I See I Was Not Alone In My Thought Process That Danny Could Be Elsa. The Extra Add-ons With Tim And

This idea could work with any Danny ship, but I like Dead on Main best for it, so that's what I'mma do. BUT if anyone decides to use this idea using any other ship (platonic or romantic idc) let me know so I can see it!

(this is a prompt btw and anyone can use it)

Jason is Danny's soulmate and vice versa. They've got the soulmarks on their wrists to prove it. When Jason died, the soulmark on Danny's wrist faded - signalling that Danny's soulmate died. When Jason came back to life, so did the soulmark on Danny's wrist.

When Danny dies (aka, whenever he goes ghost) Jason's wrist mimics Danny's state of being. It goes back and forth often enough that Jason can and has used it as a coin flip to make decisions.

DPxDC PROMPT ---- Self-Defense

Danny gets a job in Gotham as a self-defense instructor.

It satisfies his protection obsession, because he's teaching people to protect themselves.

He is teaching at a local gym. Basically, the gym gives classes, and finally decided to institute a bit of self-defense in the curriculum, because it's Gotham, after all. (Don't ask me why they didn't have it before, idk)

And Danny came rolling in with fake credentials, beat the other applicants, and got the job.

Jason has been going to this gym since he returned to Gotham, so he decides, what the hell, might as well try this class. it'll probably be a light, relaxing thing.

Wrong.

The first time Danny and Jason spar to gage Jason's skill level, Jason holds back, so Danny wins, but Danny requests a rematch, because he can tell Jason's not giving it his all.

Five minutes later, Jason is on his back on the mat, gazing up into sky blue eyes, and he hasn't been thrown like this in years. He was too big once he came out of the Pit, and honestly, the fact that this guy can manhandle, flip, and pin all 6' 4'' of him is extremely hot.

Danny is happy because he's fulfilling his obsession. Meanwhile Jason is pining for this man, and Danny is oblivious. Jason is slowly dropping hints of his interest, and Danny is misconstruing them in a platonic context, and Jason is getting to know him and falling more and more in love.

You know what, what the hell, let's add de-aged Dani in too.

One day, Jason follows Danny home. (he's a bat, they don't do boundaries like normal people do.)

He sees him head to an elementary school, and panics because is this perfect soulmate of his, like, a kidnapper or something?

He sees him pick Dani up and resigns himself to following this guy because he might be involved in trafficking thing or something, and then he's duty bound to shoot Danny, which is really quite a pity.

Instead, he sees them go home, and Danny being a good Dad, and he's just like "aaaaahhhh he's a good parent how many boxes can he check that i didn't know i had."

Eventually they end up dating. Don't quite know how it happens, but it does.

Shrodinger's BatCat Child

DP x DC Prompt

When Selina was pregnant with her's and Bruce's child, she was thinking of settling down and raising the child. But when she had given birth to the boy, someone had broken into the hospital and stolen not only her baby but also other babies had been taken from the hospital. She tried to find out who took her baby boy but couldn't find the perpetrator.

Heartbroken at the loss of her baby, Selina masks her grief with being Catwoman. She doesn't tell Bruce about their baby boy, even after the new boy that goes under the Bats wing. She does treat each new Robin as if they were her own son. She talks to Harley about what had happened when Damian comes into the fold, where she then reveals that she had a baby with Bruce to the man and what happened to their baby after a few sessions with Harley.

Danny is on the run from Amity, from the Fentons, from the GIW, and from Vlad. The Fentons found out about him being Phantom and attacked him. They then teamed up with the GIW to hunt him down. He doesn't want to go to Vlad, as the Fruitloop is slowly becoming more and more crazy to get him to become his son and slowly focusing less and less on Maddie.

He heads to Gotham, as the city spirit, when she was chosen to be part of his court because of her knowledge and power, had told him that he was one of hers, a child born in Gotham to a woman that wasn't Maddie, Catwoman, and that's also how he found out that he's the son of Batman as well, because Lady Gotham gave him that answer as well, but she didn't tell him their real names. He just hopes that his mom and dad will be happy to learn that their son is still (mostly) alive and on his way to them.

And then Danny is caught by the Joker. He couldn't put up that much of a fight as he used up a lot of Ectoplasm escaping the lab he was in. Tucker's family moved away during middle school, and so did Sam's family when the start of high school came, Jazz had returned from college to help him escape the lab he was held in, but had to go back if she wanted to keep the scholarship.

The Batfam was having a family day out in Gotham. Bruce and Selina were engaged and wanted to bond as a family. Then Joker began broadcasting across Gotham.

"Hello Gotham! Today, I have a special guest with me"

The camera panned to a boy tied up in a chair, head hanging low.

"Brucie Boy seems to have forgotten to mention that he has another brat to call his own, so I took it upon myself to inform you all about him!"

