Faye Feng → Dick Grayson ✔

Ports and Parties

Feng Mansion was packed. It seemed that Jason Chow-Feng had invited the entirety of Gotham's upper class, and they had all accepted. Everyone had shown up in their best, the women in dresses that seemed to have starlight sewn into the fabric, while the men wore suits that used silk so fine that the strands could be seen, glimmering like diamonds. From the driveway, Dick had caught sight of the indoor pool through its glass walls and recognized a few younger faces. The second generation of Gotham's wealthiest were in designer swimsuits, laughing and gossiping in the warm water, imitative of their parents who flitted around the ballroom.

As shallow as they all seemed, Dick couldn't blame them. It was a chance to flaunt their wealth and show their power, which was strategy he could respect. He mentioned this to Bruce in a quick mutter too fast for anyone but his father to catch, who nodded curtly.

"I don't think Mrs. Feng's too threatened by what she sees." Bruce responded, and Dick agreed. As magnificent as the guests' outfits were, the ballroom itself put the invitees to shame. With blood red drapes and golden designs tastefully placed within space that could have housed a small building all on its own, the room resembled the inside of an enormous Chinese lantern, lit up by the sun streaming in through the windows.

"She's proud of where she's from."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Bruce said. "In fact, I think it's clever."

"Why?"

"She's showing Gotham how different she is. She knows that she's always going to be treated as an outsider, and no doubt has been for most of her life, so if people are going to point it out anyway, why not make it her brand?"

The line to meet the Fengs slowly inched forwards. Many were taking their time in commending themselves to the family, and Dick couldn't help but grin as he imagined Faye disregarding all of them. He had been on the other end when he was first introduced as the newest heir to Bruce Wayne's fortune. The only difference was that Dick put up an act; Faye, on the other hand, had no filter.

"Remember what we discussed," Bruce said sternly, spotting his ward's grin. It faded as soon as Dick recalled the briefing.

"Yeah, I know," he said, voice tight and low. "Not a party – a mission."

"You know your mark and I know mine. Our objective is to confirm the magician's identity by the end of this year."

They reached the end of the line to see Sandra and Jason standing side by side, shaking hands and smiling, although Sandra's husband seemed to do more of the latter. Sandra remained stoic, and the small upward curve of her lips never quite met her eyes. Jason was playing the gracious host, flashing his perfect teeth at everyone without fail. The couple's raven black hair was dyed a faint brown in the sun, and Sandra's red gown shimmered as she moved.

But Faye was missing. Only her parents stood at the front of the beautifully gilded golden catfish, that served as both a decorative piece and a fountain, water spewing from the mouth and tail of the statue.

"Mrs. Feng, Mr. Feng," Bruce smiled charmingly as he shook hands with the hosts of the party. "I'm Bruce Wayne. It's an honor to meet you."

Jason laughed. "Oh, it's hardly an honor," he smiled back. "If anything, I should be honored to meet you, Mr. Wayne. I've heard so much about your selfless contributions to Gotham City; it's a wonder you have any money left."

Bruce let his diplomat's laugh join Jason's, while Dick shook Sandra's hand. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

"Richard Grayson," Sandra said. It was more of a statement than a question. She swept her gaze across the crowd, searching. "Faye's been talking about you. She told me that you're the only person who will be any fun in the coming days."