Author's Note: Happy Thanksgiving to everyone here in the States! I have a little bit of a longer chapter for you all this time, but unfortunately it may be offset by longer breaks in the coming months. I have a family situation that's going to be taking up a lot of my time and energy in the near future, so I may not be posting as often as I'd like. Rest assured I will finish this fic! Enjoy and please review!

On the two plus hour flight from Gotham to Metropolis, Jason had come to accept that the next day was going to probably be the most weirdest experience of his life, before and after death and resurrection. He tried to hold off any emotion until after he saw his father and had some kind of confirmation, but anxiety still slipped through.

As soon as he landed and turned off the airplane mode on his cell, a text came in from his younger brother.

Alfred's ready to kill you. UK Special Forces kung fu style.

Smirking to himself, Jason typed back: There's about to be a line, so he better hurry.

I'm serious, Tim replied a moment later. What's so important that it can't wait till Sunday night when Bruce gets back? And what's wrong with a phone call?

I'll tell you in… a few hours, Jason texted. Make sure Damian doesn't get to your cell. He clicked off his own phone and went to grab a cab to downtown Metropolis, but just as he got in, he pulled it out again. Bruce deserved fair warning and frankly, the even the remotest possibility of walking into something between his parents… eww! Jason shook his head to clear it and gave the driver the address of the penthouse downtown. At least four attempts of calls and texts had been made, and he tried one last time after the cab had pulled up to the building. There was still no answer, but by then he was at the door and knocking.

It opened a full 2 minute later, which was about a minute and forty seconds more than Jason knew it took to come from the farthest point in the penthouse. His father looked about as surprised as he'd ever seen or thought him capable of.

"Hey, Dad." He put on his best grin.

"Jason," He'd said it a little louder than necessary. "Are your brothers alright? Is everything okay in Gotham?"

"Yeah, fine." He ducked under his father's arm to enter the apartment, and gave the place the same casual once-over that anyone walking into a new place might have, except Jason wasn't just anyone. He was the son of Batman.

Bruce frowned. "Then what are you doing here?"

"Can't a son just want to spend some quality time with his dad..."

"I'm coming back tomorrow evening."

"...on a weekend?"

They looked each other in a way that made Jason feel oddly like he was back in kindergarten and playing staring contests to see who would blink first. His father didn't budge, and tired of the game, he tilted his head towards the kitchen and cleared his throat.

"There's two plates on the counter." Bruce looked at him hard. "And two cups. Your bedroom door is closed, and I'm pretty sure those are pictures of my beloved baby brother on that computer. Pictures that I don't have, which means you shouldn't have them, and yet… you do. Somehow… Magically…"

What was left unstaid but clear in his eyes was, I may not be the world's greatest detective, but give me some credit. All that was left to do was wait for some kind of reaction. His father's look was completely unreadable. Jason couldn't tell if he was angry, shocked, impressed or something else. Then he crossed his arms, looked down at the floor, and simply nodded. Bruce walked to the bedroom door and gave it a soft knock.

Jason was not in the least bit surprised when Talia slowly stepped out of the small crack in the door, looking, he was pleased to note, a little chastised. He was not, however, prepared to see a bed sheet and the usual signs of nightly activities… between his parents. Jason made a face that probably looked like Damian's whenever he even smelled chocolate.

"Hello, Jason." Her tone was warm and calm, but he tried to look anywhere but at her.

"Hey, T."

"I am pleased to see you." Nothing in her voice suggested that it wasn't the case even though Jason seriously doubted that given the option either of them would have him here. "When did you arrive?"

"Ahh… about an hour ago," Jason didn't see what it had to do anything but answering her honestly was almost an instinct at this point.

"And I presume you have not yet eaten."

"Airport coffee."

"That is worse than not eating." She pointed towards the kitchenette. "You are more than welcome to my breakfast. In fact, I insist on it, though I feel obligated to warn you it is your father's creation."

Bruce looked genuinely surprised and a little hurt. "That's not what you said last night."

"Ah, Dad, please!" He probably hadn't meant it in the way that manifested itself in Jason's head, but it was too late. Now feeling in desperate need of brain bleach, the young man screwed his eyes shut. "I'm traumatized enough as it is."

Talia, calm as ever, just gave him a look.

"You are not traumatized. You are throwing a tantrum. Now stay and eat. I will return in a few moments."

And I'm expected to eat after this how exactly? he wondered. Left alone with his father in the living room, there was a long awkward silence - 'awkward' was definitely going to be the theme of the day. Then they both heard the shower start, and Bruce finally raised his eyes to him. "What gave me away?"

Jason threw his head back and laughed. "You never even imagined hiding a girlfriend, have you? 'Cause I gotta tell you, you're shit at it."

"I really did go to the office," Bruce offered.

