"'What's easy is right,' my mother's advice

You are the reason I never think twice

Wherever we go, what glitters is gold

You'll be my best friend until we grow old…

This is how you fall in love

Let go and I'll hold you up

So pull me tight and close your eyes

Oh, my love, side to side"

~ Jeremy Zucker, Chelsea Cutler, "this is how you fall in love"

Chapter 40: If You Let Me

"Hey, Fairchild."

Georgia, the team's goalie, skated over to catch Jess's attention. Her eyes were bright from behind the wires of her helmet as she asked, "So who's Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome?"

"Huh?"

The other teen jerked her chin in the direction behind Jess. Turning, the brunette looked past her teammates on the ice to see Damian across the rink and on the other side of the tempered glass. He was wearing his black puffer jacket with a gray sweater underneath, arms crossed and eyes scanning the scene with an analytical and stoic look on his face. A few parents and siblings were also waiting in the arena seats, but he in particular stood out like a sore thumb among the team's spectators.

"I've only seen him a few times after practice or games," Georgia went on, skating to a stop next to her, "so I was just curious if he's your boyfriend or something."

Jess didn't answer right away. Damian's gaze had landed on her, brightening a little as he lifted a hand to give her a little wave. Biting back her smile and gesturing back, she looked to see her teammate staring at her with intrigue.

It seemed weird to think of him as her "boyfriend." Something about the word didn't feel right, not when it came to the green-eyed and mature enigma that was Damian Wayne.

Part of her started wondering what had prompted him to come into the arena; normally, he waited outside in his car, and when it came to games, he and Misty would be in the lobby. Now that he had gone in to join the others awaiting practice to be over, of course someone was bound to notice him when there wasn't a crowd of sports fans and supporters.

Georgia was still waiting for a response, a sort of knowing grin forming beneath her helmet. Jess quickly smiled at her and replied, "Yeah, he is."

"Ha! I knew it. You just won me twenty bucks."

"You made a bet with someone?"

"Brianna said he was probably just your friend," the other teen laughed. "I told her there was no way you could just be friends with a guy who looks like that."

She caught the look Jess gave her and added, "I'm joking! That's shallow, I know… But hey, that's cool! You should have him come to our after-parties."

Glancing over at Damian again, who was still watching her — good thing he wouldn't see if her face was turning pink from this far — Jess responded, "Ehh, he's not exactly a social creature. But I'll see if he's up for it."

That was definitely true and not just an excuse to keep him away from a restaurant table or teammate's house full of young women and teenagers. If she'd wanted to, she could come up with something else.

Their coach's yell had them scrambling back to finish their exercise, but soon enough, practice was called to a finish and Jess skated over to Damian as quickly as she could.

"Hi. You got here early," she greeted him breathlessly, grinning at him as she pulled off her helmet.

"Am I ever on time?" Damian countered with a raised brow from the other side of the scratched glass.

Jess blew strands of hair from her face that had escaped her braid. "Touché."

"You and your friend were talking about me."

"We were that obvious, huh?"

"She hardly made an effort to not look like she was staring between the two of us."

She chuckled and looked back to where the other players were filing one by one out of the rink. Georgia's jersey could be seen disappearing in the direction of the lockers, right after Brianna's.

"You lost her a bet, actually."

"Did I?"

"She bet Brianna that you're my boyfriend and not just a friend."

"Depending on when exactly they made this bet, Brianna might be correct."

"That's true," Jess mused before looking back at him. "But I don't care about that 'cause either way, I'm pretty sure I'm the real winner here."

Damian shot her an unamused expression, though she could tell he was attempting to conceal a smirk or something like it at her little flirtatious joke. Tossing him a cheesy wink, she skated backwards and away from him in an effortless S-shape before exiting the rink. It wasn't until later when she met with him again in the lobby that he revisited the topic about him and the word "boyfriend."

His emerald eyes twinkled down at her as he swung her gear bag over his shoulder. "So you told this Georgia that I am your boyfriend."

Jess snorted. "I mean, yes, but... I dunno, it seems weird putting you and 'boyfriend' in the same sentence, like it's too childish or informal. And there's nothing childish or informal about you."

"What else would you call me? Your lover?"

The faint, smug look had her rolling her eyes (mostly in an attempt to hide the warmth flushing her skin).

"I am not going to tell people that, Dami. That's even weirder."

"What then?"

With a shrug, Jess stopped to run her fingers through his soft hair. "I suppose 'boyfriend' would suffice, but at the end of the day, as long as it begins with 'my,' that's all that matters to me."

Damian assented, "And I am yours" and then bent down to kiss her forehead.

In spite of sweet moments like this, the more she thought about it, the more nervous she became about treading this new territory with him… so she tried not to think about it. But trying not to think about it led to more thoughts about it, leaving Jess with no choice but to face those fears nagging her.

Because she'd always known the idea of becoming more than friends was terrifying and that it brought up a plethora of questions she had no answers for.

"And if I want to be yours?"

It wasn't that she didn't mean these words because she had. She wanted to be his. What scared her were the responsibilities behind them, the promises that came with being someone else's. They were already great as friends, but neither of them had any clue if the same could be said about them as partners, as lovers. They might know each other's habits and favorite food, but were they prepared to argue over a funny look or misinterpreted words? Jess saw the way other young women and teenagers stared at him in public; would she manage to feel secure or get those inklings of jealousy and protectiveness each time they approached him?

The whole ride had felt like hitting the ground running or diving right into the deep end. She'd been going all-in, high on the thrill of exchanging flirtatious eyes and kisses when no one was looking. The prospect of becoming more than best friends was both terrifying and exciting. Damian had eyes for her? Now, things were slowing down or, at the least, she was starting to pay attention to what was happening around her. Their friendship was on the brink of something new, and there wouldn't be any going back. Jess knew that much.

"If we're going to do this, I need you to know something."

From where she sat on the couch in the library, she closed the small workbook Damian had given her to continue learning Arabic. She'd probably been watching him from over the pages for a few minutes now, contemplating and debating. (And then his profile as he read his own book became a distraction, and the teen fought the urge to touch the few strands of black hair that stuck out of place over his forehead. How was it possible that also the simplest details like this looked so good on him?)

He glanced up, analyzing her for a moment. "What are you referring to?"

