Chapter Text
Okay. To start: Danny did not mean to get into full time crossdressing. It was just… a work thing.
You can’t blame him, okay? Gotham doesn’t have a lot in the way of major money making opportunities, especially for college students. Most of it is through the Wayne foundation and other such support systems, but Danny cannot say he knows what that’s like.
Danny would’ve loved to say that he got a full ride scholarship to Gotham University, but the truth is that to even apply to the scholarships he had to submit SAT scores and high school records that… were dubious at best.
He wasn’t even completely sure he had SAT scores, because there was a ghost attack that day and half the class was out of the room before they even started testing. They never tried to test again that year, which might have been illegal but Danny wasn’t exactly thinking about his future prospects at that very day. Something he very much regretted now.
School records also weren’t on the forefront of his mind when he was shoving everything he owned into a bunch of suitcases and chucking them through the ghost zone before his parents finished their- well, nevermind. The point is that even if he did have the records, they wouldn’t do him much now.
Gotham was a lovely place to live if you were a ghost. But it was less lovely to live as a human who needed an active papertrail for almost everything.
So Danny needed money for college, and for that he needed a job. Which he searched long and hard for! He applied to some here and there. But unfortunately Gotham’s staffing opportunities for someone with no record were incredibly shady themselves.
More than once Danny had walked into an interview only to realize that the wording for the job was actually a thinly veiled front for crime. He quickly learned to skip over anything that included chemistry at all.
Until one day he saw an application that was open to women only. No introductory experience required, just a hostess job for a restaurant that wanted waitresses specifically. Danny thought to himself “Man if I were a girl I’d…”
Then he remembered he could shapeshift. And Profit.
The waitress job turned out to be a bit of a bust, but they did actually offer him the position once he turned up with longer hair and a higher voice. However he didn’t feel like working in a restaurant that clearly had rats running the place more than the owners. Especially in heels. Danny couldn’t run from rats in heels.
It got the idea into Danny’s head though. How many jobs were kept from him just because they needed girls?
As it turns out, quite a few. Not a lot, but enough to catch his attention. Most of the time they wanted one who was experienced in being a pretty face or needed a woman for some kind of acting and singing lineup. And Acting? Oh Danny knew a thing or two about acting.
Not to brag, but he had perfected all the voices and faces from his years of lying to everyone he knew about ghosts and being phantom.
Danny was more than happy to throw his dignity to the side for the sake of getting a degree. Hard times need hard wills, man.
Plus it helped that most jobs that wanted a man typically wanted guys that were much bigger and stronger than Danny. If anything, pretending to be a girl was to his better advantage.
So he started picking up singing gigs, acted in the background for a few shows. One thing that Gotham had in abundance was in-home entertainment because of how busy the city was.
And what do you know? A couple of gigs here and there let him build a resume, putting a picture of his new persona on it got his foot through the door of even more paid one-time shows. He had to forge even more documents, sure. But that was minimal in the face of the cash man.
It was going great. Soon, Danny was starting to sit on enough money that he could actually pay for his college classes the legitimate way. Even take four courses a semester instead of just two or three. Actually eat three meals a day instead of one meal and whatever ambient ecto he could find.
Danny actually caught himself making plans for what to do with his life after this. His new identity was… shoddy, but he was actually making a solid piece of income. Once he had more of a background and was able to fabricate better documents then maybe he’d be able to leave Gotham here and there. See parts of the world where he wasn’t restricted by ecto intake and worried about the GIW tracking him down.
It was nice. He felt like maybe he could have a life again. Who knew what a year without hiding constantly from ghost obsessed parents could do for your self esteem.
Everything was going perfectly well until it all fell apart.
୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔♡ Some people call it paradise, but I call it pain ♡ ⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧
It began as most things do: with a crummy work shift.
Not a terrible one. He wasn’t fired or anything, but the rehearsal went wrong in just about every other way possible. The director was shoddy at best. Nasally, and he didn’t have a very good idea of the “vision” he wanted Danny or rather “Ms.Nightingale” to encapsulate.
More than half of Danny’s takes were nit-picked, his pitch was “off” most of the time, and they had to do so many retakes that Danny was almost itching to let a full ghostly wail out the fourteenth time the man told him to “project louder”.
