Author's Note: The plot thickens! And there's some fluff too. The next chapter is Christmas Eve!

Songs: "The Woods" - Stars (really only relevant once they go outside)

Chapter 10

She stepped into the kitchen, dressed in the Dick-approved outfit of fitted sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt, to find Alfred already busy preparing breakfast. It was still rather early, and Dick had explained to her that Jason would not be up yet before he had returned to his room to get ready for the day, so she assumed they had this time to themselves.

"Good morning, Alfred," she chirped, sliding onto one of the stools, and the elderly man turned toward her in surprise.

"Miss Kory!" he greeted, smiling broadly. "I was not anticipating anyone to be awake so early."

"I typically do not sleep past the rising of the sun," she explained with a shrug, tracing her fingers along some hypothetical path in the counter.

"Well then you get to decide what we have for breakfast," Alfred said cheerfully, turning to face her as he placed his hands on the opposite side of the counter. "French toast or pancakes?"

She considered the possibilities, her mouth shifting side-to-side in thought. "French toast," she replied, and Alfred nodded heartily.

"French toast it will be, then," he agreed, and she smiled as he began pulling bowls and pans from various drawers and cupboards.

"So," she began, more uncomfortable with the silence than she was with attempting to inspire conversation, "did you have pleasant schlorvaks?"

"Did I what?" Alfred blurted, looking across at her with utter bewilderment.

"What I mean is, did you- Did you have the nice dreams," she said awkwardly, the phrase unfamiliar in her mouth.

"Oh," Alfred chuckled as he went to the fridge and removed the container of eggs. "I do not recall having any dreams at all, but I did sleep rather well, thank you. And yourself?" he inquired as he began breaking the shells, the gelatinous liquid pouring into the black bowl in front of him.

"I also slept very well," she answered, smiling happily. "It is much quieter here than in Jump. Even though our Tower is out in the bay, the sounds of the city have a tendency to drift across the water."

"Yes, Wayne Manor is far removed from the hustle and bustle. All alone up here on our little hill," he chortled.

"Does Mr. Wayne possess a lot of the surrounding land?" she asked, and Alfred nodded.

"Oh yes. It assures Master Wayne his privacy and preserves the forest, considering Master Wayne never intends to build anything else on the property."

"I suppose such precautions are necessary," she mused. "Considering…well…"

"That he is Batman?" Alfred helpfully supplied, and she smiled and nodded. "Yes, that does require a certain amount of secrecy."

"What's for breakfast?" an eager voice asked, and Starfire turned to see a bedraggled Jason banging through the door.

"French toast," Alfred replied, flashing her a small wink, and she stifled a giggle.

"Well I wouldn't wait for Dick and Bruce. They're having some super serious discussion in the study," Jason said with a yawn as he slid onto the stool beside Starfire.

Her eyebrows furrowed. She was curious, of course, but knew better than to ask. Dick would tell her if he could, and, if he could not, it would do no good asking Jason. He obviously did not know what it was about anyway.

"I shall simply make theirs last," Alfred said, and the pan sizzled and popped as he placed the first slices of sopping bread inside. "One slice or two, Miss Kory?"

"Oh, I would really rather wait for-"

"Morning," Dick said, entering the kitchen as if he had been cued. "French toast?" He sat on the stool at Starfire's other side, pointedly avoiding her gaze, and she knew he did not want to be asked any questions at the moment.

"Yes," Alfred confirmed before turning to her once again. "So, what will it be?"

"Two, please," she replied, smiling broadly at him.

Alfred flipped the slices in the pan as Dick's hand found hers under the table, subtly stroking across the tops of her fingers with his thumb.

She smiled softly at him, and he returned it, but she could tell his mind was elsewhere.

"There you are!" Alfred announced, and the plate clattered to the counter in front of her. "And here is your mustard," he added, placing the large, yellow bottle beside her.

"Thank you," she said with a giggle, and fiddled with her fork, intending to wait for the others to be served.

"Don't bother," Dick said, anticipating her politeness. "It'll be cold if you wait for us."

She glanced at him uncertainly, but the idea of cold French toast was enough to make her heed his advice.

