52

THE UNSOLVED RIDDLE

PART III

By Janna Kalderash

Author's Note: There's going to be a bit of a time jump in the beginning of the chapter; please just bear with me, I promise that it'll be good.

Edward Nashton stood in front of the Plexiglas window of the maternity ward, grinning like an idiot. He was currently looking at his newborn daughter who was currently screaming her little head off for whatever reason.

"Ed, she's beautiful," a voice purred next to him and he turned to his right to see Selina Kyle, aka Catwoman standing beside him in very fashionable street clothing.

"Isn't she though? She looks like my Nanna did when she was young. I've heard of dominant genes, but this is a bit much." He responded, not at all fazed by the tiny baby's resemblance to his long deceased grandmother.

He turned his attention once again to the yowling mite, who was now being seen to by the nurse in charge. Judging by the woman's quick recoil, he figured it had to be his daughter's diaper that set her off.

Once the baby was placed on the changing table, his suspicions were confirmed. Huh…he hadn't thought there was that much poop in her system to make such a mess, but he was no real judge of babies, so he had no comparison.

"What's her name going to be, Ed?" she asked, leaning against the glass partition.

"Rosemary Selina Nashton." He declared firmly, and she turned to look at him in surprise.

True, they had once upon a time, had a very intense fling, in the long ago days of their early twenties, but it had died out after they had found they simply couldn't live together. He with his obsessive compulsive tendencies, and she with her cats; it was a fling doomed to failure from the beginning.

Still, they were good friends, even after she had fixated on Batman for whatever reason, moved on from him and married Wildcat, a now retired hero, turned boxing coach. Their own son, Jeff, was six months older than his Rosemary, and was a very laid back individual.

"Thank you, Ed. That's very sweet of you."

"Actually, Maggie suggested it; she's always liked you. And the fact that you were the one that threw the baby shower helped a great deal."

"What did you two get from the Joker? He's never said what the gift was."

Ed's face darkened a little, "That crazy clown sent a zombielike Raggedy Ann doll with no eyes. Maggie was so pissed at him; she wanted to cut his balls off. If she hadn't been eight months pregnant at the time, I might have let her."

"What did you do to him?" Selina asked. She'd never gotten a straight answer from the Joker; all he did was get a twitch in his left eyebrow when asked, and then he'd rapidly change the subject.

"I didn't do anything to him. I simply told my godmother about what he did, and she said she would take care of it. Evidently, she did. And she won't tell me what, because she wants me to maintain 'plausible deniability', in this particular case. However, knowing Ma, she or her sons did something truly nasty."

Selina decided to drop the subject, for the nurse was beckoning Ed into the nursery so he could hold his daughter in person. She patted him on the shoulder, wished him luck and left the maternity ward.

As she turned to walk to the elevator, she saw him, now with a hospital gown on over his suit, with the baby in his arms. Although she couldn't hear him through the glass, she imagined that he was cooing to her.

Once she got on the elevator, she collapsed into giggles at the thought of the former criminal, known as The Riddler, turned into a mound of gelatinous goo by a newborn baby.

As for Ed, he wasn't minding a bit. The moment that Maggie had announced her pregnancy, not four months after their honeymoon in Mexico, he had known that his life was going to change irrevocably.

He smiled down at his precious little girl, his grey eyes misting over with happy tears. Never in all his life had he thought he would one day be in this position; happily married, with a baby girl.

Someone knocked on the window of the nursery to get his attention and Ed looked up into the face of his son, Michael O'Brien, who was grinning like a fool, and clutching a huge teddy bear in his arms.

"Hey Da!" the young man said, slightly muffled through the glass. "I brought something for the rugrat!"

"Don't call your sister a rugrat, snotwad." Ed replied evenly, not really angry at his son. "Remember that once upon a time you were also this little."

Michael scowled at his father a bit, but his frown faded when Ed held up little Rosemary for him to get a good look. Then, the slightly goofy smile returned.

"She's beautiful, Da. She looks just like that picture of your Nanna Rosemary that you showed me, right down to the nose."

"She is a beauty at that, Michael my boy. She is at that." Ed kissed his daughter on the forehead, and handed her back to the nurse for a bottle.

