Archive of Our Own ^beta

-Wayne Manor-  

“And for the love of  god,  don’t let the cameras catch any sparring, attempted fratricide, or ninja crap,” Bruce said. 

“Bye, Bruce,” Tim waved. 

“Please,” Bruce said. “How often do I say ‘please’?” 

“Have fun in Star!” Tim pushed him out the door. 

“Be nice to Clark.” Bruce scowled. “I mean it, Tim.” 

“I’m not the Demon Child,” Tim said. “And you  know  he’s not going to agree to that.” 

“Tim—” 

“You’re going to miss your flight if you don’t go soon,” Tim gave Bruce his best pitying/judgmental face, which was something he’d had a lot of practice on, what with how Dick wasn’t able to get his life (read: his cooking skills, or lack thereof) together. “You don’t want to have to take the private jet, do you? That would look so bad.” 

Bruce glared at Tim. 

Tim was, out of all his children, the absolute least intimidated by Bruce’s glares, though. In part because Tim had a hard time reading expressions, just in general. But it served him well, so he wasn’t going to complain. He smiled brightly and, finally, shut the door. 

“He’s gone!” Tim shouted. 

He heard Bruce’s world-weary sigh from the other side of the door. 

-Queen Residence-  

“I left you a freezer full of meals you can reheat in the oven. Each one has the instructions written out, explicitly, on the foil. Do not stray from the directions, Ollie, and do not – I repeat, do not – add anything to my recipes,” Dinah said. 

“I got this, Dinah!” Ollie crossed his heart. 

“I specifically filled the freezer with thins that Lian will eat. She’s four, Ollie. No chili. No hot sauce. And certainly no straying from the meal plan outlined on the fridge calendar. You know how she gets, Ollie. If she doesn’t like something, she flat-out won’t eat it,” Dinah continued. 

“Yeah, yeah. Roy’s always telling me that—” 

“And Robert should be able to eat the same things Lian is eating. Just remember that he’s two and not all his food is going to be solid yet. Oh, god, I’m getting a migraine thinking about it.” Dinah put down her bag. “Hold on, I’m going to write Bruce a note about that—” 

“Dinah!” Ollie caught her by the shoulders, smiling. “It’s fine. We got this. Go catch your flight, Pretty Bird.” 

Dinah scowled. “Ollie, I’m trusting you with this. Those babies mean everything to me.” They weren’t even her blood, but she meant it. “Emiko likes helping with Robert. Let her. I know you feel weird, letting your baby sister do things for you, but she enjoys it. And Conner—” 

“Conner’s off with Kyle and Donna for most of the week,” Ollie nodded. “And Cissie and Mia are both at college. I know, don’t worry. All the kids are accounted for.” 

“Don’t start anything with Roy, Ollie. I’ll kick your ass if you do,” Dinah glared. 

Ollie offered a placating gesture. “We’re good. We’ll be fine. I promise.” 

Dinah glared at him, then picked her back up, once more. “I’m trusting you, Ollie.” 

“And I’m flattered,” Ollie moved in and gave her a farewell kiss. “I’ll see you in, like, two weeks. Right? Piece of cake.” 

-Wayne Manor-  

Damian eyed the production crew dubiously. 

“Just pretend we’re not here.” one of the coordinators said. “Don’t worry, we don’t bite—” 

“Dami does.” Tim interrupted. 

She looked over at Tim, smile freezing in place. She’d crouched down to Damian’s level and – ever since she’d arrived – she'd been using that cutesy, overly friendly voice usually reserved for little kids. It was a little annoying, though Tim understood that it was an attempt to make Damian more comfortable. 

Unfortunately for the coordinator – and just about everyone else – Damian was not a normal eight-year-old. Placating him, as one would a child, was futile. 

“What?” she asked. 

“Damian does,” Tim pulled out his phone and opened his texts. 

“Does what?” 

“Bite,” Tim said. 

“No, he doesn’t,” Clark swooped in, laughing nervously. He moved between the coordinator and Tim. “Damian doesn’t bite. Sorry. Tim’s just messing with you.” 

“Ah, you must be Clark!” the coordinator straightened and offered her hand, “I’m—” 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Tim mumbled. 

The coordinator faltered, almost withdrawing her hand. Clark belated moved forward, jerky and awkward, and shook her hand. She deflated in relief, but kept her smile pinned in place. “I’m Melina Vostokoff,” she managed. “You can call me Mel. I will be coordinating your interviews, primarily, but I’m also here to answer any questions you may have.” 

“Clark Kent,” Clark smiled. 

“And these are Damian and Timothy, I presume,” Melina said. She motioned first to the small child, then to the teenager. “I was told there were five Wayne children, yes? So, there are three other children?” 

“Dick and Jason don’t live in the family home,” Clark nodded. “But yes, uh. Cass, Tim, and Damian. And-and Steph. She doesn’t live here, but you’ll be seeing a lot of her.” 

“That’s because you haven’t put a lock on the fridge, Big Guy!” Steph walked past, shooting Clark a pair of finger-guns. She paused long enough to also salute Mel, but otherwise continued right out the other side of the room. 

“She’s Tim’s friend.” Clark shrugged. “No one remembers giving her a house key, but she’s always here, so we assume she has one.” 

Tim glanced up from his phone to eye Clark dubiously, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to have any part in Steph’s introduction. He tilted his head one way, thoughtfully, then the other, then went back to his phone instead of interjecting. If Clark glanced back at Tim’s phone, he was sure he’d see one of two things: business texts with Wayne Enterprises personnel (many of whom had no idea their boss was fifteen) or texts with Kon. 

“And the, uh, Kent children?” Mel asked. “I believe you have two boys, yes?” 

“Oh, Jon and Conner split time between my Ma’s and my ex-wife's, mostly. They don’t live here,” Clark laughed nervously. 

“Are you sure about that?” Tim intoned. His tap-tapping away at his phone paused briefly, then sped up exponentially. That probably meant he was texting Kon, then. 

Clark glanced at him, then back at Mel. “You’ll probably see a lot of them, too, though,” he said. “Jon and Conner both spend a lot of time here.” 

