**The Half Moon Diner, Gotham City**

She let her eyes drift over the hunched figure across the booth's table, the nibbled fingernails, those wide eyes and that awful, red-cheeked scowl that could only be described as scurrilous.

Selina shrugged inwardly and took several deep breaths, hell, if someone didn't do it, it would not get done...well, then again, that depended upon what one meant by it. It was the subject of their entire conversation. And despite her general misgivings and the fact that there was pretty much no way either of them wasn't going to walk away completely humiliated, they had to have the talk.

She let her mind teeter, however briefly, to the events surrounding her own coming of age. Lots of jagged edges centered on a monotonous whole, a brief milestone spent dodging the vice squad, snatch and grabs and greasy johns all against the backdrop of the mid-seventies to the early eighties. Glam was running full steam then and she'd spent more than one night squeezing her tiny frame into halter tops and strapping on spiked and platform heels. She was scared but sensible too and she'd never picked up any interest in drugs. Too, by the Grace of God, she had managed to never contract anything more serious than lice on more than one occasion...head and otherwise.

She grimaced despite herself, that was all a lifetime ago. More importantly, that description did not even remotely fit the image of this young girl. Selina wasn't even really sure how old the kid was. The Roman had been dead all of twenty years, but that subject rarely came up between them.

She had never felt comfortable venturing too far into the girl's-it was still hard to think of her as a sister, even now-background. What little Selina could glean regarding her tastes involved lots of animal print accessories and a tried and true penchant for responding with acid sarcasm to even the most banal question. A young adult, and faithful to its tenets, the girl slept for marathon hours. And despite an appetite that could rival a swarm of locusts, hardly any fat seemed to stick to that too skinny frame. Kitrina otherwise worked out and matched Selina's younger self in one particular aspect to a T. She skipped school, constantly. This couldn't have been a surprise given her past isolation spent with Mario, but her instructors at Gotham City Community College seldom saw her before exams.

She frowned, realizing the uncomfortable silence between them had stretched beyond several minutes. Their mugs of hot chocolate arrived and Selina decided to simply plunge in headfirst, "I've noticed a certain...habit lately. You've, hm, been lingering a bit wherever a certain young man comes into view."

The girl's eyes widened and she slouched deeply, arms folded behind her mug, "You must be mistaken."

Selina nodded wisely, "This morning's Sunday Times happened to turn itself to that two-page spread on Damian Wayne's first year at Columbia all by itself?"

Kitrina's cheeks turned scarlet and Selina decided to switch tactics, stepping back from the accusatory edge, "I can't even browse the damned newspaper? There's a showing of M this week at the Bryantown eight. I thought I might check it out."

Selina nodded, "That's fair. I didn't know you were a fan. I prefer Max Ophuls personally but Fritz Lang is very good too. I haven't yet learned to appreciate the silent pictures yet..."

Kitrina seemed satisfied with that retreat and picked up her spoon, always preferring to eat the whipped cream first, "Words are overrated."

Selina gave a smirk, message received loud and clear, and she waited a beat, "It's okay you know, you can admit to liking the kid."

Kitrina growled under her breath, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"If you don't mind, I'm sure I can ask Bruce when he'll be in town next, perhaps around Spring Break. Maybe you two can hang out at the manor."

"A playdate? Goody."

"Look, do you want me to ask or not...?"

Kitrina grit her teeth and held the spoon tightly, looking quite determinedly at a nick in the rim of the mug. She mumbled.

"What was that?"

Kitrina's face began to resemble a strawberry and she shut her eyes, "I've...I haven't..."

Selina set her spoon down and made a face, "It's alright kiddo, just say it."

"I'veneverbeenwithaguy...before...around...or, um, with."

Selina's eyebrows shot up and she had to quickly recover, making an attempt to smooth over her surprise, she hadn't expected Kitrina to be a virgin. She smiled, "That's so..." she stopped herself before she blurted out something asinine like cute. "That's okay too."