Jess took her time shifting to face him, pulling her knees up to her chest. The flames licking the inside of the fireplace reflected against their surroundings, on their skin and in their eyes.

"I'm scared."

They were only two words, but she could see the immediate change in his eyes, so she went on. "After what happened with..."

God, she couldn't even say his name, but his cold, gray-blue eyes were rising from memories she'd tried to bury and forget.

Jess forced herself to take a deep breath to alleviate the discomfort in her chest. "After Kade, I don't want to make that mistake again, especially with you, Damian. You're my best friend… I don't…"

I don't want to lose that.

The implication hung between them, and maybe it was just her, but it felt heavy — almost precarious.

Damian wasn't looking at her now. His eyes were trained on the fire, but nothing about his body language suggested he was upset or anything like it. He might've been choosing his words carefully.

If he was going to respond because naturally, each passing, silent moment made her anxious. Noticing that she was twisting her ring again, Jess pulled her sleeves over her hands.

"I understand," he then answered in a slow, careful voice. "I myself have been... hesitant, too. But, Jessica..."

She looked up to see that he had turned towards her, his eyes filled with something so intense she almost glanced away.

Damian continued, "I've realized that my desire to care for you in ways I cannot do as a friend is much stronger than my fears."

His hand extended towards her, and she automatically placed her own in it. "And I can assure you I will never hurt you the way he did. I swear it," he finished softly.

It should've made her feel better. It should've sent relief washing over troubled nerves like cool water soothing a burn… But Jess would've been lying to herself (and him) if she believed it did. She wanted his promise to mean something, to lock away any and all possibilities that they'd hurt each other in ways she worried about. Except the teen knew she wasn't the only person on this planet who doubted it was likely to have that much control. Did it really make sense for him to be saying these things to her? As much as she knew he meant what he said and would go to the ends of the earth to keep true to them...

"Do you think it's a good idea to be making promises like that? Because if that's the case, I would want us to promise we'd still be friends if this didn't work out, that there wouldn't be hard feelings. It'd be nice to promise that we wouldn't regret trying to be more.

"But we can't promise each other that, Damian... not if someone gets hurt."

His thumb ran gently over the back of her hand, the only thing providing some sort of comfort. Slight wrinkles had arisen between his brows, and she couldn't blame him for whatever concern he might have felt. Everything she was saying rang with negativity and hesitation, and if she didn't know any better, Jess would almost wonder if she even did want their relationship to progress.

"It's not that I think you'll treat me the way he did... or that I don't believe you or trust you because I do," Jess continued. "It's that… I believed and trusted him, too.

Her voice fell to a near whisper. "So don't say or do anything unless you honestly mean it."

The words felt a lot heavier leaving her mouth than they'd seemed when they had been in her head. Discomfort stewed in her chest as she watched him look away, his fingers tightening on hers for the briefest of moments. Part of her felt awful for saying such discouraging, heartbreaking things, but Jess knew they needed to be said. In fact, she hadn't known they were even on her mind until now, yet they held more truth and weight than anything she'd confessed so far.

Way to ruin it.

"I'm sorry," she told him softly, finding herself looking to the fire, the shelves, anywhere but at him. "You, of all people, want to be with me, but here I am, giving you all these reasons not to." Slight pressure was building behind her eyes as she added, "I'm just, um, really afraid you'll drown in all this… baggage."

Because I know I do.

"'Cause your baggage is too much to carry, do you get that? You're exhausting."

Kade's harsh voice from that day cut through what little resilience and strength she was trying so hard to hold onto. As soon as she moved to pull her hand from his, Damian's grasp tightened and she heard him say her name. Swallowing hard, Jess faced him, desperately willing the stinging in her eyes to go away.

He was fixing her with a gaze hardened with resolve and earnestness. "I do not have all the answers… but what I do know is I want you, Jessica, every part of you."

Her gaze wandered, but he was quick to move closer and reach for her chin, locking eyes with her again. "Whatever nonsense that imbecile fed you about yourself, they are lies. You are not 'clingy,' 'exhausting,' or some mere reduction to erotic desires.

"I will carry this weight of yours as I always have, as you have for me."

It was taking every fiber of her being to fight the tears building, but his next words made it impossible.

"And I will continue to carry it and more… if you let me."

As soft as his voice and gaze were, the sentiment was more than enough to break her withering resolve. She could only nod while his hands made their way to her wet face, bringing her forehead to his lips. Jess shut her eyes and allowed the silent tears to fall, knowing there was no room for judgment or misunderstanding. There was only an overwhelming warmth filling her, easing the pain, negativity, and anxiety that constantly lived there. Within moments, her body fit into his like it had several times before, in the way it was meant to, with her head on his shoulder and his arms around her.

Of all the things she loved, cherished, and held dear in her heart, Jess knew there was room for one more — and the reserved spot had his name written all over it.

He felt her presence before he saw her.

Turning away from the sink after drying his hands, Damian saw Jess standing near the fresh batch of cupcakes they'd both finished icing minutes ago. The mischievous glint in her eye coupled with her hands behind her back were a clear but deadly combination that told him she was up to no good.

Her name, laced with a warning tone, barely left his lips when she made a break for the kitchen doorway. He rolled his eyes but wasted no time going after her and out into the hall. If it wasn't for her figure disappearing into one of the guest rooms, her receding laughter would have been all he needed to find her.

She was at the opposite end of the room, the queen-sized bed a large obstacle between them. Her grin reflected the childish entertainment in her eyes as she held the half-eaten cupcake in one hand.

"Jessica..."

The snicker she gave was childish albeit endearing. How could he be remotely annoyed by her kitchen thievery? His demand to leave the desserts alone earlier hadn't been all that serious anyway.

"Sorry," Jess told him, sounding far from apologetic. "I couldn't help it. I thought I'd be able to grab it without you seeing me."

He could easily make it across the room and over the bed to her, but she wasn't a culprit to be apprehended (if not for freshly-baked goods in the Wayne manor) nor did Damian actually see any issue with it. As silly as her trick seemed, she was teasing him and having a good time doing so. All he cared about was playing along — especially if it meant seeing her smile and laugh the way she was.

So he'd humor her.

"Just let me finish it before you come for me—"

By the time he made it around the bed, Jess was scrambling to climb over it and roll to the other side. His hand whipped out and snatched her ankle, earning a little yelp of laughter from her. Almost instantly, he had her dragged towards him and on her back, both wrists held down.

