Devil's Consultancy 50

She didn’t need to overcomplicate matters. Clark Kent’s fostering of the unfortunate Billy Batson was a matter of public record… subject to confidentiality laws. Wayne Enterprises has had some kind of presence in Metropolis for years, if only to spit in Lex Luthor’s eye, so the purchase and renovation of an abortion clinic that was closed due to insufficient staff into one of ArcWayne’s ritual clinics (where medical rituals, including blood sample purification, was performed en masse) was a long overdue and simple move: the most difficult part was staffing the place.

Bruce Wayne got an interview with the Daily Planet, which had recently expanded its offerings to some video content on the internet, skipping traditional broadcasting altogether as newspapers became less relevant and the much less costly alternative that did not require stocking a full 24 hours of material became available. Clark Kent asking questions that were, mostly, just handed to him for Bruce to deliver equally canned answers to, addressing all of the various concerns that gets the aforementioned clinics protested and boycotted, it was all pro forma enough that the actual interview wasn’t even necessary. 

Until… “So, in other news, Bruce.” Clark said, the camera still rolling. “You recently adopted another child, correct?” 

“Yes.” Bruce said firmly. “Jason’s had a bit of a troubled past, but then again, so did Dick, in a different way.”

“I can’t imagine Dick liking that, after he just left for college.” Clark mused. 

“It wasn’t my smartest move, rushing ahead with it. But it was the right thing to do.” Bruce freely admitted, “Tanya was furious that I adopted someone else, and it took a little bit for her to stop asking Alfred to count the silverware. It’s fine though.” 

“Did she do that with Dick?” Clark asked, genuinely curious. 

“She was too young.” Bruce said dismissively. “She wasn’t exactly Dick’s biggest fan, of course, but that was pure jealousy. This probably was too, but it passed quickly enough.” Bruce visibly glanced away from both Clark and the cameras. “Before the interview, I heard through the grapevine that you’ve fostered a boy yourself. Very noble of you.”

Clark was a pretty good actor; he looked genuinely bashful. “Thank you, but we’re not here to talk about me.”

“I love talking about my interviewer.” Bruce said glibly, “I do a lot of interviews, and answering the same questions gets boring sometimes. Besides, we can edit it out. Now, his name is… Billy, right?”

“Uh… Mr. Wayne?” Clark said, looking to all the world like he was panicking. “This is a livestream.”

Bruce’s ‘what.’ face was a thing of beauty. Having known this was coming, she immediately screencapped it and deployed the meme on her Perch account. 

Richest 11-year old in the world (verified)

@therealTanyaWayne
Behold the power of the five second broadcast delay! I have… the first post! #Bruciegaffe #notagain
BruceWaynewat.jpg

“Look at mine.” Billy said, showing off his new phone and corresponding Perch account. 

Billy Batson
@AlaShazam
Below: Bruce Wayne being told he forgot to put on pants this morning. #Bruciegaffe

BruceWaynewat.jpg

Within seconds, a flurry of new memes at the old ‘Bruce did something stupid on camera again’ hashtag was exploding on the internet. The two of them giggled at the metaphorical fire they just started. 

Bruce and Clark were visibly distracted on camera, looking at them. “Looks like they’re getting along.” Clark quipped, which queued one of the cameras to swivel at them. 

Tanya looked annoyed at the camera, and brought out one of her wands, which sparked with magical power. The camera quickly panned away. A different, subtler, camera that Tanya pretended not to notice was still pointed in their direction, and allowed those watching the livestream to see her ‘off camera’ interaction. Specifically, grabbing Billy by the hand and dragging him away from the interview. She’ll have to review the video later to see if he looked properly gobsmacked or otherwise put off kilter.  It was important to be a good actor if you wanted to keep a secret identity, and his transformation won’t help him forever… unless he did something asinine like never exercise in his original body, she supposed. 

“Don’t do anything to disappoint Alfred!” Bruce called out to them. Later, she reviewed the video on what happened next: “You can get, like, an intern to watch them, right?”

“Do interns at Wayne Enterprises get put on babysitting duty?” Clark asked, drawing attention back to the actual interview. 

“Not for my kids, no.” Bruce said, “My personal assistants handle that, it’s part of their contract, paid extra when they do.” He steepled his fingers. “Do I need to worry about that boy being a bad influence?”

