
Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!