When Joker grabbed the face of the boy and showed it to the camera, the entire Batfam tensed. Because the boys face had the features of both Bruce and Selina, the cuts, bruises, and blood on the boys face couldn't hide that fact, and now they need to find the boy to save him from what Joker has planned for their son.

continuation from a separate post thread (Danny is Bruce’s clone). Op said the old post got too long, so they made a new one. Had to share the new story. ☺️

Clone Danny long post

The footprints lead Alfred out of the room and to the right but quickly dried up on the short hair carpet.

Alfred checked every room to the right of Danny's. He had to have left the family wing. 40 minutes of searching later, Alfred was about to go down yet another hallway when he heard faint music and metal clanging. He walked closer to the sound until he could make out some words.

🎶I- can hear the sound of violins🎶

🎶long before- it begins🎶

The gym. Someone is at the gym. He told Dick to relax. This is the opposite of relaxing. He stops for a moment outside the door to gather himself. People listen to empathy more than anger. When Alfred pushed the door open and looked down at the workout area, he didn't see a disobedient clown. No. Instead, he was forcibly dragged back to 1989, staring at a 13 year old Bruce doing chest presses. He always looked the most at ease when he was at the gym. The rest of the time, he would be looking for his parents' killer or discovering seacret organizations. Alfred used to cherish the time Bruce spent at the gym because he knew it was the closest he could get to calm. Shortly, Danny put down his 3 kg weights and addressed Alfred.

"Morning, Alfred. Breakfast already? Thought I had more time." He sounded like Bruce, more than just his voice. Danny had his own way of talking, but this was all Bruce.

"Young Master," best not to object to his perceived reality, whatever that may be. "It's almost seven in the afternoon, not morning." The sun would have spoiled that for him anyway. "And dinner will be ready in two hours."

"Oh, ok. I'll be there at nine then." Danny simply went over to the next station in his routine. Right as he sat down on the floor, something seemed to dawn on him. "Alfred? Did something happen to me?" He asked innocently.

Alfred remained frozen, staring at the young boy. "What would give you that idea?"

"I woke up in a different room than usual, I had to switch down all my weights, and the files in my father's office have been moved. And then you came in looking like you've seen a ghost." Ever the detective.

"Nothing gets past you. I'm afraid you had a rather bad fever and spent a few days in bed. I would like to examine your health, but it can wait. Let's say, eight-thirty? Before dinner?"

"Kitchen at eight-thirty, got it."

Alfred left the room and braced himself on the door. He thinks he's Bruce. He probably thinks it's the 80s or 90s, too. It's a good thing most everyone is out hunting down clues and/or committing extreme acts of violence.

Danny had changed into an all black suit (bowtie and kerchief included) before coming to the kitchen at 8:27. Hmm, he does like to be punctual. His temperature and heart rate were normal, for once he didn't have bags under his eyes, which responded in time to light. But, he was definitely younger than he was when he arrived. Dick wasn't imagining that.

"Can you tell me your name, age, and today's date?"

"Bruce Thomas Wayne, 12, almost 13, today is November, uh," He struggled a bit. "17th? Maybe a bit later, 1988." He avoided eye contact. "Just so we're clear, I wouldn't have known today's date even if I hadn't been sick."

Alfred smiled a little, remembering how much he used to care about getting good scores on everything. "I'll be sure to include that in the report." He retorted sarcastically, earning a small grin back. "Now go wash up, dinners almost ready."

As per routine, Alfred started by bringing out the helthiest dishes. They all knew it was a trick to get them to eat vegetables, but no one was ever willing to wait. Danny was so hungry, even the brussel sprouts were appetizing. Now if Alfred could just stop staring at him and actually put the container on the table.

"Alfred?"

"W, what?"

"Are you OK?"

Danny had combed his hair when he'd asked him to wash up. This was Bruce. This was the boy Alfred raised. The one who had fallen asleep in his arms every night for months because he refused to be alone in the dark. The one who used to "forget" to tell Alfred about the handfuls of peanut butter in his pockets, ruining thousand dollars dress pants on six different occasions. The one who wanted to keep street cats knowing full well he was allergic.

"Do you need a day off? Or maybe a week?"

"What? No. I'm alright master Bruce. Just, uhm, glad to see you have your appetite back. That's all." Keep it together now. He set down a steaming glass dish full of baked carrots, sweet potatoes, bell peppers, onions, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower, and mushrooms.

Danny took as big a serving as he could fit (vegetables can only go in the top right on his plate), making sure not to let the butter run too much. The next dish was steamed turnip. Crap. Another vegetable. Can't mix them. Can't put it somewhere else. The only option is to finish the baked vegetables fast.

By the time he finished his quarter of a turnip, six more dishes had already shown up. How many people does Alfred think live here?

At 21:11 Dick walked into the dining room. Dressed in a plain shirt and pants. The two boys looked like they were going to entirely different events.