And now he was tired and his voice was hoarse and he really just wanted to go home and eat his weight in ramen and ectoplasm to heal his throat back up.
The half ghost pushes his door closed with one arm, practically dragging himself into his half-living room and flipping on a lamp. Ready to strip off his sweat stained clothes and climb into bed.
“Huh.” Says the helmeted guy on his couch as the room lights up. “Not what I expected.”
He’s burly, sporting a sleek black biker’s helmet and leather jacket. The rest of his outfit is black, and very clearly tactical. He’s relaxed too, lounging as comfortably as a robber can.
Oh. Someone has broken into his house.
Danny, a perfectly reasonable civilian with Nothing™ to hide, begins backing away rapidly as he spots the gun in the man’s hand. Fucking shit, a robbery on top of all of this?
Now, he’s not afraid of bullets. Even if he can’t go intangible right now, he wouldn’t exactly die from it. Danny’s not even sure if he can fully die anymore.
But being shot would really, really suck. Not to mention defusing whatever situation that would come with it. Danny really did not want to have to fake fatal wounding, or worse. His own death.
Danny raises his hands quickly as he can in the air, making sure he’s hit the classic ‘don’t shoot me pose’ as he tries not to freak out too badly. “He-Hey man listen, I don’t have anything to give you I swear!”
It’s become his default line for robberies, because he does not get off scot free walking home at night. But the good news is that Danny is far too broke to get properly robbed by other people.
The man laughs a little, it comes out a bit staticy through the helmet. “Oh, I don’t care about that.”
“I don’t have family, I-I-I live alone.” Danny shrinks back even more when the gun raises a little again. “There’s nobody to pay a ransom-”
“I’m not kidnapping you either. I just have a few questions.” The gun is still carefully following Danny’s movements.
Outwardly, Danny struggles to maintain his scared face as he struggles to piece together what exactly this man could be here for if that’s the case. Usually people only break into a flat for two reasons- well, three, but he’s leaving murder out of this since there’s nothing the guy can do to him.
So if he’s not here to kidnap Danny, and he’s not here to rob him, why is the man here?
“You wouldn’t happen to know Ms.Nightingale, would you?” Red Hood asked.
Danny’s stomach practically drops through the floor. “No? What makes you say that?” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. He usually changes back into himself once he gets to the nearest camera blindspot, he never walks home as a girl. How did this guy figure it out?
“Oh, y’know. There are a lot of people in this world that can do ama~zing things. I was just on my way back home, and whaddya know- a free magic show. A woman disappearing right before my very eyes.” Shit. Danny’s in hotter water than he first thought.
If anyone links him back to Amity, or god forbid ghost activity in general, he can kiss his new life goodbye.
“Look Mister…uh…” Danny looks blankly at the man, trying to dredge up any recognition. Admittedly, his knowledge on Gotham vigilantes and villains was pretty shabby. The main things that he had researched was who knew the police, which were mainly the bats and birds. Other than that he had been more concerned with finding various forms of short-term work rather than the names of all the hooligans that go around in christmas colored underwear.
He swears it's not unreasonable that he does not know who this guy is at all.
Danny can feel the man’s emotions in the air, but that’s not really helping right now considering all he's getting is slight wariness and mild amusement.
“Red Hood” says Mr.Helmet. It’s not really the most accurate name, but Danny supposes it’s better than what most weirdos in Gotham name themselves.
Surprisingly, he recognizes this name. When he was first researching what areas of Gotham Batman stayed away from, the one that stuck out the most was a chunk of city named Park Row. Well, officially named. Everyone that he’d met so far called it “Crime Alley.”
And the Red Hood just so happened to be the main crime Lord of the place.
Danny is so fucked.
“Mr Red Hood,” Danny starts emphatically, because he has one chance to get out of this and by Clockwork is he going to do his best. “I think you've mixed me up with someone else, I have no idea what you're talking about or who Miss Nightingale is.” He puts a hand on his chest, just to appear more honest.
“Oh?” Red Hood asks in a voice that immediately sets off alarm bells in Danny's head. He finally lowers the gun back into his lap. “And I suppose it's just random coincidence that the money from her most recent rehearsal just so happens to be wired to a bank account under your name?” The burly man puts a hand under his chin, as if pondering the question.
Danny deflates. Fuck.
It's no use. The Jig Is Up.