After squeezing a generous helping of mustard on the side, she began cutting the bread into smaller pieces, dipping them in the yellow condiment before bringing the fork to her mouth.

"Okay, I have to ask," Jason interjected, and she turned to see him staring at her with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. "How on earth did you end up putting mustard on everything?"

"Well, I actually began by drinking it," she explained, but cut off as Jason sputtered violently.

"Nevermind," he said weakly, clutching his stomach. "Forget I asked."

Starfire giggled softly as she returned to her French toast, just as Jason's slices were arriving in front of him.

Watching the boy out of the corner of her eye as he positively drowned his plate in syrup, she marveled at just how similar he was to Dick. They were not biologically related, and yet, they were the epitome of brothers. They also bore a striking resemblance to Bruce, and he could certainly have been the father of both boys. It was odd that such a family could have been constructed purely by the twisting of fate.

Before long, everyone had their breakfast except for Alfred, who was preparing another batch of French toast. She had assumed he was preparing it for himself, so when he placed it on a tray and covered it with a silver lid, she was confused.

"Are you not eating, Alfred?" she inquired, finished with her helping.

"I will in a moment," he explained with a smile. "I simply need to bring Master Bruce his breakfast first."

"I can deliver it," she offered, and Dick choked loudly beside her. She gave him a scathing look before turning back to Alfred, not the least bit dissuaded by Dick's lack of confidence.

"It's no trouble," Alfred insisted, picking up the tray and heading toward the door. "I can bring it."

"But I am already finished," she argued, rising from her stool and blocking Alfred's path. "Please, allow me to deliver it," she added, not even certain herself why she was so determined to do this.

Alfred appeared to be wondering the same thing, his eyes scanning her curiously. "Very well," he muttered, dropping the tray into her waiting hands. "Thank you, Miss Kory."

"You are most welcome!" she chirped back. She caught a fleeting glimpse of Dick's uneasy eyes on her before she slipped through the door, leaving it swinging behind her.

Did he believe she would drop the tray? Surely she was capable of delivering breakfast. And, if it were Bruce Dick was concerned about, well she did not fear him. He was intimidating, certainly, and not terribly hospitable, but that was no reason for her to be avoiding him. Indeed, it was just further reason for her to converse with him.

As she reached the study door, she found it open, but she balanced the tray in one hand and knocked just to be certain she was permitted to enter.

"Come in," Bruce snapped, and she wondered how someone could already be in such a poor mood so early in the morning.

He was sitting at his desk, hunched over and staring intently at the papers that appeared to cover every inch of it. He did not look up as she approached, and, as she grew level with the desk, she thought she best say something, if only to ask where he wanted her to place the tray.

"Mr. Wayne?" she said softly, and as politely as she could manage, not wishing to disrupt his obviously deep thought.

Evidently she did, however, because he snapped his head up, his eyes momentarily widening in surprise before his face returned to normal.

"Kory," he said, brushing some of the papers to the side. "I thought it was Alfred."

"I offered to deliver your breakfast in his stead," she explained, placing the tray in the area he cleared for it. "It is French toast."

"Good, good," he muttered, still half-focused on a sheet of paper in his hand.

She hovered for a moment, uncertain what to do, and then accepted that this moment would not be her chance to converse with him. "Enjoy," she said simply, flashing him a smile he did not see before turning and walking back toward the door.

"Kory?" he called, and she snapped around.

"Yes?"

"How many languages do you speak?" he asked, his forehead wrinkled, and she noticed for the first time just how exhausted he appeared.

"Of your earthen dialects..." she paused, contemplating. "Several hundred. Why do you ask?"

"Can you tell me what this says?" he asked, slapping a paper down on the desk and turning it around for her to see.

She approached cautiously, excited that he was asking for her help, and yet nervous that she would not be able to provide it. Her fears were not dissuaded as she read the text, however. While she could read it, it was not pleasant.

"Lugal-Sha-Gizzu," she said, her voice low and guttural as she spoke it aloud.

"What does it mean?" Bruce inquired.

"It is ancient Sumerian," she explained, placing it back down on the desk and turning it to face him, a grave expression on her face. "It means 'Master of Shadows'."

