Gotham City

The Next Morning

December 7th

Devon had a feeling that she knew who it was before she even answered the call.

She was wiping down a table in the diner that had just been vacated when she felt the vibration of the phone in her pocket, and she took it out trepidatiously.

Larry's contact was displayed, and, with a sigh, she answered it.

"Hello?" She left the cleaning rag on the table and walked out of hearing range of the customers.

"Where the hell were you last night?" He asked fractiously.

"Here."

"Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"What time was it?"

"What does it matter what the time was?"

"I turn the phone off when I go to bed, Larry." She crossed her arms on her chest .

"Yeah, well, don't. When I call you, I expect you to answer."

"Yeah, well, I'm not your damn slave." Who did he think that he was?!

"Getting cocky, are you? I have a remedy for that."

She was certain that he did. "Look, I'm sorry. Okay? I've been doing a lot of studying, and I've been – tired."

He was silent for a long moment, and, when he responded, he was sullen. "Don't let it happen again."

"I won't."

"I had a job for you last night." He sounded petulant now.

"Can I do it tonight?" She was apprehensive, but she asked nonetheless.

"Nah. I did it myself."

She gave a breath of relief. She really did not want to do any more jobs for him. The Batman job and the Wayne job had been much too stressful. "Oh."

"Just make sure you keep your phone on from now on."

He hung up, and Devon studied the phone for a long moment before putting it back in her pocket.


Alicante, Spain

That Afternoon

December 7th

Damian tugged on the fishing pole and gave a shout of triumph as the amberjack on his line jumped out of the water, allowing the sun to reflect off its blue and silver scales. It seemed to be more than half Damian's height and looked to be about eighty pounds.

"Oh, Darling! It's magnificent!" Talia clapped as the fish fell back into the water.

Damian grinned and, bracing himself against the boat's sidewall, reeled the line in a bit.

"Ubu! Ubu! Come help Damian reel in his fish!" She called to her manservant, and then turned to her son. "Let Ubu finish it off, Darling."

Damian's expression darkened. "No! This is my catch, and I will bring it in!"

Ubu came up, prepared to take over, but Talia waved him away. "He can do it, Ubu. Of course he can do it. He doesn't need your help."

Ubu gave an obsequious bow and stepped back.

"Mother! Mother! Look at the fish. It's huge!" Damian exclaimed.

"Of course it is, my darling. I would expect nothing less from an Al Ghul." Talia put a hand up to hold her floppy hat on her head as a strong wind blew past the boat.

"And a Wayne." He reminded her as the fish jumped out of the water again, and he used that moment to reel in his line to shorten the fish's tether.

"Careful, Damian. You do not wish to lose it."

"I won't lose it." He pulled up on the pole.

He continued to reel it in until it was near the boat, and, securing the rod, he reached over the side to the water, intending to bring his catch in. He grasped the line and started to pull the writhing fish onboard, but the animal fought him mightily, drenching Damian and trying to pull away.

Damian felt a presence come up behind him, and saw Ubu's arm reach over him to grab the line, and, with one yank, pulled the fish into the boat.

Damian fell back as the fish hit the deck, flopping and gasping for air.

"Oh, Darling! What a wonderful haul. Ubu! Remove the hook from the mouth."

"Yes, Lady Talia." Ubu efficiently took the hook from the fish's lip, and tossed it aside.

It really was magnificent, Damian reflected, its scales shiny and clean. Its eye was big and alert, but it seemed to be terror-stricken.

Damian frowned as he watched it thrash, its muscular body spasming and contorting, entering its death throes.

"Shall we eat it, Darling, or have it mounted? There is a spot right over the mantel that would be ideal for it, if you'd like."

Damian looked at his mother as if looking at a stranger. How could she sit so calmly by and watch this creature die?

"Neither." Damian shook his head, grabbed the fish by its tail, and began to drag it towards the railing.

"Damian! Whatever are you doing?" She watched as her son struggled with the fish.

Damian was silent as he attempted to pull the amberjack over the railing.