And if the man has already gotten far enough to go through Danny’s last gig and his bank account, that means that he’s probably already figured out all of Ms.Nightingale’s fake documents.
Realms, he’s so screwed. This is it, this is where Danny dies a second time.
“A lady can only disappear into a security camera blind spot so many times before people start to wonder where she went.” Red Hood said almost sweetly, tilting his head.“Gotta say, I'm impressed with your makeup work.”
“Thanks. Clearly it's a little too good.” Danny mutters, almost wishing the gun would get pointed at him again.
“How far does it go?” Red Hood asked, demanding with a hint of interest. “Is it just the head, or were those curves real?”
Danny involuntarily feels his face flame. “How is that any of your business?” He bites back a little embarrassed. How close did this guy get without Danny noticing him? He feels like he would remember seeing someone with a bulky build like this. Usually he had nothing to do but people watch while singing or acting.
“Well… I usually try to stay on top of any possible threats to Crime Alley. Even though you don’t seem like much of one.” Red Hood states, crushing whatever was left of Danny’s self esteem. Way to kick a man while he’s down.
Danny doesn’t respond, because mentally he’s trying to map out how fast he can get the hell out of Gotham and start his life anew for the second time.
He’s not very good with any powers that deal with actual humans aside from overshadowing. He could try memory wiping, but he’s not confident in its ability. He might end up giving the man complete and utter amnesia.
‘I could just beat him up…’ Danny thinks, because if there’s anyone that it’s morally correct to beat up and threaten, it’s probably the crime lord threatening you.
“But you’re lucky. I’m not in the business of dealing with people just for being Metas.” Red Hood responds casually. He fiddled with the gun a bit, doing a fancy twirl with it before readjusting his grip. “You’re not a crime lord, and as far as I know you aren’t breaking many laws except for your identity, but who doesn’t?”
Danny tries not to show it, but he relaxes marginally. Okay so it’s just the shapeshifting, Danny hasn’t actually been found out as a ghost.
As dumb as it might be, this was actually the second main reason he moved to Gotham after running away. Aside from all the ambient ecto, there are loads of crazy people with abilities and PHDs inside Gotham, a single shapeshifter would fly under the radar easy peasy.
….or so Danny thought.
Unfortunately it wasn't until Danny was well and firmly moved into Gotham that he heard the most important piece of information he was missing. Batman doesn't like Metas. And anyone with powers he will actively try to either lock up or chase out of the city.
Now Danny doesn't actually know if that's true, but what he does know is that Batman works very closely with the police and is rumored to never, ever, fail at catching someone. So he does not want to press his luck in the slightest.
Danny narrows his eyes at Red Hood. “If you aren’t here to try and fight me, why are you here then?” He doesn’t like where this is going.
“Well, as it happens I know the value of a fake identity or two. And I happen to be in the market for an… actor. Of sorts.” Red Hood makes a show of casually inspecting his gun.
“I dunno. Ms.Nightingale is doing just fine right now. Who says I need to help you?” Danny crosses his arms and glares down at the lazy crime lord who is still taking up the end of Danny’s couch like he has nowhere to be after this.
This is the wrong move.
Finally the crime lord moves, like Danny just said the cue that he was waiting for. He rises from the couch far more smoothly than Danny expected, and was already halfway to approaching Danny before the ghost could even react.
With thick, heavy combat boots stomping his way, Red Hood has a good four inches on Danny. Towering over him in a mass of bulky leather and body armor. He makes sure to tread close enough that it makes Danny stumble back several feet until he hits the wall.
His voice was more gravely and filled with static as white lens stared down into Danny’s wide blue eyes.
“Be nice and cooperative, and we can work out a deal. I get my work done, you get to keep your little secret.” Red Hood glanced to the right at Danny’s sparse kitchen. “And money too, of course.”
If Danny was thinking more rationally, he’d be offended by how the crime lord is clearly judging his place of living.
Well, he can’t blame the guy. Danny’s apartment is incredibly sparse because he keeps everything valuable in the ghost zone. He sure as hell isn’t keeping anything out in the open unless he’s ready for it to be gone. The landlord claimed the door locks were secure, but clearly not.
The result is that his living space looks like something that even a squatter might look at and wince.
