Title: Like A Love Song That Never Gets Old
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~6,000
Characters: Dick/Zatanna
Summary: AU. She's willing to bet that he feels even a little bit betrayed that his daughter is letting another person into her life.

Like A Love Song That Never Gets Old

It absolutely breaks her heart that her father doesn't approve of her boyfriend.

It's just been her and her dad for the longest time after her mother passed away when she was seven. Her dad never started dating again, and it's not because he thought he'd be betraying her mother if he did. He just hasn't looked at another woman like that since meeting her mother and nine years without her couldn't change that.

But, as incredibly sweet as that is, she thinks that's also part of the reason why he's so opposed to his daughter dating at all.

He'll never say it, because he loves her too much, but she's willing to bet that he feels even a little bit betrayed that his daughter is letting another person into her life.

He never had a thing against Dick before she told them that they were a little (okay, a lot) more than just friends, but now it seems like every little thing about Dick bothers him. And that's saying something since it's practically impossible to find things about Dick to disapprove of. He takes all of the same AP and honors courses as she does, is in all of the same community service clubs as her, does tae kwon do and gymnastics, and is student body vice president. Colleges are practically fighting over him because his grades are so good, and it's basically in his nature to be such a gentleman.

But of course her dad is able to find one thing that he can complain about.

Dick's in a band.

It's not like it's a rock band or anything, and it's not the school band, either (though he plays for them sometimes, if they need him to). It's a small jazz band and it's a recreational thing. Everyone in the band will tell you that if you ask them, because they all have their futures a little planned already and none of them are pursuing music professionally.

But it's something they used to mess around with when they were younger, and they just continued it onto middle school and high school. It sort of became like their pact, to use band practices as an excuse to spend a few hours together each week no matter how crazy and overscheduled their lives got. It's so, so sweet.

When she tried telling her dad that, he said they could be doing more with their time than messing around, if they were as serious about their future as they claimed to be.

She didn't talk to him for the rest of the night.

And Dick tells her all the time that he doesn't want to come between her and her dad, and that she should cut him some slack. The fact that Dick's always trying to defend her dad is more than enough proof of how sweet he is, and the fact that her dad still doesn't really like him after that…

She doesn't know what to do.

... ...

She's standing at her locker and sort of just staring at her books, too distracted by everything swarming around in her head to realize that she must've been frozen like that for a while, because then she feels a hand slip over hers and something small and cold being pressed into her palm. Dick leans on his arm against the lockers next to her, hands in his pockets, grinning, and she laughs a little. She already knows that there's a penny in her hand without having to even look. It's always been his way to ask what's on her mind.

"I'm thinking that I have way too much homework to bring home, and that my dad is probably going to give me the cold shoulder if I go to your practice today."

She can tell he's holding back a frown. "You don't have to go."

"Dick," she says.

He shrugs his shoulder, sets his guitar case onto the floor so he can adjust the strap of his backpack. "I always want to be with you, but I don't want to be the cause of any more trouble between you and your dad," he tells her.

"It's not your fault that he's so overprotective," she sighs.

He reaches over and tucks her hair behind her ear. "I just don't like coming between you two," he says. "It'd be different if your dad didn't love you and was just doing it to make your life miserable, but it's not like that. If he it's what he believes is best for his daughter, then of course he'll try to separate us. He probably thinks I'm just unworthy of you."

She gives him a look, says, "Dick," so softly that she's kind of surprised he even hears it.

"I know." He grins a little. "I can't say that because it sounds like a break-up line. But for the record, you are so much better than me."

"It's the other way around."

"Liar," he says, making her smile, and he grasps her arm just above her elbow, steps forward and presses their lips together. She nearly drops her books, and he chuckles against her lips as he steadies them in her arms. "Careful," he whispers. She laughs. "I should get going."

"I'll see you at practice?"

"'Tanna…"

She furrows her eyebrows. "You don't want me there?"

