A/N: Hello m'dears… I hope that the week has been a good one to you.

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"How long have you actually known Father was Batman?"

Raya glanced at Damian. "Why do you ask?"

"Pennyworth says you've always known," he replied. "I want to know if he is right."

"Why don't ya go and ask Bruce then?" Dick suggested with a cheeky grin. "Force him into confirming Alfred's claim."

Damian stopped scavenging through the DVD case for something they could watch long enough to ffff. "Father refuses to give me an answer, Grayson. That is why I asked Raya."

"Try using the word please next time, then."

Inarticulate muttering was his response to that. Raya swore that the teen hero compared Dick to a jack ass at least twice. Finally, he turned those stormy eyes upon her and gritted, "Is Alfred correct? Have you always known Father was Batman?"

"Yes, Damian." Raya went back to examining a box of shiny red balls for any that were cracked and broken. "I have known Bruce was Batman since I was eight."

"How?"

She cast a quick look at Dick. He was busily digging out a tangled mass of various Christmas lights with a resigned expression upon his face. She hid a smile and went to pour him a cup of coffee from the tray Alfred had brought up a little while ago.

"How what?" She asked as she picked the cup up and carried it over to Dick.

"How did you know? You were a child."

"Yes, I was a child," she said, smiling as Dick took the cup. "But I was old enough and wise enough to notice the small inflictions that are in his voice and which distinguish him from the times when he's Batman, and those when he is Bruce Wayne." She heard Damian snort and turned to say, "I was also capable of seeing the faint changes that occur in his expression when he's switching between one and the other, Dami."

Damian made a Tt sound and flopped himself down in the overstuffed armchair that was in front of the television.

"Father would never have been that careless." He flicked a glance over at Raya, one dark brow cocked. "Even being less experienced and not quite as in control of himself as he is now, he would never have been so reckless as to give away his identity to a child."

"He would when the child in question was this adorable little sprite with these big green eyes," a voice rumbled from the doorways. "And an impish smile capable of melting through even his darkness."

Damian whipped around in his chair to stare, drop-jawed at his father. "You gave away your identity, Father?" he demanded once he was able to find his voice. "Why?"

"My identity wasn't quite as important to me as comforting a traumatized little girl was, Damian."

"How could you be so reckless?" he gritted. "You are the one who says we must be cautious about whom we allow to know our real identities."

Bruce smiled as he strolled over and took a seat at the other end of the huge sectional. "Does Raya's knowing my identity for such a long time really matter to you, Damian?"

Damian grumbled something beneath his breath before he cast a sharp glance at Raya. "Explain to me how exactly you uncovered Batman's identity." A discreet cough from his father was enough to get him to add, "Please," in a mumbled monotone.

Raya hid a smile while pouring coffee into a cup she passed over to Bruce. Their eyes met and shared secrets. That it was definitely bugging their little birdie about how she'd known who Batman was from such an early age was clear to them both. It bugged Dick at first as well, she thought as she placed the pot back upon the tray.

"Damian, I knew from the look on your father's face the night he rescued me from Detective Branson that he and Batman were one and the same. His..."

"Look?" Dick interjected with a snort. He settled on the couch with the tangled lights. "Which look was it exactly that tipped you off, Rae? Was it his I'm-about-to-unleash-holy-hell-upon-you one or the welcome-to-your-own-beating one?"

She snickered and shook her head. "It's the same one I see when I look into your eyes, bird brain."

"I have a look?" he asked before slinging an arm around her waist and pulling her down into his lap. "Pray tell what does this look of mine look like?"

"Well," Raya drawled as she circled his neck with her arms. "It's this look that turns me into goo even when I'm so angry at you that I could hit you over the head with one of your Eskrima sticks."

Dick made a derisive sound before dumping the mass of lights into her lap with a lopsided grin. Raya glanced down at the lights and then back at him, one eyebrow lifted.

"Please help unravel these lights and spare me from teaching our baby bird any more naughty words?" he begged. "Oh, and tell me more about my look while you're at it." His grin stretched wider. "I'm quite intrigued with this idea that I have some look which separates me from Nightwing."

She harrumphed at his blatantly manipulative tactic, but began to help him unravel the tangled strands anyway. "It's that look you get whenever your facade crumbles and the man beneath who is hungry to be loved, and to love in return comes shining through."

Aha, Dick thought. Woman knows me best. He placed a soft kiss to her cheek. "You should know all about that man hungry to love and be loved then," he told her in a soft voice. "You've been seeing him a whole lot more often as of late."