"Hello." Danny invited. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"This gentleman is detective Richard Grayson." Alfred interjected. "Master Dick, would you care to join us for dinner?"

"Oh, where are my manners? Here, have a seat. There's plenty of food."

The dinner after that was awkward, but nice. It's good to have some company once in a while. Ever since his parents died, it's just been him and Alfred.

He did wake up late in the afternoon, so it shouldn't be such a surprise that he got to stay up and watch his gray ghost VHS tapes way later than his usual bedtime. Only interrupted occasionally by Alfred, making sure he's keeping all that food down. He had to have been really sick. He doesn't even remember throwing up recently.

He must have dosed off at some point because he was awoken abruptly at some horrid hour of the night by an ear pierceing scream. He hurried to its sorce in the family wing where he saw what looked like another Bruce, except this one had white hair and wore a black onesie. He appeared to be melting into a glowing green sludge. Bruce knelt down and grabbed the boy, who stopped screaming. Opting to bury his face in Bruce's chest instead.

Alfred came just as the gruesome scene was over. 4:50 am, same place, same time, every night. Alfred had hoped something had improved when the screaming stopped early. But rather than the typical gorey mess, there was Danny, inconsolable and covered in slime.

"Wh, wh, ah?" Who was that? What was that?? Why was that???

"Master da- Bruce." At lightning speed, Alfred was on his knees and holding Danny. "Come on, you don't have to be here." He tried to lift him up, but Danny resisted.

"...Why do you have the carpet cleaner?" He accused. "Did you know this would happen?"

Meanwhile, Clark is absolutely terrified that the civilian that just bodied him no problem, is now working for his number 1 enemy, Lex Luthor. This may or may not be part of the reason Danny took Lex’s offer. A little harmless payback. 😈

Danny holding a glowing jar: What is this? Clockwork: Oh, that's some human soul I won in a poker game with a few demons. Danny:A human soul? What the hell did you bet that was the same value as a human soul? Clockwork: Your hand in marriage Danny: I BEG YOU FINEST PARDON?! Clockwork: Relax, I won, didn't I? Now I have a neat soul in a jar. Danny: Who does this even belong to? Clockwork:A child. Danny: .....you're giving this back. Clockwork: What? Why? The child wasn't even using it. Danny: I'm taking the soul back. What's the child's name? Clockwork: *Sigh* Fine, ruin my fun. The boy is called Subject 514A. Danny: What kind of name is that? Clockwork: He's a clone of another human child that was experimented on and was never given a personal name. Hence, Subject 514A. His body is currently deteriorating as we speak. If he stays in his current dimension, Death will claim him. Danny: WHAT!? We got to do something! Clockwork: I can't in his current dimension. Death has jurisdiction there as Fate has set that child's life to end. Danny: .....you set this jar out to appeal to my Savior complex and help you get back at Death and Fate didn't you? Clockwork: I KNOW THOSE TWO CHEATED AT CARDS! So I figured stealing one of their little humans and moving him into a nearby dimension a few years ahead would drive them up a wall. They have no power there since the timeline is my jurisdiction! Danny: And I wouldn't let anything happen to Subject 514A, meaning that the world would accommodate the Ghost King and the child under his care. You're using me a pawn in your petty game. Clockwork: You're still going to take that boy and raise him. Danny: Yeah, because I have the body to be a perfect DILF, but that's beside the point! I mean if he's a clone would the orginal be in the new dimension? Clockwork: Yes, but Bruce Wayne would be a full-grown adult with multiple children of his own instead of a sixteen-year-old adolescent like Subject 514A. Danny: Great, a teenager in angst. why not. Clockwork watching Danny leave through a portal to grab his new son: All according to plan. Soon, Wayne will assume Danny is raising his unknown, ill son, and my ship will sail once they get to know each other. he ha he ha he ha.

I don’t have anything to add at the moment, too overwhelmed by the many stories from this post. (my heart can’t take all this angst/fluff) But just has to share.

Danny gets adopted by Bruce Wayne au but consider: Danny was brought up in a loving-if absolutely insane- household where pda and mushy gushy stuff wasn't only said, but expected.

The bats almost never voice thier love for one another, instead showing it in a variety of different ways.

What I'm saying is that Danny keeps nearly killing them by saying "I love you." I'm not even joking. Danny has nearly offed the bats more times in his week staying in wayne manor than any Gotham villian would dare try

Did you lose this?

Inspired by this post.

@emacrow

"Hey, Bats, can I have a word?" John asked as everyone started filling out of the meeting room.

Batman gave him the side eye. "You don't usually come to meetings."

John raised his hands in surrender. "Caught me, I'm really here to ask you a favor."

Batman looked over by the door, where it looked like Superman, Wonder Woman, and the Flash were there waiting for him. But, he turned back to John and asked "What do you want?"

John tried not to cringe at the tone in his voice, telling himself that's just what a tired after meeting Batman sounded like. "I need help with a puzzle box."