“Oh! Do your children get along with the Wayne children?” Mel asked. She smiled. 

“No,” Damian scoffed. 

Mel’s smile faltered and she seemed to resist the urge to side-eye the kid. 

“Yes,” Tim countered. 

Melina hesitated, glanced at the teen and the eight-year-old, then turned back to Clark. “That’s. Nice?” 

“Yeah, one big happy family,” Tim mumbled. “Yay! Pseudo-incest.” His sarcasm was strong, but Clark still winced. Tim glanced up and met Mel’s wide, shocked eyes. “I’m dating Clark’s son,” he deadpanned. “We’ve been dating since before Clark’s divorce was finalized.” 

“Oh, that’s... nice,” Mel said. 

“It’s awkward as shit,” Tim disagreed. He shoved his phone into his pocket. “Stay out of B’s study, don’t mess with the kitchen, and if you have to poke your head into someone’s bedroom, knock first or else resign yourself to the consequences.” 

Mel blinked very slowly. “You sound like my daughters,” she chuckled. 

“Have your daughters ever thrown knives at intruders?” Tim raised an eyebrow. 

Melina smirked at him. “Actually, yes.” 

Tim startled a little. “No shit.” 

“Tim,” Clark said, voice strained. 

“What? I’ve never heard of not-us people throwing knives at other people for minor inconveniences!” Tim motioned between himself and Mel. “That’s so weird!” 

-Queen Residence-  

“‘Oh, work with me,’ she said,” Yelena muttered. “‘It’ll be fun,’ she said. Well, she lied.” 

Nat patted her on the shoulder consolingly. “Don’t take it so hard, El, it’s not like Melina could have known we would be working on separate coasts for this one, right?” 

“I don’t care about that.” Yelena glared across the room, where her and Nat’s estranged father was helping set up cameras for the interviews. “I just don’t want to be stuck with  Alex,”  she intoned. 

Nat snorted. “Alex.” 

“He wants so badly to fit in, here, then pretends he’s not just a social sellout, in private. Sickening,” Yelena hissed. 

“He just wants to make friends, El. Might as well let him do what he thinks he needs to,” Nat shrugged. “Personally, I don’t see a point in dwelling on it.” A notification came through on her phone and she glanced down at it, then sighed. “Can you hold down the fort? Sounds like someone pissed off the Queen kid’s boyfriend—again.” 

“Yeah, of course. You go be the mediator for the stupid kids,” Yelena said. 

“Try not to make Alexei cry again,” Nat tucked her phone back into her pocket. “He’s going to end up fired if he keeps having meltdowns.” 

“How is that my problem?” 

“Yel, pleases,” Nat frowned at her. 

Yelena sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. I will not poke at the big, self-absorbed baby. Until you are back. Good luck with the delinquents and the baby. Do you think you will have to fire someone?” 

“Not if the boyfriend makes him quit, first. And he should really know better, too. I mean. Queen’s a billionaire, and this guy’s made one of the kids cry twice, on the first day. That’s a bad look,” Nat rolled her eyes and strode out of the room. 

Nat wasn’t even out of earshot before she heard Yelena heckling their dad. It made her smile, anyway. She allowed herself the amusement as she took the stairs to the next floor, two at a time, and beelined for the trouble. 

As expected, Roy Harper (not Queen – everyone had been forwarded that memo after how negatively Roy had reacted to “Roy Queen” the first time) —Roy Harper stood to one side, with a four-year-old crying into his shoulder. He was twenty-three and, according to the notes Nat had been given, he was living with his dad, after having moved back in, due to the unexpected fatherhood that greeted him on the tail-end of some form of rehab that his friends had pushed him to try. 

Also as expected, Roy’s boyfriend – who was a bit young for him, honestly – was shouting at one of their scene directors. Some new guy Nat didn’t know the name of, and figured she’d never know the name of. 

“—and if I see you anywhere  near  Lian, ever again, I’m going to break every one of your fingers!” the boyfriend shouted. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” the scene director defended. 

“She doesn’t like strangers! She told you to leave her alone! I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but—” 

Nat cleared her throat. “Hey, sorry,” she said. ”I’m Natalia Vostokoff, one of the assistant producers of the show. I’m here to escort, uh,” she pulled her phone out and glanced at the last message again. “Mr. Clayton,” she read off, then lifted her head and smiled. “I’m here to escort Mr. Clayton off the premises.” 

“What?” the guy squeaked. 

The boyfriend stewed, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl firmly in place. 

Nat gave her best PR smile. “I believe upper management wants to talk to you about better placement, for your skill set,” she said. It was a lie. He was off for the day and suspended pending final judgement of upper management. One did not simply make a billionaire’s granddaughter cry, three times, without there being some kind of consequence. 

“Get your sketchy ass out of here,” the boyfriend said. 

The guy sulked out of the room and down the stairs Nat had gone up. 

Nat sighed and waited until she thought the guy, Clayton or whatever, was far enough away that she wouldn’t spark something else with him. “I’m so sorry about that, Mr. Harper, Mr... uh.” She smiled awkwardly at the boyfriend. 

“Jason,” he muttered. 

“Right. I’m very sorry about that. I don’t know why he wasn’t taking the warnings, but that was completely unprofessional of him, and I’m so sorry about the effect he had on Ms. Harper,” Nat glanced at the four-year-old. 

Lian sniffed and lifted her head to look at Nat. 

Nat gave her a tiny wave, smiling. 

Lian hid her face. 

Nat winced, “Sorry,” she said. 

“No, she’s just very shy,” Roy said. He smiled down at Lian. 

“That other fucker isn’t coming back, is he?” Jason asked. 

“No,” Nat said. “Not here. I don’t know if he’ll even be anywhere on this show, after that. Again, it was extremely unprofessional, especially when he wasn’t taking the warnings.” 

Jason nodded, satisfied. 

-Bruce-  

Bruce harrumphed, thoughtfully. “I see.”  

He nodded and made himself a bit more comfortable in the seat, ready to give his opening interview.  