Her expression softened and she leaned in to give him a soft kiss. "That I have been," she agreed with a smile. "And I rather like seeing him around. He's a lot less annoying than you."

Dick growled and banded his arms around Raya, who started giggling. Damian stifled a groan. As thrilled as he was that his oldest siblings had finally sorted out the truth of their relationship, he was really in no mood for their mushy displays of affection.

"How did you figure out that Father was Batman?" he groused.

Raya swallowed a laugh before looking over at the frustrated boy. "I just told you."

"You told me about Dick's look!" he growled. "Not Father's!"

"Dick's look is the same look Bruce gets when the suspicious, paranoid, tormented, dark and moody, grim, sophisticated, self-absorbed, spoiled, angry, rich guy façade drops off."

Bruce coughed and then said dryly, "Thank you for pointing out all my negative qualities, imp."

Raya flashed him a grin. "I love you?"

Dick snickered. "That won't work. He's immune to those tricks."

"Not from me he's not."

Damian went to scoff, but froze in mid-breath as her words sunk in. Was she right? he wondered. Did his father's hunger to love and to be loved in return shine through when his mask came off? He imagined it could. How Raya would know that though was a mystery to him still. A mystery which was solved when a tiny voice in the back of his head reminded him about how if anybody would know about wearing masks, it was Raya Kean.

"You figured out who Batman was," he said slowly. "Because you know when someone is wearing a mask."

She nodded. "Yup."

"Figures doesn't it?" Dick teased Damian. "Only Raya would figure out who Batman was from observing how Bruce's mask was a mask."

"Well, I'd learned how to hide my own anger, grief and fears behind a mask before I could walk."

"I know you did, baby."

Raya heard the ripple of anger in his voice, and turned to rest her forehead against his. "Let it go, Dick."

"I can't let it go, Rae." He stared into her eyes, seeing all the things she kept buried swimming in that jeweled toned sea. He vowed to replace every inch of her darkness with light. "I won't be able to let it go until your father is locked away as I promised you he would be."

Damian could sense Dick's shifting mood and opted to turn the subject back to the one they were discussing to avoid the night being spoiled.

"Alfred said you refused to confirm to Commissioner Gordon about Father being Batman. Is that true?"

Raya knew what Damian was about. She was never more proud of him for his ability to recognize a bad situation and divert it than she was at that moment. Bruce as well noticed how his youngest son had neatly stirred things away from the swirling abyss and reached over to set his hand on his shoulder. Damian shot a glance at his father, expecting a reprimand and was pleasantly surprised when he saw the pride shimmering in those dark blue depths.

"Yes," he heard Raya say. "It's true."

"Why didn't you tell?"

"Knowing who Batman is beneath the cowl has always been about trust."

"Trust?" he asked her with one eyebrow lifted. "You did not tell your uncle that you knew who he was beneath the cowl because you didn't want to betray his trust?"

"Yes."

Damian rolled his eyes. "Kean…" he began on a low growl but Raya just cut him off.

"Having your father's trust and respect was, and is, something that means the world to me."

"It's not something you've ever had to worry about, imp," Bruce told her quietly. "You've always had my trust and respect. You always will."

Raya canted her head and looked over at him with eyes that were just a bit blurry. "Thank you," she murmured throatily. "I appreciate hearing that."

"You kept Father's secret in order to keep his trust?"

"Yes," she glanced back at Damian. "I did."

"You'll find that Raya's ability to keep secrets is something you will come to both admire and hate," Dick said with a smile. "I didn't know she knew I was Robin until she told me she knew."

Raya flicked his ear with her finger. "Well, keeping Batman's secrets also meant keeping Robin's secrets, bird brain."

"Is that why you didn't tell me you knew I was Nightwing when you moved to Blüdhaven?"

"Well," she said slowly. "I wasn't honestly sure you were Nightwing when I first moved to Blüdhaven." She smiled sheepishly. "I figured you'd given up being a nocturnal crime fighter in favor of joining the BCPD to be a civil servant one."

Both eyebrows shot up. "You thought I'd given up being a crime fighter in favor of becoming a police officer?"

"I did." She nodded. "Yes."

"Why?" he asked curiously. Not that the idea hadn't occurred to him. He just never suspected that she'd actually thought it. "What exaxtly made you think I'd given up crime fighting?"

"Well, you never said you took another identity."