"I do," he corrects, "But if it's going to come between you and your dad…"

"Let me worry about my dad."

He squeezes her arm slightly, giving her this sort of sad smile. "It's your last few weeks with him," he says, and she closes her eyes at the reminder. "You love your dad so much, and I just don't want you to be mad at him when you leave for college and then end up regretting it. I don't mind grinning and bearing whatever comments he makes."

And see, that's why (well, one of the many reasons why) she loves him so much. It's not that he doesn't care if her father approves of him or not, because of course he does. But he'll tolerate that her father doesn't like him and then defend her father like this because he knows that her relationship with her father is important to her.

"Well, I mind," she reminds. "He shouldn't treat you like you're some sort of annoyance." He smiles sort of sadly again and doesn't respond, and she knew he probably wouldn't. She sighs, because she did it again: she let her dad pretty much ruin their time together. "Sorry," she mumbles.

"You don't have to be," he tells her. "So…"

She grins, leans up and kisses him on the lips again. "I'll call you later."

... ...

"You still haven't told your dad that you and Dick are going to the same college?"

She sighs, pulls her shades back over her eyes with her free hand as they're leaving the yogurt place and says, "No, because I guarantee you that if I told him now, my dad would probably like, freak out and magically find some way to make the admissions department retract my acceptance."

Raquel gives her a look. "What's to stop him from doing it even when you tell him later? Unless," she grabs Zatanna's arm suddenly, "you're not planning on telling him."

Zatann's eyes widen.

"Okay, that's good," Raquel says with a slight laugh, "because your dad would like, kill Dick if you tried that. It's not like you two could actually get away with trying to hide it for very long. I mean, aren't Dick's dad and yours friends? I always forget that."

Zatanna nods, making a face. Yeah, she sometimes forgets that they are, too.

Bruce was a friend of her mom's since their childhood, apparently, and honestly, that's what makes this entire thing even crazier. Isn't her dad ever embarrassed to be around Bruce when he so openly objects to Bruce's son dating his daughter? She's pretty sure Bruce tries to be understanding and everything, but it's kind of hard not to be offended by it.

But she's over at Dick's house a lot and Bruce treats her like gold and has never once said, or even implied, something bad about her father.

It must be in their genes to be so nice.

(Well, Dick's adopted, but whatever. You get the point.)

... ...

The band's practicing a little more lately, because Conner's dad is getting married at the end of June and obviously they're going to be playing at the reception. And obviously they want it to be one of their best performances yet, because it's probably going to be one of their last performances together before everyone packs up and leaves for college, and they're all sort of pretending that it's not as big of a deal as it really is. Gosh, she can't believe they're finishing high school in less than a month.

She's going to stop thinking about it now.

They're in Dick's sound room (yes, he has actually has one; he lives in a mansion), playing a Natalie Cole song that was arranged by Wally into a two-part harmony for Megan's high soprano and Kaldur's sultry bass. It's pretty much one of everyone's favorites.

When break for a bit, Dick walks over to where she's sitting on the carpet. "Hey," he greets, pulling the strap of his guitar over his head so that it's out of his way.

"Hi," she says back. He sets the guitar on its stand and then sits beside her, thanking her when she hands him his water bottle. "I'm really going to miss hearing you guys play once we're all spread out for college."

"Me too," he agrees, leaning his head back against the wall. "I just wish we could've played together more."

"Yeah, but I don't think you have anything to regret. You played as often as you could, with everyone's busy schedules."

He smiles, reaches over and takes her hand in his, running his thumb over her knuckles like he does sometimes, because (he's told her more than once) he loves how her skin feels against his. Yes, she realizes how that could be taken out of context, but she'd blushed at the comment because of how nonchalantly he'd said it, like it should've been obvious.

Honestly, Dick's always been so absolutely confident and sure about her abilities and her appearance, and she'll never, ever get over how it makes her feel.

"Do you think your dad will ever be okay with us?"