Right now, Maggie was conked out in the Recovery Room, and wouldn't be able to nurse until she woke up.

Ed got rid of the hospital gown, and joined his firstborn outside the nursery. He looked over the bear, and saw that it was wearing a miniature green suit with a question mark motif and a green bowler hat with a question mark on it.

"Smartass," was all he had to say to Michael, who snickered at his father's expression.

Together the two of them left the hospital. Visiting hours were over, and Ed was about ready to drop from exhaustion. He had been in the delivery room with Maggie for a good two hours, gently encouraging her throughout the labor. She had been cussing up a storm, practically turning the air blue with her foul language.

The doctor on call, Dr. Leslie Thompkins had simply smiled behind her mask, and ignored the cursing. She had heard far worst in her career as a doctor; mostly from a private patient who was also a millionaire with a tragic past.

Michael drove his father back to the large condo that Ed had bought Maggie as a wedding present. Throughout his long criminal career, Ed had squirreled away a good amount of money; enough to buy a four bedroom, three bathroom condo.

It was tastefully furnished in a somewhat eclectic style; most of the living room furniture was leftover from his days as the Riddler, but with new slipcovers and cushions. There was a huge green afghan covering the back of it, patiently crocheted by Maggie.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around that much Da, but since I finished my finals, I can be around more for you and Ma."

"Don't worry about us, Mikey. Your mother and I can take care of things. I might not have much experience in taking care of newborns, but it can't be that hard."

Michael stopped and looked over at his father in surprise.

"You do know that you just jinxed yourself, don't you?"

Ed thought for a minute, and then said "CRAP!" in an exasperated tone. "I can't believe I tempted Fate like that. I'm usually more careful."

"You're also pooped out from helping Ma with the delivery. It's understandable and forgivable. Why don't you go to bed, while I get myself something to eat?"

Now feeling very sleepy, Ed shuffled off to the bedroom, where he stripped out of his clothes, managed to get into his pajamas without too much fuss, and went straight to sleep.

The next morning, Ed woke up to find Michael already at the breakfast table, reading the newspaper, looking disgustingly chipper.

Ed, who as a rule, was never alive until he'd had at least two cups of coffee in his system, simply poured himself a cup of black coffee, adding a generous amount of sugar and milk before slumping at the table and slowly drinking it.

"There's toast, butter and jam in front of you, Da." Michael said, smiling at his usually dapper parent, who was now a rumpled mess with a bad case of bedhead.

The only he answer he got was a semi-sleepy grunt, after which he passed over the toast, butter and jam to Ed. Still half asleep, Ed managed to slather butter and jam on the toast, and get it into his system, without getting any of it on his pajamas or robe.

Michael continued to eat his cold cereal, and read the funnies. He had never been much for sports, much like his father, and the regular news bored him.

Tax hikes by the mayor; the Joker had been caught by Batman, again! Selina Kyle was hawking a new perfume that she had cooked up; the usual stuff.

"The Joker really must be getting old if he's still pulling the same old schtick." Michael said conversationally.

"The Joker was born old," Ed managed to get out, filling his cup for a second time, now looking more aware of his surroundings. "He was an old man when I was a kid; he's at least twenty years older than I am. It's just the whiteface makeup and green wig that hide his age. His hair went white before he was fifty."

Michael snorted in laughter; there were times when he thought that Ed had missed his calling in life. He was ten times funnier than the Joker even on an off day.

"What do you hear from your Uncle Thomas?" Ed asked.

"The Holy See's giving him fits as usual. He's a very proactive sort of person, and wants to correct all of the wrongs that have been done by the Church in the last few decades."

"Hopefully they won't kill him for it," Ed grumbled, "Your uncle is a good man, but he's in a crap position and he knows it. He only has as much power as the Cardinal College wants him to have."

Michael smirked, "That's what he's letting them think, Da. You forget that Uncle Thomas was a soldier before he became a priest; he's used to taking on battles against foes with superior odds. Besides, he's got friends in other places that will make sure he stays alive."

Ed grinned at that; Uncle Thomas or Pope Julius III certainly did have a lot of friends that were invested in keeping him alive while he did his housecleaning of the Church.