He tapped her nose with one finger. "You never asked me if I had."

She swatted at his hand. "Well, that would be because every time I mentioned Bruce, Robin, or crime fighting, you got touchier than an alligator getting his teeth pulled with a pair of pliers." Her lips curved. "After getting my head snapped off about twenty times or so, I learned to not bring up the subject in order to avoid the fight."

"I wasn't that bad," he grumbled.

"Yes, you were."

"No, I wasn't."

"Totally were."

"Children…" Bruce smothered a laugh by taking a sip of coffee. "Can you argue about this later?"

"Yea, Winged Wonder," Raya teased. "We'll argue about it later."

"You're so gonna lose then," Dick told her cheekily.

"Oh, really?" she drawled. "And why's that?"

"'Cause you're gonna be on my turf and playing by my rules."

Raya gave him a superior feminine look. "Your confidence is going to be your downfall, darling."

"Anyway," Dick said on a long sigh. "I remember that when I told you I was Nightwing that you weren't surprised. How'd you finally figure it out?"

"I kinda figured it out after you banged up your shoulder in that warehouse explosion." At his snort, she said, "Kinda hard to ignore when your alter-ego has a scar in the same shoulder that you do."

"So, you wouldn't have known it was me unless you'd gotten my armor off."

Raya merely rolled her eyes. "I think I'd have figured it out the night Deathstroke shot you, feather brains."

"His fighting style or his inability to not shut up?" Damian snarked.

Raya snorted a laugh. "It was his bitching about how bad getting shot hurt."

"I had a bullet in my thigh, Rae."

"I know. I dug it out."

"I'm assuming you were shot by Deathstroke while you were living in New York?" Bruce's voice dripped with dark humor. "Or maybe I should just ask Raya about it." The corner of his lips lifted in the ghost of a smile. "Considering how forthcoming you are about such things."

"Raya," Dick muttered upon seeing the brief flash of hurt that flickered in the older man's eyes. He felt the irresistible urge to squirm, much as he'd done when he'd been a kid and done something he knew he shouldn't have. He didn't much like the pangs of guilt it was causing him one iota. "Do me a favor and shut-up."

"Well, ya shoulda have told him about getting yourself shot, Dick," she said primly. "Or let me call him." She slanted a look at him. "Something I recall wanting ta do right after I knew you were going to be okay."

He harrumphed. "I tend ta recall that ya didn't want me calling your uncle after you got shot."

"That would be because I didn't want my uncle to know about us living together, ya idiot."

Bruce's eyebrows shot up at hearing that. "You have never told Jim about the two of you living together in either New York or Blüdhaven?"

"Absolutely not," the two replied in unison.

"Not crazy," was what Raya said.

"Still afraid of getting shot," was what Dick said. Damian snorted a laugh and turned to plop a DVD into the DVD player.

"You are living together now," he pointed out. "You share the same bedroom."

"With you, your Father and Alfred living in the same house," Raya pointed out. "We're not living alone."

Damian turned to look at them. "There is some difference between you living at the manor with us, and on your own in your own apartment?"

Dick nodded. "There's a big difference," he said. "One you'll find out about when you get older."

Damian gave him a disgusted look before ffffing. "I'm not an imbecile, Grayson. I know what it is you are trying to avoid talking about here."

"Yeah, well," Dick muttered. "You can just keep right on avoiding talking about it."

Amused, Bruce watched the interplay in silence. This was the circle of life. He saw it in every smile, the vitality of it burning in the depths of their eyes and in their every spoken word to each other. There was a definite spark, fueled by a joy in life, in the simple pleasure of being that was now infusing the house. It was, very definitely, a quality owed to their presence. Suddenly, the normalcy of his life outside the Batsuit didn't scare the hell out of him as much as it once had. He glanced over at Dick.

"Is there anything you would like to confess before Raya does it for you?"

"No," Dick growled, casting a threatening glare in Raya's direction. "And you keep quiet."

She smiled cheekily. "So, don't tell him about that time we were chasing members of Blockbuster's gang and you got blown off the roo-"

"Quiet." The flush started creeping up Dick's neck.

"Hey, what about that one night in Metropolis when you were chasing those robbers and had that bomb…"

"Would you cut it out?" Dick spread his hand over Raya's face and gave it a nudge. "You don't see me telling either him or Gordon about every misadventure that you've had as a crime fighter, do you?"

