Notes: It's the holiday season! Best time to get all cheesy hehehe.

It started with an innocent question. Dusty was five, so he was full of them; but the question was still...unexpected, to say the least. And Dick had never thought his son was thinking about it.

Tim and Bruce had left in a hurry for W.E., and Alfred had just left with Damian to take the teen to school. That left Dick, Dusty, and Barbara eating breakfast in the manor's kitchen table. Dusty's kindergarten doesn't begin until a quarter of an hour later so they were taking their time enjoying each other's company - until Dusty spoke up.

"Aunt Barbara? I have something im-port-tant to ask you."

"Oh really?" Barbara tossed the five year old a smile. "Ask away, munchkin."

"Can you be my mommy?"

Shocked, Barbara paused mid-bite. Dick fared no better with the surprising question; he'd promptly spat out his mouthful of coffee all over the table. Alfred wasn't going to be happy when he comes back and sees the growing brown stain on the pristine, white tablecloth.

"Dusty!" Dick, forgetting about Alfred's disapproval for a moment, could only stare at his son's guileless eyes. He didn't know whether to be scandalized that Dusty would replace his mother so easily (wasn't it just two weeks ago that he'd learned about Cheyenne?) or be saddened that Dusty would want to have a mother, or be happy because his son - his son - chose Babs to be a second mother.

But in all his flickering emotions, he was sure he didn't want to see what the expression was on Babs' face. That he still had feelings for her wasn't a secret; but whether she still returned those feelings or was willing to do something about them was the problem.

"Dusty," Babs' voice was indeed colder than it had been when she arrived and Dick still refused to look at her. He didn't want to be the subject of her fury again, especially when he hadn't even done anything that would make her mad. "Why do you want me to be your mommy?"

Dusty's forehead scrunched in a frown as he thought. "Because...you're nice? And pretty." The boy nodded sagely at his answers.

"And...?" Babs prompted.

But Dusty just looked back at her in confusion. "And what, Aunt Barbara?"

"I can't be the only woman who's been nice to you. Or the only pretty one."

The confusion cleared. "Ohh... Then..." Dusty broke into a bright smile that practically lit up the entire room. "I know! Because you like Daddy and Daddy likes you!"

Barbara and Dick exchanged a wide-eyed look.

"Son..." Dick moved from his seat to kneel on the tiled floor in front of his son's chair. "Dusty, yes, I and Aunt Barbara like each other, but it's just as friends."

"But if you're just friends, why can't Aunt Barbara be my mommy too?" Dusty asked, glancing between the two. "Kevin said that his mommy and daddy were best friends before they got married. Aren't you two best friends?"

Dick and Babs exchanged another look.

"Well, yes, but-"

"Then why can't you get married?"

Dick closed his eyes and fought back a weary sigh. "Kiddo, what brought this on?"

Dusty's eyes took on a watery sheen. "Everyone talks about their mommies, b-but I don't have one..."

"Dusty, we need to head to school now. We can discuss this more later." The last bit he directed more towards Barbara than his son. It had been years since they promised each other to 'talk', and Dick had just realized it was high time they did so before yet another crisis comes knocking.

Babs gave him a nod in reply. They would talk when he returned later.

As promised, Babs was waiting for him when he got back from dropping Dusty off at school. She was sitting beside one of the armchairs in the living room with a complete tea tray on the table before her and the television tuned into one of those early morning news shows. The silence in the Manor almost threw him for a loop until he remembered: Bruce and Tim had work, Damian had school, and Alfred - the butler must have been the one to set the tea tray - must be off doing any one of his thousand chores somewhere. That left him alone with Barbara, the girl he'd had a crush on for almost a decade.

"Babs?" he stepped carefully into the room. Despite their promise to talk, he was still unsure of how volatile Babs might be.

"They found Nikka Armone." Her voice was devoid of emotion, like she was talking about the weather. "Just before midnight last night."

"Who?"

She turned her head to face him and her green eyes were full of an expression he couldn't name. "Nikka Armone. She was suspected of embezzling money from the Regal Hotel. They found her hiding out in a friend's house."

"Oh. So she really did steal the money?"

"Her father was sick and she needed money. Insurance wouldn't cover the hospitalization and she was barely making enough for the medicine he needs. She thought she had no choice."

"What happened? Is the father okay? What's the verdict?" Dick asked, taking a seat on the armchair next to Babs. He was both curious and concerned at the same time; neither he nor Bruce wanted to see anyone have to live with the death of a loved one when society could do something to help, and they'd both set up charitable foundations for such cases. But sometimes, despite all their billions, their foundations, and the extra 'night work', it felt like they were just two caring souls against the whole apathetic world.

But Babs shook her head. "The news doesn't say. There should be a follow up in the evening or in a couple of days."

Then she sighed and switched off the television with a remote. "Enough of that. I can always do my own follow up when I get back. For now," she turned to face him again, "we still need to talk."

Dick nodded. "I'm all ears."

"Right. So." Her face and voice turned serious as she crossed her arms. "Did you tell Dusty to say what he did this morning?"