John pulled said box out of his coat pocket and held it up for Batman to take, but the man examined it closely without touching it. "What's in it?"

"A world-ending weapon, probably. There's like, a 10% chance it's a world-ending monster." John helpfully provided.

"And you want to open it..."

"Yeah..." John sighed then explained, "It's part of a pair, with this-" John pulled a gear shaped dial puzzle out of his pocket. "But, since I solved this one, that one wont work for me."

"Why do you want to open it?"

"Because, whoever solves the puzzles control it."

"But you've been magically locked out of solving this one." Batman pointed at the box still in John's hand.

"Yeah, so I need someone good at solving puzzles -you- and who's dabbled enough in magic to effect the box -you again- and who I trust not to use whatever's in it to destroy the world."

Batman gave him the patented bat-interrogation glare. "You still haven't explained why you want to release this weapon."

"It's a fail safe. Like the two keys thing governments put in front of their nuclear bombs. According to the texts I read, this isn't the only way to release the whatever-it-is, but once we solve both these puzzles, you and I will have control of it and absolutely no one else can get it." John wiggled the box at Batman. "We do this now, we don't have to pray I can track down all the alternate methods, and neither of us can use it without the other's permission."

Batman closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You're certain this is the best method to ensure the safety of as many people as possible?"

"Yep."

"And you're certain I'm the right person you want as the other half of your fail safe? Not another magic user?"

"I feel the degree of separation will be useful in determining what situations call for using a world-ending weapon."

Batman let another deep sigh and took the puzzle box.

"You two staying late?" Superman asked as John and Batman sat back down at the table. Him, Wonder Woman, and the Flash came over to check on them.

"Sorry, we can get dinner together another time." Batman said without taking his eyes off the box. Each side had nine squares, each with a rune on them that glowed when pressed. There was a pattern, John was sure, but after he'd solved the dial puzzle, the runes where blurred and the squares didn't light up when he pressed them.

"How long do you think your puzzle thing will take?" Flash asked, looking over Batman's shoulder as he seemed to solve the puzzle quickly. Or so John hoped, again, he couldn't actually see what kind of progress Bats was having.

"Ten minutes, tops." Nightwing interrupted. Batman did glance at him, but then went right back to work on the box. "We still have plenty of time to go to Bobby's before closing."

"I thought you had better things to do?" Superman asked.

"And pass up on burgers with you? Never." Nightwing said with a wink. "Is John joining us when this is done?"

"I'll have to take whatever comes out of the box back to the house of Mystery." John said, though burgers did sound good at the moment.

Silence lapsed into the room as they watched Batman work. And ten minutes later, it was done. The puzzle box glowed and one of it's faces folded into itself, leaving a hole shaped just like the gear puzzle. Batman held it out and John dropped the gear into it. The room filled with a bright flash, and once it faded, sitting on the conference table between John and Batman was a toddler. He had black hair and bright blue eyes and freckles scattered across his face. He reached out a little hand towards them and started babbling.

"Fuck."

Amity Parkers are Kryptonians in the same way a de-feathered chicken is a man.

Summary; Clark's pretty sure the new intern, Samantha Manson, is secretly a Kryptonian.

But this isn't about him.

This is about Sam and her new, more interesting than Danny coworker; Jimmy Olsen.

~~~~~~

It was Sam’s first day as an Intern at the Daily Planet, and she’d found someone very interesting.

"Who is...Jimmy Olsen. What is Jimmy Olsen?" Sam muttered into her recorder as she watched the man in question hang upside down from a thirteenth story window, just to take a good picture of...something. A bird or a plane or someshit. 

"I hypothesize that the man is a freak," she continued, turning around and missing the bird-plane streak by in a blur of red and blue, "A level of freak I intend to meet."

~~~~~~

Jimmy had four arms now, as well as terrifying mandibles and way too many eyes.

Sam diligently took notes, making sure to translate his horrified, garbled screams as well as she could.

Unfortunately, Superman swept in and managed to nab the mad scientist and douse Jimmy in the cure at pretty much the same time.

~~~~~~

Sam was using her strength, as a human so contaminated with Ecto she was liminal, to hold Jimmy Olsen in the air by the ankle with one hand. The other hand? Was punching aliens in the face and yanking their weapons out of their hands.

Not that he was aware she was doing that, because he was so distracted with getting the perfect camera shot of the alien invaders of the week that he’d missed the one’s trying to sneak up on him.

Honestly, most of Sam’s concentration was on not squeezing her hand.

She didn’t want to break any bones, after all.

It was right as that thought passed her mind that Superman appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and scared the shit out of her, resulting in…her squeezing her hand.

Jimmy was in a cast for far longer than it took her or anyone else from Amity to recover from something as small as a broken bone.

~~~~~~

It was Tuesday, and true to form, Jimmy had been kidnapped.