Blank white walls, singular brown couch, lawn chair with a blanket thrown over it, lamp. Coffee table that is very blatantly leaning to one side. The kitchen wasn't much better. At least Danny knew for sure no rats would move in, because there was no way they'd find food.
“I just need a couple favors. Someone with your skill set is hard to come by, I’m sure you understand?” Red Hood’s voice doesn’t hold very much smugness but Danny can feel it wafting off him.
“....What if I say no?” Danny asks. The ghost in him is itching to fight what’s clearly an enemy in his territory, but he beats it back down. The human side of him is intrigued, because really this sounds too good so far.
It’s effectively a job opportunity on a hook- everything he was already doing before without all the job hunting and middle-men involved. But Danny doesn’t want to find out what the catch is.
“Well. I might not care ‘bout Metas, but I’m sure the Bat would love to hear that a shapeshifter’s been hiding under his nose.” Red Hood shrugs noncommittally. “All the same’ to me.”
Fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
So basically the situation is: Work with Red hood, or deal with Batman. It doesn’t matter which one he picks because either one could lead to GIW breaking down his door once they get a whiff of ghost in Gotham.
Without another word Red Hood was suddenly stepping back and turning his back to Danny. Walking back across the room like all that was just a normal Tuesday for him.
“I’ll give you the details in a few days. In the meantime, keep your regular schedule.” Red Hood opens Danny’s window and starts to grip the window frame before he looks back and goes “Oh. And don’t bother telling anyone. I’ll know the second you do.” Then with one jump he’s gone from Danny’s apartment.
The ghost stared blankly at the space where the man left, contemplating every single decision that led him up to this situation.
Fucked. Danny is well and truly fucked.
୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔♡ Baby take me anywhere, but not here again ♡ ⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧
“Fucking realms!” is what Danny shrieks when Red Hood comes through the window at 1am on Saturday.
Years of ghost fighting had honed his battle instincts to go off in a hair trigger, meaning that before Danny could blink he was already intangible and had to struggle not to go invisible too. Thankfully he got his head on straight and turned corporal again before Red Hood could notice.
“You should really keep your windows locked.” Is all that Red Hood says as he stands to start looming creepily in the living room again.
“I never had any break-ins before you.” Danny snips back, frantically grabbing the cloth that he cleans dishes with because he spilled water all over the counter having a near heart attack!
How the hell can this man just do this? Three full days that Danny spent freaking out over the idea of his identity being discovered, of him being turned into the GIW, of Red Hood finding out he was a ghost and deciding to wash his hands of Danny. All for this red-headed bastard to swing in through the window like a terrible rip off of The Ring.
“You have. They probably just didn't take anything.” Even Danny can hear the flat mockery in his tone.
Before Danny can find a retort to that, Red Hood was already walking towards him and talking. “I was observing you for a few days. You didn’t do anything stupid. Good job. I’m guessing that means the deal is on.”
“Are you… supposed to tell me that?” Danny is pretty sure the first rule of spying on someone is not to say you’re spying on them.
Not to say he didn’t know that Red Hood was spying. He totally did. Danny had felt eyes on him almost every time he was outside in his normal form since the night that Red Hood left. It’s made him all kinds of paranoid, he hasn’t even taken anything in or out of the ghost zone which left him grumpy he couldn’t have his things.
So yeah, of course he didn’t do anything stupid. Did Red Hood really think he’d let himself get caught by the police on the singular chance of getting a crime lord to stop harassing him? No. If it came to that then Danny would deal with Red Hood himself.
He didn't exactly know what “dealing" looked like yet, but he would figure it out as he went. In the meantime, sticking around and learning more about Red Hood and what he wanted was the first step to getting out alive. Well, half alive.
Red Hood just huffs irritably and thumps heavily down on the couch. Gun unholstered and in his lap. “Sit down, I got a long story for ya.”
The story, as Red Hood tells it goes like this: Being a crime lord is rough.
Blah blah blah, enemies. Guys looking to stab you in the shadows. Can’t continue to have the element of surprise when too many people have now backed out of his territory, something like that.
The basis of what he tells Danny is vaguely threatening things presumably about killing gangs. Danny is a little tense at first, but slowly relaxes once he realizes that Red Hood isn’t giving him all the gory details. It’s a little weird getting the run down of criminal politics from a gang leader, but in Danny’s opinion he’s met worse.