It was like she had slapped him hard enough to leave him reeling even though her arms never moved from their position. Dick sputtered indignantly as he declared, "Of course not! I never told him to say any of that! If you think I set him up as a sort of lure to guilt you into accepting, you've got it wrong. I won't use Dusty like that."

"At least, not obviously." She muttered drily.

"What?"

She raised an eyebrow. "And you didn't impress on him that you'd like 'Aunt Babs' to live with you and raise him?"

Dick threw his hands up in the air. "Babs! I've loved you for years! That's the only thing I've been impressing on him."

Babs sighed again and dropped her gaze. "I love you too, Dick. But I don't see us getting back together anytime soon."

"Why not?" He pressed. He'd had this talk with her before, and that time she gave him some vague excuses on why they couldn't be in a relationship. It hurt - a lot - but he accepted her reasons and gave her space. Now though, with no crisis on the horizon, he hoped the reasons she gave him were more concrete; reasons that he could work on overcoming or fighting, whatever it took. "We love each other," he told her. "We're not wanting for anything, and Dusty needs a mom."

"And are you sure you want me to be his mom?" She slapped a hand over the arm of her wheelchair. "Dick, I don't want this to come between us."

Dick frowned, a feeling of déjà vu falling over him as Babs rehashed the same argument they'd had years ago. "You know as well as I do the chair doesn't matter to me. And neither does it matter to Dusty."

"So he feels now. What happens when he grows up, gets into middle school, and his classmates laugh at him for his crip of a mom?" He winced at the slur Babs said but she kept on, "How do you think he'll feel when everyone starts giving him pitying looks because his mom's disabled? How-"

"Babs, can't you let this go?" He grabbed at the arms of her wheelchair, interrupting her in mid-rant. "Babs, it doesn't matter to us what people-"

"No, I can't let this go, Dick! If you haven't noticed, it's my legs! And it's been that way for years! It's part and parcel of my life!"

"That's not what I meant!" He tightened his grip on the arms, hearing the leather creak. "Babs, Babs, stop planning. What you're thinking of, it's still years away and-"

"No, Dick." She was shaking her head vigorously, her voice starting to break on the cusp of anger and pain. "I can't stop planning. I can't stop thinking. I survived being Batgirl because I'm good at planning. I'm valued as Oracle because I'm thorough."

"I know. You're the strongest person I know because of it."

She raised a hand to silence him. "Dick, stop it. You're not making your case better by flattery."

"I was just-"

"Look. A decade ago, I had my life planned out." Her hand dropped back into her lap though she kept her gaze away. "I retired from being Batgirl. I was going to college. And then it all changed because I opened the door."

Immediately, Dick felt like...well, like a dick. She'd been living with this old pain for years, with her unfeeling legs a constant reminder of what she'd lost and couldn't have again. "Babs, I'm sorry-"

"I had to make adjustments." She continued as if she didn't hear him, "I had to change my identity! I had to give up walking or dancing or gymnastics and I had no choice about it. All because I opened one. Single. Door."

"Babs, I-"

"But I've moved on. I became Oracle and the biggest info-hub for the entire JLA. And I did all that while I'm stuck. In. this. Chair!"

She turned away from him and though it was quickly hidden, Dick thought he detected a hint of tears in her green eyes and at that moment, he knew what he had to do. This was no longer about Dusty, or about him and what the future could bring. This was all about her; her grief, her fear of changes coming to her, and her inner pain of being left behind. So he bent down and picked her up from her chair.

"Dick, what are you-"

"Shh, Babs." She was lighter than he remembered. Had she lost weight and he didn't even notice? "Just shhh. Let me take care of you. Just this once. Please."

She sighed and relaxed in his arms. "You're not making my decision for me-"

With a little stretch of his arm, he managed to tap her lips with a fingertip. "Stop thinking, Babs. Just be."

"We are not arguing existentialism here, are we?" Her voice was still relaxed, teasing, as he arranged them on the couch so she was lying on top of him.

"Of course not." He snorted. "You'd throw me in loops before I knew it. I was never that good at philosophy."

"So says the guy who hung out with someone like Raven."

"That was different. I didn't have to argue with her about starting from a blank state when it's obvious she never started from a blank one."

"Sins of the father."

He nodded. "Exactly."

The next few minutes were spent in silence, just the two of them enjoying each other's presence and trying very hard not to think about anything of importance. Dick had been practically dozing when Babs spoke again.

"Hm?"

"Were you sleeping?" her green eyes were sparkling even as her tone held a challenge.

"No...well, maybe a little," he admitted. "What were you saying?"

A corner of her lips quirked up. "I was asking where you kept the ring I gave back."

That drew his attention from drowsy to full alertness. He sat up and looked down at the woman lying on his lap. "Babs...?"

The smile widened. "I was thinking I'll take a page from your book and take a leap. So," she shifted so they were both at eye level with each other. "The answer's still yes. And this time, I promise I'll see it through."

"No," he took her hand, feeling his heart soar. "We'll see it through. Together."

"Together." She agreed.