“Right. Well. I’m Bruce Wayne, obviously.” Bruce offered the camera a charming smile. “Clark is my significant other, we’re not married, and I don’t see that happening in the near future, but we’re very comfortable together and have been for a long time. He’s been my best friend for a very long time and the evolution to a romantic relationship was a natural progression from where we were.  

“I have five children, Clark has two. My two oldest children, Dick and Jason—”  

Bruce paused, listening, and gave a bemused smile.  

“No, no. That’s his name. He hates going by Richard. Okay? Yeah.” He nodded. “My oldest children, Dick and Jason, no longer live at home. Jason doesn’t visit as much as I would like, but Dick is liable to show up at the drop of a hat, and he’s always welcome, here.  

“Cassandra is my middle child, and my only daughter. Ours, I suppose – we might not be married, but Clark is part of the family. Cass is our girl. She signs more often than she speaks, and we facilitate her as well as we can. The whole family, Clark and his boys included, is fluent in ASL. Cass is also deeply involved in dance.  

“My next youngest is Tim. He’s a smart kid and very interested in technology. Tim is fifteen and recently finished up everything he needed to graduate high school. I’m extremely proud of his accomplishment and plan to support him in whatever his next endeavour will be. He also loves coffee, which he would assure you is a core personality trait.  

“My youngest is Damian. He’s eight, but acts more like a miniature adult than a child. We’re working on getting Damian interested in child-friendly endeavours, though he’d much rather practice his katas or paint than play ‘infantile’ games with the rest of us. His previous living situation didn’t foster a love of play, unfortunately, but we’re getting through to him.  

“Kon is Clark’s older son. He’s,” Bruce hesitated thoughtfully. “Conner is sixteen, but he’s the newest in our lives, Clark’s and mine. His previous living situation was... less than constructive, I think. He’s got a long way to go, but – with me and Clark to support him – he'll only grow and mature and change for the better. That isn’t to say I don’t appreciate Conner, though. He has growing to do, but so do we all.   

“Jon, Jonathan, is Clark’s younger son. Jon is nine and very energetic, friendly, sociable. Having him around is a breath of fresh air. My family isn’t known for being...” Bruce leaned back in his chair and sighed. ”I dunno. We aren’t a very emotionally expressive family. Dick was always the most emotionally open and expressive, so with his moving out, there was a sense of stoicism that settled on the house. Jon helps to beat back that stoicism.  

“Jon and Conner don’t live with us, but they visit a lot. Both of them live in Kansas, with Clark’s mother and father, though they also spend a lot of time with Jon’s mother, Lois. Mrs. Kent and Ms. Lane are good for the boys, but I could stand seeing them more.  

“Ah, and Alfred. Alfred is the butler – yes, I know how that sounds – but Alfred is part of the family. He raised me and he’s a grandfather to all my children. Officially, he’s the butler. But, really, he’s my father and he’s part of the family. A very important part of the family.”  

-Dinah-  

Dinah laughed as the camera adjusted. “No, no, that’s fine. That’s fine.”  

She listened, nodding, then smiled again.  

“I’m Dinah Lance,” she said. She cut herself off, “Sorry,” she turned to the camera fully. “Better? Okay.” She cleared her throat. “I’m Dinah Lance. I’ve been married twice, but both times to Oliver Queen. We went through a rough patch and had a brief divorce, but he’s it for me, and I think I’m it for him.  

“We have... five kids, three of which live with us. We also have a grandkid and Oliver’s little sister in the house. Cissie and Mia are away at college, they’re very sweet and visit home a lot, but you probably won’t see much of them.  

“Roy’s our oldest and he and his daughter, Lian, are currently staying with us. Roy’s twenty-three, but we have our door open to him, and to Lian. We’re in a position to help him and he knows that, and we all want Lian to have the best life possible, which is wonderful common ground for us. I know having adult children in the house isn’t for everyone, but it’s worked for us. Ollie and Roy fight a bit, but they’ve been butting heads a lot less. I’m very proud of both of them.  

“Conner is Ollie’s son from a previous relationship. I love him like he’s my own son, though. He’s a wonderful son. Conner is very serious and responsible. He joins me in the mornings for my morning meditation and a martial art. We’re a mixed martial arts family, so we don’t have a set martial art we do, but our favourite, this past month, has been jiujitsu.  

“Robert is the baby of the family, as the youngest. He’s two. He loves banana things, but he won’t eat anything green, right now. Robert was conceived into a complicated situation, and I want to be delicate about that. He’s not biologically mine, but he’s my sun and stars. I’m going to miss him a lot while I'm away.  

“Ah, Emiko. Her situation is a little complicated, as well. Emiko is... Oliver’s sister, but she’s also Robert’s sister. Half-sister, both. Emiko and Robert share a mother, and the mother is not in their lives – which I’m glad for. Emiko lives with us, and she’s like a daughter to me. I think Ollie sees her as a daughter, too.  

“And that’s our family.”  

-Wayne Manor-  

“Queen has arrived,” Damian announced. He stood stiffly, annoyance plastered on his face and embedded in his body language. 

Tim glanced over, from his place curled up in an armchair, then turned his attention back to whatever was on his phone.  

“Well, let’s go say hi,” Clark suggested. 

Damian looked over at him, obvious disgust on his face. “Greet Queen,” he deadpanned. “I would rather forcibly remove my arm from my body without anesthesia than make the likes of Oliver Queen’s wife welcome in my house,” he announced. 

Clark blinked down at Damian in surprise. 

Luckily, Cass swept into the room, as if she knew her baby brother was beginning to act up and Clark would be out of his depth. She waved at Damian, grabbing his attention, then pointed at the ceiling with her pointer finger, then arced it over and across her body until her pointer finger pointed to the ground.  Come,  it meant. 

Damian pouted, but followed Cass out of the room. Cass continued to sign to him, as they walked out the door of the sitting room, and Damian engaged her, even though it looked like he was trying to appear above the interaction. 

Tim snapped his gum loudly. 

Clark glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. 

Tim raised an eyebrow back. “I have work to do,” he said. 

Clark snorted. “Oh, so you’re probably too busy to have Conner over. I mean. If you’re too busy to greet a guest that will be in your home for two weeks. Right?” he asked. 

