Warning: Slightly OOC Danny

It was a warm afternoon, the sun beating a golden warmth over a small town; Amity Park, Illinois. Children were frolicking about, relishing happily in the first day of their always short lived summer vacation. Teenager girls swaggered their way through Amity Park's only mall, their eyes glued to cell phone screens while they worked through their already mastered art of holding twenty bags at once. Jocks, whom were simply dragged along for the ride, played football within the mall's walls, despite the perfectness of the outside world's day.

Three particular teenagers were spending their day outdoors, chatting as they walked along the dirtied, concrete sidewalk. The trio all looked to be in their late teens; seventeen or eighteen at the most. They would have been a nameless, invisible group of tight-knit friends, but the town of Amity Park was small enough that no one had the option of simple unrecognition. Everyone knew everyone. It was as simple as that. It was for this very reason that, despite the daily occurrence of the supernatural element within their town, people tended to get bored. And when people get bored, rumors tended to spread.

The latest piece of gossip floating around town was something simply outrageous. Unspeakable, even. But the irony of the human race is the simple fact that the more incomprehensible something may seem, the more the idea will be blown out of proportion, spreading like an exciting game of Telephone. The rumors spread like wild fire, all centering around one already-out-of-the-ordinary family.

The Fentons were often ridiculed for both the strange antics of the Fenton parents, and the fact that their son was a classified loser, according to almost the entire Casper High population, at least. Jasmine Fenton seemed like the only 'normal' one of the bunch, but she had been all but excluded, having already left for her scholarship at Yale University.

Many close-minded adults spoke ill of the Fentons. Amity Park was dubbed a town of freaks after many of their seemingly crazy claims about ghosts. The Fentons were even weirder. To put it simply, they were the freakiest of the freaks.

The family owned a 'business' called Fenton Works, which went highly unnoticed by any of the populace outside of Amity Park. It was unfathomable to the upper class in town as to why they actually considered it a legitimate place of work.

They stuck onto their beliefs stubbornly. They were so bone-headedly adamant about their views that, when a piece of information about their future plans were released, levels of disbelief skyrocketed so high, they were sure the ectoplasmic entities all the way in the Ghost Zone could feel it.

And, in actuality, it all centered on the raven-haired, crystal eyed teen ambling down the narrow sidewalk. But this didn't mean that said teen wasn't in his own state of disbelief, although quite lower than that of the rest of the town.

"Why do they even want me to come? Seriously, they shouldn't even be going in the first place. It makes no sense," he was complaining to his companions quietly.

Danny was a great six feet tall, almost reaching his gigantic father in height. His shoulders were quite broad and his entire torso had well-defined muscle. He wore a bright blue hoodie and a simple pair of jeans, along with his usual blue and white Converse. His two friends were very much shorter than him. Tucker Foley was a bit lean, but he too had some kind of muscle, if a bit less noticeable than that of his friend. He wore a yellow turtleneck and a dark red beanie, as per usual since his early teen years. Sam Manson had a slender, lithe figure. She wore black and purple striped leggings, along with a black T-shirt being revealed under an open, dark grey leather jacket. She wore her usual combat boots, which made no noise when she walked, despite the fact that they were as steel-toed as ever.

"It's weird," Sam agreed, her gaze thoughtful. "But it's certainly not the strangest thing that's happened."

"But what I don't understand is why," Danny emphasized once again. "Why would someone as elite as the Bruce Wayne himself invite my parents to a gala, of all things? Not even your parents go to those things!"

"Oh, they go all right," Sam muttered dryly. "Just not to big name ones like that. Which is exactly why they, or, at least my mother, spent all morning raving over the great news."

"Ha!" Tucker snickered. "That sounds like it must have been a blast."

"You have no idea," Sam sighed.

"Well, at least your parents aren't making you go all the way to Gotham freaking City," Danny scowled irritably. "And my dad kept going on an on about being famous and signing a contract with Wayne Enterprises to make anti-ghost freaking weapons."

"Your dad mentioned contracts?" Tucker sounded unconvinced, raising an eyebrow out of disbelief.

"He was just focused on the weapons part of the deal," Danny shrugged. "Mom got into it with the possibility of all that legal stuff happening. Anything ghost related that they think they would be able to get out of this is basically all that they're focusing on. So eager to murder some ghosts," he said, making a face as he rolled his crystalline eyes.

"You don't sound too worried," Tucker pointed out.

"Do you really believe that Wayne Enterprises would start up an anti-ghost weapon division?" Danny asked rhetorically, letting out a snort. "Cities like Gotham are the ones that dubbed Amity ghost-crap crazy in the first place."

"He's right, Tucker," Sam agreed. "What are the chances?"

"...I can't believe that Wayne Enterprises is starting up an anti-ghost weapon division," Danny groaned, his tone a mixture of disbelief, exasperation, and irritation. He watched dryly as his parents let out jubilant shouts of celebration. His dad was prancing around their Gotham City hotel room, a giant, goofy grin of excitement on his face.

Danny proceeded to bang his head against the nearest wall repeatedly. His parents were so caught up in celebrating, they didn't even notice that he didn't join in, too busy wallowing in his own self-pity.

"V-Man's coming with us to Mr. Wayne's gala today!" Jack exclaimed gleefully. "He can help me ramble on about GHOSTS!"