They were separated by less than a foot as he steadied himself on his knees. The last of Jess's giggles were leaving her, and it was almost an honor to watch her eyes alight beneath him. Her chest was rising and falling as her breaths slowed; calmness swept over her while they stared at one another.

Her head turned to where the cupcake had fallen from her hand. "Aw man, look at what you did. The icing is all over the bed now."

Damian didn't care, and he didn't look to see what she meant. His gaze was roaming over her nose, soft cheeks, jaw, and the spot of vanilla icing at the corner of her mouth as he battled a familiar urge.

"If you're gonna hold me down," she said quietly, "you might as well kiss me."

A simmering warmth erupted in his abdomen, spreading throughout his body like wildfire. It matched the look in her eyes.

"You do realize you have icing on your mouth like a six-year-old?"

"Well, my hands are kind of, you know, tied." Jess glanced over at where he had her wrists pinned against the comforter. "I can't do anything about it, but… you can."

"You can't lick it off yourse—?"

"Oh, but where's the fun in me doing it?"

When he didn't respond upon realizing what she was suggesting, her reaction was to tantalize him. "What? Afraid you wouldn't be able to keep from kissing me?"

The impish grin stirred the desire rising in his chest, in turn provoking the eagerness he felt at her challenge.

"I believe it is you who would be unable to exercise self-control."

Little did she know that his perfected temperance combined with a desire to tease her (and competitiveness, of course) would most certainly result in him proving her wrong. Did she think he wouldn't try his hardest to make her cave? Not only would he win this silly test but he would also get her to kiss him.

The odds were in Damian's favor.

He took his time bending down and lightly running the tip of his tongue against the spot where the icing stuck. The tension in Jess's body beneath him was palpable; he was sure he'd heard her suck in a breath. Lifting his head to confirm that it was gone, he saw that she appeared to be holding her breath while meeting his gaze with dilated eyes.

Damian leaned for her again and watched as she lifted her face in response — the exact reaction he'd expected — yet he paused just before their mouths met. She made an attempt to meet his lips, which he wickedly avoided, and the irritated huff she gave only fed his ego. Relaxing back into the bed, Jess allowed him to brush his nose against hers; it was absolute torment, the way they exchanged such featherlight, taunting motions back and forth. (Though he knew it was much more so for her. The thought nearly had him smirking to himself.)

"You really wanna make me give in, don't you?"

"Your body language tells me you already have."

Damian released her wrists and straightened from the bed. Turning for the door, he began, "I'll find a washcloth to clean—"

One moment, her hand was closing around his forearm, and the next, he was on his back with Jess straddling him. Admittedly, the former assassin was startled at how quickly it had happened, yet he could hardly say he minded. Their traded positions merely deepened the powerful need in his gut, particularly because she was sitting on him...

"Are you going to make a habit of pulling me down at your leisure?"

First the snowbank, now a bed.

"Not if you tell me not to," Jess murmured as she swept her nose over his.

His hands wandered to her hips, and he wished, momentarily, that the fabric of her pants was not separating his fingertips from her skin.

Damian couldn't help a sly smile. "I'll tell you no such thing."

"I was hoping you wouldn't," she replied, mirroring his grin before pressing her lips against his.

"Are you in big trouble for stealing from the kitchen?" Dick asked from where he sat at the dining table after the two entered minutes later.

Jason was the only one still cleaning up the remains of his dinner, the other siblings chattering around their dirty plates and half-finished glasses of champagne.

He could tell Jess was attempting to suppress her grin (and avoiding looking over at him). "Nope."

"Totally saw that coming," Stephanie chimed in as Alfred passed through from the kitchen.

"Sorry, Alfred," Jess said with an eye roll. "There's a little bit of a mess on the bed in that first guest room, no thanks to Damian. I already cleaned it up, but should I toss the comforter in the washer?"

The immediate silence was almost disorienting, disturbed for a moment by Jason's knife scraping against his plate — and then he too was joining the entire room in staring at Jess.

Her hazel eyes widened after a painfully-long moment that Damian couldn't find an appropriate way to break.

"Icing!" she sputtered in undisguised panic. "Oh my god, I meant icing... from the—from the cupcake I took. He chased me into the room, and I dropped it—"

"You probably should've mentioned that in the beginning," Tim offered to her, a kind but amused smile tugging at his mouth.

"Sounds like you need to watch where you leave your icing, Little D."

The thwack from Dick's rolled-up magazine against the back of Jason's neck was audible over Stephanie's snort. He rubbed at the spot while scowling at his older brother, who said nothing and only shook his head at him.

"I was gonna add—" Jason turned his glare from Dick to Damian with a raised brow, "—that obviously you're letting it get into the wrong hands if it's getting on beds and whatnot."

The pointed look he gave Jess only intensified the pink rising in her cheeks.

Stephanie mused, "Nice save," while Tim rolled his eyes and commented, "Lead with that next time."

"Wishful thinking, Tim," Dick was saying as he sat down at the table. "You know his mouth runs faster than his brain does."

"As much as I love being the center of attention, why are you roasting me for not thinking before I speak when Jess walked in here and painted the wrong picture—"

"Because Jess is Jess, and you're, well, you."

In the corner of Damian's eye, Alfred was sighing and slipping away to leave after telling her quietly that he'd take care of the comforter. Jess didn't appear as embarrassed as she'd been a minute ago, her intrigued gaze bouncing back and forth between the siblings while she twisted one of her rings.

"Thanks, Steph, for that incredible insight—"

"Jay, you made the situation so much more awkward—"

Damian suddenly had a headache.

He had never anticipated holding much of a "conversation" with Cassandra, in the most basic definition of the word, during her visit. They exchanged formalities and she tended to lurk with her presence, yet there was little to be said between the two of them. Her characteristic silence was hardly ever a problem to the former assassin — sometimes it was a blessing under a roof where their other siblings bickered over food and became too enthusiastic over video games. Damian had found that the family dynamic felt almost the same as it did even five years ago…

Almost.

So when the raven-haired woman approached him in the corner of the recreational room, he thought nothing of it. He assumed she was joining him where he stood by the bench press, watching as Jess and Dick attempted to outlast each other in a handstand.