"I asked you a question! What are you doing?" His mother asked peevishly.

"I'm returning him to the ocean. Where he belongs." The fish continued to fight his savior.

"Don't be ridiculous! You just caught it."

"And now I'm setting him free. He's my fish. I can do with him what I like." Damian slipped on the sea water that covered the deck, and went down heavily on one knee.

"Oh." Talia gave a sound of disgust. "You're being maudlin. Ubu, finish it off." She waved her hand dismissively.

"No!" Damian shouted, just as Ubu picked up a large, wicked-looking sword.

They both looked at Damian as if he had suddenly grown another head. "Damian." His mother said, her voice stern, "I will not abide such ludicrous sentimentality towards a fish. Ubu." She pointed towards the amberjack, still thrashing. The manservant grabbed the animal, but Damian, with surprising strength, shoved the man away.

"I said no!" The boy grasped the animal by the tail again, and, using all his energy, dragged it to the railing and tossed it overboard.

Damian felt a hand on his arm to prevent him from falling into the sea, but shook it off and watched as the fish righted itself in the water, and swam away.


Gotham City

That Night

December 7th

Devon watched her grandmother across the table as the old woman silently chewed her dinner. There was so much that she needed to tell the older woman; so much that she wanted to tell her – about her mediocre grades, about how she didn't know what she wanted to study, about Nightwing, and how much she loved him, about Larry's missions, and that Nightwing was the object of one, and how she was failing at one of them. But she could not tell her all of those things. But she had to tell her of the last, at least, because it was, at the moment, the most critical.

Devon pushed the green peas across the plate, and looked down at the pattern she was making, and decided to plunge in. "Grandma, I think I'm in trouble."

Marie looked at her sharply. "What do you mean?"

Devon was silent for a long moment, not knowing what to say. "I didn't do one of Larry's missions."

Her eyes narrowed. "Which one?"

She sighed. "The one I've been working on all semester."

"Bringing in Kid Flash?"

"Yeah. That one."

Her grandmother looked at her for a long moment. "Why not?"

She shrugged, and continued toying with her food. "I met him."

"You were supposed to meet him."

"Yeah. I know. But I talked to him."

"And?"

"And? And he's a nice guy. With a fiancée. With a good life. And I'm not going to ruin it."

"So you'd prefer our life ruined?"

She threw down her fork. "No, Grandma! I would not prefer it. But I am sick of being Larry's bitch for crap like this! He wants me to pretend to try to kill someone! He wants me to sabotage a building – which I think makes me a domestic terrorist! He wants me to screw some guy I don't even know so that that guy will in turn screw over his friends! And I'm sick of it!"

Marie was silent.

Devon looked at her unblinkingly. "I just – don't want to do this. It's wrong."

Marie finally nodded. "All right. So how are we going to get out of it, then?"

Devon gave a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Grandma. For understanding."

Her grandmother returned the smile. "We're family. Family is always number one." She sat back. "So, do you have any ideas?"

Devon shook her head. "Not really. I mean – we could take some of the money from the diner and run. Just, you know, keep the deposits for a couple of days – enough to buy some plane tickets and – get out of Gotham."

Marie shook her head. "Most we could probably get away with is four or five days' worth, and that wouldn't be more than four thousand dollars – if we're lucky. We can't disappear with only four thousand dollars." At Devon's silence, she continued. "Besides, once we start running, we'll never be able to stop. I don't want that kind of life. And I sure as hell don't want that kind of life for you."

"What can I do, then? The semester's over next week."

Marie's look was calculating. "Let me handle this."

"What? Grandma, no." Devon shook her head. "This is my responsibility. I'll tell Larry."

Marie shook her head. "Say nothing to Larry."

"But –"

"Nothing." Marie pointed at her granddaughter. "Do you understand?"

Devon nodded solemnly. "Yes. I understand."

Her grandmother squeezed her hand. "Why don't you go do some studying?"

Devon sighed. "Yeah. I really need to."

