Continuing to fulfill his promise, Bruce met Cassandra after her third Sunday service, a pair of dark glasses covering his eyes and waiting inside one of his more basic (but still very impressive) bright red sports cars, parked in an empty bank lot just across the street.

"I hope you can forgive me for trying to be inconspicuous," Bruce said, pinching his eyes as she climbed in. "Batman's quite busy enough, Bruce Wayne doesn't need any additional publicity picking up the daughter the paparazzi knows nothing about."

"It is fine," Cassandra said. "I am surprised you do it personally. Did Alfred object?"

"No, of course not," Bruce said. "I just know you have some hard feelings about the uniform, and I want to be sure you know I don't want to be discouraging." They were quiet then for a minute as Bruce made his way into the Sunday morning traffic. "It's still early enough, do you want to get some breakfast?"

Cassandra was surprised by this. "Oh, alright. Will we attract attention?"

"Let's hope not, but it's not like I can avoid it forever." Bruce drove through the streets slowly and carefully, turning to Cassandra as she giggled quietly. "What are you laughing at?"

"Is it hard to wait and not just drive through everything?" She asked. It took Bruce a moment to realize she was referring to his often haphazard habits behind the wheel of the batmobile.

"Let's just say I have to donate enough to keep these roads useable as is. I tear enough of it up at night, I really can't do that during the day."

For the next few traffic lights they were quiet again before Bruce resumed the conversation with, "I feel like I spent too long taking for granted what you need from me."

"What do you mean?"

"Dick had a father and even a mostly normal life before me. Tim had his even well into the time he was Robin. And of course Barbara and Stephanie both have families they can go to. But you, and Damian if... No, Damian when he comes back, don't have that kind of worldly foundation... With Dick, Tim, even Jason, I was two-parts mentor and one part parent. But I tried that with you and neither of us seemed satisfied. I'm sorry I felt you alone as long as I did, and I want to do more to fix that."

"Thank you. It means a lot." Cassandra said, touched by a gentleness that Bruce rarely displayed.

They had soon escaped the trappings of Gotham's inner-city, driving into the countryside towards Wayne Manor when he stopped at a small restaurant with the title "Gino's", only two cars parked in the lot.

"I must have driven by this place a million times. They probably have photographs of the batmobile posted inside, and I've never been here. Might have to pay off the waitstaff to not get too excited that we're here," he concluded under his breath.

The two were seated quickly in the nearly-empty diner, each soon sipping coffee and trying to adjust to the unusual, but not unpleasant, situation. None of the staff seemed to recognize Bruce, thankfully.

"The point I was making in the car," he said quietly, "Is that there's more to adoption than just living in my house. I told you then, you're family… I haven't always treated you like that, but it's the least you deserve. And I hope you can forgive me for how long it took me to realize that."

"I have not always known what forgiveness is. But I think I have always felt it. Especially recently though."

"I wasn't entirely sure how this religious odyssey of yours was going to turn out," Bruce said, taking another sip from his mug. "But I just kept reminding myself that at your age, it's very good you're making decisions for yourself. I would have never predicted this one, but it seems to be working for you."

"It makes me happy," Cassandra said.

"Good. That's what it's supposed to do. In my experience at least."

Their conversation paused again when one of the wait staff set down two large omelets in front of the two of them, Bruce requesting more coffee for the two of them when she asked if they needed anything else. When their cups had been filled, Cassandra picked up with, "What do you believe?"

"Did Tim make that crack about how I have a plan to take down God if he becomes disagreeable?" Cassandra nodded, Bruce's eyes shifting uncomfortably. "I er… That wasn't a serious document…" Cassandra looked at him, now stunned. "It was a codename! It was for… Who do you think it was for?" He asked in a hushed voice. "I used to save a lot of my contingencies like that. Say you've got a plan in case Superman goes rogue and he'll seek out and destroy it. Say it's your plan for keeping out of hell and you just get written off as a madman." Now again Cassandra was laughing. "I haven't had any of those files since they were stolen… I assure you, they don't exist anymore."

"I believe you," Cassandra said. "You did not answer my question."

"It's a very hard question for me to answer," Bruce said, his eyes darting around the café to be sure no one was giving him any attention, which he was assured they weren't. "I've met a lot of… People in very interesting states of being Cassandra. The kinds of people that make all traditional kinds of belief very questionable… And I'm not going to go into that in a place like this." He said, quieting himself again. "I've seen incredible evil and incredible good both out there, and I've accepted that there is a lot of it I haven't seen as well… As I've asked you in the past, don't let me hinder your interest though."

"I will not," Cassandra said. "Since meeting the Monsignor, everything I have learned… I feel so at home. With church, God, Jesus, I feel like I belong."

"It could be," Bruce proposed, "That nothing ever felt like it really encouraged your more gentle tendencies. From a young age you were taught that compassion was weakness and in-" he stopped abruptly to assure the waitress they didn't need anything more and the omelets were tasting great, "Sorry. In our 'line of work', you unfortunately were made to stick to what you knew best… But however skilled you were, that didn't necessarily mean it completely matched your personality."

"I have always been happy to help," she said. "You would not be my family if I had not."

"But you're going to tell me it didn't become exhausting that you were still doing the same things you were trained to?" Bruce asked. "I doubt that. I think your conversion may be an outlet that you're using to feel and express things you have little experience with. And I'm not saying that in a negative way, I only mean that I think it is helping you become better attuned to those emotions. Things you have always felt, but not always been able to express."

"Maybe," Cassandra said. "I can understand that."

"It might not have just been Jesus you were looking so hard for. He might have helped you find yourself as well," Bruce said with a smile. "And I'm very glad for that."

The two continued to talk over breakfast, Cassandra feeling and appreciating the effect Bruce was going for. He was right, there had been some tension after he rejected the uniform, but she felt comforted sitting and talking to him. "You know Christmas isn't much more than a month away. I know you've always celebrated with us, but I imagine it'll feel a little different this year, don't you think? At least for you?"

"I guess. I had not thought about that."

"Let's just hope this situation with Lebowitz gets resolved before then," Bruce muttered. The words should not have garnered any attention, but he was being quiet nonetheless. "That would be a good Christmas present for all of us."

"I agree," Cassandra said.

"Well, you never ask for much anyway, so if anything special comes to mind, let me know. I think you know how unfortunately busy things get around the holidays." To anyone else that would of course have meant shopping and hastily collecting presents. In their line of work, it was Joker and Calendar Man pulling as many holiday-themed stunts as they could possibly fit in the season. "You and your brothers help keep me together in all that."

As Bruce and Cassandra finished their breakfasts, she could not help but notice a man nervously looking back and forth between Bruce and his morning paper. "That man keeps looking at you," she remarked.

Bruce turned towards him. He did not mean to glare, but he could not prevent his eyes from being intense. "Can I help you sir?"

The man shifted more erratically before finally settling his eyes on him and stuttering, "I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to stare… It's just… I overheard your voice and got a good look at you and… Well…" Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Are you Superman by some chance?"

Cassandra burst out laughing to the point she had to hold her forehead and quickly her sides. There had been so little build-up and it had come out of nowhere, but she could not help herself, and only laughed harder when she saw Bruce give the glare on purpose and then scowl. He reached into his pocket, produced his wallet, and set a stack of bills probably around two or three times the size of their orders on the table, motioning to Cassandra to follow him to the car.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She insisted.

"Don't be," Bruce remarked. "For the first time since I met you you're actually acting a little more on center… If this is the worst I have to go through with that, it'll all be worth it."