“No, no.” Clark said easily, having seemingly forgotten that this was an interview and instead broadcasting further reinforcement of their respective secret identities. “If anything, I should be worrying about your Tanya corrupting him. All that witchcraft, you know.”

“She doesn’t like the word ‘witch’.” Bruce said, a lie specifically constructed to disassociate Witch Girl with her identity. “She prefers ‘occultist’.”

“Does that actually mean anything?” Clark asked. 

“Well, if you listen to my top magical girl?” Bruce asked, “No. Tanya likes occultist as a word because it makes her sound more like she belongs to a secret society. Did you know she asked me if I was part of a secret society?”

“Are you?” Clark asked. 

“No, of course not.” Bruce lied, “Even if I was, I wouldn’t just go out and say it. What kind of secret society would allow that kind of sloppiness?”

“An excellent question. But Perry’s face looks like he’s about to explode, so did I forget any of my scripted questions…” Clark checked his notes. “Ah, just one more: Is there anything you’d like to say in response to Lex Luthor’s statement against using, and I quote: ‘Barbaric, inefficient superstitions’ in place of ‘real medical science’?”

“I think I’ll just quote Tanya,” He paused, “The older one, Degurechaff, when I say: Experimentation and repeatability are the two fulcrums which science changes the world. If magic can be replicated en masse, it is not a mystery, but a technology. Just because you don’t think it makes sense doesn’t mean it doesn’t hold to its own internal logic.”

“Well said.”

-----------------------

With just that one interaction, just putting slightly more effort into something that was going to happen anyway, Tanya didn’t need an excuse to interact with Billy Batson anymore. Clark also didn’t need an excuse anymore to hang out with Bruce outside of their uniforms either, so the plan worked out swimmingly. 

She didn’t regret it, either. At least, not immediately. When Billy was more comfortable and not so off balance, he was smarter than she initially gave him credit, never forgetting something she explained, while still offering surprising insights from another perspective that made competent subordinates so much more valuable then simply cloning oneself to expand your productivity (which, unlike in her previous lives, was not a metaphor in this one). 

Mostly, he reminded her, when discussing her public relations efforts, reminded her to keep focused on the narrative instead of getting lost in minutiae. Marketing’s higher, more complex, levels were all about narrative, and she had never had the firmest grasp of that particular facet. Billy’s perspective was a lot closer to the average American than Tanya’s was, so his insight was welcome. 

Captain Marvel still made appearances, of course: While Tanya frowned at the very concept of the Wisdom of Solomon, it was still sufficient to allow him to avoid making any obvious mistakes while going on his own, so while it was dangled in front of him as a privilege that could be revoked, and Captain Marvel appeared to the public as having made friends with Superman, given the increase in sightings of them working together, he was allowed to continue his vigilante activities. Billy did not do a single thing to dissuade them from the idea that he’d be just as impossible to corral as Richard was when his crimefighting time was not used as incentive. 

“So, what is this about?” Billy asked, as Tanya fussed over his tie. How did he screw it up this badly? 

“This particular gala is for…” Tanya took a moment to remember. Oh yeah, it was- “-additional relief from that hurricane last month in Vietnam. The first wave of aid’s all well and good, but rebuilding can take a long time. I think I have a flyer…” She reached into her pocket dimension and withdrew an advertising gala. “No, this is for the last gala, the Children’s Hospital one.” She crumbled it and threw it back into her pocket dimension before once more trying to untangle Billy’s tie. What did he do? “I don’t remember what specific projects this is supposed to support, but it’s important to flatter the wealthy donors if you want them to open their pocketbooks.” This was your standard ‘vastly overpay for a meal’ type of charity, which was usually the superior model when dealing with causes that didn’t have a lot of glamor to them. Bruce’ll make a show over donating an extra million or ten, and that usually got a few particularly competitive or easily shamed sorts to donate an amount pegged to that number. “There’s a bit of an art to making them donate the most while wasting the least money, and the various Wayne Foundations have mastered it.” If you’re bad at it, you can spend more money than you could collect, and sometimes that incompetence conceals criminal intent. It’s a serious problem.

“Really? How does that work?” Billy asked as she shredded his hopelessly knotted tie and brought out a new one, tying it for him. Fortunately, it was a simple black tie, which she had an ample supply of. 