While Ed didn't still didn't have a great deal of respect for the Church itself, he did have a lot for Uncle Thomas. The man was as tough as an old Army boot, and didn't suffer fools at all, much less gladly.

Ed would be eternally grateful to him because he had been the one to raise Michael after the death of his adopted parents some years back.

As he drank his coffee, Ed's thoughts wandered back to the day that he had actually met Uncle Thomas. It had certainly been a Christmas to remember, that was for damned sure.

Flashback:

Maggie had recovered from her brain surgery, and was as beautiful as ever. She had managed to swing a job with the Gotham City Opera Company, working on the costumes, which required a great deal of maintenance due to all of the manhandling they got from the dressers, the actors and stagehands.

One of the background singers had heard Maggie singing as she worked on one of the fantastically decorated ball gowns, and had sneakily informed the stage manager, who had himself snuck to the costume section to hear for himself.

The man had nearly fainted from shock when he heard that Maggie had never had a lick of formal schooling, but had been forced to sing in the choir at the school she had been sent to. The nuns there had been bitches of the first order, and had used the girl's singing to line their pockets by making them perform at concerts under threat of excommunication.

After swearing for a good twenty minutes in Italian, the stage manager had insisted that she audition. Maggie had flatly refused, due to massive stage fright, memories of being on stage with other frightened girls in her mind.

In the end, she had called Ed, and begged him to come down and talk to the stage manager.

Once Ed heard the whole story, he had told Maggie that the best way to get even with all of the bitches that had ruined her life was to make a success of it by doing the one thing they would never expect. Get on a stage and sing.

With fire in her eyes, Maggie had double dog dared him to get on stage with her and sing as well. She knew that he could sing, and sing well; he just didn't do it in public.

With practically the entire company watching the argument between the two lovers, and knowing that his reputation would take a hit from his refusal, Ed had agreed.

The two of them had sung in turn, glaring at each other, while the other members giggled at the display.

One rather robust woman had remarked to a friend of hers "If they aren't married yet, they're going to be. And oh what a marriage it will be! They will never be bored with each other," she had said in perfect Italian.

"Thank you for that signora," Ed had remarked in the same language, with no trace of an American accent, a slight smirk on his face appearing when she blushed at having been caught.

From then on, it was a done deal. Both Ed and Maggie were heard by the voice master who classified them as a light baritone and a light soprano; then both were shanghaied into getting voice training.

However, news of their employment by the GCOC wouldn't become public knowledge until the big Christmas concert that year.

The tattle on the grapevine was that the Pope was coming to town for it, by special invitation of the Governor of the State.

Ed had put the word out on the underground grapevine that going after the Pope for ransom or anything similarly stupid was a great big fat NO-NO! And reminded those members of the criminal community who were Catholic that it would be a sure fire ticket to the lowest levels of Hell.

The Joker had protested, seeing the opportunity for a fantastic joke, but his older sister, Maria, a woman who didn't put up with any of his crap, had put her foot down, and smacked him upside the head for even thinking such a thing.

She had also told him that if he were to do it, she'd make sure that not one Latin soul food establishment in the entire city would let him through the door, and neither would the rest of their siblings, as well assorted nieces, nephews and cousins.

Since the Joker hated to cook for himself, and would only eat something that was cooked by his family, namely his sister, he was faced with either learning to cook for himself, or starvation.

He had capitulated to his sister's demands, and that had been the end of it.

The concert had sold out within minutes once the news of the Pope's attendance got out, and Maggie had been a nervous wreck for a couple of days until Ed had kissed her silly in the sewing room; that had put a stop to her nerves.

However, they had come back once she had determined that she had absolutely nothing to wear for the concert itself, and neither did Ed.

With the help of a few of the background singers who sewed their own clothes, Maggie was quickly fitted for a gorgeous gown that she refused to let Ed see before the performance.

Knowing that she was just going to be stubborn about it, Ed had gone to a tailor shop and gotten fitted for a black tuxedo. The only concession to his former career had been the bright green cummerbund that he'd found in the accessories bin, along with the matching clip on bow tie.

However, what none of them knew was of the very special connection that Ed and Maggie had with said Pope.