Tim snapped his gum thoughtfully. “I can make time,” he hopped up. 

Clark smiled and followed Tim out of the sitting room. “I figured.” 

“Watch it, Kent,” Tim glanced back at him. “You might be a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, but I’m a teenager. Do you have any idea how much pain I can cause you, if I feel like it?” 

Clark laughed. “Oh, I’m aware. You forget that I have my own teenage son. You and your older siblings aren’t my only brushes with the terrifying teenage species, kid.” 

Tim stuck his tongue out, then ran to catch up with Cass and Damian. 

Dinah had just been let into the lobby of Wayne Manor when Clark entered. “Oh!” Dinah said. She set her bags down and propped her hands on her hips. “Right. You and Bruce. I’d almost forgotten.” She smiled wide. 

Clark gave a surprised laugh. “Dinah, are you serious?” 

“No,” Dinah admitted, still smiling. “Ollie’s the one that forgot. He mentioned not realizing Bruce was married, if you believe it.” 

“He isn’t,” Clark laughed. 

“I didn’t correct him. Imagine his surprise when Bruce shows up on his doorstep,” Dinah winked. Then the turned to the three Wayne kids. “Ah! Cass, you’re getting so big!” Dinah brought her hands in front of her and signed as she spoke. 

Cass grinned at her and signed back.  Grown more beautiful, you mean?  

Dinah snorted. “Was that a Star Wars reference, young lady? It looks like Dick really did wrangle you into that Star Wars marathon. Last I heard, he and Jason were fighting about which movies you should watch first.” 

Jason showed me Pride and Prejudice and The Sound of Music,  Cass signed.  Dick showed me the Star Wars movies.  

Dinah nodded. “Good movies.” She turned to the next kid in line, which was Damian (by virtue of having entered the foyer with Cass). “You must be Damian,” she said. “I have not yet had the pleasure.” 

Damian sniffed. ”As if I would waste my time on the likes of a  Queen.  My Father’s competitors are hardly befitting acquaintances of his Heir.” 

Dinah tilted her head back and laughed. “Oh, Damian,” she said. “Someone hasn't done their research.” (Damian flushed, clearly feeling insulted – Tim looked as thrilled as Damian looked embarrassed, from where he stood on Damian’s other side.) “My last name is still Lance, Damian. And I have no hand in Queen Industries.” 

“Oof,” Tim intoned. “Two strikes, Damian.” 

Damian hissed lowly and turned, ready to attack. Cass sidled over and placed herself between Tim and Damian, though, preventing what could very well have turned into bloodshed. 

“And Tim. I’d tell you that you’ve grown, but I’m afraid I’d be lying, kid,” Dinah laughed. 

Tim squeaked. “Dinah!” 

“What? You’re so tiny, Tim. Don’t you even eat?” 

“Oh, we wish,” Clark adjusted his glasses and smiled down at Tim. 

Tim covered his face in both hands. Because Tim was wearing reading glasses, though, he ended up smudging up both sides of his lenses by doing that. “I’m not short,” he said. “I just haven’t had all my growth spurts, yet.” 

“Your caffeine consumption guarantees you a dearth of growth spurts,” Damian scoffed. 

“Dearth can mean a lot of something or not enough of something,” Clark said. 

Damian curled his lip in disgust, then started to mutter to himself in Arabic. Clark could hear him, and understood the words to be complaints about the English language and the confusion it seemed to cause for the sake of being confusing. He chuckled, nodding. 

-Queen Residence-  

“Roy, why is Jason here?” Ollie blinked at Jason, who was apparently making breakfast for himself, Emiko, Robert, and Lian. And maybe Ollie. 

“What?” Roy glanced up from where he’d been reading to Lian at the kitchen table. “He’s been here almost a week. Did you only just notice?” 

Ollie opened his mouth. 

Then closed it. 

Then motioned toward the cameras. “Roy, it’s swap week. Weeks. Two of them. Your boyfriend shouldn’t be here—” 

“It’s supposed to be a straight swap, isn’t it? Our household gets a not-Dinah and theirs gets a Dinah. Everything else is supposed to remain the same,” Roy turned back to the book. ”Jason’s practically always here, why wouldn’t he be here during the swap?” 

“Maybe because it’s going to be on television and I didn’t think you'd want that kind of invasion of your privacy,” Ollie mumbled. He sat down at the table, though. “Whatever, if you don’t care that there's cameras around when you’re having your boyfriend over, I don’t care, either.” 

Jason put a plate in front of Ollie, loudly. “Gee, thanks,” he deadpanned. 

“Don’t give me attitude, kid,” Ollie pointed at Jason with his fork. “Don’t think I’m happy about having you around. I just have to acknowledge that Roy is more than old enough to decide who he spends time with. Dinah gave me a whole talk and everything.” 

Roy chuckled and glanced between Ollie and Jason, then turned to Emiko. “Hear that, Emi? Ollie’s had a whole talk from Dinah and everything.” 

Emiko snickered into her own plate. 

Jason put a plate in front of Roy, then took Lian and put her into a high chair. Robert was already situated in his own and both high chair trays were already food-laden. After situating the four-year-old, Jason drew up his own chair and plopped a last plate on the table. 

… 

The scene shifts and it’s Bruce, caught in traffic. Bruce just sighs and goes through business emails on his phone while the taxi crawls through traffic. 

-Wayne Manor-  

“Tell me a little about how the house is usually run,” Dinah said. She looked up at Clark. 

“Oh, uh,” Clark glanced over at Alfred. “How the house is usually run...” he turned back to Dinah and offered a sheepish smile. “Alfred runs just about everything around here, I think. Breakfast is at six or six-thirty, except on weekends when it’s at nine or ten. Lunch is noon or one on weekdays, two-ish on weekends. Dinner is six in the evening... um.” Clark shrugged. “And I think that’s the only really scheduled or regimented anything?” 

Well, of things that could be shared in front of a camera crew. “Damian’s bedtime is ten—” 

“A bit late for a kid,” Dinah noted. 