Kitrina looked...vulnerable, something that didn't often describe her countenance. Throughout their eight year relationship, they'd lived quite independently of one another. With Bruce's connections, they'd easily contracted a tutor and for wide swaths of time they'd traveled, trained and lived for the most part separately. Not that she hadn't kept tabs on the girl; she had, at least weekly. But that wasn't the same as raising someone. And frankly, Selina had always felt a triffle unequipped for the job. Aside from Holly and Bruce, there were scarcely any people she'd managed to hang onto and keep within a reasonable periphery. That included her sister Magdalene and for a long, unfortunate time, her brother Mario too.

Letting Mario and Maggie slip into madness had been defining failures for her and somewhat like her daughter Helena, she'd felt it would be more...beneficial, safety and otherwise, if Kitrina was in her life but also...elsewhere. The fact that she'd never known of the girl's existence until Mario brought her to Gotham and tried, pathetically, to rebuild the Roman's doomed empire didn't make it any less difficult. Their brother had abused the girl out of spite and disdain for her as an illegitimate child. A marked departure from his efforts to befriend and care for Selina in their youth. But, however abandoned, Selina was Louisa's child too. And Mario was remarkably sensitive to the distinction.

Her tutor had been with her until the older woman retired, acting pretty much as a surrogate parent in Selina's stead. And aside from holidays, this was one of their rare meetings that didn't involve the costumes. And it had never yet stopped feeling awkward.

Selina tried to soften her approach, suddenly aware of just how much she'd pigeon-holed the kid, "At your age it can be...overrated."

Kitrina's expression was unreadable and she couldn't quite seem to drag her eyes from the tabletop. Looking anywhere but at the older woman.

"I...I feel like an idiot."

"Why kiddo, you've got nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm not...ashamed. I'm just...I doubt Damian Wayne's going to want to have to sit there and hold my hand for God's sake."

Selina sat back and draped one arm along the back of the seat, thinking.

"And besides, I doubt he's lacking in drunken college girls...women, up at school. He's St. Anthony's Hall...I'm...not."

"May I ask, is it a religious conviction? A promise you made to yourself? I'm not saying that's a bad thing, but if you've got a good idea of why you haven't done it, I'm sure you'll be in a much better position to decide when you want to...do it." Selina knew the girl was half Russian, her name being quite a tip-off, but apart from vague asides and gestures, Kitrina'd never struck her as a devotee to the Orthodox faith. But how exactly would she know when they rarely spent time together?

Kitrina shook her head, shrugging, "I've...I've never assumed, um...that too many guys really liked me that way. I mean I work out and I smell and I'm too pooped to think about prancing around, begging for some guy's attention. I've never really...gone out of my way to meet any. It was usually just me and Madamé Francesca wherever. But...there was one guy, at Terre Blanche. But he was an ***h*le."

"How so?"

"He was smart and charming and he tried to tell me that if I..." Kitrina looked around embarrassedly and tried to mouth the words and pointing at her rear end, "If I let him...it wouldn't really be sex; that I could remain a virgin."

Selina sat up straighter, "I haven't heard that one before, I've heard my share of lines but...you didn't ever mention..." she caught herself, "And I never thought to ask."

Kitrina shook her head, not too perturbed, "I was embarrassed for him."

Selina finally stirred what whipped cream that remained visible into the hot liquid and sipped her beverage, "You've got quite a good head. A lot of girls might've let him get away with that."

"I'm sure it's worked a few times."

Selina made a face, "Listen, I do want to state for the record, that whatever you choose to do when you go to bed with a young man, whenever that may be, is fine. So long as you're safe and you aren't letting yourself feel...pressured or worrying about whether he'll like you anymore."

Kitrina's face became somewhat blank, "I won't...I mean, that's not even on the forecast right now. I mean, I know I could go down to any scummy bar on a Friday night and let a guy pick me up—"

"And you shouldn't," Selina interjected.