Many years before, when they were both in their early twenties, their son Michael O'Brien, had gone to Italy with is adopted parents, for a vacation. His adopted father's brother, Thomas O'Brien, had been an arch-bishop then, and although in very late middle age, had the vigor of a man half that.

Unfortunately, young Michael's parents had died in a car accident, leaving him a bereaved orphan in a foreign country where he didn't speak the language.

Since the government of Italy hadn't wanted to be bothered with repatriating him to America, and the American government was of the attitude that the child was now the problem of the Italian one, Thomas O'Brien had stepped up to the plate, and taken the boy into his household.

Of course, he had gone through his younger brother's papers, and discovered Michael's origins, as well as what had gone on at the School for Wayward Girls where he'd been born.

It hadn't been difficult for him to get a hold of the birth certificate which named the parents of his nephew, as well as their own birth certificates.

Further investigation had brought to light the horrendous practices at the School, and with a little nudge from a friend of his who was the Cardinal for Gotham City, things moved very quickly.

First, the school itself was the setting of a coup des' tat by the girls there. A couple of years before, someone had managed to smuggle in some cherry bombs, and flushed them down all the toilets at once, causing a massive flood.

While the nuns ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, the file room was rifled for information, and Maggie had taken several pertinent files, and run for her life.

She had mailed the whole kit and caboodle straight to the Gotham City Gazette, as well as mimeograph copies to the local District Attorney.

The scandal that had hit had brought to light just about every dirty deed that had been thought buried by Bishop O'Shaughnessy.

The girls had all been taken in by CPS, and put into intensive therapy, as well as trained for living outside of the school, along with the babies that they'd borne.

The Bishop's former paramours, most of whom had been killed on his orders, along with their children, where exhumed from the pauper's graves they'd been buried in, and given proper funerals.

Unfortunately, due to certain practices by the Church at the time, the Bishop and those nuns who were caught managed to claim sanctuary with Mother Church, and avoided arrest.

However, that hadn't been the end of it. Not by a long shot.

Those nuns that had taken part in the systematic abuse had all been put into a very strict cloister that practiced mandatory silence, got up every day at 4:30 on the nose, no matter how late a person went to bed, and had a very simple vegetarian diet plan.

Unused to these kinds of conditions, some of the nuns had committed the ultimate sin of suicide and were cremated, their ashes scattered and their names used as a warning for those of the flock that thought it would be an easy thing to flout their vows to God and live an easy life.

The Bishop had been left alone for a couple of years, although he'd been sequestered at a monastery, also with a mandatory silence rule.

Some three years after that, Thomas became the first Irish-American to become Pope, and he had chosen the name Julius III, after the Pope that had been in a rather contentious relationship with Michelangelo Buonorotti centuries before.

Once he'd had the power of the Papal crown behind him, Thomas had REALLY gone to work.

First off, he had tendered a special invitation to Bishop O'Shaughnessy to come to Italy, to live out the rest of his years in the warmth of the Italian sun in a nice little cottage in the countryside.

The Bishop, having forgotten about the Papal Hit Squad that answered ONLY to the Pope, took the invitation and ran with it.

He'd been greeted once he got off the plane, driven to a special audience with Julius III, and was greeted by someone he'd thought never to see again.

A thirteen year old Michael O'Brien, his niece's only son, had greeted him with cold grey eyes, and said, "Welcome to Italy, uncle." After which he'd simply walked away from the wretched old man.

His audience with Julius hadn't gone any better; all of his crimes had been laid before him, in black and white, with no escape.

O'Shaughnessy had been summarily excommunicated, and stripped of all his rank. All of the considerable wealth he had amassed in his life had been seized by the Holy See, and he had been sent out of the room in disgrace.

Several days afterward, his body had been found in the surf, evidently drowned while swimming out too far into the Mediterranean Sea.

What no one knew was that he had been deathly afraid of water throughout his life, and had never learned to swim. But, since it was never brought up, no one thought anything different.

That had all taken place three years ago. Right now, Michael O'Brien was sixteen years of age, and a very handsome lad to look upon. With pale eyes, strong brows, curly dark brown hair, and a respectable height of 5'10", many a young girl of his acquaintance were all aflutter over him.