Marie nodded, and watched as her granddaughter left the room. She reached into the pocket of her sweater and pulled out her little used cell phone.

She pulled up the only contact on the phone and dialed it. When the call was answered, she did not say hello.

"We have to talk."


Alicante, Spain

The Next Day

December 8th

Damian watched his mother as she watched one of the maids folding Damian's clothes and putting them into his suitcase.

Talia sighed, and turned to her son. "Darling, you know that you don't have to go tomorrow. We can stay here for as long as you like."

"I'd like to go back to Brussels."

She looked at him blankly, then nodded. "Very well. We can return to Belgium. There are many things that we can do there, after all. Museums. Shopping. We could go to Paris, as well. It has been many years since I went to the Louvre. Perhaps you'd like to go there."

"Another time, Mother."

She gave a stiff nod. "Of course. You're – eager to see your father. I quite understand."

"Thank you."

"I will talk to him about another visit, some time soon. After the new year. Or Christmas."

Damian shook his head. "Not Christmas. We have – plans." They did not actually have any plans yet, but he did not want to spend Christmas with his mother.

She frowned at her son. "Damian, I feel that you've become – distant from me."

"We live thousands of miles apart, Mother."

"No. I don't mean that. We used to be so – close. And now – now I feel that I barely know you." She dismissed the maid, and they were left alone

Damian returned to her the blank look that she had given him earlier. "I don't know why you feel that way."

"I never see you, and when I do, you wish to rush right back to your father."

"He needs me."

"Darling, your father needs no one."

"No. You're wrong. He needs me. I'm his son."

"He has – Richard and the other one. The bourgeois one."

"Drake." Damian supplied. "But I am Robin. Not them. And he needs Robin now – more than ever."

Talia looked at him sharply. "What do you mean by 'more than ever?'"

Damian flushed, but refused to speak.

"Damian. Tell me what you meant by that."

"Nothing, Mother." He turned away. "Nothing at all."

"Something has happened. What? What has happened?"

"It's – it's nothing."

"I will be the judge of its importance. Tell me."

A quick look to his mother, then away. "Someone – has been shooting at Father."

She looked at him for a long moment, then shrugged. "Bah. Someone is always shooting at the Batman. Unless you mean that someone has taken out a contract on his life – or yours."

Damian looked guilty for a moment, but then shook his head vehemently. "No. This – I – I don't know, really."

Talia put a manicured hand up to her neck in alarm. "Damian, have you been targeted?"

"No! No, Mother. Really."

"Do not lie to me, Damian. I am your mother. I deserve to know if you are in danger."

"Mother, I am Robin. There is danger inherent in the job."

"But is there an additional, credible threat about which you are not telling me?" At his continued silence, she went on. "I will find out. You know that I will. I would prefer that you tell me rather than my operatives."

He sighed finally. "There have been a number of – attempts on our lives." He was leery of telling his mother too much. "Someone with a high-powered rifle. I have never been hit, nor has Father."

"Well, whomever this - person is who is shooting at you is not a very good shot, then."

"Apparently not. Although Grayson was hit in the shoulder and was also knocked unconscious by the gun – woman."

Talia's brows shot up. "Woman? How – singular. A female assassin – and an inefficient one at that."

"Yes."

"I am uncomfortable with this, Darling. What if you father cannot protect you? What if you are hit accidentally? What if you are indeed the target, and this – assassin – has merely been unlucky?"

"Father and I are trying to get to the bottom of this, Mother. Have no fear."

"But I do have fear. How can I not? You are my only son. My beloved only child."

"I am quite safe, I assure you."

"Forgive me, Darling, but I need more than your assurances. I would feel better if you were out of harm's way entirely. I can protect you."

"Father can protect me. I can protect myself."

She shook her head. "I think it best if you stay with me – at least until your father uncovers whomever is plotting against him."

Damian shook his head vehemently. "No, Mother. I told you. Father needs me."

"And I need your safety."