These sorts of scenarios customarily took place in the Cave, but considering their company, the challenge had migrated to one of the least-treaded rooms in the manor. Alfred had wasted no time shooing everyone out of the living room the moment he detected mischievous antics and the possibility of broken furniture.

"You should know better, sir."

"I know, I know," Dick had appeased with his hands raised. "I'm sorry. We'll go to the rec room."

"My money is on Miss Fairchild."

Jess's eyes had widened in amusement and delight while the former Robin feigned hurt.

"Your faith, Alfred. Where has it gone?"

Alfred had given him a pointed look. "My faith in you remains. My faith in your endurance at your age compared to hers does not."

"Now you're calling me old?"

Dick held his handstand for approximately eighty seconds before needing to relax. Beside him on the mat, Jess came down from hers, seemingly unfazed as she proceeded to tease him.

When Cassandra spoke, Damian almost did not hear her. Too busy watching his brother, Stephanie, and Jess discuss yoga and figure skating versus acrobatics, he heard the woman's voice nearby, though it took a few seconds for the comprehension to fully unfold at the back of his brain.

"You look at her like…"

He was already put off by the apparent lag in his auditory system, so naturally, it felt more jarring as he paused and wondered if she had actually said something.

What?

Dark eyes met perturbed, green ones. The analytical though silent gaze wasn't new to Damian, but he needed her to repeat herself — and she did, likely because she saw the question forming on his mouth.

"You look at her," she began again, slowly and carefully, "like…"

Whatever word she was searching for was lost in her mind, he could tell. Her voice was quiet, too quiet to be heard by the others across the room, but fear of someone overhearing wasn't why he glanced over. His gaze landed on the brunette who appeared to be enthusiastically explaining her yoga hobby, hands gesturing at her abdomen exposed by the matching blue sports bra and leggings. He saw her absentmindedly tighten her ponytail while listening to Dick then laugh at something Kori said. Truthfully, it brought him joy, how quickly his best friend had assimilated into the family. There had been little effort on his part to ensure she was included. In fact, it was her doubt and hesitation that he'd needed to combat.

It would be easy to sit here and simply watch her from afar, memorizing how she sometimes covered her mouth in laughter, sketching the slight bump on the bridge of her nose, listening to the lilt in her excited voice or the softness when she became thoughtful.

Damian likely could have asked Cassandra to enlighten him and finish her thought, but he'd spent a few seconds too long admiring the scene. Dick was putting him on the spot now, saying some ridiculousness about push-ups with one arm. Was he challenging him? No, he was pitting him against Tim, who didn't quite look any more eager than Damian did.

"You won't do it 'cause you can't?" Jess asked slyly.

"I can do it," Dick insisted. "I just don't think I'll manage as many as they can."

"Your upper body strength might actually still be better than mine," Tim was saying from where he sat on the floor, "and considering our training has varied and—"

It was reflexive, the way many pairs of eyes flickered to him and a light layer of strain blanketed the room. He caught himself just as quickly, brushing hair from his eyes and continuing smoothly on, "I doubt I could do more than fifteen or twenty without breaking a sweat."

Damian wasn't the only one glancing at Jess in anticipation that she might have caught his brother's minor slip, but she merely shrugged.

"That's fifteen or twenty more than I could do," the teen chimed in.

The air and everyone else relaxed, yet Damian couldn't help the faint annoyance at Tim's carelessness. What he'd said may not have been obvious enough for Jess to question what "training" he'd referred to — perhaps she'd interpreted it as exercise or physical training — but it was a slip nonetheless. He wondered if Tim could feel his eyes on him.

The negligible mistake was soon forgotten as he rejoined them to take part in the absurdity their eldest brother had pinned on him. Push-ups with one arm? Against Tim? (And with Jess observing?)

Damian would best him easily.

Cassandra's unfinished thought was lost to him at this point, but not for forever.

With the extended Wayne members visiting for the holidays, it proved reasonable to plan Bruce and Selina's engagement party with the festivities. The original plan had been to host it on New Year's Eve until the couple decided they wanted to spend that evening with loved ones instead. Besides, it hardly mattered exactly what date they chose, not when the fact that Bruce Wayne, multi-billionaire (and former playboy), becoming engaged at all was what had Gotham stirring in excitement and frenzy.

The news had been kept from the public until a few weeks ago, creating a media and tabloid storm they hadn't seen since Penguin had put himself in the headlines last year due to another desperate attempt at remaining relevant in the city's criminal underworld. Bruce's name had become plastered all over the news and on magazine covers for stories riddled with some truths, some lies, the typical roundup of facts and fiction that came with being "the" Bruce Wayne. None of it was anything new, of course, but an impromptu family meeting had brought something to everyone's attention that he, frankly, had not considered until now.

But that was what a public relations team was for, wasn't it?

"They have also advised me to talk with you about Tim's return," Bruce spoke from where he sat in the chair at the Batcomputer.

The whole family was gathered around in the cave for a conversation that likely could have taken place at the dinner table, but Jess being away at a friend's was the first opportunity Bruce had taken. It wasn't that her constant presence was usually an issue (it never was); when it came to sensitive, family-oriented subjects like this, he valued the ability to have these meetings to ensure everyone was up to speed. Something about this reminded him of the days that were far behind them now, the ones where these very people would be suited up and reviewing missions and blueprints.

His fiancée's voice pulled him from his wandering thoughts.

"With all this news, we're giving the public and media not one fat bone but two," Selina chimed in.

Damian crossed his arms. "Tt. I doubt it's anything we cannot handle."

"That might be true," Bruce answered, "but we have to consider how big both of these events are, especially in the eyes of the public. As we've told you all before, this has been planned meticulously:

"Everyone will be talking about our engagement for the next several days, following the party, and then Wayne Enterprises is announcing Tim's return. Things will turn over very quickly, and between these two stories, you must remain wary of any sudden rise in attention our family might receive."

Turning to Tim, he asked, "You've finalized your talking points?"

Tim nodded, his glacier-blue eyes confident. "I've sent them over for review and should hear back soon."

"Damian?"

His youngest adopted a recognizable expression of apathy. "I have no need for a script. I'll fabricate a response if and when I'm approached."

Beside him, Tim was rolling his eyes and Dick gave the former assassin a "Come on, Damian" sort of look. Stephanie was concealing a snicker with her hand over her mouth while Cassandra looked on in amused silence. Bruce was convinced he was the least surprised in the room to have garnered such an indifferent response from him, but still, he exercised patience.