Sam, as she had the past seven Tuesdays, made sure she was taken along for the ride. She’d even had to knock out the teeth of the head kidnapper to convince them that, as most people already knew, ignoring Samantha Manson was a terrible idea.

The kidnappers had let her in the van, refusing to meet her eyes. When she insisted they tie up her wrists, a few of them started crying, so she didn’t push it.

The entire drive to the typical decrepit warehouse, the kidnappers kept looking back at her and flinching. 

Wussies.

But she could put up with them being babies; as long as she got to study the enigma that was Jimmy, it was fine.

What wasn’t fine was the fact that when Superman swept in to save Jimmy Olsen again, the kidnappers pointed at Sam and said she’d kidnapped them.

“I only knocked out a few teeth, so what? They’ll grow back, it’s not a big-!”

“Oh, I get it now. No. No, Miss Manson, human adult teeth don’t grow back.” Superman said gently, going from aggressively confused to pitying.

Sam broke her hand on his jaw in response; she hated people pitying her. Also, she was more than a little embarrassed that she’d forgotten non-liminal people were slightly limited in the amount of teeth they could have.

Her hand healed in the normal amount of time for a person from Amity Park; two whole days.

~~~~~~

Jimmy was looking at her over their desks, trying to be sly about it.

Sam was pretending not to notice, slowly growing more and more annoyed.

“...Is there a problem?” She finally asked, slowly looking up to meet Jimmy’s eyes.

“How did you not shatter your hand when you punched Superman? Why do you think ‘human’ teeth grow back?” Jimmy responded, almost like those questions had been waiting on the tip of his tongue for who knew how long.

“I didn’t shatter my hand because I wasn’t actually trying to hurt him, and the other one…I made a mistake.”

Jimmy hesitated, pursing his lips and seeming to take a moment to think.

“So…if you tried to punch Superman, and you meant to hurt him, do you think you actually could?”

Sam leaned back in her chair, giving the question some thought.

Superman was notorious for being weak to magic, and liminality was just another form of death magic. Granted, it was a form of death magic so strong it mutated the living, but magic was magic.

“First off, I don’t fight for a living,” Sam started, shrugging; her days as one of Team Phantom were long past. “I used to, but I don’t anymore, so I’m not as…fighty, I guess, as Superman. But I could probably give him a black eye, if he was nice enough to let the punch land after letting me wind up.”

“Oh.” Jimmy said, voice slightly higher than normal. “Well alright then.”

“Yup.”

“So where are you from again?”

“Classified.”

~~~~~~

Jimmy, true to Jimmy form, had a new…situation.

It was Friday, and apparently he was being possessed by a minor god.

A minor god that was not cooperating.

“It’s a simple series of questions, and I realy don’t know why you’re fighting me on this.” Sam groaned, valiantly resisting the urge to throw her notepad at possessed Jimmy’s head.

“Please. I just want to go back to my realm, I won’t bother people in this one anymore, I just-”

“What are you the god of? What is your name? What was the purpose of possessing Jimmy Olsen? Why did you target Jimmy Olsen?” Sam reiterated, as she had been for the past seven hours. “Is Jimmy Olsen a beacon of some sort? Is there a curse on JImmy Olsen?”

Sam paused, a new thought occurring to her with such suddenness she gasped.

“Wait, is…is this an attempt to woo Jimmy Olsen?!”

“Please. Please just let me go!”

“Just answer the questions or I start pulling fingernails!”

“If you torture me in this form, the boy will also suffer!”

“First off, he’s a grownass man. Second, he’s a freak so he’ll be fine. Probably. Fingernails grow back anyways, it’s barely a pinch for humans, it doesn't hurt at all.”

“Miss Manson, please don’t refer to Mister Olsen as a freak. Also, you’re getting confused about human limitations again.” Superman added politely, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“No, I’m not! I googled it! Human fingernails grow back!” Sam spat, shrugging out from under the Man of Steel’s grip.

“Ma’am, your misjudging human limitations concerning pain.” Superman explained, strained but patient.

Sam paused.

Sam took a moment to remember two days ago, when Perry bumped his foot into one of the desks and spent a whole hour cursing.

All that just for a broken pinky toe.