Clark shrugged. “Jon’s is ten, as well, when he’s over. It works for them, I guess. They’re night owls.” 

Dinah smirked. “What about you?” 

“Oh, I’m not a night owl,” Clark said. “Um, Tim’s supposed to be in bed by one, but he’s almost always caught up later than that...” he shrugged. “If there’s no school, no one’s down for breakfast. Ever.” 

Dinah nodded. “Does Damian do any after-school things?” 

“No. He has katas and painting that he does, here, and he takes Titus and Ace for long garden walks, but he’s been thrown out of every extracurricular we’ve tried to put him in. Except baseball, but that might be because he does baseball with Jon, instead of with a school team.” 

Dinah continued to nod. “What about Tim? Any clubs or activities?” 

“He’s out of school and prefers to manage WE things to actual clubs or activities. I think he’s overhauling the IT department of Wayne Enterprises, right now.” 

“At fifteen?” Dinah hummed thoughtfully. “Smart kid.” 

“Yeah, and very self-directed. He does okay with instructions, but he prefers to go it on his own.” 

“And Cass, of course, is doing college classes and dance?” Dinah asked. 

“Yes, she’s taking all the dance classes she can get her hands on, though she’s pursuing ballet the most seriously, I think. She hasn’t really connected with people in her dance classes, yet, but she’s very shy. I’m sure it’s a matter of time for her to grow comfortable enough in that situation, you know?” 

“She’s very sweet,” Dinah nodded. 

(Melina was thrilled, at least so far, with how well the first day was going. Everything seemed to be running smoothly, not a bump in the road, thusfar.) 

-Queen Residence-  

Bruce arrived to the Queen residence late, already rubbing his temples with the onslaught of a headache. “It had to be Oliver," he muttered to himself. (He immediately regretted saying it out loud, full-well knowing that it would be a favourite sound bite for later use by the show runners.) 

Bruce knocked on the door and was let in by a girl who was partly Asian. Japanese, if Bruce recalled correctly. “Hello,” Bruce said. 

Emiko looked at him solemnly for a moment (reminding Bruce, slightly, of his own daughter – Emiko and Cass were even the same age: sixteen), then broke into a wide grin. ”Sup,” she said. She swung the front door wide and turned. “Ollie! Guess who’s here!” 

“The swap?” Oliver walked around the corner, then stuttered to a stop. “Bruce.” 

“Oliver,” Bruce deadpanned. 

Emiko tugged away one of Bruce’s bags. “I’ll show you to your room!” she grinned. 

“I thought I would be getting your wife or something!” Oliver said. 

“I don’t have a wife, Oliver. I have a boyfriend,” Bruce returned. He started to follow Emiko, but took a moment to raise one judgmental eyebrow in Oliver’s direction. “Honestly, Queen. Don’t you keep up with the society section?” 

“No, I get sick of seeing so much of my own face,” Ollie returned, still clearly shell-shocked. Then he lit up. “Boyfriend! Who is he? Why didn’t I know you had one?” he turned and fled the room, presumably to look up some current events. 

(Off to the side, Yelena and Nat both stood, looking a bit resigned. So much for getting the whole Queen family in one place, so that they could all meet their swap at once. What did they expect, though? Everyone already knew that the Waynes and Queens ran in the same circles. Of course the Queens already knew Bruce Wayne.) 

-Wayne Manor-   

Dinah smiled at the camera. “Damian can be very intense, yes. But he’s also adorable. I hope I’ll be able to get through that tough exterior of his and do some bonding while I’m here.”  

… 

“So, I hear you like to paint,” Dinah said. 

Damian glanced up from his copy of the Illiad, written in Greek. He raised an eyebrow. “Will you insist to interrupt my studies for the entirety of your stay, here? If so, do advise me of this, now. I must know whether I should avoid the familial spaces until your departure.” 

Dinah smiled at him. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t quite be in the spirit of things—” 

“Interesting how you think I care.” The eight-year-old reburied his nose in the book, going as far as to put a pair of earbuds in, presumably in order to block Dinah out. 

… 

“It’s going to take a bit of work,” Dinah confided in the audience. She laughed. “Luckily, the other kids are a bit more receptive to my presence here.”  

… 

Tim pulled out an earbud and looked up from his phone. “Hey, Dinah?” 

“Yeah?” Dinah looked up from her book. 

“I’m having someone over later...” 

“Oh, I’m not sure I can be an authority, in terms of whether guests can come over,” Dinah said. She gave him an apologetic look. “I think that one’s on Clark, for the two weeks I’m here.” 

“I mean, you make week two’s rules,” Tim said. ”But actually, it’s Kon. Clark obviously can’t tell him no or anything. I just wanted to let you know so that you weren’t blindsided by the extra presence, later. Even if it’s just my boyfriend.” 

“Oh. Thank you, Tim, that’s very thoughtful,” Dinah smiled. 

… 

“This is probably where I’m meant to be shocked about Clark’s son dating Bruce’s son, probably,” Dinah shifted in her seat. “I’m not, though. The boys have been together for two years, compared to Bruce and Clark’s one year, for one thing. For another thing, I try not to judge another’s situation, if at all possible. If I went about judging situations by how they appeared on the surface, I doubt I would have ended up with Robert and Emiko in my life. Again, their story is complicated.”  

“So, it doesn’t bother you that possible future step-brothers are dating?” Melina asked.  

“When you boil it down to that, it sounds bad,” Dinah laughed. “But no. It doesn’t bother me. I know the boys, individually and as a unit, and they’re good kids. I don’t think their love life should be dictated by whether or not their fathers are dating, personally. I hope that’s not controversial.” She chuckled again, eyes sparkling with a complete lack of care regarding whether or not her opinion was controversial.  

-Queen Residence-  

“You’re telling me,” Bruce took a deep breath. “You don’t know how your own house is run?” 

“You’re one to talk,” Ollie scoffed. “Alfred runs  your  house. So what if Dinah runs mine?” 

Bruce scowled at him. “And you know nothing, nothing at all, about how your house usually runs, when people usually eat, and who does what,” he clarified. 

“No? I mean, what do you expect, a chore chart?” 