"What?" Danny groaned again. "Vlad's gonna be there? This suddenly makes a lot more sense. Can this day get any worse?"

Five Hours Later:

"And I jinxed myself again," Danny sighed to himself in boredom, watching with a blank stare as his parents (and Vlad) shook hands with Bruce Wayne, proceeding to discuss business ("AND GHOSTS!") in an interesting manner. At least, interesting to the adults. Danny was bored out of his mind. Sure, it was cool and all to meet the Bruce Wayne himself, but how could anyone handle all of these rich snobs all night? It was almost demeaning.

He felt a sudden pity for Sam, his rich best friend, who has no doubt been dragged to countless galas over the years. He almost couldn't handle all of the fake smiles and flirtatious smirks. They weren't even being directed at him!

The air felt hot and Danny was starting to sweat, growing uncomfortable in the monkey suit that he was forced to wear. He was standing off to the sides and blending in with the shadows, hoping not to cause any undue attention to himself. It worked, as the people around him mingled sociably, taking no notice of him whatsoever.

He didn't know how long he stood, but he found himself glaring dryly at the ugly grin on his arch-rival's nasty face. Vlad's smirk was dirty, his hands behind his back and his shoulders straight. His mom stood beside him, a polite smile on her face as she scooted away from Vlad discreetly when he turned to say something indistinguishable to her. His dad had an oblivious grin, continuing to babble off to Wayne's surprisingly patient smile.

Danny let out another sigh.

"Enjoying the party?" a male voice came from out of nowhere, tone layered with slight sympathy and amusement. Danny's heart gave a jolt and he let out a small sound of surprise, automatically turning to face the unexpected speaker He recognized him instantly. It was Bruce Wayne's first ward, Richard Grayson.

"Sorry," Richard apologized, not sounding in the least bit sorry as he grinned even wider at Danny, amusement shining in his ice-blue eyes. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"'S okay," Danny mumbled sheepishly, automatically rubbing the back of his neck out of habit.

"Hey, have you seen my brother?" Dick asked curiously. "I've been looking all over for him. He's most likely off biting some woman he deemed a 'harlot'. Sure hope everyone has their rabies shot," he joked.

"Um, no?" Danny raised an eyebrow, not even knowing what he was supposed to say to that. "Which one are you looking for?"

"Damian," Dick informed.

"Sorry, Richard," Danny apologized. "Haven't seen him."

"Hmm," Dick hummed thoughtfully, his grin not even lessening. "It's fine, but call me Dick; Richard is way too formal. There's no need for that, right? We're all friends here."

"Right," Danny muttered dryly, gaze turning to one fruitloop in particular. "Friends."

"Okay, yeah, I know," Dick conceded, shrugging at all of the fake smoochers surrounding him. "You get used to it." Danny raised an unbelieving eyebrow, causing Dick to let out a slight laugh. "It's true," he defended half-heartedly. "Been at it for years… Unlike my little brother over there…" Dick trailed off as he noticed Damian hissing vehemently at the woman surrounding him, cooing over Bruce Wayne's newest son.

"Get away from me, you harlots, before I stab out each and every one of your putrid eyes!" Damian yelled, his voice traveling to meet their ears.

"Ha!" Danny laughed, glad to find at least some form of entertainment. "That's Damian? I heard he was a little devil, but I can't even blame him."

"He's…" Dick paused as he tried to come with a word. "Let's just say that he's new at this."

"No kidding," Danny snorted. "At least I can stand over here with no one to bother me. Kid's probably sick of all the attention he's been getting since, you know…"

"Yeah," Dick shook his head. "It hasn't been very long since he started living with us. He's a bit hard to handle, but I think we're getting used to him… Kind of."

"Should you be helping him?" Danny asked casually, watching, unconcerned, as Damian's cheeks were pinched tightly by a random lady, turning them pink while Damian proceeded to curse the woman out. He snarled at her like a dog, baring his teeth. The lady let out a scream, running to get as far away from the Demon as possible.

"I think he has it handled fine…"

"AAHH!" Several yells went off from the rest of the group cooing over Damian. One lady was clutching at the front of her dress, which was torn straight down the middle, yelling, "YOU EVIL BRAT!"

Damian simply gave a dark smirk as more people from the group of woman dispatched from him, all in a similar state of disarray. Some of them had bite marks on their arms, while others had smudged makeup, along with wild hair. The few remaining woman watched with wide eyes, but tried to suck it up, telling themselves that they absolutely needed some way to kiss up to Bruce Wayne.

Danny was already laughing hard, a few tears rolling down his face at the whole situation. He then fell to the ground, clutching his sides when a cloud of green gas spread around Damian. The remaining few woman were seen lying on the floor, knocked out cold when the gas dissipated. Damian's gas mask covered face made it even harder to control his breathing, and gasping, he tried to get words out between his desperate inhales for breath, "Yeah- HAHA- handled fine- HAHAHAHAHA!"

"What did I tell him about this," Dick muttered to himself in exasperation, the palm of his hand meeting his forehead with a smack.

I... I don't even know where this came from, honestly. But it is a ONESHOT, so I hope you enjoyed anyway, despite the complete weirdness! xD

It's okay to hate this. Just brood quietly, because I know how completely random and OOC this was.