"That's great, Dad, but I didn't exactly track you by GPS," he chuckled. "I don't think I could I could've found out through any tech if I wanted to. I'm sure you got all that covered."

"Then how?" He told him, and Bruce stared at him for a full minute before covering his eyes with his palm, and Jason wasn't sure if he was more embarrassed by the earlier unintentional innuendo or by getting caught on such a simple mistake.

"I'm taking away your 'World's Greatest' title," Jason joked before his face relaxed into something more neutral. "You could have told me, you know." Bruce raised a brow, and he winced. "I mean without details. If you'd told me earlier, I could have yelled at you earlier and we'd have all been spared a lot of embarrassment."

"Ah, so you are going to yell."

For some reason that statement more than any other thing over the last twenty four hours pissed Jason off. 'You are going to yell' sounded like an accusation he might have made at age twelve himself after bringing home a bad grade. Bruce - he'd been Bruce then, not yet 'Dad' - had promise he'd never be angry at him for bad grades as long as they discussed the reasons and Jason did better next time, but somehow the results had still felt like yelling. But that was normal because Jason was the child and Bruce the parent, and sometimes kids did something wrong and parents yelled at them. This… this was so backwards.

"You know people who have affairs generally know they're doing something wrong," he told his father, arms crossed. "Hence the sneaking around and hiding. So you tell me, Dad: what are you doing wrong here? What are both of you doing wrong?"

Bruce just looked at him impassively, which only served to make Jason more angry. Up till that point his feelings had wavered somewhere between amusement and embarrassment. He'd never had any desire to interfere in his father's love life, let alone when it involved the woman he had come to think of as his mother. But somehow when he looked at them together now their faces blurred together into those of his youngest brother, and all Jason could think of was the time Damian had cried after the fire or the death of Tim's father when he'd felt Talia's absence particularly keenly. He thought of the way his little brother's face lit up whenever anyone spoke to him in Arabic because it reminded him of his mother. And really, what the hell, parents?

"We'll talk about your brother," Bruce promised as if reading his thoughts. Jason snorted.

"And what exactly have you been doing for the last few months?" He held up a hand before his father could even open his mouth. "No, don't answer that. I really don't need the additional mental images."

"It's different now," Bruce insisted. Jason raised a skeptical brow, and he sighed and inclined his head towards the kitchenette much like Talia had done. "We can finish this conversation later. Go eat something. She won't be happy till you do."

Jason rolled his eyes but did as he was told. Generally speaking no one had to prompt him to eat. As a former street kid and knowing full well what it was like to go hungry, he always finished everything Alfred set before him and made sure Tim ate even through his bouts of depression after his father's death which were thankfully becoming fewer and further in between recently. No one ever had to make sure that Jason himself was eating, except this wasn't the first time Talia had done it.

He picked up the plate in his left hand and gingerly lopped off a piece of omelet with his fork. "Huh, that's actually… not awful."

"Thanks," Bruce said deadpan.

Jason took a bite of the turkey sausage. "Really not awful. Ladies go for the whole 'manly cooking' thing, huh? I'll have to make a note of that."

"I thought you were mad at me."

"I'm mad on Damian's behalf. Doesn't mean I can't make fun of you."

His father, not usually one to show outward signs of discomfort, sighed and leaned back his head to stare at the ceiling as if all the solutions to their problems could be found in an unseen higher power.

"This is different," Bruce repeated, but he didn't sound terribly convincing.

"Why?" Jason finished eating and washed the plate. "How's this different from a million other times it starts with the two of you have hooked up and ends with shooting at each other?"

"Because of what's happening with Ra's."

"Yeah." The young man crossed his arms and glared. "You mean that thing I said we should tell her about weeks ago, but you said 'no'?"

"Tell me what?"

If he hadn't already left the plate in the sink, Jason was sure it would be in pieces all over the floor. Few could sneak up on Batman or any of his protégés, but Talia was definitely one of those people. They must not have noticed the sound of the shower stopping while Jason had run the water in the sink to clean the dishes, but now she was standing just outside the doorway between the bedroom and living room. Now dressed but still drying the wet strands of her long chocolate-brown hair with a towel, Talia regarded them with clear questions in her eyes.

Internally Jason winced. Though it was unintentional and probably not the best way for her to find out, he was glad that at least something would be out in the open. He looked at his father with an obvious, Well? Go ahead. Bruce's jaw tightened, and he was quiet for a long moment. Too long, apparently, for Talia whose expression changed from curious but relaxed to annoyed and suspicious. Tossing the towel in her hand back somewhere inside the bedroom, she took several long strides to the couch where she pulled out a pen from her purse, scribbled down something on a post-it note, and handed the yellow paper to Jason.