"Why would they bother seeking out my opinion on his return anyway?" Damian asked. "Does Grayson have 'talking points' as well?"

"I don't live here anymore, Little D."

"What does that matter?"

"It matters because he's less likely to have a mic shoved in his face when he's walking down the street," Tim retorted before Bruce could jump in.

Truthfully, the man couldn't disagree because Tim was not wrong. Dick was less likely to run into a hungry tabloid reporter than the other Wayne men were. Granted the younger man had better PR training and experience than his younger brother, but the twenty-year-old knew better than what he was suggesting. Damian was far from unintelligent, and he knew how to read a room when appropriate, so was he displaying resistance for the sake of always being the most difficult son?

"Tim, will you please share your talking points with Damian after the team has reviewed them so he at least has an idea?"

Bruce felt emboldened, green eyes on him but ignored them.

"Sure."

He shouldn't have had to remind Damian why it was important to have responses that were consistent with his and Tim's. Not only was it good PR strategy, but there might also be a chance people would ask questions that his son might respond to with unnecessary cynicism and petulance… And if there was anything Bruce was concerned about when it came to his sons' public images and reputations, it was Damian's characteristic brashness. That part of him could easily be instigated if someone were to imply something tasteless about Tim joining the family business and not Damian. In fact, such a suggestion in the past had evoked an irritated response from Damian, who'd felt like his "worthiness" as Bruce Wayne's blood son had been questioned.

And anyone who challenged Damian Wayne's character or dignity was sure to be put in their place.

"There's something else we should be considering that the PR team does not yet know about," Bruce suddenly said, his gaze flickering back to his youngest.

No one said anything for several moments until Selina, who'd been examining him carefully, seemed to catch on. She glanced over at Damian with a slight, knowing grin. "Damian and Jess."

His brows rose. "Jessica?"

Understanding fell across everyone in the room, prompting Damian to scan them with a confused glare. "What?" he demanded.

"She's your girlfriend now," Tim answered as if that would provide the full explanation.

"And?"

"He's saying people will probably notice," Stephanie spoke up from where she and Cassandra sat on the bench nearby.

"Especially if they're going to be paying more attention after everything else that's happening," Dick added.

Hardened, green eyes rested on Bruce, who already knew exactly what the former assassin was about to say.

"Yes, I think we can all agree that your relationship is none of the public's business," he began, looking at him pointedly, "but you know as well as I do that it's something you can expect to be asked about."

"Shall I prepare talking points then?"

The acidity in his tone was hard to miss. The entire room seemed to be watching the two Waynes and not for the first time — most certainly not the last either.

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Right. Because my personal life is not as detrimental to the family reputation as my refusal to join Wayne Enterprises can be."

"Damian…" Dick began.

He looked like he wanted to say more, but Damian only clenched his jaw and turned on his heel, rigidity in his figure as he returned to the manor. The tension he left behind was broken by Stephanie's sarcastic "Well, I think that went well," but Bruce only let out a sigh before reaching to pinch the bridge of his nose. He felt Selina's hand rubbing his shoulder with reassurance.

Dick was approaching with an embarrassed sort of smile. "You don't think he's actually still bitter about that, do you?"

"Maybe he's just projecting," Tim suggested.

"Yeah, but projecting what exactly?"

"It doesn't matter." Bruce waved a hand and stood from his chair. "I think he simply doesn't enjoy the idea of anyone airing out his business, particularly when it involves Jess."

Tim grumbled, "That and he really doesn't like being told what to do."

Reaching to shove his shoulder, Dick offered, "I'll talk to him. I've been meaning to before we leave anyway."

The oldest Wayne gave him a genuine smile. "It wouldn't be a visit from you if you didn't."

"There is something you should know before the engagement party tomorrow night."

Jess glanced up from her breakfast at the kitchen island to see Damian moving to sit beside her. He was dressed casually in a t-shirt and sweats, his deodorant and cologne lingering faintly in the air as he shifted closer.

Setting her coffee mug down, she asked, "Maa?" which was "What?" in Arabic.

The corner of his mouth lifted while he reached to take her hand in his. "I told you about my father's engagement and Timothy's return stirring up noise in the news," he began. At her nod, he continued, "There is a third thing that I've been notified might draw eyes as well."

Jess remained silent, eyeing the serious look he wore.

"Us."

"Us?" she echoed.

"Us," Damian repeated. "The public will already be watching my family due to these announcements, and that means it's likely you and I might attract unwanted attention… I suppose you could consider it a part of the Wayne 'baggage,' as you say."

She tried to envision a swarm of paparazzi disrupting a day out for the two of them, but it seemed far-fetched and ridiculous. Not that she didn't think it would happen — it could, but never had before. It was nothing she'd ever experienced, not even during her entire friendship with Damian, but she knew that prying eyes and national gossip was a part of the Wayne life.

"So what does that mean? Do you want me to sit out for the party?"

"No, of course not," he answered almost immediately with a shake of his head. "The last thing I want is for you to not be there."

Damian appeared to take a breath before saying, "I want you to know I couldn't care less what gossip columns and tabloids say about me and my family. But I will do my best to keep you out of the spotlight because my personal life is no one's business."

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Jess then said slowly, "If they ask about me or wonder if you're seeing someone… you'll say no."

His eyes flickered over her face. "Is that what you would like me to do?"

"Well... I don't really want to hide anything," she admitted while fiddling with his fingers on the counter. "I don't want to be afraid to go outside and be seen with you. That's stupid."

"And I would never be ashamed of being with you. If a meddlesome reporter asks, I'll gladly confirm we are dating, but they'll get nothing more."

"You'll keep 'em guessing, won't you?" She couldn't help grinning a little at him.

"That is what they do regardless."

Jess hadn't been told much about the planning and details behind Bruce and Selina's engagement party, but what she did quickly realize was that whomever they'd hired to deck out and transform the Wayne Manor certainly knew what they were doing — the setting was beautiful. To anyone who was familiar with the manor and its belongings, most valuables had been stashed away and every surface swept clean by Alfred's careful and practiced hand. Each pair of eyes coming through the foyer saw golden trinkets and white and pink roses adorning every corner of the Wayne family's home with soft string lights providing the only source of ambience. Matching balloons led guests through the manor and to the large living room where the life of the party was. White-clothed tables displayed the tasty concoctions crafted up by the hired caterer, and "Future Mr. & Mrs." was displayed in golden letters across the wall. Quiet, symphonic music drifted throughout the rooms, floating between the lighthearted chatter and repeated congratulations that the couple of the night would hear for the next several months.

