I think this is now officially the longest thing I've ever written. Don't expect me to do it again. Like, ever.

Still not Marvel. Thank you for the attention.

TapTap

"It's not the same shade as your eyes - it simply won't do!" Clint sounded entirely serious, all up until the point where he had to duck.

"That's not a thing with bloody red, and you know it!" Bucky scoffed at him, but the blow he aimed at the archer's head was playful.

Bruce looked up from his tablet, chuckling. "What exactly are we doing, again?" They were all in the communal living room, a bunch of suits and gala dresses scattered across one sofa, Bruce sitting on the other.

"Helping Claire dress for her date! Clint uttered innocently, though no one bought it for a moment.

Claire gave him a look. "We're picking out clothes for the charity gala. And I am not going with Wayne, I am taking dad. Or the other way around. Or something. We're going together, like we always do. Almost."

"Does that mean you're going home with Wayne?" Bruce asked insightfully, getting a wicked grin in response.

"Maybe... and all I have in the wardrobe in Gotham is left-behind Chanel dresses. Also a Valentino piece or two... and too many shoes. I really need to bring some normal everyday clothes with me at some point." Claire frowned slightly, though she didn't seem seriously concerned about it.

"You don't want to, you like stealing his shirts," Steve was reading a physical newspaper over on the far end of Bruce's sofa, and before he spoke no one would have thought he paid them any attention. Except for experience, of course.

"Well, the two are not mutually exclusive. I could bring pyjama bottoms and some more comfy socks, and still steal his shirts," Claire pointed out to general giggling. Superheroes in general giggled quite a lot more than anyone who didn't live with any would dare believe.

Clint snorted, perching on top of the back of the sofa which was covered in clothes. "Didn't Wayne ask you to join him? He doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who'd neglect to." Out of all of them, Clint had perhaps the most normal experiences and thus views on relationships.

"Oh, he did. He always does. But you know - I'm a Stark and we don't go home with the same people we came with!" Claire winked at him, then laughed. She looked happy and carefree, going over the pile of clothes apparently for inspiration.

"Are you actually serious about that saying? I mean..." Bucky shrugged, certain she'd follow his thinking without any more words.

"No, I mean, not really. Sometimes I wonder if he thinks so, but it is just a principle. And there'll be a day when I go to all parties with him, and come back home with him too. I'll officially be a one man kind of a woman and I'll be proud of it. I know that, and I want to, I mean for it to happen, but it's not this day, is all."

"I'm glad you've got an actual reason and are not just being casually stubborn for the sake of it," Bruce's voice was dry, though still warm. He wasn't even looking up this time, doubtlessly capable of reading whatever advanced scientific piece he was, and still participate in their lazy approach to chores at the same time. " Not that I truly believe that you aren't. You're far too alike Tony sometimes."

"It's tradition!" Claire insisted, but she was laughing. "And me and dad are delightful."

This time, Bruce looked up to meet her eyes, a small smile on his lips. "I know. You'll never hear me say anything different."

"Well," Steve's voice came right after their moment. "I'd rather have her stubborn." All eyes went to him at this statement, and he looked back calmly over the edge of his newspaper. "At least this way she can't be bullied into something, silly principles or not. Wayne's used to get his own way, I dare say, and while I don't see him as a bully, I could imagine it happening if she was the type to give in too easily."

Clint nodded slowly, as did Bucky. It was the archer who, after several moments of silent reflection, spoke. "I prefer it." He paused, then admitted, "From what we know of him, I bet he does too." This was a major admission, and Claire smiled, appreciating everything that they said, and what they meant with every word.


Gotham was misty. Claire had noticed as much at her second visit, the first having been on a day with uncharacteristic sunshine.

So when she woke up as late as could be expected after a big party and a flight on a private plan, she did so on her own, undisturbed by too bright sunlight.

She came down the stairs dressed in pyjama bottoms she hadn't, in fact packed, but which had found their way there anyway, and one of Wayne's soft non-formal shirts. Two years ago she would have been curious about how articles of her clothing could move to another state, but at this point she just assumed geniuses or superheroes or Pepper meddled, possibly prompted by Jarvis.

She had given up on surprise a long time ago, and judging by the scene greeting her at the foot of the stairs, that was probably just as well. She was not the only one so affected, either, as Alfred was expertly capturing a stray bat without even making a facial expression. She assumed it had happened before, probably hundreds of times if his skill at the task was to be judged by.

"Ah, Miss Thomas," the butler remarked in a casually polite tone, bat safely in a little carrier where it hung from something and wrapped its wings around itself as if it, too, had done this before. "Mr Wayne is in his study, but you are welcome to join him. Would you like some breakfast?"

"That's alright, Alfred, I have some papers of my own to find. I swear I never sketch as many schematics anywhere else... I'll take you up on breakfast, though."


"Alfred tells me it's lunchtime." Wayne stood in the open door to the morning office near his bedroom that he seldom used, but happily lent to Claire when she wanted it. Much to her own amusement, she got wired after sex, and she had a tendency to work on her patented green energy solutions at such times.

"Hi!" Claire looked up from her spot in the deep, cushioned windowsill. She was reading, he noted. It looked like a novel.

"Anything interesting?" He questioned with a nod towards the book, coming over to kiss her head.

"Alice in Wonderland. The one your mother bought you when you turned seven - I found it in the bookcase. I assumed you wouldn't mind...?" Her voice tapered off at the end, making it a question.

"Not in the least. Alfred also says you were looking of your papers. You found them all? They should be in the drawer, I never touch them. Oh and I see you got your bag. Happy dropped by with that at the aircraft, so Alfred brought it in."

"I forgot my bag," Claire laughed, letting him drag her up onto her feet, "and I didn't finish packing it. I'd normally suspect Steve, when it comes to moving things for me, but he wouldn't ever touch my things."

"Natasha or Pepper, maybe?" Wayne suggested, linking their hands as they moved away from the window towards the hall.

"Yes, none of the guys, not when it wasn't packed and closed. Probably Pepper, she nests when she's pregnant, strange as that sounds."

"Not really, actually. But maybe I'm just willing to forgive a pregnant woman anything, in a sort of male inability to understand the magic," Wayne admitted easily, stroking his free hand over the balustrade as they went through the house. He did so a lot - he loved his home almost as if it was a sentient being. Claire could relate - the house had soul.

"Well, at least you're man enough to admit it," her tone held humour, but also affection for the man she loved. It grew thoughtful however, when she moved onto a subject she'd been pondering as she'd sorted her papers.

"The company lawyers at SI cannot grasp the concept of family, so they don't understand why you and Tony are splitting the contracts to my energy scheme. They were discussing rights, and they didn't like that those papers were here. I..."

"My lawyers would be exited to know it," Wayne agreed measuredly. "It would give WI legal claims that we were involved in the process, possibly. I cannot say that I've asked them. They don't know they're here, and even if they did it's my house. And my company, at that."

"I should move them, then. Technically." She trusted him to be honest with her, taking his advice like she would Tony or Bruce's. Or Pepper's.

"Legally speaking, yes, you should. But Claire..." he turned his head, looking at her for a second until she met his eyes. "You don't need to. If we're talking about money, or influence, or whatever legal game the lawyers would play, sure. But we are more important than all of that. I care about us more than all of those things. So you leave your papers here, if you're comfortable with it. I know you're not ready to leave the Tower, and I'm fine with that, but it doesn't make any difference. This is your home, too, whenever you need it to be, and anything you leave with me is safe here. That's a promise."

Claire looked at him, serious and committed and wonderful, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. They weren't late for lunch, but only because Albert had his own, very special kind of superpowers.