If Danny had to envision what a crime lord ghost would look like, he looked no further than Red Hood. From the sounds of it the man’s life completely revolved around weeding out the worst of Gotham’s underbelly.
Red Hood eloquently explains that most rival gangs will aim for the soft spot when it comes to finishing off their rivals. A business partner, a wife, a couple of kids, some friends, even extended family. There’s no low they’ll stoop to when it comes to taking a competitor out of the picture, and Gotham is well known for its kidnappings.
Issue is: Red Hood doesn’t have anyone for them to kidnap.
He’s entirely anonymous with iron clad secrecy. So all of the would-be kidnappers are scuttling around him like mice too afraid to get close to the cat, and he needs some cheese to bait them out.
Any family is out for identity reasons. Friends wouldn’t be as believable, and there aren’t many people Red Hood could justify as “friend worthy”. It wasn’t like any streetwise schmuck would do, and anyone strong enough to be on Red Hood’s level was almost certainly his enemy.
A partner would work perfectly. Red Hood has already turned down enough offers and broken enough skulls of human traffickers that people have gotten the hint he isn’t interested. Giving them a reason why that disinterest is warranted would work perfectly.
And thus they arrive at Red Hood’s current problem. Using one of his own people to be a fake partner not only wouldn’t work, but would get them in hot water faster than rice in a crock pot. Plus nobody he uses as bait is both loyal enough to risk the sensitive information and expendable enough that they could risk getting killed.
No, he needs someone who can consistently become bait and then slip back into normal society like nothing happened. Repeatedly. Preferably without getting actually kidnapped or murdered.
“What the fuck.” Is Danny’s only response as he stares dubiously up at the helmeted man in front of him.
Red Hood. The Crime Lord of Crime Alley. Needs a fake girlfriend to act as bait for his rival crime lords because several of them aren’t falling for his traps anymore.
It also just so happens that a woman named Miss Nightingale is incredibly pretty, hot to trot single, and not at all real except for a few forged documents and several singing gigs.
Danny cannot believe his fucking ears.
“You’re asking me to be your pretend girlfriend?” Sometime during this conversation, Danny went from sitting ramrod straight to practically on the edge of his seat in disbelief.
Pardon him, but this is weird. And that’s coming from Daniel Fenton of all people. That's how you know it's weird-weird.
“No, I’m telling you.” Red Hood informs him from where he’s had his feet propped up on the table for the last twenty minutes. “I don’t imagine many people can change their face and get off scot free.”
By now the coffee Danny made to calm his nerves has grown completely cold in his hands, untouched and getting grosser by the minute as the cheap instant grinds float to the surface. Danny doesn't care, Danny isn’t sure if he’s still on this plane of existence anymore. Maybe he slipped into the ghost zone by accident?
For now he can’t do much but flounder like a fish as he repeatedly opens and closes his mouth to ask a lot of questions he’s not sure he wants answered. “Like… right now?” Danny asks. Mind still boggling over the realization that this is what he’s been roped into.
Red hood’s helmet can’t emote, but Danny senses the exasperation anyways. “Yes. Sweet cheeks, right now. Unless you want me to pass your number on to Gotham’s number one vigilante?” he asks almost coy.
Damn him.
The man in front of him knows damn well that the very last thing any power user, ghost or meta, wants to be caught by is Batman. Danny can very well envision himself being bagged and tagged by the GIW faster than he can say “Going Ghost.”
Danny would probably be much angrier if the situation wasn’t so fucking bizarre. He’s being blackmailed into fake dating an anonymous crime lord with his greatest secret.
He just can’t believe his luck right now. Of all the fucking ways to get caught, of all the ways for his human facade to come crumbling down, of all the nightmares he’s had? Over fucking this!?
A crime lord would rather use him as a stand-in for a girlfriend than literally anything else shapeshifting is good for. Like six arms, or scaring people. Does he even know the value of tentacles in non-sexual situations? Like carrying fourteen grocery bags at once!?
“Okay but… why this over regular crime???” Danny can’t help but ask.
Of all the things to commit a crime with shapeshifting, being a fake girlfriend isn’t even in the top ten. It might not even break the top thirty considering it is barely identity fraud. If anything he would just call it illegal drag.