… 

“I don’t know why we’re friends. Ollie and I have almost never gotten along,” Bruce said to the camera. He scrubbed his hands over his face.  

… 

“I mean. It’s your house. You’ve lived here all your life,” Bruce deadpanned. “I know how my house is run, Ollie. Clark might not know specifics very well, but he’s aware of our traditions and usual meal times. How do you not even know that?” 

“I don’t either,” Roy tossed Bruce a peace sign, Lian propped up on his hip, as he passed by. “But then again, I was moved out for a year in the middle, there, before Lian. And, you know, I’m not head of the household or anything.” 

Ollie glowered at Roy’s retreating form, then turned back to shrug at Bruce. “Maybe ask Emiko? She’s been pretty attentive to the whole household thing.” 

“You want me to ask your sixteen-year-old sister how your house is run?” 

“She’s pretty smart, yeah.” 

… 

“I don’t understand why the Queens are so absentminded,” Bruce muttered. “We have such similar situations. We have the same circles of friends. We run in the same social circles.” He glared broodily off to one side. “How is Ollie like this? How is Roy like this?”  

… 

Roy made a sloppy stack of peanut butter and jelly sammiches, one-handed. 

The camera took its time illustrating Roy’s absentminded peanut-buttering and jellying. 

“Crust on or off, Munchkin?” Roy asked. 

“Twi-angle,” Lian told him. 

Roy nodded, as if that were an answer, and then cut the last sandwich into triangular halves. “Triangle it is," he agreed. “Good choice.” 

Lian poked her fingers into her mouth and absently watched her dad clean up after himself. ”Twi-angle,” she repeated, this time with the added hurdle of her fingers muffling her attempts at enunciating. “Hanks, Daddy.” 

“You’re very welcome, Princess,” Roy said. 

The camera found Bruce again, still in the next room over. He was reading a newspaper, but also clearly paying attention to the young father who happened to be living at his dad’s home, for the time-being. 

… 

“Do I think Roy’s a good dad? From what I've seen, yes. Better than I was when I took Dick in, anyway,” Bruce frowned.  

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Nat said.  

“Oh, no, I’m not offended. I just don’t like thinking about how people might judge Roy for how he’s chosen to raise his daughter. I think he made the right choice, moving back home with her. He had a support network available and he made the best use of it—yeah, I find the Queens relatively flighty and irresponsible, but I’m not talking about Roy’s parenting when I say that.”  

“Do you consider Lian Harper family?” Nat asked.  

“Why would I—” Bruce gave a confused frown, then carefully smoothed it over. A look of suspicion crossed his face briefly.  

“Oh, you don’t know,” Yelena’s voice chimed in. She popped on-camera, briefly, to check something on the front of the camera, then disappeared again.  “Natalia, you might need to run damage control.”  

“Did you not know your son Jason was dating Roy Harper?” Nat asked.  

“How do  you  know?” Bruce asked.  

“He’s here,” Yelena’s voice was practically full of laughter. “He’s been here since before you showed up. He’s been staying here for, like, since before all our set-up began—”  

“El, stop,” Nat said. “I’m sorry about her. Uh. Do you want to step away for a bit?”  

Bruce’s face went carefully blank. “It’s fine.”  

-Wayne Manor-  

Dick slammed the front door behind himself. It echoed through most of the front rooms and jangled the foyer chandelier ominously. “Guys! Guess who’s home!” 

Damian and Tim both leaned back in their seats. Tim groaned, but Damian just contemplated his life choices while staring up at the ceiling. 

Dinah raised her eyebrows at both boys. 

Cass covered her mouth, hiding her silent giggles. 

“He’s going to make us ‘bond,’” Tim said. 

“Guys?!” Dick called. 

He popped his head into the sitting room, grinning. ”There you are! Hey, Dinah. I saw the cameras – wasn't that supposed to be next week?” 

“No, this week,” Dinah said, though there wasn’t really a reason to. She was, quite obviously, already in their home, after all. 

Cass offered another silent giggle. 

“Oh, cool.” Dick nodded, then turned to Tim and Damian. “You guys wanna play cards? Board game? Go swimming? Play HORSE in the gym?” 

Tim sank down in his seat, sighing loudly. 

… 

Dick, clearly unable to sit still in front of the camera, readjusted for the third or fourth time in as many seconds. “They act like they hate it, but they always have fun, when it comes down to actually doing it, ya know? But yeah, that’s a fair assessment – I do tend to bring with me the intent to make them bond. I mean. I just want them to get along!”  

… 

“That’s a yes from Tim,” Dick said, grinning cheekily. ”Dames?” 

“I would sooner gouge my own eyes out, using a spoon,” Damian said darkly. 

“Oh, okay,” Dick said. “Damian’s in, too. Dinah, Clark, you guys wanna come with?” He beamed at the adults in the room. Other adults, though Dick didn’t exactly exude the same sense of responsibility and restraint that Dinah and Clark exuded. 

“Sure,” Clark said. 

“I’d rather not swim,” Dinah said. 

“Swimming’s out, then,” Dick grinned. ”Narrows it down a bit.” Dick turned back to his brothers, glancing between them a few times before he settled on Tim. “Tim, what do you wanna do?” 

“Die,” Tim deadpanned. 

“I can assist with that,” Damian offered. 

“Sounds like you need some endorphins,” Dick said. “Exercise, then. HORSE? It’s the easiest active game, off the top of my head. Unless y’all wanna just go to the exercise room and do things alone... together.” 

“Y’all,” Tim echoed back. ”Spending a lot of time with Wally, lately?” 

“Ya’ll isn’t as much a Missouri thing, according to, like, linguistic maps,” Dick said. 

Tim frowned at him. 

“What?” 

“Why do you know that off the top of your head?” 

“Why don't you?" 

Tim narrowed his eyes. ”That’s fair.” 

Damian looked over at Tim and narrowed his eyes, too. “How is that ‘fair’? The two of you have no sense, not an iota shared between you,” he said. 

“No, no. It’s fair,” Tim glanced back down at his phone. 