Selina had chosen a baby pink number for Jess when she and the other women in the family had gone out days before to help her find an appropriate dress. (This time, the teen had insisted on buying her own gown despite the bride's second offer to lend another one of hers.) The embroidered, lace dress boasted a sweetheart neckline and a high-low skirt, showing off her legs and the strappy heels that gave her a few more inches in height. Kori had done something magical with her brunette locks, some sort of braid at the crown of her head that Jess knew she'd never be able to recreate on her own. Everyone in the Wayne family looked lovely in their pretty dresses and button-ups in an atmosphere that just rubbed romance and rustic extravagance in the faces of all who were present.

And to top off the fairy-tale mood, Damian very much looked the part of a handsome prince, as theatrical as it sounded. His attire was simple but lavish — a black blazer over a black button-up, matching his ebony hair and accentuating emerald eyes. Jess almost didn't want to touch him out of fear of tainting his appearance.

"Not to be melodramatic or anything, but I'm pretty sure you're the most attractive person here."

"You? Melodramatic? Never."

The ghost of a grin that he gave her only made her kiss him in response, forgetting that she was wearing lip gloss. At least it was berry-flavored.

Jess wiped her thumb against his mouth just before he hummed, "The guests might spare me a glance, but I firmly believe they will get to see how lovely you look."

She opened her mouth to try and one-up him when Kori, Mar'i, and Stephanie drifted by, the older woman clapping her hands together and cheerfully saying, "You both look wonderful."

"So instead of standing there and arguing over who's better-looking, why don't we all agree that you're both cute and get to the party?"

Stephanie took both of their hands and ushered them off, Damian exhibiting a signature glare and Jess stifling a laugh.

"Do you recall that night Misty had me fetch you during that party?"

Bruce and Selina had just concluded their short speeches, thanking the guests for their attendance and families and friends for their utmost support. His father's words, with their Bruce Wayne flair, had unsurprisingly brought tears to some eyes, including Dick's, the soft man. After enough time to eat and finish the toast, several couples were taking to the middle of the large room after the music transitioned into something slow and melodic.

Damian and Jess sat in the corner, the brunette downing a glass of non-alcoholic champagne.

"I think so," she answered. "Was that the night before you found out about stardust?"

Damian's eyes glinted. "Yes."

"Mm-hm. What about it?"

"You asked me to dance. I said no, then you told me I owed you one."

Her hazel irises sparkled in the decorative lights. "Ah, I did, didn't I? Are you asking me to dance?"

"Will you?" he asked softly, extending his hand towards her.

The answer he received was a grin and an undeniable eagerness to pull him away from the chair.

Damian had never doubted that Jess had a sense of rhythm and could hold her own on a dance floor. She was a former figure skater after all; balletic movements and gracefulness were as natural for her as was the pink that powdered her cheeks. The same could not be said, however, for the times she occasionally missed a step on the stairs, slipped on a patch of ice, or ran into something while not paying attention. Yet tonight, he didn't have to make efforts in dictating how they swayed to the ballad, not when it came easily to them both. Both hands on her waist, Damian watched as she lay her head onto his shoulder, inciting a wave of warmth in his chest. He responded by leaning down and pressing his face into her hair. She smelled exactly as he'd expected, and the familiar lavender only seemed to bring him a sense of calming security… balance. It was only him and her, surrounded not by artificial lighting and irrelevant company but by their own light and each other.

"People are staring," he heard her say quietly.

"Let them."

When she lifted her head and stepped back, he allowed her to make a fanciful twirl while holding his hand above her head. The grin she wore might have been more effortless than the spin, prompting the former assassin to return his own smile.

Jess's eyes roamed over his face as she wrapped her arms back around his neck. "Do you know what the key is to spinning and not getting dizzy?"

He knew, but he wanted to hear her speak anyway. "Tell me, and I'll know."

"Well, without getting too technical, you have to spot, especially when you're coming out of the spin," she explained in a faux, matter-of-fact tone. "You have to lock your eyes on a fixed point. Ballet dancers spot, too, but skaters can't always do that since our heads don't face forward while spinning and we spin way too fast. So we do it while we slow down, and sometimes there's a dance move right after to help alleviate any dizziness we do experience."

"I never would have known."

"The more you know," Jess said, that beautiful grin returning to her face. "Why don't you tell me something I don't know?"

Damian reached to brush the back of his fingers against her cheek, acting upon the itch in his hand. "What would you like to know?"

Her hazel irises were focused on his mouth. "How about… what you said to me in Arabic that one day? Before we kissed?"

Those same words he'd uttered flowed from between his lips again, earning a shy smile from her. "Yes, that," she laughed lightly.

He glanced around as if to make sure no one was watching (though if anyone was, he wouldn't be bothered) before bending down to her ear and translating, "Sometimes I wonder if you would be just as breathtaking in my bed as you are every day."

The hitch in her breath matched the minor stutter in their simple, to-and-fro dancing, telling him that his profession had certainly affected her. If he straightened up to look at her, Jess's face would be crimson, he knew. Before he could consider doing so, Damian felt her turning to graze her lips across his cheek — he met her halfway and kissed her, grasping gently behind her neck.

"Now that you mention it, I've wondered similar things about you," she purred against his mouth. "I guess we might have to find out."

He was formulating a response when she pulled back to assess him. "But not right now because… I like where we are."

"At my father and Selina's engagement party with our family and strangers staring at us like we're animals in a zoo?"

"No," she laughed. Reaching to run her fingers through his hair, Jess clarified, "Not doing what we want immediately when we feel like it, playing a little hard to get… Taking it slow."

"Seeing who will yield first?"

She grinned at his comment. "Yes, exactly." Her voice dropped to a whisper then, accompanying the softness in her gaze. "But… really, I would've completely surrendered right here if it worked out that way. In fact, I would have on New Year's Eve if I'm being completely honest."

Damian was about to agree when she snorted a little. "Could you imagine? Jess and Damian's first time, christening Tim's office in Wayne Tower before he even gets to set foot in it."