“...Fine. You…might have a point.”

~~~~~~

The GIW sat across from Sam in a meeting room at the Daily Planet.

Apparently, dodging her court-mandated meeting with them by not going to her apartment just meant they’d turn up at her place of work.

Charming.

“And you’ve intruded on my basic rights because…?” Sam started the meeting, unimpressed.

“We have been trying to reach you for mandatory debrief for the past three months, Miss Manson. You know why.” Agent Tweedledee said, deadpan.

“Ugh. No, I haven’t  told anyone where I’m from. No, I haven’t used my powers in front of anyone. No, I haven’t broken any of your stupid, nonsensical rules.” Sam droned, tallying each point with a finger.

“Interesting. Our sources say they caught you…holding a grown man upside down with one hand.” Agent Tweedledee countered, also looking as bored as Sam felt.

Sam said nothing, continuing to stare at the agents.

“After which you crushed his ankle,” Agent Tweedledum added, pushing a folder with Jimmy Olsen’s X-Rays towards her.

“I don’t think you having these X-Rays is HIPAA compliant,” Sam said, pushing them back.

“I don’t think you understand how big of a security risk having you, any of you, blending in with normal humans is,” Agent Tweedledum said, pushing them right back at her. “And if this is how you’re going to try to ‘blend in’, then maybe we need to pull this initiative back. What’s next, casually flying to reach something on a tall shelf?”

“Indeed,” Agent Tweedledee said, leaning forward to get in Sam’s face. “Perhaps it would be better if the lockdown was re-initiated. An entire town of people like you…it’s too dangerous to just let you wander-” 

“Excuse me!” Clark Kent said, popping his head into the meeting room. Sam took a brief moment to clock that his eyes were glowing a little reddish, but otherwise he seemed normal.

Stressed, but normal.

“You are intruding-”

“I was just wondering if you had a warrant?” Kent cut in, blinking his eyes and readjusting his glasses. When he was done, the red had faded.

The agents paused, looking at each other.

“We don’t need one.” Agent Tweedledee said, deftly sweeping the folder full of X-Rays closed.

“Actually, you do,” an entirely new voice joined the fray, and some man who reeked of money walked in. He was wearing a stupidly expensive suit, and looked incredibly windswept for some reason.

Sam hated him on principle.

The Agents also seemed to hate him on principle, if how they started packing up was any indication.

“Hello, my name is Bruce Wayne, and I own the Daily Planet,” Bruce Wayne said, all fake smiles and fake cheer. “That makes this private property.”

“We have a government ordinance-”

“My private property,” Bruce Wayne interrupted, stopped a mere few inches away from the now standing Agent Tweedledee. “You don’t have a warrant. Get out.”

Sam stayed seated, eyeing the proceedings.

Contrary to what she expected though, instead of pulling out guns and threatening people, the Agents just walked around Bruce Wayne and started for the door.

“If Miss Manson goes missing?” She heard Clark Kent mutter to them as they passed, “We will post her name everywhere we can, as well as pictures of your faces.”

“What pictures?” Agent Tweedledum asked, right before a camera flash blinded the man.

“These pictures. Leave Miss Manson alone!” Jimmy spat, darting out of reach.

Past him, the entire office was full of silent reporters, standing and watching the agents.

“If they ever contact you again, or violate your rights again, call me,” Bruce Wayne muttered, handing her a card.

~~~~~~

Jimmy had become telekinetic. Somehow.

They’d been interviewing some scientist new to Metropolis, Sam had turned her back on him for all of four minutes, and when she turned around he was two feet off the ground, surrounded by random objects.

Honestly she hadn’t even been aware there’d been anything that could mess with humans in the lab, so she had no idea what he’d touched.

The scientist was rambling about how his invention worked, and that all he would need to do was initiate Jimmy’s ‘inner power’ to create a bomb so destructive even Superman couldn’t stop it.

Which proved her initial suspicions that he was an evil scientist, and surprised her not at all.

Sam calmly reached out and grabbed the scientist by the throat, cutting off his air supply.

“Shhh. Shut up. No more words from you. Jimmy, I have some questions, please cooperate.”

Superman didn’t even take four minutes to show up for that one.

Apparently, Superman gave Jimmy a button for when Sam ‘forgot how human limitations worked’.

She was confused, as she hadn’t even touched Jimmy, but then Superman had gently pried her fingers off of the mad scientist's neck. Who was unconscious.

Oh.

Right.

Humans, ones that weren’t tainted with Ecto, couldn’t go that long without oxygen.

~~~~~~

“It was self defense, I swear!” Sam shouted into the phone, running through the streets.

“What was self defense?!” Bruce Wayne shouted back, noises from his side of the call indicating he was scrambling for something.

“They had cuffs and a gun! I grabbed a thing and stabbed one of them with it and probably broke the other one!” Sam took a turn, dodging into an alleyway to buy more time as she outran the GIW unit trying to chase her down.

“Broke the other one’s what?!”

“I don’t know! It made a crunching sound and he started throwing up!”

“Miss Manson, there’s no way I can get there on time. Can you shout for Superman?”

“I tried, he isn’t here or someth-” Sam was cut off as a hand shot out from one of the doorways and yanked her inside.

Or, they tried to.

Sam snarled, turning and raising her fist…only to be met with the face of Jimmy Olsen.

“In here! Quickly!” He whispered, tugging at her arm again.

Sam jumped to follow, the door shutting behind her with a soundless click.

Four minutes later, a stampede of footsteps went past, not even slowing down to consider the door.

Panting, she took a moment to look around.

It was…the weirdest basement she’d ever seen. There were broken cameras hanging from the ceiling, rows of film cartridges lining metal shelves, and a glowing lock on the door she’d just been dragged through.

Most concerning was the Ghostspeak written on the glowing lock. Sure, it was in a weird dialect, but she’d recognize it anywhere.

“...Jimmy, tell me honestly. Are you in a cult?” Sam asked, still catching her breath.

“No? This is just one of my safespots. Superman helped me outfit it, because I…uh…”

“Get kidnapped or targeted at least three times a month. Understandable.” Sam finally noticed the shouting coming from her phone and put it up to her ear. “I’m fine; Jimmy has a safehouse or something, and apparently they can’t track me while I’m in it.”

“My lawyers are already on their way to the Daily Planet. Stay where you are, we’ll sort this out.”