Damian looked directly at the camera, nose wrinkled. “This is what I have to cohabit with, and I am expected to refrain from attempts at fratricide or maiming.” 

… 

“Maiming is a hard no,” Dick nodded to the camera.  

“That... is an unusual rule,” Melina noted. ”Did something happen that you had to officially make that a household rule...?”  

Dick nodded again, completely serious. But he didn’t elaborate.  

… 

Clark stood from the couch. “All right, then! Let’s, uh, head for the gym!” 

Dick reached up to tie his hair back. “C’mon Dami, Tim. Let’s go play some ball!” 

Damian slid forward in his seat until his short, little, eight-year-old legs could reach the floor. “This is a fruitless activity,” he announced. “It will achieve nothing but waste of a valuable and irreplaceable resource, that being time.” 

Dinah shook her head fondly and stood. “Bonding activities aren’t a waste of time, Damian.” 

“Be silent, Interloper,” Damian hissed. 

Cass clicked her tongue and shook her head softly at Damian. 

Tim glanced over at Dick, though, waiting for the inevitable correction. He didn’t have to wait long. 

“Damian,” Dick scowled. The cameraman swiveled to catch the expression, and probably caught Melina in the shot, however briefly. Dick was usually pretty bubbly and flighty, in public, so the scowl would be something that people weren’t used to seeing. “We don’t speak like that to guests. Don’t think I won’t sit you in the corner—” 

“You cannot make me!” 

“Damian,” Dick’s scowl darkened. 

Damian glared at him, then dropped his gaze. “Fine.” He turned to Dinah and offered a fist to his sternum, then moved his fist in a small circle against his sternum. It was an apology, albeit in ASL. Damian had a hard time forcing himself to verbalize apologies – the ASL was a step in the right direction, however begrudging Damian always seemed while doing it. 

“It’s fine,” Dinah said. She brought her hand up, palm facing to one side, and tapped her thumb to her sternum, and winked. It was ASL for “fine.” 

Cass hopped to her feet and looked expectantly at Tim, who rolled his eyes and dragged himself to his feet, as well. 

-Queen Residence-  

Bruce knocked on Roy’s door. 

Through the door, he could just hear the overdramatic  “ah! you got me!”  and the giggles of a four-year-old. It was obvious, at least to Bruce, that the voice was Jason’s.  “Did you see that, Roy? She got me! I’m dying again! Foiled by a four-year-old!"  

“Yeah, Jay, I saw,”  Roy laughed. His voice followed his footsteps over to the door. 

Bruce crossed his arms and looked down at the floor, brow furrowed ominously. He shifted his weight and forced himself to take a deep breath. He almost managed to smooth out his expression by the time the door was cracking open. 

Lian’s giggles continued, as well as the sounds of Jason’s playful dramatics. 

“Oh,” Roy said. His smile fell and he glanced away from Bruce. 

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “I was wondering if I could speak to Jason,” he said. 

“Um, hang on,” Roy hesitated, then closed the door. The whispering was probably meant to be too quiet for Bruce to hear, but the worried, high-pitched hiss of Roy’s voice wasn’t hard to decipher. (The audience would probably receive some subtitles, to make it more obvious what was being said.)  “Jay, it’s your dad,”  Roy hissed.    

“He’s not my fucking dad, Harper.”  

“Yes, he is, and he’s really fucking scary and asking to talk with you!”  Roy hissed, more aggressively. His footsteps trailed away from the door. 

… 

Roy ran his hands over his face and shook his head at the camera. “Mm, no. Bruce is fucking scary, sometimes.” He dropped his hands and glanced over at Jason, who was moping next to him in the interview segment. He turned back to the camera. “I know what he seems like, at his, like, galas and stuff? But he’s a scary dude.”  

“He’s a jackass,” Jason muttered.  

… 

Jason groaned, purposely loud enough for Bruce to hear, Bruce was sure.  “Tell him to go the fuck away, Roy,”  Jason said.    

“Um, no? You know your dad scares me—”  

“You’re such a pussy sometimes.”  

Roy gave a startled laugh, much louder than the rest of the conversation.  “And you’re a dick. But that’s really not PC—”  

“Whatever,”  Jason muttered.    

“Just talk to your dad and maybe keep him from castrating me?”  

“He’s not gonna castrate you.”  

“That’s not a guarantee!"  

Jason groaned again and rolled off whatever piece of furniture he was on, probably Roy’s bed, and stomped over to the door. He swung it open. “What the hell do you want, B?” he asked. 

Bruce motioned him along, out of the room. “I just want to talk to you,” he said. 

“It’s none of your business, Old Man. Yeah, don’t think I don’t know that this is you disapproving of my choice in partners. I’m a big boy, Bruce,” Jason didn’t move from his spot, leaned up against the doorframe with the door propped open just enough. 

“Jason—” 

“If it’s about the age difference, know that I don't care," Jason deadpanned. “Age? I’m eighteen, I’ve been legal for two years, in our state and this one. Fact that he has a kid? Love the shit out of her.” He stuttered to a stop, frowning. “And it’s not casual, if that’d be your issue. Not that you’d have any say if it was—” 

… 

“Why do you know the age of consent laws for both your states?” Yelena asked.  

Roy blinked at her, then at the camera. “That’s the responsible thing, isn’t it?”  

“Because I was seventeen and trying to get in his pants, and he was worried about the whole age thing,” Jason leaned back in his chair, not giving the camera any of his attention. “He still told me no. Fuckin’ annoying. He was, like, worried for me n’ shit. Or worried about me, hell if I know.”  

“That, too,” Roy shrugged weakly.  

“Obviously, I won,” Jason sat up to grin his sharp, shark-like grin.  

“Eventually,” Roy muttered.  

… 

“Jason, I’m worried about you,” Bruce intoned. 

“Then fuckin’ stop it! I thought you wanted grandbabies? Suck it up and start throwing gifts n’ shit at Lian or something, instead of being worried because my boyfriend’s a bit older than me,” Jason snapped. 

Bruce frowned, but took a long moment to gather his thoughts before speaking again. “Just. Be careful.” 

“What-the-fuck-ever,” Jason deadpanned. 