"—and I won't. It's just I don't even know what I want yet."

Selina nodded, "That's understandable...you'll stumble across the right guy sometime...or girl?"

Kitrina shook her head, "No. No girls. Nothing against them, just, I'm not into them. I mean Holly and Karon are cool and all but I've never felt...that way."

Selina nodded again and finished her mug, "I did mean it, about Damian. Just say the word."

Kitrina made another face she didn't recognize, "That's so...didn't you date his dad? That'd make me, like, my own future step-aunt or something."

Selina sat back more fully into the seat and let herself think, just for a moment, of Bruce in that old romantic sense. They'd had a very involved, tumultuous relationship. One that eventually stretched the spectrum from playboy and escort to...partners. Emotionally, mentally and physically. Not in the sense of a costumed partner like Robin, though that aspect inevitably influenced their mutual understanding. Their bond extended to ordinary life as well. But it had also made things much more complicated than they would have liked. And she hadn't been seriously interested in any other man for a long time. Though they had cooled on one another, particularly after his "death" and reappearance, they had remained in touch regularly. It wasn't enough, but it was what they had to settle for...for now.

That wasn't something she was going to be able to put words to and didn't try now, "Yes. We more or less have a certain feeling for one another. But that has nothing to do with you. And I wouldn't want you dismiss your feelings just because of an incidental factor like that."

Kitrina didn't say anything for a long time, "I...just think he's...attractive. I don't know why."

Selina gave a small smile, knowing that Damian was Robin and was also quite likely to succeed his father and take on the cowl himself someday. She knew she oughtn't to encourage the kid, knowing that she was merely setting her up for a very long wait indeed.

But she also knew that the level of mutual consideration she and Bruce shared due to their occupations, even now, wasn't something she was willing to trade. They'd each had to sacrifice almost every personal relationship for the right to live their lives doing as they saw fit. She didn't even know whether the kid planned on sticking with the nightlife. But Damian had been practically cast and bronzed in his father's image. Superficially speaking though, they seemed to be a decent match.

But the kid was two years younger than Kitrina, and just beginning manhood. He was arrogant, self-important and unfortunately all too aware of his talents and abilities, sometimes to the point of impetuousness.

Kitrina, alternately, was a master escape artist, able to unbind herself from ropes and ties that even Selina had taken years to overcome. Her size, of course, was an advantage. She was a very quick learner, cautious and measured, and her skills in the martial arts were generally seamless, preferring efficiency over flair. And unlike her male counterpart, she knew when to taunt her enemy and when to shut up and fight.

While Selina had consciously steered her away from outright thievery, she knew neither of them felt terribly comfortably accepting the title of "hero." Since Kitrina had returned from Europe, Selina had been slowly reintegrating her into the fabric of the East End. And while the place had hardly welcomed her constant intrusions since those wretched early days, her efforts had begun to bear fruition over time.

"Well, I'll at least warn you, I've known that boy since he was ten years old. He has quite a nasty streak, but that's mellowed over the years somewhat. He...I'll admit he doesn't have the best reputation."

"Neither does his father," Kitrina answered matter-of-factly, staring at Selina head on.

Selina was actually referring to Damian's reputation amongst the wider world of the costumed set. His father's name was his saving grace more often than not. But, even now, he was unpopular and seemed to cultivate it. Even though Bruce was quick to show his displeasure at what he deemed as "outside" interference, he was savvy enough to keep the channels of communication open. She knew Damian was a stone wall in that respect.

By way of replying, however, she merely nodded, "I know. But that would be a small thing if you really liked one another and if you were...given a reason to stay. And what they print in the gossip sheets..."

"I know, I know..."

"Just reacquaint yourself with him…or don't. It's your choice kiddo. I'll respect whatever decision you make."

The girl hunched her shoulders and leaned back into the seat, "Hmph."