~~~~~~

Bruce Wayne’s lawyers were, evidently, terrifyingly competent.

Sam Manson and all Amity Parkers who were allowed to leave for the experimental integration process no longer had to debrief.

They got social workers. They had rights. They were put into contact with the Office for Extraterrestrial Immigration.

The GIW backed off.

From what Tucker told her, still tucked away in Amity, the choices the GIW had were to either concede to those stipulations, or reveal the existence of Amity and its people.

Granted, Tucker had already spread the news that Amity Parkers were guaranteed rights outside of Amity, and that the GIW couldn't legally do anything about it. There were already people planning to escape.

Tucker, in fact, wanted to know if Sam could use a couple of roommates.

~~~~~~

“This is a ‘fork’; it is a utensil used for foods that are not liquid.” Clark Kent said seriously, half leaned over his desk and slowly showing off a plastic fork.

Sam stared at the fork, unimpressed.

“And this? This is an ‘elbow’. On humans, they’re only supposed to bend like this,” the man said, using his own elbow as an example. “They don’t bend any other way. Please. Please remember that.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“‘Eyes’ are very important to humans, and they do not grow back or heal very well when impaled.” 

Sam was officially bored.

“Now, ‘forks’ are not supposed to go into ‘eyes’,” Clark advised, holding the fork exaggeratedly far away from his face.

Lois, walking by, rolled her eyes.

“Gods forbid women do anything,” she muttered.

~~~~~~

“<<Woah. And you’re sure he’s not one of us?>>” Tucker asked, flipping through Sam’s ‘Jimmy Notepad’. They were taking a break from moving in, and Sam was excited to show them her Jimmy Notes.

“<<Completely.>>”

“<<Nah, he’s gotta at least be like Wes,>>” Danny disagreed, reaching out to go back a few pages and fully placing his weight against Tucker.

“<<Nope, his bones heal super slow and he can’t even regrow any teeth. Superman said so.>>”

“<<Bullshit! Look here, he clearly shapeshifted! Normal humans can’t do that!>>” Tucker said, jabbing his finger into her notebook with enough force that he almost poked a hole in it.

“<<Hey! Don’t ruin my stuff!>>”

“<<Guys c’mon, the buildings here are super delicate, we shouldn’t fight!>>”

“<<Foods here!>>” Clark Kent interrupted, sticking his head in the living room.

Sam, Danny, and Tucker all turned as one to head for the kitchen.

“<<...Wait, he wasn’t speaking English.>>” Danny muttered, pausing.

“<<I mean, neither were we?>>” Tucker asked, shrugging.

“<<Jimmy! Did you pick up my eggplant sandwich?>>” Sam shouted, shoving past her boys and into the kitchen.

Jimmy froze like a deer in headlights.

“Uh. I don’t know what you just…?”

“She’s asking if you remembered to pick up her eggplant sandwich,” Clark’s son, Jon, said as he dug through one of the bags.

“Oh! Yeah, of course.”

Sam decided that the Kents being able to speak Ghostspeak wasn’t really any of her business.

After all, Jimmy Olsen was far more interesting to study than them.

~~~~~~

“It’s Tuesday.” Sam grumbled, her foot tapping on the ground.

“Yes, it is.” Jimmy agreed, not seeming to pay attention.

“Where are they?” Sam asked, looking for the kidnappers that were supposed to show up.

“The numbers of attempted kidnappings have gone down because any group that would try is…well, they’re terrified of you.” Jimmy said, deliberately looking anywhere but at Sam.

Sam nodded, taking out her Jimmy Notepad.

His odd powers of luck seemed to be easily circumvented by just a few threats to outside sources. Interesting. So if she left, would his weird luck powers kick in again?

“I’m gonna leave for a few hours.” Sam said, standing up.

“It’s crunch time, Perry would kill you, and also that won’t work.” Jimmy droned, starting to sound bored.

“...Hey Jimmy, if I give you twenty bucks, would you go take pictures of a weird cult I heard about?”

“Miss Manson, no!” Clark Kent shouted from the other side of the newsroom. “I don’t know what you’re trying to convince Jimmy to do, but stop!”