She blinks.

He asked it so suddenly and so quietly that, for a second, she thinks she imagined it. But he's staring at her, obviously waiting for a response. And she's thought of several to this very question, but she can't get out any of them right now. She's not ready for this conversation.

"He will, eventually," she says after a long moment. "He just… He needs to see that I'm never going to want anybody else."

"I think we've tried almost everything we could think of to convince him of that," he points out gently, and she squeezes their joined hands a little because, yeah. She knows. "And it's been almost three years."

She closes her eyes. She's really not ready for this conversation.

Because she knows that, if her dad doesn't budge by the time they leave for college – which, honestly, seems like the case – then she's probably going to have to choose.

But the thing is she knows that she's going to go to college with Dick, and she knows that she's never going to leave him, either. So she's pretty much already made her choice, and she's probably the worst daughter, ever, for choosing her boyfriend over her dad, even though it's not really like that. She'll always love her father, no matter how mad she may be that he doesn't even try to accept that Dick is a permanent part of her life now. But it still feels like she's choosing Dick over her dad, and she hates herself for it.

Dick leans over and presses a kiss to her cheek, and she smiles despite everything she was just thinking of.

"I'm sorry I brought it up. I really hate seeing you sad."

She smiles a little wider and shakes her head. He's silly for feeling like he had to apologize.

He grins, kisses her again and gets up when Megan ends the break. She closes her eyes as they start playing another song and focuses on the sound of Dick's guitar as the rest of the world just fades away.

... ...

She's sitting on one of the benches in front of the school, reading a short story by Hemingway that their teacher photocopied for them to annotate, when she hears a horn and looks up. Her dad's car is idle along the curb, and she tucks the packet back into her folder and hooks the strap of her bag over her shoulder, walking over to him.

Once she's buckled and they're on the road again, he asks, "Your boyfriend let you wait outside, alone?"

She resists rolling her eyes. God, of course he'd wait start this until she's unable to escape.

"He has practice, Dad," she says evenly.

"That band of his?" he asks.

"Mock trial practice, Dad," she corrects. "And Megan and Artemis are in that same band, remember? You don't have a problem with them."

"They play classical music, dear," he points out, as if she didn't already know that for herself.

Again, she resists rolling her eyes.

It's not the first time she's heard this argument, which isn't really an argument at all, because they all can play classical music. He likes to believe (or maybe just pretends to believe, just so he has something to argue with her about) that because Megan and Artemis play the piano and saxophone, respectively, that they probably have a more refined taste.

But Wally plays the trumpet and Kaldur plays the bass, and her father never seems to remember that those are considered to be equally important in symphonies and orchestras. And like, Dick plays guitar (both electric and acoustic, depending on the song) and Conner plays the drums, but that doesn't make them any less classically trained, either. Drums and guitars can be found in classical music all the time. Maybe not in the particular pieces her father has listened to, but it's not like that means there aren't any at all.

She says, "Sure, Dad," and then turns up the radio so he'll stop questioning her.

... ...

"What about this one?" Megan asks, holding up a black dress with a tulle skirt and a sparkly bodice. "I've always liked this one."

"It made me look like the girl from Black Swan, but blonde," Artemis laughs.

"I remember that." Zatanna gets off of the bed and stands beside Megan, taking the material of the skirt between her fingers. Then she takes the hanger and holds it up against Megan. "You should totally wear this, Meg."

"Definitely," Raquel agrees.

Artemis grins and says, "You should keep it. You know I'm never wearing it again."

"Not unless I want the guys to start cracking ballet jokes," Raquel adds, and they all laugh.

They're hanging out after school on a Thursday because they were all pretty much busy every other night. But they needed to figure out what they're wearing to graduation and to Clark and Dinah's wedding, because Gotham is like, the smallest world ever, so their families all know each other and are invited.