"I am going back with him to Gotham, Mother. You cannot sway me. To try is futile. And, should you attempt to keep me from going, I will escape, and I shall never forgive you."

"But, Damian, don't you want to stay with me?"

"Father needs me. At this moment, that is paramount. I hope you understand."

She drew in a deep breath. "Very well."

Damian gave a small smile. "Thank you, Mother."

She smiled in return. "I will miss you."

"I will miss you, too."

She looked at him for a long moment. "Would you like to – play a game, now, Darling? That – card game, perhaps? I believe you called it.'Go Angling.'"

Damian nodded enthusiastically. "Go Fish. Yes, I'd like that. I'll go get a deck of cards."

"Of course, Darling. I will be waiting."

She watched him as he ran from the room, and her eyes narrowed in thought.

She silently picked up her phone and called a number very familiar to her.

Once the call was answered, she wasted no time on niceties. "We must get my son away from those people. They have corrupted him."


Gotham City

That Night

December 8th

"God! I hate this!" Dick pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. He had been studying for several hours, all alone in the manor, with only Titus for company, and he was tired. He was tired of reading about the history of computing, and tired of worrying about the computer program that he hadn't written yet. Tired of his classes, and tired of only getting a few hours sleep because he had to leave Devon's room almost every night and drive back to the Manor or back to his apartment. He wanted to go to sleep with her and wake up with her, and he had no way of pulling that off.

He looked at his phone. It was 9:30. Maybe he could go see her now.

But she was studying, and he had promised Bruce that he would let her do that, and that he would study, as well. And he had already broken that promise once this week.

But it's Saturday night, he rationalized. No one studies on Saturday nights.

The weekend before finals they do, he corrected himself.

Maybe he could just – call her – as Dick, of course, and chat for a little bit. She hadn't told him to leave her alone in a while. She might not mind. After all, he still had to apologize for the drunken phone call on his birthday. After all, it was the least that he could do.

He pulled up her contact and called her, and she answered after the third ring.

"Hello?" She asked, although he was pretty certain that she knew who it was.

"Um, hey, uh, Devon." He squeezed his eyes shut at how pathetic he sounded.

"Dick? Hi." She sounded unsure.

"Hey. You, uh, studying?"

"Oh, yeah. You?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Studying." Oh my God, Dick, are you a ten year-old? Can't you talk to her like a normal human being, and not an idiot? "You?" Shit! You already asked her that!

She gave a small laugh. "Yep. Studying. Got all my finals on Monday and Tuesday, believe it or not."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. Tell me. How about you?"

He thought for a moment. "One on Monday, one on Tuesday, and two on Wednesday. One of my computer classes has a program due rather than a test, and that's due on Thursday." He pondered, belatedly, her words. "Seriously, you have five tests in two days?"

"My luck, huh?"

"Well, at least you'll start your vacation sooner."

"Yeah. I guess. Cold comfort."

"I can – imagine." He was silent, nodding at her words, trying to think of something to say to keep the conversation going. "So. You doing anything fun over the break?"

She gave another short laugh. "Well, the diner's closed on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so I'm planning on going ice skating."

"Oh." Stupid, stupid! What did you think? That she was going to go skiing in Aspen? Or to Vienna to spend the holidays? "That sounds like fun."

"I hope so. What about you? Got any big plans?"

Bruce frequently took them down to his house in Palm Beach for the holidays, although they had not discussed it yet this year. Tim, of course, wouldn't be spending much of the break with them, being on academic probation at Princeton. "Uh. We might go down to Florida – don't really know yet."

"Oh, right. Bruce Wayne has a vacation house down there, doesn't he? And probably one in the Caymans, too. Or maybe you'll go to a chateau in the Alps."

Shit. She knows.

He gave a sigh and rubbed his forehead. "How did you find out?"

"Let's just say that the Wayne family does not keep a low profile on the internet."

"Devon, I'm sorry." He apologized, even though he didn't know why he should.

"You know, Dick, it is totally your business, and not mine, but you pretty much know all about my life, and I had to find out about yours on Google."