Red Hood tilts his head in amusement, asking “Do I seem like I need help with regular crime?” he stretches the word out teasingly. Sounding just like he’s on the verge of laughter through the voice changer.
He can feel amusement wafting off the man in satisfied waves, the smug bastard.
Danny hangs his head a little, okay stupid question. He quickly looks back up though. “What does it… involve?”
Admittedly… he’s not terribly opposed to the idea. Especially since Red Hood made it sound like he might get an “in” with the criminal side of Gotham for the trouble. He’s willing to go along as long as this doesn’t pose a threat to his shakily built life or college degree. Plus, having a crime lord to hide behind might make avoiding the police even easier.
Of course, the alternative deterrent is also effective. But Danny is well used to the carrot and stick method.
Red Hood finally shifts into leaning forward instead of the fake casual he’s been posturing the whole time they’ve been sitting down. “Well for one. You’ll be ‘dating’ me. So you’re gonna have to act.”
Danny nods. Yeah, that was pretty much the majority of what he thought the agreement was going to be. People don’t pick up shapeshifters for much other than acting. That was fine, Danny was already playing the role of a girl in his own time.
“For two, any personal life you have right now is forfeit. As of right now, Daniel Fenton is an information gatherer for Red Hood.” The crime lord declares.
“What?!” Danny finally sat back up straight. “I can’t do that!” He immediately vetoed the idea. The whole reason for him agreeing to this deal was that he got to keep his life, he can’t just give that all away because one singular asshole said so!
“Oh? And I suppose you have something more pressing?” Danny has to hand it to him, Red hood does a very good job at sneering behind the mask as he makes fun of Danny’s sad little life.
“I have classes.” Danny growls back. It’s only half a lie, he had to attend in person on occasion but not all the time.
Vaguely, he feels the irritation in the crime lord seems to settle at that. It starts to lean towards something like… longing? What? Before Danny can ruminate on it, Red Hood growls again. “Fine. You can attend some of those, but otherwise you work for me.”
“I-” Okay, Danny has run out of arguments now that he’s thoughtlessly thrown the one legitimate defense he had at Red Hood.
“How else am I going to explain your day form? You can’t be dolled up around me all the time or you’ll end up actually kidnapped.” Red Hood deadpanned. “And the whole point of having you is so that I don’t need to worry about my fake being picked off the street between visits.”
Danny isn’t sure what kind of face he’s making, but he’s pretty sure it isn’t a nice one. “Why do you need me during the day? I thought my job was to sit there and look pretty.” Night life he can understand, but why daytime too?
“Your job.” Oops, wrong move. “-is to do whatever the hell I tell you too.”
Danny grimaced but held his hands up in surrender when Red Hood fixed him with an oddly intimidating stare. He’s never been great at not running his mouth in life or death situations.
The man had this aura around him that told Danny it was a bad move to go against his orders. Not so much a “don’t fuck with me” aura but more of a “I will rip you limb from limb” aura.
Granted, it’s less effective because Danny can feel his emotions, but still pretty damn scary for a man who isn’t a ghost or ghost hunter.
And as much as he hated it… honestly this seemed like the kind of thing Danny’s been waiting for. A chance to make some real money, or at least enough money that he doesn’t have to skip on basic necessities in favor of paying for his classes. Maybe even a better paper trail for Ms.Nightingale if he’s allowed to keep that persona after this is all done.
Because let’s be real, Danny can deal with kidnappers easy peasy. He’s already dodged several attempted late night shankings since moving to Gotham.
Mentally Danny weighs the pros and cons of throwing his sense to the wind and trying to
“Alright, alright. What are my new duties then? Because you realize that I still have to work normally right? I can’t just quit all of my gigs because you say so.”
“I think you’ll find that my say so as your new boss is the only thing keeping you here.” Red Hood’s voice is filled with even harsher static as he gets louder.
Danny throws up his hands in frustration, then goes promptly back to holding them up defensively when Red Hood leans intimidatingly.
“Just Fridays, okay?! I’m, er, Miss Nightingale is on a pretty hefty contract and I can’t quit out of nowhere!” Danny points a finger at him as if that’s going to do anything substantial. “I’m willing to compromise my classes for it, but none of my exams please. Your ‘girlfriend’ has a life.”