Bruce's forehead furrowed as he stared down at the page, sliding it out from beneath her fingers to examine it closely again.

"Ancient Sumerian," he mumbled, seemingly to himself. "Why would someone sign a letter in Sumerian?"

"I imagine," she interjected, and he looked somewhat alarmed to find her still standing there, "it is because they did not want it to be read."

He stared up at her, a stern expression on his face, but her determined gaze did not waver.

"From where did that letter come?" she asked firmly.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he surveyed her, his blue eyes boring into her as if searching for something, but still she did not drop her gaze.

Abruptly, his eyes softened, and she thought she saw the ghost of a smirk cross his face as he sighed, looking back down at the paper once again.

"It wasn't sent to me," he explained, and though she had asked the question, she was shocked to receive a proper answer. "It was in one of the communications we intercepted."

"Communications of the criminals, I presume," she clarified, and he nodded.

"That name has just been popping up a lot lately, thought it might help to know what it means," he muttered, grinding his fingers into his forehead.

"Does it?" she asked.

Bruce dropped his hand from his forehead, tracing along the edges of the page with his fingers. "Not yet," he growled determinedly, and she shuddered.

It was so much like Dick. So much. And, when Dick became some blindly determined, he often went to great lengths, dangerous lengths. She hoped Bruce would not be so stubbornly foolhardy.

"Anyway, thank you," he said, brushing the papers aside as he pulled the tray closer to him. "And tell Alfred thanks for me too."

She nodded, taking that as her dismissal as she walked toward the door.

"Oh, and Kory?" he called once again, and she turned halfway back. "You can call me Bruce," he added, an impossibly faint smile creasing his weary face.

She smiled back at him, her heart a glowing ember of joy as she headed out into the hallway. It was all she could down not to race to Dick, to tell him everything that had happened, but, at the same time, it was not all good news.

Surely Dick was already aware of the matters Bruce had discussed with her, but would he wish to talk about it? Would he be upset she had been told? Or was Bruce perhaps confiding in her, trusting she would not tell Dick?

She slowed as she thought about it, suddenly not nearly as eager to share her news.

"Hey, Kory!" she heard someone calling from behind her, and she turned from her thoughts to see Jason bounding down the hall toward her. "Dick's looking for you," he said, and her heart fluttered nervously.

"Oh…alright," she mumbled. "Where will I find him?"

"He's at the back door by the- Ya know what, I'll just take you," Jason said, laughing as he waved her to follow him back the way she had come. "I got lost in here a few times when I first came. Too many rooms," he added, gesturing to the doors they passed.

"You do not like the vastness of the Manor?" she asked, walking alongside him.

"Well I like it now," he clarified, "it was just really confusing at first. It's fun once you get the hang out it though. Lots of places to hide."

"Why would you wish to hide?" she inquired as the hallway ended and they walked through an unfamiliar room with large tables covered in green cloth and colorful spheres.

"To spy, of course!" he said, laughing maniacally, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

He was certainly much different than Dick, in spite of their physical similarities.

"And on whom do you spy?" she pried, assuming she may as well get all the information she could as long as he was being so forthcoming.

"Bruce and Dick mostly," he said with a shrug. "They're always talking about mission stuff without me. They don't think I'm ready."

"Ready for what?"

"For the field," he explained, his tone heavy with bitterness. "They think I'm too violent, that I still need more training," he grumbled, scowling at the space ahead of them. "But all I do is train! I'm running courses and simulations all the time, but it's still not good enough. It's never gonna be good enough!" he shouted suddenly, and she recoiled at the anger that flared off the boy.

Suddenly, what he had said about Dick and Bruce considering him to be too violent made a certain level of sense.

He breathed heavily for a few moments, and she walked slightly slower so as to give him ample space to calm down. He did soon enough, however, and they returned to walking side-by-side in silence.

"You know, Jason," she said as they descended a short staircase, "it is difficult for me to keep my emotions under control on occasion as well."

"Really?" he said, looking up at her with skeptical amusement. "You? That I find hard to believe."