"I cannot decide if that sounds thrilling or revolting."

"Me neither."

Tim was soon politely asking Jess to dance, to whom Damian had given her hand with only a nod. He joined Dick at the side of the room near the table of food that was already more than half-gone. Green eyes watched as the brunette rolled her eyes and laughed at something the Ivy League graduate said, though Damian couldn't find it in himself to complain in any way despite it being in his nature. Over the last few weeks, he had noticed that Jess seemed to regard Tim with a different kind of respect, one that didn't compare to what she showed Dick or even Bruce — and she still saw his father as somewhat intimidating. He was unsure if it had something to do with his brother's admirable reputation, good looks, or both. If it was the latter, he would be astonished, considering she made it clear in a hundred ways that she was enamored by Damian and Damian only.

Would he be jealous in spite of whether or not he agreed that his brothers were attractive in their own rights?

"He's not intimidating," Jess had denied when he had mentioned her demeanor around Bruce. "I just have a lot of, you know, appreciation and respect for him."

Then the teen had muttered quickly, "And I really want to make him proud."

She had probably hoped he wouldn't catch the last-second sentiment, so Damian had pretended he didn't hear it, hiding the smile he felt tugging at his mouth.

"Everyone's happy for you, you know," Dick spoke up, bringing the former assassin out of his thoughts, "even if not all of us have said so."

"I am aware."

"Are you, Damian?"

His brother's endearing, blue eyes were patient and not at all judgmental or scrutinizing.

"What are you suggesting, Grayson?"

"I'm not suggesting anything, but your little outburst in the cave the other day seemed to mean something."

Damian exhaled through his nose. He'd assumed someone would approach him eventually about the bitter comment he'd made… and something told him Dick was likely going to use this as an opportunity to have another "heart-to-heart" or "talk" as he so graciously called it. He would never end a visit without one.

"That was nothing," Damian explained dismissively. "I'm… concerned, that is all."

"He wouldn't say no if you changed your mind about joining him and Tim."

Did he feel different now about taking a place in the Wayne business than he did a few years ago? At even sixteen-years-old, he'd been convinced he would stay away from Wayne Enterprises in the same manner he'd turned his back on the League. Damian Wayne back then had been stubborn (more so than he was now) and wholly convinced he would find a path that he could forge on his own.

Thinking about it now inflamed a frustration he didn't want to face at the moment, so Damian shook his head and trained his gaze on Jess and Tim.

"I do not know yet if I'll be going back on my decision."

"Fair enough," Dick said agreeably, reaching to swing his arm around his little brother. "But hey, now that you two are official and all…"

Unease hit his shoulders, and Damian vaguely wondered if the older man could feel it in his casual embrace.

"I presume this means you'll tell her one day?"

Like they had hundreds of times before, bright green eyes locked with cool, blue ones, communicating wordlessly between them.

Dick's gaze softened. "Dami…"

"Excuse me."

The younger Wayne slipped out from under his arm and made his way to the beverages, frowning at the selection in delayed thought. He quickly settled on water and looked over to see that Jess was no longer with Tim; she and Stephanie were looking at something on the older woman's phone, speaking animatedly about… He tried reading their lips. A coming-of-age, comedy movie that was currently in theaters about teenage twins and their dysfunctional family?

Familiar, dark hair near the pair caught his eye. Navigating between bodies, Damian crossed the room until he was at Cassandra's side, memories of the other day rising from where they'd been hastily buried away.

He didn't waste another second. "Cassandra. I would like to know what you meant to say to me in the recreational room."

She met his piercing gaze easily before taking pause and reading the apprehension in his figure. Damian shifted on his feet, willing himself to remain patient and calm. I look at Jessica like…?

"You love her."

The room tilted for the briefest of moments, and a ringing sound erupted in his ears.

Damian rarely exhibited signs of being caught off-guard, but nothing could be done about the way he almost spluttered at his sister's words.

"I… Y-you… What…?"

A quirk at the corner of her lips suggested she found his reaction amusing. Perhaps if he wasn't so aghast, he would snap at her, yet any and all thoughts were unintelligible and merely tumbling around in his head.

"You love her, Damian," Cassandra said more firmly this time, and then her dark eyes landed pointedly behind him.

Jess was approaching him, beaming with a smile that melted away his previous shock… though now he felt nervous, oddly enough, seeing her so soon after—

Cassandra was no longer there. The young woman was nowhere to be seen, but before he could do a thorough scan of the crowd, he felt a presence at his side.

"So Tim mentioned something interesting," Jess was saying, oblivious to Damian scrambling to collect himself. "He said he might be able to get me a job at Wayne Enterprises after graduation, maybe even before. Something easy, like a desk job or secretary type of position—"

"Dance with me."

He wasn't sure if his voice betrayed any urgency, but the former assassin found that in that moment, he didn't care.

Mouth half-open from being interrupted, she furrowed her brows in confusion and asked, "I… What?"

Damian put down the cup of water and caressed her face. "Dance with me," he repeated.

"Again?" Her eyes widened in incredulity.

"Again."

With that, he clasped her hand and pulled her closer, his sister's three words echoing loudly above his pounding heart and the soft music spilling through the room.

"You love her."

She didn't usually take part in family problems and business, but when it came to her dear, younger brother, she had taken the time to think it through. Damian Wayne was, in some ways, still the same, hard-headed brat who prided himself in being... "emotionally mature." Those were Jason's words but sarcastic ones. But that didn't stop her from seeing how he changed when Jessica Fairchild was around, no matter how much he might have tried to hide it.

His eyes made miniscule wrinkles in the corners when Jess showed some form of happiness, laughing or smiling. He didn't know it, but he smiled when she did.

He didn't mean to, but he moved towards her when they were in the same room. He watched her intently when she spoke, sometimes when she wasn't doing anything at all. It was like he would forget what she looked like if he glanced away.

He loved her… but she loved him, too.

Jess was not like Damian. She wasn't very good at hiding her smile when he showed one. She thought deeply, distractedly when watching him — she still didn't fully believe their relationship was real. And to make sure it was real, she touched him or met his eyes across the room. Her fingers moved like a magnet onto his arms, through his hair, between his eyebrows. She admired him.