It was Megan's idea to swap dresses. It's not that they don't have the time to go shopping. They just don't want to. It's not like they need a new dress for graduation, anyway, because they'll be wearing the gown over it. And Megan figured that between the four of their wardrobes, they could each find a dress to wear to the wedding without having to buy a new one. So yeah, after school, they went home to grab their dresses and met up at Megan's, since she has the biggest closet and would've had to move the most clothes.

"Thank you, Artemis!" Megan squeals, crossing the room to hug Artemis.

"How come I've never seen this before?" Raquel asks, pulling a hanger from Megan's closet and holding it up so they can see the dress on it. It's strapless and red, with white polka dots, a white belt and white tulle underneath the skirt.

"Oh," Megan says with a laugh, "that's because I've never worn it before. This bride we were supposed to play for wanted us to match the theme of her wedding, but then she scrapped the idea at the last second. I was kind of relieved, too, because the red just didn't look good with my hair."

"It doesn't with mine, either," Artemis adds. "Too much red with my hair just reminds me of ketchup and mustard or like, McDonalds."

"I wonder if…" Raquel walks over to Zatanna, holds the dress up against her. Megan squeals a little and Artemis says, "Perfect," as Raquel smiles. "Okay, you definitely have to wear this dress. And to the wedding, so we can see how hot you look in it."

Zatanna laughs.

... ...

She hears someone shout her name while she's on her way to the auditorium, because she has Drama next, and looks over her shoulder to see Dick's younger brother, Tim (who is also adopted) exiting the science building. She waves and stops to wait for him to catch up.

"Ms. Lance wants me to talk to Mr. Batson about subbing for her seventh period," Tim explains once they're walking in step. "She has a final dress fitting and could only get it scheduled for today. Mr. Batson won't mind, right?"

She shakes her head, and Tim looks relieved. Honestly, he's such a sweetheart.

"Are you coming to dinner tonight?" he asks.

"Yeah," she answers. "Ms. Lance and Clark will be there, right? Dick told me about it last week."

"Is your dad coming?"

She laughs a little, shaking her head. "He already had plans. Lucky for me, too, because the last thing I need right now is for my dad to figure out that Dick and I are going off to college together. Well," she reconsiders, "he probably already thinks that's what we'll do, but he'll probably lose it if Bruce actually brings it up."

"He's still got a thing against my brother, right?" he asks with a frown. She nods. "Hasn't it been almost four years now?" She nods again. "And he still won't budge?"

"No such luck. And we've tried practically everything."

"Why doesn't he like my brother?"

She turns to look at Tim and feels like putting a hand over her heart, because Tim just looks so sad at the idea that anyone could have something against Dick. She totally knows the feeling, but not quite the same way Tim probably does because he idolizes Dick so much. Conflict in general makes Tim sort of bummed, but when it comes to his family…

Well, he looks like a kicked puppy right now. You do the math.

So she pushes her fingers through his hair, because it always makes him smile and she just hates seeing him down, and says, "Who knows?"

... ...

She gets home from dinner at 11:00, which she already knows isn't going to sit well with her dad. She's on time for curfew, but that never stops him from being annoyed when he knows she's been out with Dick, which is almost all the time. He was already reluctant to let her go to dinner in the first place, but Bruce actually called him to invite the both of them. As much as he may be against Dick dating his daughter, her dad won't openly say or imply it to Bruce or anyone else, really. And yes, she realizes how that sounds.

It doesn't matter. Everyone still knows.

When she walks in, her dad's sitting at the dining room table with the chandelier on and the rest of the house completely dark.

He doesn't even acknowledge that she walked in, even though she knows he heard her. She could probably just go straight up to bed and he still wouldn't say anything, wouldn't go into her room to talk to her. But then he'd just be angrier in the morning.

"Hi," she says.

"Home at eleven exactly," he points out. "Is he trying to make a statement or something?"

"Alfred drove me. And since when was being on time for curfew a bad thing?"

