Work Text:
For the third time in ten minutes, Tim Drake-Wayne slammed his hands onto the wheel of his car. Someone behind did the same and then someone further in front and within seconds the entire collection of cars were arguing through the blare of their car horns. Tim wanted to smack his head against the dashboard. They'd only just quietened down and now he'd started them back up again without meaning to. Blare after blare after blare and Tims head grew closer to feeling like it was about to blow off his shoulders. Everything was too bright even with the dark sunglasses perched on his nose. He was already well and truly late to the board meeting, it had started over an hour ago and at this rate he wouldn't even get there for the end of it. The traffic jam, courtesy of some rogue or another, hadn't edged forward in so long that it Tim didn't get a coffee soon he was going to get it his car, wade through the traffic and punch whoever the fuck was causing all this as a civilian no less because he needed coffee and he needed to get to work goddammit. (Coffee first, Coffee was more important.)
Another round of angry horns and Tim was ready to scream. Please .
" When I get my hands on you… " Tim spat out in French, reverting to his mother tongue in his anger as he scrolled his phone's news page, hoping to find out the exact rogue who'd caused his suffering and caffeine withdrawal.
'You out of it yet?' The text came through, from Jason, as he scrolled.
'Ofc not. Do we know who it is? The news won't name them.'
'Yeah, was Croc.'
Tim cursed again, creative French words spat out in anger as he slammed the horn again, long and drawn out, frustrated beyond belief. He had the worst road rage among the entire Batclan and it was 90% of the reason Bruce didn't often let him behind the wheel despite having his licence.
'You should get out soon, they did just start clearing the pile up.'
Tim gave another frustrated slam of the horn, using it to vent, they were only just starting?
To make it worse, a car door slammed behind him, a smartly dressed, built looking man stomped over, right over to Tims car, angry knocking on the window.
"Oi, if you press that horn one more fucking time I'm going to shove it down your throat!" The man yelled, still tapping on the glass. Tim shot him a glare even behind his sunglasses.
"Oi, I'm talking to you-" The rest of the words cut off when Tim, still looking straight at the man, boldly slammed his hand onto the horn once more, long duration causing the man to flinch, being so close to the source. When it finally ended though, his anger was tenfold. Tim didn't particularly give a shit anymore.
"You little bitch." He yelled at Tim, Tim shot him a nasty look.
"Come out and fight me you fucking pussy." The man snarled, which was weird considering he spoke like a Gotham thug yet was dressed like a businessman… Oh. Tim had thought him to look slightly familiar but it turned out in an hilariously ironic turn of fate that the man smacking on his window was one of the new candidates he was meant to be interviewing after the meeting. Well Tim knew exactly how that was going to end, and it wouldn't be with the man offered a job.
"Oi!" and the man was still throwing a fit. Tim scoffed, launched his phone onto the seat beside him, unfastened his seat belt and then swung his door open. The man jumped back out of the way but as soon as the door was shut and Tim was standing in the road he was back, moving forward with a fist ready to launch, closer and closer until Tim fluidly removed his sunglasses and shot an unimpressed, unfazed look.
"Really, Mr Thomas, I don't believe attempting to assault your potential boss before an interview is a good way to get a job." Tim drawled, voice dripping with venom. He was pissed and he wanted a coffee okay?
The man faltered, almost tripped over his feet, fist instantly lowered, red face turning pale, drip white.
"Mr- Mr Wayne I-" He fumbled over his words. Tim crossed his arms, cocked a hip and raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"UH- I- Shit. I'm so sorry, I would have never done that if I knew it was you!" The man promised, and Tim made a point of raising an eyebrow even higher.
"If you knew it was me? So what? You're implying you'd be fine assaulting other civilians, as long as they're not ones who'll potentially be hiring you?"
"Uh- No, no that's not what I meant, I-"
"Honestly, I've already seen enough to say you're wasting your time stuck in this jam, I won't be offering you a job anytime soon, Mr Thomas. Thank you." And Tim then turned on his heel, sunglasses redeposited onto his face before he re-entered his car. The man in question spluttered, still drip pale but not wanting to start a fight with one of the richest families in Gotham. Instead, embarrassed and ashamed, he returned to his own car.
Tim sighed once he was back in the car, picking up his phone once more. He had a few missed texts.
'B said you don't have to stress about the meeting, he's got it covered.'
'O also said they're diverting traffic to get it moving so it shouldn't be long.'
'Do you want me to bring you a coffee, my bike should get through fine.'
'Timbit wanna explain this? Bit.ly/278gx3v9t'
Tim heaved a sigh of relief at the initial two and then instantly replied to the third.
'Coffee please my saviour!'
Then he clicked the link, surprised to see a video of his altercation filmed from a couple of cars back was already on twitter, the words from both parties clear as day as the man yelled profanities at his window. The caption proclaimed 'Tim Drake-Wayne, Ladies and Gentleman, the ultimate MVP and Gotham's sassiest, no-nonsense CEO.' Which had Tim quirk his lips into a grin. There was already a growing influx of comments and likes.
'What can I say?' Was Tim's reply.
The roar of a familiar motorcycle a couple of minutes later was the only signal Tim needed to swing his door open and greet Jason who'd somehow managed to manoeuvre through the standstill traffic on his bike one handed while his other hand clutched a large travel mug of coffee that Tim would deny tears welled in his eyes at the sight of.
"This is why you're my favourite." Tim admitted while Jason could only roll his eyes beneath the helmet fondly.
"Whatever." Jason replied with a wave of his hands, not wanting to ruin his reputation by being soft on his younger siblings. He was a scary Crime Lord goddamnit.
"Well, I best get going again, I promised Roy I'd meet up with him for some crappy movie night or some sappy shit." Jason scoffed but he wasn't fooling Tim.
"Awww, Jason's in love." Tim sing-songed in a teasing manor, taking a big gulp of the scolding coffee.
"Shut it, like you can talk, you make massive ass heart eyes every time Kon's in the fucking room."
Tim let out a splutter and stuck up a middle finger. Jason only barked out a laugh, gave a wave and then was back on his bike and away, leaving Tim to shout a quick 'fuck you' in French after the man. He could have swore he heard the echoing laughter even as Jason sped off and left him with a steaming cup of coffee.
And while the jam didn't clear instantly, it did begin to slowly move as a snail's pace but it was progress and paired with the fact he had his life blood now, Tim would manage. After all nobody dared blare their horns after that, witnessing what Tim Drake-Wayne was like when pitted against Road Ragers was enough to strike fear into every driver's hearts.
The video of him went viral within an hour.