But Cassandra would not tell anyone any of this except for what she had already told Damian because she had a strong feeling—she knew he might not tell Jess. Damian had been hurt before… But so had she.

He was afraid. She didn't want to be.

Cassandra knew these things and more, and the only thing she wanted to do was help her brother find happiness. Neither of them knew what she saw in them, but at the very least, she could give Damian… a push. She had told him what he needed to hear, something he knew deep down but wouldn't face on his own. Then, Jess would see it, too.

And maybe, one day, they would have a party just like this one.

Out of the many things he had predicted might arise as problematic for his relationship with Jess, what did occur hadn't been one of them. He'd been careful and deliberate, knowing there were chances she'd discover his other identity, that she'd be curious about the scars on his back or even wake up in the middle of the night to discover he was not there. Damian had attempted to foresee and prepare for every delicate situation, yet it seemed the universe or gods that be had decided to dream up something that not only put his relationship at risk but also involved a person who made it much, much more complicated.

The two of them had been lounging on his bed, her bare legs draped over his as she scrolled through her phone and he flipped through the workbook she'd completed earlier in the month. He would quiz her randomly or speak something basic in Arabic, and Jess was responding fairly well despite her distracted state beside him. An occasional glance over showed the former assassin that she'd pause in her scrolling, brows wrinkling together for a moment before she answered with confidence — unless she ended up incorrect. Then she'd laugh and tell him "Oh, I knew that," and he would play along, knowing just as well as she did that sometimes, she indeed did not know or had simply forgotten.

Teaching her was absolutely fitting in the sense that it offered quality time between them. He also appreciated that she had taken interest in his family lineage and background despite how reserved he was when it came to anything involving his mother's side. It meant more to him than Jess likely realized, even if it had prompted her to ask questions about a woman he hoped she would never meet.

"How many headlines do you think your name has appeared in?"

Damian didn't look up from the pages. "Too many to care about. Why?"

She either hadn't heard him or wasn't going to bother answering his question. "Why am I not surprised that even you look good in candid photos?" Jess mulled thoughtfully, squinting at something on her screen.

"What are you looking at?"

A short laugh escaped her as she held her phone out of reach when he leaned over to try and grab it. "Nothing! I'm researching."

"Researching me?" he asked, maneuvering himself onto his knees so he could attempt (and fail again) to pluck the device from her surprisingly quick grasp.

"Maybe."

Holding himself above her, Damian watched as she reached back and slipped it underneath one of his pillows, her hair spread behind her head in a tangled mess. Hazel eyes filled with laughter appraised him, but his attention was no longer focused on whatever ridiculousness she might have been giggling over on the phone.

Her arms and legs wrapped around him as he kissed her, unable to resist the way her smile had called to him.

"Why would you feel the need to do such a thing?" he asked before pressing his lips onto hers again.

"I got curious after what you said about your family — and maybe us — getting more publicity."

"A little nosy, are you?"

His hand sneaking past the hem of her sleep shorts drew out a shaky chuckle from Jess as she responded, "It's not being nosy if it's public information, right? I just wanna know what people have said about you."

"What would others say about me that you do not already know?"

Damian could tell his affectionate gestures were distracting her, from his hand at her hip to his mouth at her neck. Her fingers weaved into his hair as she arched her back, seemingly eager to press their bodies closer than they already were.

"I don't know," Jess breathed. "But this article says you were an absolute playboy at Gotham Academy. And this one tween magazine said a few years ago that your favorite food was pepperoni pizza."

"Horrendously false, both of those." His voice was muffled in the crook of her neck.

"Yeah, but just think — I could've read all these things about you when we first met and had all the wrong ideas about who you were."

"That is only if you were naive enough to believe them."

One hand was creeping beneath his shirt now, running against his skin and sending sparks down through his abdomen. But then it stopped, and so did the way her body was responding to his advances. A peculiar tension had overtaken her figure, prompting him to lift his head and see that she was staring at something on her phone.

"Habibti, what's wrong?"

The unexpected, stunned expression on her face had Damian's heart stuttering and palms sweating as he felt her retract her limbs, clearly put off by what she was reading.

"Jessica."

She sat up, forcing him up and back onto his knees, and hurriedly slid off the bed to face him. Her eyes were wide in alarm as she asked, "Is this true?"

He could barely hear her over the blood pounding in his ears. What was she talking about? What had her suddenly so distressed?

Jess tossed her phone onto the bed before him. The paragraph of the mobile article was zoomed in as if its words alone were not enough to stab him one by one:

"Wayne Enterprises is set to welcome a new board member this month, though his face is far from unfamiliar. Timothy Wayne, better known as Timothy Drake, has returned to Gotham City and will be joining the family company at Bruce Wayne's side. After two years at Stanford University to earn back-to-back bachelor's degrees in computer science and engineering and business administration, Drake says he is eager to assume his role and continue the ongoing work that Thomas and Martha Wayne's legacy has left behind. Readers might recall that the multi-billionaire legally adopted Drake nearly twelve years ago, following the death of his previous ward, Jason Todd, who died at 15 in an explosion while overseas in the Middle East..."

His blood ran frighteningly cold. Jess's voice was just above a whisper as she asked,

"Is… is your brother supposed to be dead?"

Note: THANK YOU ALL for your wonderful feedback and all the additional favorites/follows :)

evabrennan: i totally thought that, too, and figured it made sense for them to get sucked into their attraction and then take a few steps back like Jess did in this update! and i'll say yes, Jason was under Talia's care for a while, so we'll see how that plays into things pretty soon ;)

Elena2894, sickofmyownthoughts, curlystruggle: ahhh! i'm glad you guys are enjoying this ship lol i honestly can't believe it took this long but it was worth the wait? Oh and chapters will most definitely stay long too.

Miss Victoria 20: honestly! I almost got carried away writing the tense scenes between those two… hehe. But alas, i'm trying to stay within the constraint that is the T rating hahaha. i'm probably already pushing it xD glad to hear it was your fave chapter though (and that you were interested in finding out what Damian said in Arabic because i'd planned on squeezing that in this update as you can see)

selin32227: thank you for your review! I know Jess has been frustrating quite a few times, but she's trying haha. There's a lot of room for more character development for her and Damian

reddevil47: welcome back! I definitely understand getting caught up with other things. Happy to know you like this mess enough to come back :') And funny you should mention emotional grief considering the way this chapter ended...