Now he knew why he felt the need to apologize. Because he had been hiding it. He hadn't wanted her to judge him by his family. He wanted her to like him for him. Maybe he should tell her that. "Look, Devon. I'm sorry. You're right. I was – hiding it. I just wanted you to see Dick, not Bruce Wayne's kid."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence. So you think I'd just like you for your money, huh? A gold digger?"

"Shit. This is not going well." He ran his hand through his hair wearily.

"You think?"

"Look, before Bruce adopted me, I was poor. And when I say poor, I mean poor. I didn't mind it – or even know it. But I had – a good life. And then my parents died, and suddenly, I had less than that – I had nothing. And I went into foster care for a little while. It wasn't a long time, but long enough that I knew what it was like not to have friends, and not to have family. And then Bruce adopted me, and I – did. Have family, I mean. And then I started school, and I had friends. Lots of friends. But then – then I found out that a large percentage of those friends only liked me because my dad was Bruce Wayne. So, I just – wanted – to be me with you. Not Bruce Wayne's kid."

She was silent for a long moment. "I just feel – like...I don't know. Like you've been hiding the real you."

You have no idea, he thought to himself. "I know. I – I don't know how else to tell you that I'm sorry."

He could hear her sigh. "I guess that it doesn't matter anyway. It's not like you owe me anything."

Dick decided to plunge in – no matter the consequences. "Devon. I like you. You must know that. I like you a lot. As my visits to the diner probably illustrated. And my drunken phone call. Sorry for that, by the way."

"Dick..."

"Just tell me. Please. Is there any chance for us? Any at all?" What are you saying, Dick? What the hell are you asking her? You're sleeping with her already! Are you trying to get her to cheat on you – with you?

"I – I – look, I really have to go. I have a lot of studying to do. I – I'll talk to you – soon, I guess."

She ended the call, and Dick smiled. Well, she hadn't told him no, after all.


Devon put down the phone and gave a deep sigh. What had possessed her to call Dick out on his secret? She had already decided not to say anything, and then she had gone ahead and dogged him on it! And, even though she had been mad, she almost understood his reasons for not telling her. People probably treated him differently when they found out he was a member of one of the richest families in America. And not just a member, but the oldest child and heir.

But why hadn't she told him 'no' when he asked if there was a chance for them? What had she been thinking? She was with Nightwing, for crying out loud! And she was in love with Nightwing.

So why hadn't she told Dick that there was no future for them? Why had she told him that she would talk to him soon? What sort of a game was she playing with him?

Possibly a very dangerous one.

She shook her head. "Idiot."


Brussels, Belgium

The Next Day

December 9th

Damian drummed on the arm rest of the back seat of the limousine as the car pulled into the underground garage of the Rocco Forte Hotel in Brussels.

Talia took his hand affectionately and smiled at him, although it killed her to return him to Bruce. She regretted the impulse that had originally prompted her to deliver Damian to his father, and she now wished it undone. Damian was her son more than he would ever be Bruce's. He was an Al Ghul first and foremost, and belonged with her, in the world that she controlled; in the world that her father had built.

"So you shall come to visit me at the new year." She said. It was a statement rather than a question.

"Yes, if you would like. And if the sniper has been identified and dealt with."

"Of course. Of course. And I shall come to Gotham for your recital. December twenty-eighth, I believe you said."

"Yes." He nodded. "I would like that above all else. The three of us together."

She smiled and nodded. "As would I."

Alfred stood by the elevator, and, as the limousine stopped next to him, he smiled.

Ubu sprang from the front seat of the car to open the door, and, as Damian and Talia climbed from the car, Alfred gave a small dip of his head. "Master Damian, Miss Al Ghul."

"Pennyworth." Damian greeted him.

"Did you enjoy your sojourn, Master Damian?"

"Yes. Where is my father?"

"Upstairs, awaiting you."

"I shall accompany my son. Your master and I have much to discuss."