Red Hood seems to ease off at that. Silently mulling it over, though the aggression in his physical form doesn’t lessen in the slightest. He’s still looming over Danny threatening.
Danny tenses more and more as the silence drags on, wondering how much he’s fucked up by trying to negotiage. He isn’t really scared of what Red Hood could do to him, he’s more scared of what he might have to do to Red Hood if the man tries to shoot him and figures out that Danny can’t die.
From there it could easily spiral into him being hunted down by Red Hood’s gangs, the police getting involved, and then the GIW-
“Huh.” Red Hood finally muttered, bringing a hand up to casually flick Danny’s forehead. “You really are just a college shapeshifter.”
Danny sputters indignantly at the offending attack, trying to grasp words that aren’t coming to him. Instead he settles for grabbing his forehead and spitting the first words that come to his mind. “Excuse you! Some of us don’t plan criminal domination or whatever it is you do as a crime… inal…” his rebuttal falls so flat it might as well have had its shoelaces tied together.
Red Hood huffs, it’s barely there and almost isn’t caught by his voice modulator. “Clearly.” He says derisively.
Danny is starting to get the feeling that working for Red Hood is going to be a massive pain in his ass. His ghostly, non-corporeal ass.
“One last thing.” Red Hood crosses his arms. “Change into Ms.Nightingale.”
“What?” Danny responds intelligently.
“I need to see what I’m working with. Change. Transform. Do whatever you do when you need to become a girl.” He gestures for Danny to ‘go on’ with one hand.
“Okay okay, but can you at least give me some privacy?”
Red Hood doesn’t leave the room- because Danny’s apartment only has one room anyways, but he pointedly turns to face the wall while keeping one gun in hand. Paranoia, my guy.
Danny lets the ghostly rings wash over him. Not fully transforming, not really. He hasn’t transformed in a long while, but that doesn’t dampen the energy that immediately floods through his veins, transforming the base of his body into something malleable and ethereal.
All in all, Ms.Nightingale isn’t too different from his normal face. Still caucasian, with the same bone structure and features. Same height, though Danny's 5'10 made her taller for a woman. He based her off of what people usually expect to think of when they think of an attractive singer.
Bleached blonde hair that was nearly white, baby blue eyes with vibrance that practically glowed, and enough cleavage to be a plenty convincing girl. Tonight she was in a long plaid dress that puffed out nicely at the edges with a shawl over the shoulder. Nothing too fancy but comfortable for a rehearsal.
“You can turn around now.” Danny says normally, still in his usual voice because talking higher actually grates on his voice after a while and he hates holding it way more than he’s supposed to.
Hood does a very clear double-take as he turns. After appraising Danny for a few seconds, he lets out a low whistle and says “Very convincing.”
Danny shrugs, the green shawl shifting with his arm movements. “Has to be, or it wouldn’t work.”
Danny can’t see where Red Hood’s eyes are looking, but he gets the feeling of the vigilante eyeing his form up and down. “It works with clothing?” Hood questions, emitting waves of intense wariness all of a sudden.
“Yes?” Danny raises his eyebrows at Red Hood, wondering why he’s getting scrutinized so much. Generally, people understand the concept of “shapeshifter” pretty easily.
“What about the voice?” Hood immediately demands. Okay, pushy much? What happened to being impressed!?
“I can be anything you want, sugar.” Danny says in a sweet, honeyed tone as he sarcastically flips the longer hair that was delicately curled into a wave.
“How long can you hold this form?”
“As long as I’ve got energy. If I get too tired or hungry I’ll transform back.” Danny explains. “The voice is easier, but my throat gets sore if I do it a lot.”
Somehow the crime Lord still feels the need to do a full 360° walk around Danny's form before he feels completely satisfied.
“Oh yeah, this’ll work.” His voice is smug, like he's looking at a hard won prize after a tough uphill battle and not all the fruits of Danny's labor that are actively being snatched out from underneath him.
“Fantastic.” Danny says flatly. “What now?” he asks his new overlord. Just begging to be informed as the young, ignorant flower that he is.
Instead of actually giving Danny a substantial answer (because why would he decide to give Danny anything at this point?) Red Hood walks over to the window and leaps back onto the window still.
“I’ll be in contact.” And then he was gone.
“Just what every girlfriend wants to hear.” Danny mutters irritably to himself.