"My address," she said crisply, though he didn't feel like the sudden coldness was directed at him. "The doorman is called Lawrence. Tell him I requested you wait for me, and he will let you in. I have a sudden feeling it is past time your father and I have a little chat on a few matters."

Jason looked to Bruce, who, while obviously not thrilled with the looming conversation, didn't seem too opposed to him waiting at Talia's apartment while the storm hit. He nodded curtly at him, and Jason pocketed the post-it.

"Have fun," he told his father more cheerfully than necessary. "I don't feel sorry for you at all." Because you should have said something to her weeks ago.

After he was out of the building and on the street, trying very hard not to think of the shit that had surely hit the fan by now behind him, Jason pulled out his ear buds and phone. It only rang once before his brother picked it up.

"You got your ears on, Timmy?"

"Hold on." There was some rustling noises in the background before it finally settled. "I'm here. How are you still alive?"

"Sorry to disappoint you."

"Not disappoint, just surprised. Did you not see Bruce yet?"

"Oh, I saw him. Could have done with seeing a lot less, though."

"What does that mean?"

"Are you by yourself?"

"I'm in the cave, yeah."

"Well, just in case anyone comes down, don't react." He took a breath and paused on the sidewalk. "Congratulations, you were right about the girlfriend thing. Apparently my parents still make out and then some."

"Bruce and Talia?" He could practically hear the frown in Tim's voice and for some reason it irritated him.

"Do I have other parents?" Jason snapped, then realizing how stupid the comment was pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, Dad's with Talia. For the last few month now, since she sent Ace back to us."

There was a very long pause in which Jason wasn't at all sure the connection hadn't been dropped. Out of habit, he tapped the mic on the headset and tried again. "Wow, you're really good at this 'not reacting' thing."

"There's nothing really to react to." Tim exhaled a small puff of air, and Jason imagined him shrugging. "I hadn't really suspected anything, but I can't say I'm exactly surprised. They have such a long and convoluted history that nothing about Bruce and Talia's relationship surprises me."

"Hey, I'm trying to share my trauma here." Jason complained. "Work with me."

He was a few blocks away now, dodging other pedestrians. Metropolis was enjoying another warm sunny day - did this city have non-sunny days? - but all Jason could focus on was Tim on the phone and the general background noises of the cave. He paused next to a bakery to swipe through to his GPS and enter the address Talia had given him on the post-it note. It was only a fifteen minute walk away, so he started moving again.

Tim made a sound that was somewhere between a chuckle and a snort. "Did you walk in on them or something?"

"No! Though I think I only beat that potentially permanent mental scar buy a few minutes. Why are you laughing?"

"Because you sound like you're five. Who cares what they do in private if it makes them happy?"

"Oh, I'm all for them being happy, but you know who else should be in on some of that happiness? Damian." Tim was quiet again in that way that, even over the phone, Jason could tell he wanted to say something that he thought was going to make him angry. "Spit it out, Timmy."

"I'm not sure it's my place."

"Hey," Jason stopped at a corner before making a turn towards the street that lead directly to Talia's apartment. "You're my brother. It's literally your job in life to tell me shit I don't want to hear. I won't be mad."

"Okay, but just remember you said that," Tim sighed then took a deep breath. "You always claim that these things bother you because of Damian, and yeah, I guess it's probably mostly true."

"But…"

"But a good chunk of it is about you. Because she's your mom too, and you want her home. There's nothing wrong with that, but you have to admit it. When you talk to them, don't just talk about how this all affects Damian. Tell them how you feel about it too."

"What are you, my therapist?"

"Worse," he replied ominously, but with a tinge of amusement. "I'm your brother and it's literally my job in life to tell you shit you don't want to hear."

Jason couldn't help it. He laughed because, really, he'd invited this little heart-to-heart. Tim was right, of course, and it was odd how similar what he said sounded to what Dick had told him on that horrible plane ride back from San Francisco months earlier. Except his older brother had made it sound like an accusation, like he was wrong to feel the way he did, whereas Tim spoke gently and without judgment. Thinking of Dick still hurt, so Jason changed the topic.

"I'm almost at her apartment," he said. "Sorry to cut this chick flick moment short, Sammy, but I gotta go."

"Sure," the teen laughed. "I still don't get that reference, you know."

"It's okay. At least you get that it's a reference. I'll make you watch Supernatural when I get back," he promised and hung up.

Unsurprisingly, the building where Talia resided was no less upscale looking than the one that held Bruce's penthouse. The doorman - Lawrence - squinted at Jason suspiciously but seemed to relax and let him through when he showed him the post-it note with the address and Talia's signature at the bottom. Her apartment was towards the top of the building, though unlike Bruce's penthouse, there were other units on the floor. Jason suspected she probably didn't want to invest into anything too permanent.

It wasn't until he got to the door that he realized Talia had forgotten to give him a key.