Work Text:
Ahmed Hatim wasn’t a very confrontational person. Among his siblings and friends, he had always been the peacemaker. The one to soothe the ruffled feathers and dry the tears. It had never bothered him- he had always liked helping people understand each other and feel better. It was such a hassle to fight and miscommunicate and all that, being confrontational just seemed like a waste of time. He also wasn’t a very big fan of rich people. They were annoying, entitled and wildly out of touch with anything outside of their precious little bubble- dealing with them also seemed like a waste of time. And yet, despite his hatred of confrontation and the rich, he had accepted a job as a secretary at the Wayne Enterprises (formerly Wayne-Powers) headquarters. The commute wasn’t bad, and the pay was amazing, but unfortunately, it meant weekly encounters with his least favorite kind of people.
Confrontational rich people.
At five until four, this person had bustled into his lobby in an overpriced suit and condescending attitude thick enough to cut. They came right up to his desk, took one look down their nose at his name plaque, sneered and said (in what was surely the Whitest voice they could muster), “I’m here to see Mr. Wayne.”
Ugh. What he would give to be able to bodily toss people like this one out the building. Sadly, he was a secretary, not a bouncer, so he just smiled and said, “And do you have an appointment code?”
The person huffed and rolled their eyes.
“ You have the computer. Can’t you read English? Check it yourself.”
Rich and racist. Lovely.
“I will check, but due to security concerns, all guests are required to show appointment codes before being allowed into a meeting. It’s company policy.”
From the way this person reacted, you would’ve thought Ahmed had thrown up all over their luxury brand shoes.
“I don’t care. You should see me on the schedule for four o’clock. I’m very busy today and you know I’m coming. Just let me in the meeting.”
His schedule did indeed have a meeting with Reese Manning listed for four pm, but all guests were required to identify themselves and provide appointment codes before being permitted past the lobby, especially here on the upper floors, so Ahmed wasn’t allowed to volunteer any of the info he had in case it allowed potential imposters to craft a better lie. So, he just had to grit his teeth and say, “I’m sorry, I can’t do that. You should’ve gotten an email with a QR code when you set up your meeting. If not, I would be happy to send you one right now.”
“No, I told you I don’t care. I have a meeting with Mr. Wayne in four minutes and I won’t have some Paki pussy slagging it up.”
Actually, Ahmed was Egyptian, not Pakistani, but when had that ever mattered to dregs like Manning?
“According to company policy, and for the sake of Mr. Wayne’s safety, you’re not allowed in without first confirming your identity. I can either help you find your code, or I can call security to escort you out.”
“Are you threatening me?” cried Manning, aghast, “Young man I could have-”
“Excuse me, is there a problem here?” said a new voice. Ahmed looked and saw it belonged to the teenager he had seen come in with Mr. Wayne, earlier. They were tall, of East Asian descent and dressed like they had just walked out of class- backpack included. Ahmed had only worked at WE a few months, but he had seen this kid hanging around with his boss before. Maybe they were a grandkid? Or an assistant? Either way, they were using a good customer service voice and hopefully here to come to Ahmed’s rescue.
“ Yes ,” droned Manning. “This man is being rude and uncooperative. I’m in a hurry and he’s refusing to let me into my meeting with Mr. Bruce Wayne. I want him reported and I want to be let in.”
“Oh, so you’re busy and Mr. Hatim is messing up your appointment?” they asked.
“Yes.” Manning replied.
“Alright, lemme get that for you.” the kid said (with a suspicious amount of enthusiasm) before bringing out their phone and tapping around for a moment. “Reese Manning? For four o’clock?”
“Yes.”
"Not anymore! Since you're so busy I decided to just clear up your schedule for you! Don't worry, I'm sure Mr. Wayne will understand the need to cancel. Feel free to call the front office if you want to make a new appointment."
While Manning spluttered himself into a spizfit, Ahmed refreshed the scheduling site to find that sure enough, the man’s meeting had been deleted. Awe swelled in Ahmed’s heart as he looked at the kid with newfound appreciation.
“You- you-”
“It’s best to reschedule as soon as you can, sir. Mr. Wayne is very busy, something I’m sure you can relate to, so you’d better call before his slots fill up.”
Manning opened and closed his mouth a few more times before giving the kid the stink eye and dialing a number on his cell.
The phone on Ahmed’s desk rang.
He picked it up.
“Thank you for contacting Wayne Enterprises. You’ve reached Bruce Wayne’s private office, how can I help you?”
And gleefully watched a look or horror grow on Manning’s face.
“I need to make an appointment with Mr. Wayne.” the prick choked out, wincing when he heard his voice echoing through the room and the call. He went to hang up, but a pointed cough from the kid froze him in his tracks.
“Okay, I’m going to need a name and email address.”
Manning provided them.
“Perfect. Okay, it looks like the earliest time slot we have available is a week from now at three. Would that work for you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, great. You’ll be sent an email shortly with your appointment code. Be sure to provide them as proof of identity before your meeting. If you don’t receive the email, be sure to call right away and we’ll sort that out for you. Thank you.” Ahmed said before hanging up. He had never been happier to recite a script in his life.
Having apparently regained some of his wits, Manning- face turning an impressive shade of red in his anger and embarrassment- whirled on the kid and hissed "I could have you fired for this."
To which they replied with a smug, "Which I'm sure Mr. Wayne will be happy to discuss at your meeting with him next Thursday."
Manning fumed and stormed out to the elevators, leaving Ahmed alone with his newfound hero, who immediately turned to him with a shark-like grin.
“There’s totally slots open before Thursday, aren’t there?”
Ahmed smirked and gave a little shrug.
“Maybe. You said it yourself, Mr. Wayne’s a busy guy.”
They laughed.
“I’m Terry, by the way. He/they. Sorry you had to deal with that dude.”
“I’m Ahmed- he/him.” he said, gesturing to his little plaque. “And, you know, it comes with the job.”
“The racism doesn’t. It’s no loss to WE to get rid of dregs like that.”
“Oh, slag- I have to tell Mr. Wayne that-”
“It’s okay, I got it. Wayne’s gonna be totally schway with it, promise. I’m his PA so I’m like, his favorite person. He was probably dreading having to deal with that guy, anyways.” they said, waving Ahmed down when he started to stand and jogging over to the office doors where they poked their head in and said, “Hey, Bruce, that Manning guy was being a racist dipsh*t to Mr. Hatim so I made him reschedule for next week.”
“I’m paraphrasing here, but the boss says slag that guy,” reported Terry after a moment.
Ahmed couldn’t help but chuckle. Thank goodness he had landed a job with the apparently one decent rich person out there.
“I gotta blip now, but here’s my number in case you need someone else chewed out, or if you’re just too scared to ask Mr. Wayne for something. Trust me, I’ve worked with him for years, we’ve all been there. Actually, Yuki Sakatani, ze works on the floor below this one, once told me about how-” their phone chimed and they shot him a sheepish look. “Sorry, gotta go. Talk to you later, Mr. Hatim! Dropkick a racist for me!”
“Will do, kid!” Ahmed called to Terry’s retreating form. They waved and entered an elevator, thus ending Ahmed’s first interaction with his new favorite coworker.