“I don’t know every detail, but the short version is that whatever Bruce donates sets the tone: if he donates a small amount, so will everyone else.” There. He no longer looked… Well, he looked less like a commoner. “If we donate too much, they get disheartened, and start thinking about what they’re giving up by donating.”

“Don’t they get tax benefits, though?” Billy asked. 

Tanya patted his face. “You’re cute, but that’s not how it works.” She said, leading to the boy blushing up a storm, which was still amusing. “There’s limits as to how many charitable deductions you’re allowed to claim, and if the deductions you’re claiming are being paid with actual money? You’re still losing more money than you’re saving. No, the savings comes from when you’re not actually paying money but still claiming the deduction, like having expensive paintings you own hanging in an art museum.” That was probably the easiest tax dodge to understand for the laymen, there were far more complicated tricks that the labyrinthine American tax code allowed for without requiring a single misrepresentation of your financial status. 

“Y-you’re really pretty too!” Billy stammered. 

Tanya laughed. “Billy, of course I’m pretty. Being an heiress carries many obligations, only one of which is maintaining an aesthetic standard.” While she could, theoretically, flout norms like maintaining her beauty like she did when impersonating a younger child, the very idea of doing so now disgusted her. It was one thing to hew to the standards of the military officer that she was, but when she was of a social caste that required the pageantry that her current one did, to disregard them was anathema to her soul. “But thank you.” Dangit, her voice cracked. 

“It’s not just the makeup, though!” Billy said, stubbornly dismissing her dismissal. He grabbed Tanya by both shoulders, looking at her straight in the eye. “You’re super pretty, even without it.”

“There’s more to a beauty regimen than makeup, Billy.” Tanya repeated, forcibly keeping her tone steady as she felt her own face flush. She lightly shoved at his hands. He retracted them immediately. “Actually, let me show you why my skin’s so radiant.” She put her hands together and opened them, revealing a tin of skin cream. “This is literally magical. You know how you have a zit right there?” She said, pointing to the blemish in question. 

“You noticed?” Billy asked, disappointed. 

Tanya didn’t need words to tell him how stupid that question was. After she stared at him for long enough that she knew the message was received, she opened the tin, took a tiny dollop onto a finger, and applied it to the zit. She took out a makeup removal wipe, waited two seconds, and removed the cream. “See? Gone. This is my most overtly magical beauty product, but there’s a lot of money and magic that goes into looking this good.” Admittedly, she had been getting a little flak from overly opinionated social media influencers for how much attention she paid to her appearance, but that was irrelevant. She wasn’t going to half-ass her role. “...Actually, the patch of nicer skin is distracting. Did you even wash your face this morning? Hang on.” She took a more generous dollop and spread it over the rest of his face. 

“Moving on!” Billy said as he struggled against her forcible beautification of his face, but he lacked the will to exert the force necessary to overpower her demonic strength. She had been working with him on using Shazam’s blessings in his true form, letting him sit in on Jason, Ace, and Raven’s magic lessons, but he couldn’t bring them out as casually as she could her own demon magic. “What am I doing here again?”

“You’re my plus one.” Tanya said, slowly reiterating her previous statement. “That means you don’t leave my side for long, you keep the boys I went over with you earlier from speaking to me, and otherwise just act as my loyal minion for the festivities as the both of us just stand around and look pretty.”

“Those handsome guys?” Billy asked, “Gene, Myles, Abbot, Roman, Barry?” Calling too-young boys as ‘handsome’, when she was in one of her other bodies and could think more clearly about them, was overselling things, but they were certainly pretty and had features that pointed to future attractiveness. For the same reasons she was pretty, albeit without the magic. 

“Yes, them.” Tanya confirmed, “Also Timothy, but for a different reason. He tried to slip me holy water a while back, so he might notice if I end up doing something suspicious.”

“Being a billionaire’s boyfriend is weird.” Billy decided. 

“Welcome to my public life.” That was approximately when Bruce said she should do better with keeping to proper manners. “As children of the rich and famous, we are accessories, meant to be paraded around and occasionally bade to perform tricks.” It’s not like children being used to show off a parent’s status was a new concept, or exclusive to the wealthy, but Alfred learned pretty fast that she preferred to hear a cynical truth over a polished euphemism. She can shine up the language just fine herself. “You’re my accessory, to be paraded with me. No tricks, though.” He’d just embarrass himself if he tried to show off how cultured he was. 