"Of course, Miss Al Ghul. If you would follow me." He took one of Damian's suitcases from Ubu, and the four of them rode up in the elevator to the top floor of the hotel, where the most exclusive suites were located.

Alfred used a pass key to open the door, and Damian rushed through.

"Father! Father! I'm back."

Bruce, who had been sitting at the desk looking at his computer, smiled briefly when he saw his son. "Damian. I'm glad to see you. Did you have fun?" He stood and welcomed a hug from his son.

"Yes. We went fishing, and swimming, and played board games. And card games."

"That's wonderful." His eyes flickered upwards, and his smile disappeared when he saw Talia. "Talia. I didn't know you were coming up."

She gave her former lover a tight smile. "I was hoping to speak with you." She looked pointedly at Alfred. "In private."

Although one of his brows raised, he nodded.

Talia turned to Damian with a smile. "Darling, let Ubu take you down to the dining room for a bite to eat while I speak with your father."

Damian looked between his two parents suspiciously. "Father?"

"Alfred will go with you." Bruce looked at his manservant

Alfred inclined his head. "Yes, Master Damian. I understand that the restaurant has very tasty mac and cheese."

"I want to stay." Damian thrust his jaw out belligerently at his parents. "You are going to talk about me, and I deserve to be here."

Talia smiled. "Dearest, I just want to talk to your father about our plans."

"But..."

"Damian. Listen to your mother, please." Bruce ordered.

Their son glared at them for a moment, then, dropping his eyes, nodded. He left the room, followed by Alfred and Ubu, who kept a safe distance from each other.

Bruce turned to Talia expectantly, and she did not disappoint him. "I will not prevaricate. Damian has told me that there have been several organized attempts on your lives."

Bruce drew in a deep breath. "I see."

"I see? Is that all that you have to say? My son's life has been threatened, and all you can say is 'I see?'"

"What would you like me to say, Talia? He is as safe as I can make him."

"That is not enough."

"What do you suggest that I do?" He demanded.

"Allow me to protect him."

Bruce's eyes narrowed. "How will you protect him?"

"By taking him home with me."

Bruce shook his head. "Absolutely not."

She arched an elegant brow. "He is my son, too."

"You dropped him off on my doorstep two years ago for me to raise. Which I have been doing, and which I will continue to do."

"I can protect him."

"So can I."

"This is not up for negotiation."

"That's right. It's not. He is coming home with me to Gotham."

"I will not allow you to take him."

'And how exactly do you propose to stop me? Kill me?"

Talia's face reddened. "Don't be ridiculous. I could no more hurt you than I could hurt Damian."

"Then you will allow me to take him with me." At her compressed lips, he sighed. "Talia, he is happy there. His life is – as normal as I can make it. As normal as our son can ever have. He has Alfred and Dick – and I bought him a dog. It is what's best for him, Talia."

She shook her head. "He is my son, and I know what's best for him."

"He's my son, too." He said, echoing her earlier words.

Her face reddened. "So you refuse to allow him to come with me?"

"Talia. He needs you in his life, but he does not need to live as an Al Ghul."

"What is wrong with living as an Al Ghul?"

"You brought him to me so that he could have a more normal life. Don't wrench him away from it."

She was silent, and Bruce continued. "Maybe you can – see him more often."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "In the new year. For three weeks."

"Fine."

"And I come to his recital."

Bruce raised a brow. "He told you about that."

"Should he not have? I am his mother, after all."

"Yes. You are. I won't forget that, Talia. And neither will he."

She appeared mollified. "You will protect him, Bruce."

"Yes. I will."

"If you cannot, I will."


As Talia drove off, after kissing Damian good-bye and promising to see him after Christmas, she pulled out her phone and called someone.

She spoke without preamble. "I don't care what you have to do. I want my son back."


Author's Note: Here is another chapter in my endeavor to rehabilitate Talia's reputation. She loves her son, no matter what Batman, Inc. says. And Devon admitted to Dick that she knows his secret - well, one of them, at least.