He shakes his head, mutters something under his breath that she doesn't catch. She's too tired to deal with this, but when she starts up the staircase, he calls out her name and makes her stop a few steps up from the bottom. "No more staying out late," he tells her. She blinks. "You need to focus on school, and study."

"My grades are perfectly fine," she sort of whispers, because she'll start shouting if she lets her voice get any louder and that wouldn't help her cause. "And AP testing is over."

"You still have your finals."

"Dad, AP testing was our finals," she argues. "My teachers have all said that. All I have left are graduation practices and senior stuff."

"School isn't over yet, Zatanna. You're about to go to college and you can't start ignoring your responsibilities."

She sort of just stares at her father, who isn't looking at her and hasn't once, actually, since she walked in. She's not by any means slacking off or abandoning anything. Sure, her schedule isn't as strict as it was when the year started, but that's because school's ending in a week and like, of course things are going to be winding down and there's not going to be as much to do. It's always like this, and it's not fair for him to try to take away her newfound free time just because he knows she uses it to see Dick.

And she's like, two seconds away from saying exactly that when her father adds, "Curfew is ten from now on."

She blinks. "Excuse me?"

"Curfew is at ten," he repeats, enunciating every word. He still isn't looking at her. She shakes her head, even though she knows he can't see it.

And then she walks out the front door.

... ...

The first thing she sees when she wakes up is Artemis walking out of her bathroom in nothing but her bra and panties, hair twisted into a towel atop her head. Before either of them can say anything, though, Mrs. Crock wheels herself into the room with a bright smile on her face, greeting them, "Good morning, girls."

"'Morning, Mom," Artemis says back, crossing the room to her closet.

"Good morning," Zatanna tells her. "Thanks for letting me stay the night, Paula. I'm sorry for dropping by so suddenly."

"You're always welcome here," Paula says, waving her hand dismissively. "I've got breakfast plans with some friends, but I left some money on the table so the two of you can buy yourselves food. Oh, and Artemis, make sure you let her borrow a change of clothes and get her some fresh towels. And open one of the extra toothbrushes for her."

"You act like this is the first time she's slept over," Artemis teases, laughing when Paula swats at her side. Then she says, "Bye, Mom," and kisses Paula's cheek.

"See you later, Paula," Zatanna adds.

Paula waves at her and tells them to have fun today, then wheels herself away.

"Sorry I showed up so late," Zatanna tells Artemis, who waves the apology away just like her mother did as she walks into the hallway. She reappears after a few seconds with two towels and an unopened toothbrush. "I would've gone to Dick's but—"

"You didn't want to ruin their family reunion with your problems because Jason just got home after you left," Artemis finishes. "You told me last night."

"I did?" Artemis nods. "I don't even remember that. To be honest, I don't remember getting here, either."

"You were upset. I totally understand," Artemis says, draping a bra and a pair of underwear over Zatanna's shoulder. "You shower, and I'll call everyone and see if they can meet up with us for brunch. Take your time, and help yourself to my closet." Artemis kisses her cheek, adding, "And if you try apologizing again, I will kick your ass."

Then she disappears down the hallway. Zatanna shakes her head, amused.

And after she's finished her shower and brushed her teeth and braided her wet hair out of her face, she slips into a yellow sundress she knows Artemis hasn't worn since a baby shower they'd played for their sophomore year, grabs her phone and a pair of sandals and walks outside. Wally and Dick are sitting on barstools at the kitchen island when she walks in, and Artemis is sitting on the counter, phone pressed to her ear. Dick smiles, swivels his chair so he's facing her, and she stands between his knees and kisses him.

"Good morning," she says against his lips, and then pulls back a little and grins. "So, what's happening today?"

"Well, Artemis is still working out the details with Megan," Wally explains, "but it sounds like it's just going to be the four of us for brunch, and then we're meeting up with the others around noon. I think Raquel wants to drive around and go shopping."