"It is true," she assured, nodding. "There have been times when my friends have been in danger, sometimes even injured, that I have wished to search out the perpetrators and cause them similar harm," she explained, her voice growing more like a snarl as she talked. "But," she continued, forcing herself to return to something closer to serene, "vengeance is not ours to seek. It would only begin a cycle of despair."

Jason stopped in front of her, just before a doorway into what appeared to be a large, tiled room swept with streaks of sun.

"Ya know," he mumbled, looking up at her dazedly, "I never thought about it like that. About what would happen after."

She nodded slowly. "Vengeance only leads to vengeance," she reiterated, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I am certain you will be a great Robin, Jason. Once you have mastered your patience," she added, chuckling softly.

He smiled back at her, and she wondered how he could suddenly look so much younger. "Thanks," he muttered, and she nodded as he led her into the room.

"There you are!" Dick said, rushing over to her, dressed in a large, red coat and heavy boots. "I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost."

"I brought her down," Jason said as Dick grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the glass door in front of them.

"Thanks, Jase," he muttered, and Starfire turned to smile at him as well as Jason slipped out the door they had come through.

"Is he not invited on…whatever outing you intend?" she asked, scanning his attire curiously.

"Jason's not much for the cold," Dick explained as he handed her her green coat. "I thought we'd go outside and look around a bit, check out all the snow and the woods and stuff. We don't often get to see snow unless we're on a mission."

"And you never allow us to play in it then," she said, and he sneered at her playfully as he placed her boots in front of her.

"Are you alright just wearing those?" he asked, pointing to her sweatpants. "Because we have other snow stuff, if you want."

"It is fine," she assured, slipping her feet into the boots. "I highly doubt I will fall."

Dick chuckled. "Yea, I suppose you'll just fly. Unless I'm there."

"Why would your presence have any bearing on if I fell?" she asked coyly, ensuring the zipper on her jacket was completely up.

"No reason," he muttered, but gave her a smirk she could not help but return. "Ya ready?" he asked, opening the door as she nodded.

The snow glistened as the sun spread across it, and hung heavy on the tall, green trees towering over their heads. As they walked further from the house, small tracks could be seen, made by animals too small to even break through the smooth surface.

She spotted a particularly adorable set of bird prints, and lifted her head to inform Dick to find him several feet ahead, looking up at an alarmingly tall tree.

A devilish idea occurred to her, and she smirked as she bent to the ground, leaving the bird tracks intact as she scooped up some snow. The ball of snow collided with a heavy thump, and Dick pitched forward slightly as he cried out in alarm.

He turned toward her, his mouth gaping in offense. "Oh, so that's how it gonna be!" he shouted suddenly, and she squealed as he bent to the ground to fabricate his own ammunition.

She sought safety behind a tree, and the projectile shattered on the bark, sending wisps of white drifting past her on either side.

"You can't hide forever!" he shouted, and she screamed as she heard him approaching, already much closer than she had thought.

Darting out from behind the tree, trying to keep her movements quick and erratic so as to prove a more difficult target, she ran for a large rock some distance away. It was a more easily defensible position, and there was ample snow drifted up against it to use as ammunition. Before she could get there, however, arms wrapped around her waist, and she fell forward with a squeal, the side of her head smashing into the snow.

Dick laughed above her as she turned, looking up at his pale face, his cheeks and nose pink from the cold.

Their laughter faded to sighs as he lay down beside her, taking her hand in his as they looked up at the snow-topped trees above them.

"Kory?" he said after a moment, and she turned to find him already looking at her, a hesitant, nervous expression on his face.

"Yes?" she replied when he did not immediately continue, growing worried as he looked more and more serious.

"I… I…" he stammered, his mouth opening and closing several times in failed attempts. He sighed heavily, looking away for a moment before returning his gaze to her. "I'm really glad you came," he concluded, smiling softly.

She beamed back at him, her body warming in spite of the cold. "I am happy to be here as well," she replied, and he smiled even broader as he lifted onto his side, closing the distance between their faces.

Just before their lips connected, however, she whipped her left hand over her body and slammed a handful of snow into the side of his face, sending him spluttering away.

She laughed as she leapt up, running back toward the house.

"CHEATER!" he shouted, and she ran even faster, knowing she would be doing the paying for that if he caught her.