“Okay, but remind me why I agreed to this?” Billy asked.

“Because I asked for help and you agreed before you knew what I needed from you.” Tanya deadpanned. “Jason’s not here to bail me out if I end up nearly fainting,” again. Those boys were dangerous to her pre-teen heart. “-and I do not want Bruce to have an excuse to watch me make a fool of myself.” The advantage of bringing Billy is that she should manage to avoid making a fool of herself at all. “Most importantly, you are to not attempt to make any ‘moves’, got it? 

The door opened, and Bruce poked his head in. “Are you two ready yet?”

“Ready!” Billy affirmed. “Don’t worry Tanya, I’ll protect you.” He said, flashing her a grin that was full of bravado while flexing his arm, a faint but visible set of dancing magical sparks wrapping around the limb before vanishing. 

After a too-long pause, taken aback by the sudden image of competence and bravery shown by Billy, Tanya growled, her face burning. “What did I say about moves!”

“Sorry.”

-----------------------

“Hello, Tanya.” Jacob Kane greeted, approaching the spot she’d settled into to take a break: a balcony that had a nice bench. Everyone who came has been greeted by either her, Diana, or Bruce, introduced to at least one other attendee, and left to chat with other rich people, immediately getting what most of them want out of these galas: networking opportunities. It was the most important duty of the hosts, and while they’d need to mix things up later, make more introductions and do some donation solicitations, she didn’t need to spend every moment helping Bruce with that. Besides, while she could magically refresh any actual fatigue or sores from walking around in heels, talking to so many people was exhausting. 

“It’s good to see you again, Uncle.” Tanya lied politely. Billy seemed to pick up on her hidden irritation, and started to move. “Down.” Tanya said, touching his shoulder. In a continuation of his guard dog impersonation, Billy settled back. 

Jacob nodded in approval. “It’s been too long.” He commented, “Who is this young man?”

“Billy Batson.” the boy said, holding out his hand politely. Jacob paused, assessing Billy’s posture, before gripping it firmly. There was a juvenile contest of strength, but Billy had already mastered basic magical reinforcement without creating visual effects, so losing was not on the table for him. 

“Firm grip.” Jacob commented, “I am Jacob Kane.”

“CEO of Kane Industries, former Colonel in the Army,” Something with Special Forces, details classified, and despite the temptation, Bruce and Barbie only hacked the Pentagon for good reasons, not simply to satisfy curiosity. Like looking into that ‘Cadmus’ business, and come to think of it she really should have heard something back about that by now… “-and Daddy’s uncle on his mother’s side.” Tanya listed. In other words, he was in his sixties, and thus… old. He took care of himself, though: not to the point of using the skin treatment, but he looked to be Bruce’s age instead of two decades older. 

“I could have risen higher in the Army,” Jacob boasted, “-but I needed to take over the company. Cutting edge military technology doesn’t develop itself.” Kane Industries was one of the companies that got some of the alien salvage, and as a result had developed a practical vehicle mounted railgun. Jacob’s responsibility for this development was, as is typical for any CEO, minimal. It was a rare one, like herself and Lex Luthor, who actively participated in the development of the technologies in question. 

“Wow.” Billy said, in his usual… wait, not his usual manner. Was he… politely lying to flatter his conversation partner? They grow up so fast. “Thank you for your service.”

Jacob’s body language somehow became even more proud of himself. “Well Tanya, he may not belong here, but at least he’s respectful.” Wow. How long has it been since he’s spoken with someone who is neither a millionaire nor paid to tolerate him? “You should be making friends with the other children of important families, not bringing them in from the street.”

The ironic part was that Billy wasn’t even poor. While Ebenezer did fritter away a solid chunk of the boy’s inheritance, he intended to live on it for a long time, so there was still plenty to reclaim, currently locked up in a trust that Clark couldn’t touch, save for a stipend earmarked for Billy’s care. Yes, Clark wouldn’t even dream of stealing it, but it would look incredibly strange to move Billy from one financially abusive household only to put him in another without taking precautions against a repeat performance. 