"Fine by me," Zatanna says, "As long as I'm nowhere near my dad for the whole day."

Dick sets his hands at her waist. "Want to talk about it?"

"Right now, all I want is food."

"I second that," Wally chimes in, holding his hand up for a high-five. "And we can go to that giant mall that has like, seven different wings and over a hundred stores and that huge food court!" Dick arches an eyebrow. "What? It takes like, two and a half hours to get there, and she wants to be away from Gotham for the day, so…"

"That sounds perfect," Zatanna says.

"Hah!" Wally exclaims. Dick shoves him off of the barstool.

... ...

Her phone rings while they're standing in line for Cold Stone's, and for a few seconds, she just ignores it.

Her dad's called her about six times today and she really doesn't want to talk to him right now. Maybe she's being a brat, but she doesn't care. She left him a text after breakfast when she knew he'd be in the middle of a meeting and too busy to check it right away, telling him that she slept at Artemis's last night and that she's hanging out with everyone today and that yes, she's alive. He probably doesn't even deserve the notice, but whatever. She doesn't want him calling the police or something to like, hunt her down.

But she answers it at the last second, because she glanced at her screen and saw that it was actually Bruce calling. Dick knows what she likes, anyway, so he tells her to take the call and she steps out of line to answer it.

"I heard you ran away."

She has no idea why that seems funny to her right now, but she laughs, anyway. "Is that what my dad told you?" she asks.

"More or less," Bruce replies. "He's worried about you."

"Worried about my well-being, or worried that I'm turning into a rebellious teenager?" Bruce chuckles deeply. "I sent him a text earlier, anyway, just to let him know that I wasn't abducted or anything. Did he tell you why I left the house in the first place?"

"He said you were being unreasonable because of a curfew," Bruce tells her, but she knows from his tone that he understands it's a lot more than that.

"To him, that's all it is."

"I know," Bruce says, and she smiles. Bruce has always, always understood her, almost as well as Dick always has. "I didn't call you to try and convince you to listen to your father. I'm overstepping my boundaries for even offering this, but I you can always stay with us." She doesn't even get a chance to really react, either, because he goes on to add, "You and Dick leave for the early admissions program in two weeks, anyway, so it's not a bother. And don't worry. I can talk to your father about getting your things from the house."

"Bruce…"

"You're eighteen and allowed to move out. But just know that I'm not doing this to try and drive a wedge between you and your father. I want you to be taken care of, and at the very least, your father will be relieved knowing you're safe."

"He'd probably freak out at the idea of Dick and me living under the same roof."

"He'll come around once he realizes that you'll be leaving for college after the wedding. But can you do me a favor?"

There's a pause.

"Bruce?"

"Before you move out, give your father one last chance."

And in retrospect, when she promises that she will give her father a final chance, she should've known that the fact she only did it because Bruce asked her to – and not because she felt compelled to make up with her own father – meant something.

... ...

She knows she must look awful when she shows up at Dick's house at around midnight that night, but Dick doesn't say anything about it. He just pulls her into his arms as soon as he's got the door opened enough, hugs her close to him and kisses the top of her head. He's changed into pajamas and she's still wearing the same outfit he saw her in earlier, which feels like it was a lot longer ago than it actually was. She's exhausted and sort of has a headache right now, which always happens when she's been crying really, really hard.

He walks her upstairs, into his room and then into the adjoining bathroom. There're towels folded on the corner of the counter with a change of underwear and pajamas. Dick must've asked his stepmom, Selina, to prepare something for her, knowing that Zatanna likes to take a long, warm shower when she's overwhelmed.

"Take your time," he tells her, kissing her temple again. When he turns to leave, she grasps his shirt and pulls him back, presses her lips to his. He kisses her back, then slides his lips over the apple of her cheek and whispers into her ear, "Okay, maybe rush a little?"

She chuckles, faintly, and he smiles at her.

... ...