Not that this affected him in the least; for he had been raised to be a gentleman by his uncle, as well as his uncle's staff, and the first thing he'd been told during the onset of puberty was, "Be very careful who you make the mother of your child."

Thus, Michael was right now without a girlfriend, although he had many friends that were girls, which wasn't the same thing.

Pope Julius III had informed his nephew of their trip to Gotham City from the first, and to say that the boy was chomping at the bit to get there was like saying the Atlantic Ocean was a little bit wet.

He had been informed as to who his biological parents were, as well as the circumstances of his adoption by the time he was twelve years old. Being a very sensible boy, with good memories of the parents he had been blessed to have, Michael had not been all that shocked.

He'd seen the differences between himself and his adopted parents from a young age, but had kept his questions to himself, not wanting to cause any hurt feelings.

His adopted father, Joseph O'Brien had been 6'2" tall, with brown eyes and brown hair, and his wife, Elizabeth had been 5'11" with hazel eyes and auburn hair.

Since there was no possible way that the two of them could have produced a blue eyed, child with curly brown hair, Michael had known that something wasn't exactly kosher in the household, but had been too young to verbalize what he felt.

When he'd been informed as to the crimes of his great-uncle, Michael had asked if there was any ritual to renounce or denounce the man in the eyes of the Church, so that they wouldn't be related anymore.

Unfortunately, there hadn't been anything like that available, so Michael had simply settled for disowning the man legally.

All in all, it hadn't been too, too bad.

The trip to Gotham had been uneventful; the flight had gone smoothly; the food aboard was actually edible and the stewardesses had been friendly toward the somewhat shy young man, making him blush furiously.

They had landed, gone through customs, and been driven via police escorted limousine to the swankiest hotel the city had to offer; The Gotham Plaza Hotel, which was even bigger and grander than its sister hotel in New York City.

Once they had been safely ensconced in their adjoining suites, Julius had gotten Michael's attention.

"I know where your parents are. My agents have discovered that they are both working for the Gotham City Opera Company, and word is they are both going to be surprise vocalists on the program. My agent had a very devil of a time finding this out, so keep mum about it."

"What's the plan Uncle? I still think it's a bit unfair to just surprise them with me, even if it does take place backstage."

"Would you rather it be ON stage?" the pontiff asked, raising his eyebrows. "I didn't know you were that theatrical, Michael."

Michael had flushed and glared at his uncle, "I'm not! But wouldn't it be better for me to meet them here in the hotel room?"

"My boy, I understand your reluctance to put yourself forward, and normally I wouldn't ask you to. However, this city has been sinfully complacent toward the crimes of its former Bishop, and the victims he left behind.

As one of those victims, you and your parents will give faces to those who have gone home to God without anyone to speak for them. The people here MUST understand what they have permitted to happen, simply by ignoring what was in front of their faces. Think of it as another kick in the teeth toward the idiot if it helps."

Michael had given him a feral grin altogether too much like his father's. "Oh boy Uncle Thomas; that'd be the icing on the cake. You're on!"

At the exact same time, Maggie was undergoing the final fitting of her dress for the performance, making sure that no detail was overlooked. Everything about it had to be perfect; from the stitching right down to the underlining.

The dress was a simple sheath dress in design, but there was nothing simple about it; for one thing it was made of a gorgeous shade of cranberry silk, and the bodice was beaded to a fare thee well with tiny beads in the same color.

The cap sleeves were fitted, but not too tight, so as to permit freedom of movement for Maggie. The neckline was cut a bit lower than she would have liked, but her bosom had recovered from the deprivations of her former illness, and one of the sopranos had told her.

"Don't be afraid to show off what God and the Virgin have given you, Margareta. Your lover likes big bosoms, yes?"

Maggie had blushed and shyly admitted that yes, he DID like big bosoms, but only hers.

"Well then, as long as they are yours, what do you care if they are shown off? We are given bosoms for a reason, Margareta. To attract and KEEP men!"

Maggie had blushed again, giggled like a schoolgirl, and said no more about it.

Right now, the gown was being marked for hemming while Maggie stood on a stool, looking at herself in the mirror.