"That's because you don't want to be responsible for giving my uncle another heart attack." She poked him in the chest with the tip of one finger. "And because you know that you'd spend the next month sleeping on the floor if you did."

"Anyway," Dick said on a long breath. "Since Bruce is staying home and can babysit you," he only grinned when she elbowed him in the stomach. "I'm going to go and give Tim a hand on patrol."

Raya's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute, wait a damned minute. Are you telling me that you are being allowed out in costume while I am still under orders to stay home?" She shot a furious look at Bruce. "That's so not fair!"

"I decided you'll be staying home for a reason, Raya."

Even as Bruce spoke, the piercing edge of her gaze raked over his face. Temper streaked through her, hot and keen, and was ruthlessly rejected. A part of her resented that he'd decided something without giving her the option of discussing the situation with him. Another part, the more rational part of her, realized Bruce was only trying to keep her safe. Still, she thought hotly. It was so not fair!

"Bruce," she kept her voice reasonable. "I really don't see the need-"

"Until Crane and your father are brought to justice," he interjected softly. "It's safer for you to remain here at home."

Raya harrumphed and flashed a look at Dick that spelled trouble if he dared set a foot outside the manor. Dick just grinned and leaned in to kiss her. "I'll make it up to you later," he said in a low tone. "I promise."

"Oh, don't think that that is going to get ya outta trouble, bird boy."

"Aw, c'mon, Rae," he whined plaintively. "I promise to be careful."

She harrumphed. "And that means you are planning to be reckless." She smirked. "I know how you are, Richard Grayson. You live for theatrics. You cannot help yourself from making either a flamboyant entrance or some type of wisecracking comment."

Dick stuck his tongue out at her. "I'm chatty. It's part of my charm."

"And part of why you get shot at so much."

"You don't complain when Bruce gets shot at."

Damian snorted. "Where have you been, Grayson? She yelled at Father for getting caught in a hailstorm of bullets just the other night."

Raya made a face. She'd forgotten about that. "Ah," she said, glancing at Bruce. "Is that why I'm still grounded? Is this payback for me yelling at you?"

Bruce's lips quirked upwards. "No, you're still grounded because you nearly got shot by a bandaged man wielding an automatic assault rifle."

Raya flashed a triumphant look at Dick. "Ha! So you should still be grounded as well! You were nearly shot by the same madman!"

"Because you left the Museum," Dick shot back with a smirk. "If you'd have remained where you were suppo…"

Raya slapped her hand over his mouth. "That's arguing semantics. Fact is, you were still nearly shot and should still remain grounded because Crane would love nothing better than to eradicate you in order to win my affections."

"She makes a good argument," Bruce mused thoughtfully. Dick shot her a dirty look.

"That's cheating, Rae."

"Tough," she said cheerily. "Way I see it is that if I can't go out and play…" she gave him a saucy grin. "You can't go out and play."

Dick growled and went to band his arms around her, but Raya escaped before he could get his hands on her. "Come back here, woman!"

"No!" Raya laughed.

Dick went to give chase, but tangled Christmas lights and a discreet cough stopped him. He, as well as everybody else turned towards the door. Alfred stood in the doorway with a large wrapped box in his hands.

"What is it, Alfred?" Bruce asked.

"This package came a few moments ago for Miss Raya," the butler said politely.

"For me?" Raya said curiously. She walked over and took the box, studying it. "I wonder who it is from then." She glanced over at Dick. "Did you send this?"

"No," Dick said in a serious voice. "I didn't."

"Bruce?"

Bruce was already on his feet and taking the box from her. "It's not from me," he told her. "And it wouldn't be from Tim, either."

"Well, who could…" she stopped when she saw the look that was on Bruce's face. It was harder, colder than she'd ever seen it. The very essence of what made him a threat to the villains of Gotham was clearly there, delineated for all of them to see. Raya frowned. What about that box could have inspired him to flip into Batman-mode? She saw the box as being nothing but a prettily wrapped package, innocent enough. Then she spied the flower nestled amidst the knot of the huge red bow. A Crane lily, she realized, paling. Bruce set the box down upon an end table before he tore it open and looked inside. His face went ashen beneath his tan, and he gagged, which immediately brought Dick and Damian to their feet.

"Bruce?" Raya asked, her face a mask of concern. She made a move to step towards him, but Bruce surprised her by shoving her, hard, towards Dick.

"Get her and Damian out of here, Dick," he rasped. "Get them out of here! Do it, now!"