~~~~~~

“I wanna fight Superman,” Danny said, staring up at the man in question as he fought off yet another super-powered bad guy.

“Please don’t do that while you’re holding onto me,” Jimmy asked politely, still taking pictures of the fight as Danny held him off the edge of a building.

“I’m Jimmy’s coworker,” Sam hissed, glaring at Danny. She was the one who helped Jimmy get into weird and concerning places for good photos, not Danny!

Danny smiled smugly at her, not putting the wayward photographer down at all.

“Yeah, but you broke both your arms blocking a punch, so nyeh.”

“They aren’t even compound fractures! The bones are still in place, they’ll heal in a couple of hours!”

“It hasn’t been a couple of hours though?” Tucker asked, briefly looking up from his phone.

Sam kicked him.

He kicked her back.

Neither noticed when Jimmy’s photos went from taking pictures of Superman’s fight to taking photos of their play fight.

~~~~~~

“Sam. Hey. Sam.”

Sam groaned and tilted her head back.

“What?”

“I don’t know what you are but…you can just break out of here, right?” Jimmy whispered, keeping himself between her and Lois, and the Big Bad Evil Guys of the month.

“I’m human, though?”

“I doubt that, though?”

“You’re so rude.”

“I’m so sorry that my concern for you is making me more to the point.”

Sam tried to make a comeback, but the low, pulsing green light of those stupid rocks seemed to magnify her headache. Those rocks sounded like millions of people screaming, and the emotional drain connected to them was really messing with her.

It took all of her concentration not to throw up, let alone get into a pseudo-argument with Jimmy.

“Whatever. What is that glowing green shit they have?”

“...It’s…it’s kryptonite. Uh…Sam? Hey, quick question, but are you…?”

“Not now Jimmy, I have a migraine bad enough to warrant murder.”

“I think we’re gonna have to figure this one out without Sam, Jimmy,” Lois muttered, already halfway out of her restraints.

“But she’s gonna be okay, right?” Jimmy whispered, tense against Sam’s back.

“She’ll be fine the faster we can get the Kryptonite away. Now, Jimmy, move!”

~~~~~~

“How long was she exposed?” A voice asked, adding to Sam’s headache.

“An hour? Maybe two?” Jimmy’s voice said, winded.

“Her color already looks better, Kal. I think she just needs to sleep it off.” Lois voice added, accompanied by someone brushing her hair out of her face.

“We need to keep an eye on-”

Sam interrupted Superman by throwing up on him.

He’d spoken long enough, anyways. It was time for blessed silence.

~~~~~~

Sam woke up in her own bed, with a very excited Danny barely able to contain himself next to her.

Apparently, Superman had shown up to drop her off, and Danny had misunderstood the situation.

Danny had actually gotten to fight Superman.

And even though Danny tried to downplay certain crucial parts of it, Tucker filled in what he was cutting out; Danny had gotten his ass handed to him.

Not before he’d broken the Man of Steel’s nose, though.

Which the halfa was very proud of.

“Kinda gross that he was covered in throw-up, though,” Danny conceded after a few hours, nose wrinkled. “Oh yeah; your Jimmy is in the living room, asleep.”

“On the couch, right?” Sam asked, still annoyed by remnants of her headache.

“...I mean. I was using the couch, so…” Tucker muttered, defensive.

“You didn’t make the squishy, normal human with normal human bones and normal human joints sleep on the floor, right?”

Danny coughed slightly, standing up.

“I’ll go put him on the couch.”

“Daniel James Fenton you better be careful, he’s delicate!”

~~~~~~

Sam was forced to take that back when she went over the security footage Tucker had gathered.

Jimmy Olsen had carried her through an enemy compound on his back, gotten into multiple fights at a clear disadvantage, and even made various pit stops to check Sam’s pulse and breathing.

With a deep sigh, she pulled out her Jimmy Notepad again.

“Why does he always disprove my theories and then add just as many new ones?”

~~~~~~

Jimmy was speaking the most mangled form of ghostspeak Sam had ever heard in her life.

“...You want to lick all the blue pebbles?” Sam translated for him into English.

Jimmy groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Nevermind. I’m just…really bad at learning new languages.” He sighed, shoulders slumped in defeat. “Superman really tried to teach me but…”

“What were you trying to say?”

“...’What kind of coffee do you want?’.”

"<<What kind of coffee do you want?>> is how you're supposed to pronounce that."

Jimmy tried to repeat it. Tried.

What came out was…well.

Sam felt her jaw drop along with the papers she was holding, rage building at the insult that just left Jimmy’s mouth.

Across the room, Clark Kent broke into a coughing fit so bad he was almost gagging.

“I messed it up again, didn’t I?”

“I think you should go get coffee. Away from me. For about an hour or two.”

“What did I say?!”