She could hardly recognize herself; the formerly gaunt, frail, dying woman had been replaced by a robust, curvy, very much alive woman who was now in control of her life after not being in control for so long.

"I'm scared Carla," she said to the girl who was marking the hem. "What if I wake up and this is all nothing but a dream? What if it's not real?"

In answer, Carla poked her gently in the ankle with a pin and Maggie squeaked in reaction.

"Does that feel like a dream to you?" the no nonsense young woman asked her.

"No."

"Okay then, stop worrying about it."

Maggie had decided to simply go with the flow and stop arguing.

The night of the concert had been a big hit with everyone.

The usual Christmas carols were sung, in languages ranging from Italian, to Irish Gaelic to American English, to Spanish and German, which had delighted many people in the audience who had flown in from other countries, simply so that they could attend.

When Ed had been introduced, the audience had become so quiet one could have heard a pin drop from fifty feet away.

Without even breaking a sweat, Ed had immediately started singing "My Lagan Love" completely a canella, much to everyone's shock.

Caught off-guard, the orchestra maintained silence until he hit the last note and finished his piece.

It was then that the audience burst into wild applause, making the former villain grin from ear to ear.

Maggie's performance however had really blown the roof off of the opera house.

She had performed "Draw Tua Bethlehem" in perfect Welsh; followed by "Non Ce Piu" in Italian; "Amazing Grace" in English; and finally, her favorite "O Holy Night".

Her favorite trick for that particular song was projecting to the rafters, even without the aid of a microphone. With one, everyone in the audience was stunned at the sheer power of her voice.

The audience at home, watching the whole thing on television simply sat and stared at their screens, completely in awe.

The big kicker had been the two of them doing a duet of "Elysium", which wasn't all hat well known of a piece outside of the UK, but from that day on would be to millions of people.

However, the most shocking thing had happened when Ed had gone down on one knee on stage, pulled a velvet box out of the pocket of his tux, and proposed to her right then and there.

For ten long, agonizing seconds, everyone waited with bated breath for Maggie's answer.

At Wayne Manor, Aunt Harriet had been screaming at the TV, "SAY YES! SAY YES! FOR GOD'S SAKE, NOT ONLY THAT BUT FUCK YES!" Much to the shock of Alfred, who actually dropped a tray with a cup of tea and biscuits on it.

"YES!" Maggie had all but screamed, and kissed him passionately after he placed the ring on her finger.

Up in his reserved balcony, Pope Julius III had laughed like a loon at the sight before him. Somehow, he had known that coming to Gotham would mean something huge, and by God he had been right!

Standing ovations had been given to all of the performers, but especially Ed and Maggie to many cries of "ENCORE!" ENCORE!"

The two of them had made the entire audience laugh with their rendition of "Dominic the Christmas Donkey", "Santa Claus is Comin' To Town", "Here Comes Santa Claus", "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer", and made everyone teary eyed with "The Little Drummer Boy", "Away in a Manger", and "Christmas Shoes".

When everyone in the cast had finally been allowed backstage for the after performance party, Ed and Maggie had snuck off to her dressing room for a bit of a breather.

"What a night," Maggie had said, sagging into his arms on the sofa, and dropping her head onto his shoulder.

"I agree; and to think it's not over yet. We have to go out to the reception hall where the others are, and put up with all sorts of well wishes, congratulations, and gratuitous advice from married people."

"Do you wanna?" she asked, peeking up at him.

"After I take a nap for about a half hour," he grumbled, "I'm pooped!"

They hadn't gotten that half hour, for not ten minutes later; a stagehand had come a-knocking on her dressing room door, telling them that a taxi was ready to take them to the reception hall at the Gotham City Plaza Hotel.

Ed had grumbled, groused and generally complained, but in the end had agreed to go.

Maggie had donned a long velvet cape with a very warm fake fur lining, and a huge hood, which she had drawn over her face. Ed put on a camel wool coat and his favorite fedora, then the two had managed to escape out the back door to the taxi, away from all of the autograph hounds.

Once at the reception hall, they had mingled amongst the elite of Gotham City, along with the other cast members, and the foreign dignitaries that had attended the performance.

