#Danny’s phone is busted and he’s got no ID to prove he is who he says he is

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Sawyer through (dp x dc)

Danny hadn’t meant to get lost, really he hadn’t. This was the field trip every Casper High student looked forward to, and Danny had been no exception. It had never been the plan to miss out on the Met (also known as the Metropolis Museum of Arts). Sure, he wasn’t the biggest fan of art, but this was the museum that was in all the movies set in Metropolis, the skyscraper capital of the world. And even if one excluded romcoms, that was a a whole lot. Sam, Tucker and him had even planned to recreate a few of their favourite scenes from Ferris Bueller’s day off with a few paintings.

So, yeah. Danny would so much rather be there rather than on the sketchiest street he’d ever seen, where he felt like he was about to get shanked at every corner.

“Think positive,” he muttered to himself. “I can still call for help,” he said even as he fished his phone out of his bag.

As he flipped it open, ready to call Sam, something rammed into him from the back and the phone went flying. With an oof, Danny fell to the pavement, as he lost his grip on his still-open bag in favor of stopping himself from eating cement.

As he slowly got back to his feet with a groan, he caught sight of a dark figure, hunched over his bag who immediately took off in a dash with what looked like his wallet.

“Hey!” Danny yelled as he scrambled to his feet. “Hey! That’s mine!” 

As he finally got to his feet, prepared to give chase, a voice sounded from behind.

“Freeze! MPD, turn around slowly with your hands above your head!”

Danny jumped at the noise and turned around before the voice had finished. There he found a tall woman wearing a police badge, with a gun in her hands. The only reason Danny hadn’t squeaked in fear at the sight was that the gun was trained on the floor.

“Hands above your head!” The woman said again.

“Wait,” Danny tried even as he complied. “You’ve got the wrong person.”

The woman slowly walked around Danny towards his open bag as she answered. “Oh, really?”

“I’m a student, I’m on a field trip with with my class.”

“They’re giving tours of the Suicide Slums, now?” The woman asked sarcastically, as she chanced a quick look down at the bag.

“No,” Danny tried to resist the urge to snark at the police officer. “They do tours of the met museum.”

“Alright, buddy,” the woman said. “Then how do you explain this.”

And in a smooth move, she had upended Danny’s bag onto the ground. His initial outrage was quickly replaced with shock as huge stacks of cash fell down on the busted street as if by magic.

“That’s not mine!” Danny exclaimed urgently. 

“I’m guessing this isn’t yours either?” The policewoman said as she nudged something metallic from the pile and Danny’s eyes widened as he recognized the shape of a gun. Not one of the Fenton ones, but an actual, real, gun.

“I-“ Danny started but couldn’t find the words to follow through. The blond woman sighed 

“Come on,” she said. “I’m talking you down to the station.”