But he wasn’t rich rich, just owned one estate (which was currently being renovated for usage as a bed and breakfast) and some assets instead of businesses, so he might as well be gutter trash as far as someone like Uncle Jacob was concerned. So she glanced at Billy, leaned towards the older man, and gestured for him to lean down. Once Jacob got close, she stage-whispered: “You said the quiet part out loud. You’re not supposed to tell the donors that they’re poorer than you. Even if it’s true.” Billy snorted in laughter at her repeating the words she said earlier, in a different context. “I’m sure Alfred’ll be willing to brush your etiquette up to standard.”

“I know for a fact that he’s only worth seven figures.” Jacob argued, his voice clear and regal even at a whisper. So he did the research before opening his mouth, good. “He can’t afford a plate here.” It was only ten grand, it would have been an unwisely large chunk of his accessible wealth, exactly the kind of spending that his trust was designed to prevent, but he absolutely could have, if he didn’t make a habit of it. 

“He still made a voluntary donation.” Tanya corrected. She couldn’t have stopped him if she tried, not that she did. “Thus, he’s a donor.”

“You know you can’t get away with being obtuse just because you’re a child anymore, right?” Jacob asked, clearly annoyed. 

“Of course I can.” Tanya said back. “I could bring in an actual orphan off the streets of the Bowery to join me, and everyone will just smile and nod and say ‘Nice to meet you, Mr. Todd’, because I am a Wayne, and that means something.” She glared at the older man imperiously. “If anyone could understand that, I’d think it’d be you.”

The ex-Colonel grinned at her biting comments. “Well, I can’t argue with that.” He said genially. “That’s the kind of attitude that the Wayne family needs. Bruce doesn’t have enough pride in what his parents have passed down to him, it’s… irritating to see sometimes.”

“Well, when I take over, things will be different around here.” Tanya promised. She was kind of lying; not so much that she had plans that aren’t things Bruce would do, but that she’d be waiting until formal control was passed over to her to attempt to implement them. “Bruce is too soft, Wayne Enterprises has been rising in wealth and power for years, and he’s still treating it as if he needs to care about not stepping on everyone’s toes.” Bruce’s attempts to fight the city’s inherent corruption has been stymied at every turn, but she had been concocting a plan on how to clean out the magical cesspit, and while it wasn’t finished, she had already determined that it would require some very… aggressive real estate purchases. “You just need to get the important people on side.” Like the various practitioners that she’d need to, if not necessarily help, at least stay out of the way. Also the environmentalist people who will absolutely object to draining Slaughter Swamp, a critical step in the whole process. 

Jacob was smiling in approval as she outlined her plan. Billy, on the other hand… “Uh… you kind of sound like a supervillain, Tanya.”

She snorted with laughter as Jacob scowled at the boy. “Anything ambitious can sound like that if you’re vague enough.” Tanya said dismissively. “Just rest assured, my plans for the city would be to the benefit of all who matter.” Like those who come to the city because it has low rent and generous immigration programs, as was laid down back when Gotham was trying to draw in people off of New York City’s metaphorical ‘Golden Door’. Bruce had long ago revived the administration of the program, which had never been officially revoked, instead being a clandestine budget that was funneled into various corrupt actions. It was one of his first big wins as Batman. 

That wasn’t to say that she was accidentally using double speak: Jacob was nodding in agreement. “I blame the media.” He said, “They’re always saying that everyone rich is like Luthor, a criminal hiding behind their money.” This was, unfortunately, actually a decent point. Lots of rich people who have nothing particularly nefarious about them got the occasional stray accusation of being a secret supervillain. Not even Bruce’s extensive manipulation of his image made him immune, although it was rare for him. 

“Well, nevertheless, I’m glad my ambitions meet your approval.” Tanya said, half sarcastic. “Now if you’ll excuse us, the actual dinner part of the charity dinner is coming up soon and I’m famished.”

“Go along then.” Jacob said, stepping closer to the edge of the balcony so he could look over the grounds of Wayne Manor, which is where this particular dinner was being hosted. “You’ll see the error of your current misstep soon enough.” He murmured just loudly enough for her good hearing to pick up. 

Faintly, before she entered the ballroom, she could hear him faintly humming the nursery rhyme he taught her, all those years ago.