Her favorite guitar of Dick's is this acoustic one that can also be plugged into an amp and has all of these tabs on the side to adjust it like an electric. He only uses his favorite for special performances, which are usually parties for people he knows personally or playing for friends and family inside someone's home. It's sleeker and lighter than the all-black electric one he typically uses outside, and he takes super good care of it because it's the very first gift Bruce and Selina gave him after they were married and means a lot to Dick.

He's also never taken it to school, once, before today, which she's pretty sure has to do with her. She's told him several times that he always sounds his best when he plays with this particular guitar, and he's been playing for her with it every day since she "moved in".

So they're sitting on one of the older wooden benches underneath this large weeping willow in the middle of the courtyard, Dick's guitar in his lap as he's strumming chords and humming softly. Her eyes are closed, her legs crossed at her ankles, and they're sort of in their own little world right now.

When the song comes to an end, she says, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"You didn't deserve to be treated the way my dad's treated you the last four years." She opens her eyes, turns to look at him. "I know you said I don't have to apologize for him, but I'm apologizing for me. I shouldn't have let him get away with it for so long."

"You don't have to apologize for that, either." He grins a little, strumming a random chord. "But, apology accepted."

She sets a hand on his knee, leans forward and kisses his cheek. "I love you," she tells him.

He smiles, puts his pick between her fingers and guides her hand to strum another chord. Maybe it's just her, but it's the prettiest one she's ever heard. And she knows that's him saying he loves her, too, but he still tips her head back a little, kisses her and says the words against her lips.

... ...

The morning of the wedding, she puts on her polka dot dress, curls her hair a little and slips into a pair of black heels. She's surprisingly awake right now considering graduation was last night and they all hung out at Dick's house and were up until like, 2:00 in the morning.

She can hear everyone else sort of running around and getting ready (they all spent the night), and it's the most chaotic she's ever heard their friends be.

She's going to miss this so much.

And she hasn't heard from her father, either. Apparently he was at graduation, because Bruce had two bouquets of flowers for her and one had an envelope with her father's handwriting on it. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but as soon as she recognized the handwriting on the aged papers tucked inside, her eyes instantly watered.

It was her mom's handwriting.

It was an entire entry that was dated the exact day and month of graduation, but sixteen years ago. It wasn't addressed to Zatanna, specifically, but her mother had written about how her father was so worried that he was going to have trouble with Zatanna when she started growing up, because he knew she was going to be just like her mother and that boys wouldn't help but fall for her. Her mother sounded amused, and then went out to write all of the reasons she knew that their daughter would be fine.

They were the exact same things she's heard her father tell her all the time.

She feels something small and cold being slipped into her and she smiles, threads her fingers with Dick's so that the penny is pressed between their palms.

(When Bruce collected her stuff from her house, they pooled together all of the pennies and other coins they'd given each other over the years and came up to about two hundred dollars. They exchanged it at the city bank for cash and saved it in an envelope that's sitting in her duffel, labeled 'savings for college date nights'.)

"I'm thinking," she says, turning a little so that she's facing him, "that we may have to get a job or two so that we'll always have enough money to visit everyone, because I'm going to miss them way too much."

"We'll work hard, save up to see them at least once or twice a month."

"I'm thinking that I'm going to feel really, really bad for our roommates, and everyone on our floors."

He chuckles. "We'll buy them earplugs."

"And I'm thinking that," she adds, "even though I feel betrayed by my dad right now, I'm going to be upset to leave on such bad terms. And eventually I'll start to miss him."

He grins a little, reaches for her phone on the nightstand and has her father's number open in her contacts within seconds. "We can work things out," he tells her, setting the phone in her hand, and she glances at him uncertainly. He nods, and her finger barely touches the screen when she hits 'dial'.

He picks up on the second ring. "Zatanna?" her father asks, and she hadn't even realized she'd started to cry until Dick's wiping the tears away with his thumb.

"Hi, Daddy."