-l- A Matter of Identity –l-

| Disclaimer: Don't own, never did, never will. Mistakes and typos on the other hand are mine. I take full credit for those. |

| Spoilers: none |

| Rating: K |

| A/N: First of all I'd like to thank my awesome beta defineserenity! You rock, hun. |

| Okay, here it is, my short "sequel" to my previous fic 'Under the Moon'. Well, it's not really a sequel, it's more like a scene in the future, but with the same daughter. Hope that makes sense. Enjoy. Let me know what you think. Reviews are food, as always.

Oh and I'm blaming Dee (defineserenity) because I can. |

!! Also, please help save the show. I saw useful info for that on the forum (Numb3rs talk). Sorry, but can't stress this enough. I'm on a mission here. !!

Okay, on to the story now. :)

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Maggy Eppes runs to the door of the Craftsman when she hears her daddy's car arrive. Her dark curls bounce on her shoulders when she reaches for the doorknob and opens the door.

Don flashes her a smile before picking her up. "Hey, Mags."

She doesn't reply, but instead she gives her daddy a kiss on the cheek.

According to Alan she's fast and responsible like dad, good with words and beautiful like mom. She's smart and a little clumsy like her uncle, but Don never said anything like that to his dad, not in front of Charlie anyway. He doesn't remember using the word clumsy, it could've been a more subtle word.

"What did you teach grandpa today?" he asks her, making sure his father hears every word. He's not sure, but from the corner of his eye he believes he sees a smile on his father's face.

The older Eppes tries his best to stay focused on the newspaper, but the harder he tries, the faster his eyes move to the interaction between his oldest son and granddaughter.

"Fib'nacci sequence," she tells her dad, "1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21… 34. It's easy, each number is the sum of the previous two."

Don throws his dad a questioning look.

"Charlie's been teaching her math riddles," Alan informs his son.

"And I can hear you've been paying attention. You like math?" Don can't help smiling when she gives him a quick, enthusiastic nod.

"Is Charlie home?"

"Uncle Chuck," Maggy corrects her father with an innocent grin on her face.

She likes to tease, a trait she inherited from both her parents.

"Now that's something Charlie is going to blame you for I'm afraid."

Don has no trouble believing his dad's words, but as long as Charlie blames him in a brotherly way, there's no way he minds.

"Charlie's buying Amita dinner. Your brother asked me what to wear and when I gave him advice he decided to go for the other outfit."

"I wonder where we got that stubborn streak," Don muses.

Alan throws his hands up in defence at his son's words. "Your mother," he fills in with a straight face.

"Grandpa," Maggy deadpans at the same time.

Don laughs and playfully drops his daughter on the couch. The giggle he gets in return warms his heart.

"I agree, Mags."

"Okay, two against one isn't fair. I'm going to make us some food."

With Robin out of town for a couple of days and Charlie taking Amita out to dinner, it's just the three of them.

"Need any help?" Don asks.

"No, Donnie. I like my food edible."

"Hey, I can cook. It's Charlie who lacks cooking skills."

"Sure, son."

Dumbfounded, Don watches his father leave the room. He decides to sit down next to his daughter on the couch.

"I know now daddy."

Don eyes her suspiciously. "What is it that you know?"

"I know why you leave for work at night."

"You do?"

"It explains everything. Grandpa told me you help people."

Don doesn't have a clue where his little girl is going with all of this, but he definitely wants to find out.

"Explains what?"

"You're Batman."

Don's eyes widen at his daughter's statement. For a moment he wonders who he's going to have to talk to about this. Did Charlie or dad put her up to this?

"But TV's wrong too."

"How's that?" he humors his daughter for a moment.

"Mommy's not a boy," she points out.

"Mom's not a…" Don realizes what his daughter is telling him. Robin, of course.

"No, darling. Mommy's not a boy," he explains, "and daddy's not Batman. I told you that I work for the FBI, right?" He also remembers explaining what 'FBI' means.

She nods and before he can continue she says, "Don't worry, daddy. I know you can't tell anyone. I'll keep your secret."

The end

A/N: Okay, I admit it. This fic was shameless self-indulgence, but I hope you liked it anyway. Tell me. ;)