Maggie's friends in the opera had 'oohed' and 'aahed' over the diamond ring that Ed had given to her, and made cheeky remarks as to the type of Christmas present she should give him in return.

Blushing madly at some of the more…creative suggestions, Maggie had sneakily informed them that she'd already had similar thoughts for that night, even without him proposing.

Ed, in the meantime was rather surprised to be having a civil conversation with Bruce Wayne. He had always thought that the millionaire was a complete dope, without an intelligent thought in his head.

He found to his shock that the reality was far different from his original impression.

Bruce, who projected the air of a rich airhead with no real job, was actually a very savvy businessman who left the minutiae of his dealings to his most trusted employees. However, for the really BIG deals, he was there, along with a super sharp team of lawyers that were known to be the pit bulls of their particular vocation.

Dick Grayson was off on one side, having a conversation with a couple of cute teenaged girls, both the daughters of important businessmen; both beautiful, both well endowed physically, and both smarter than the average debutante.

A hush had descended over the crowd when the Pope and his entourage had come into the room, simply projecting power without really seeming to.

Introductions were made all around, and Maggie had clung to Ed's side fearfully. She'd still had issues with any figure of ecclesiastical authority; flatly refusing to set foot inside a church or go to confession.

"Your Holiness," Mayor Linseed had said, "These two are Edward Nashton and his fiancée, Margaret O'Shaughnessy. They're the ones that brought down the roof at the performance tonight."

Much to Maggie's relief, Julius had smiled at them warmly and extended a hand for Ed to shake, "I am very much aware of who you two are, but not for the reasons you think. I have a surprise for you two, if you will wait but a moment."

He managed to get everyone's attention and while all eyes were on him, he spoke.

"Many years ago, a great and terrible scandal took place within this city. Many young girls were robbed of their childhood; their innocence; their virginity; and their own children. All of this was done by the authority of an evil man who has since met his own fate."

"I speak of your former Bishop O'Shaughnessy, who went home to face God some years ago after drowning off the coast of Naples. I am here to redress the great and terrible wrong done by him, and those who worked for him"

"These two in especial were robbed by him. This young lady with the incredible voice was his niece; his only brother's only daughter. The man beside her was the great love of her life, and sent to a juvenile facility for the simple crime of stealing a dozen eggs and two cans of corned beef hash."

When the Pope had started his speech, Ed had frozen in place, his eyes hardening at the mere mention of everything that had been done. Here the two of them had been trying to put everything into the past, and now the Pope was dredging it up again!

Maggie had poked him in the side as the Pope continued.

"Their own child was stolen from them and adopted by a pair of wonderful people, and I should know. They were my brother and his wife, respectively, and two finer individuals you could not find anywhere. On a trip to Italy, they were sadly killed in an automobile accident, leaving their son in my care."

"Due to the idiocies of the United States Government, and my own, I decided to take it upon myself to raise my brother's adopted son.

He is a fine young man, and a credit to both sets of parents. Michael, come here." He'd said to a young man of about sixteen years of age who was standing behind him.

"Edward, Margaret; I present to you, your son, Michael Anthony O'Brien."

For long seconds, they had stared at each other in shock; the last thing Ed and Maggie had expected was to find their firstborn son, much less in the care of the current Pope!

"Michael? You're our son?"

"Yeah, according to the adoption papers I am." He'd said with a snarky grin that was an echo of his father's.

From that day, whenever the event was spoken of, no one could say who had made the first move. One second the three were separated by a good two feet in distance, the next they were all engaged in a three way embrace, and everyone in the room was cheering madly.

There wasn't a dry eye in the house; everyone was crying from Mayor Linseed and his wife, right down to the busboys, who were mopping their eyes with the towels on their arms.

After finally retiring for the evening in the comfort of their apartment, Ed and Maggie had spent hours with Michael hearing about his adventures growing up in Italy.

He in turn heard all about his father's various criminal adventures, butting heads, sometimes literally with Batman and Robin.

Maggie, had told them of her travels throughout the country, from Gotham City to New York, to California, to South America, and of all the friends she had made before her illness drove her to seek Ed out.

It was four o'clock in the morning before they finally managed to get to bed, and immediately drop off to sleep.

But the fun, as they say, hadn't stopped there.