“Does Dick know?” 

“Does Dickwad know what?” 

“That one of his friends is dating his younger brother,” Bruce was back to raising his eyebrow, though this time it was to express that he found the non-answer interesting. 

“Oh god. Don’t tell him. You know how he gets,” Jason’s scowl somehow managed to darken even more, which was impressive (given that he’d already summoned up a dark, intense glower for his father, in the first place). “He’s flip out and I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

“He doesn’t, hm?” Bruce glanced past Jason thoughtfully. 

One of the cameramen moved to get a glimpse into the room, as well. Roy was on the bed (off to one side), where he and Lian seemed to be waiting impatiently for Jason’s return. Roy’s room was more akin to an apartment than a room, being a full suite with a bathroom to itself, as well as a room off to either side. 

(The camera hadn’t yet made it into that part of the house, but one of the rooms was Lian’s bedroom and playroom while the other was a small gym and storage space. At one point, though, Roy’s bedroom had been off to the side where Lian’s bedroom was, and the main part of the room was more like a ludicrously sized living room, or something.) 

Roy glanced up at Bruce. 

… 

Roy rubbed at his eye. “Bruce is a lot more mischievous than people give him credit for. And intelligent. Usually, those things are used against Ollie – my dad, whatever – but sometimes... sometimes he‘ll visit hell on someone else. It’s not fun being the target.”  

“You’re not the target,” Jason muttered. “I am.”  

“Yeah, but it’s definitely gonna bite me in the ass,” Roy sighed.   

... 

“Well, Dick’s going to know one way or another,” Bruce mused. He turned back to Jason. ”Do you want to tell him? Or are you hoping to keep this a secret for as long as possible?” 

“Oh, god, don’t tell him,” Jason groaned. 

“Oh no,” Roy echoed behind Jason. 

“Oh no! Oh no!” Lian squealed. She beat her little fists on Roy’s ribs, clearly in play. She clearly didn’t realize that her dad (and dad’s boyfriend) weren’t giving an “oh no” or “oh god” to anything but her playacting. Ahh, to be young and oblivious. 

“I’m not sure how I feel keeping a secret from my son,” Bruce intoned. 

“You’re a filthy liar,” Jason pointed, aggressively, without actually raising anything but his hand to do his aggressive pointing. “You keep secrets all the fucking time and—” Jason eyed the camera and leaned in, hissing more quietly. ”You are so not blackmailing me into doing the communication bullshit with Dickolas.” 

“Please just use his name, Jason.” 

"What? For Dick-in-a-Box? I don’t think so. It’s my right, as shitty middle child, to be as much of a problem for as many people as I can.” Jason crossed his arms. “And you’re not distracting me. Don’t think you are. You so can’t tell him. He’ll flip.” 

“Backflip,” Roy offered. 

“Triple-flip,” Jason nodded. 

“Fwip! Fwip! Fwip!” Lian tacked on. 

“Wait,” Jason turned to look over at Roy and Lian, then walked back over to them, leaving the door ajar behind him. He plucked Lian up off the bed. “Hey, kid, you wanna spend some time with  my  dad? Because he’d  love  to spend time with you.” 

“Are you trying to bribe your dad with my daughter?” Roy asked. 

“Yes, are you trying to bribe me with Roy’s daughter?” Bruce asked. 

Jason took a moment to smother Lian with kisses peppered over her little, squishy, four-year-old face, to her screamy little giggles of pleasure. “Of course,” he said. “She’s basically mine, though. Why shouldn’t she spend time with B?” 

Roy opened his mouth, but then snapped it closed and smiled mushily. “Aww, Jay!” 

“Jayjay!” Lian squealed. 

…    

“I think It's so cute, the way Lian and Jason get along,” Roy said. He turned and leaned in to kiss the side of Jason’s head.  

“And you don’t mind that Jason thinks of Lian as his kid, as well?” Nat asked.  

“No, of course not,” Roy grinned. “I love it. She  is  basically his, as well. We don’t have to be married for that to be true. Hell, if we broke up? I’d still probably be happy to let him play a parental role for her. He’s good at it, she loves him, it works really well.”  

“Not that there’s plans to break up,” Jason interjected.  

“Not even Bruce Wayne can change that,” Roy nodded. “I’m in it for the long haul, Jay.”  

“Good.”  

… 

“So’s that a yes, kiddo? You could make him take you  shopping,”  Jason wheedled. 

Lian gasped and whipped around to face Bruce, “Shopping?!” 

Bruce opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. And then he visibly gave in to what was absolutely a bribe. ”Anything you want, kid,” he said. “Uh, within reason, I suppose?” Bruce glanced at Roy, suddenly consternated. 

“Nothing huge, Baby,” Roy said. 

“Yeah, yeah!” Lian rocked back and forth in Jason’s arms, clearly excited. 

“And not too many things, Kiddo,” Jason added. 

“Course,” Lian nodded. 

Roy smiled, “And be nice.” 

“I’m always nice!” Lian gasped. 

“Yeah, Roy, she’s always nice,” Jason gasped theatrically. 

“Right,” Roy said. He sighed and glanced over at Bruce. ”Please, not too much sugar. And she’s lactose intolerant. If she wants something dairy, she has vanilla-flavoured Lactaid chewables which are—” 

“In her bag. Gotta grab her bag,” Jason muttered to himself. He set Lian down and went over toward Lian’s room, disappearing from sight completely. 

Lian looked lost for about a split second, then squealed and ran over to attack Bruce’s leg. 

Bruce gasped a little and glanced down at her. 

Lian grinned back up at him and latched on like the little monster she was. 

“In her bag, yeah. She knows where they are, and she’s good about reminding people about stuff like that.” Roy nodded to himself. “If she needs the bathroom, don’t worry about taking her into the guys’ room, I do it with her all the time and just wait outside the stall for her.” 

-Wayne Manor-  

No one really asked about the gymnasium that the Wayne Manor apparently had, but Dick turned to one of the nearer cameras with a smile. “This was one of our ballrooms before we retrofitted it to be a gym,” he confided. “It was a big renovation project, sometime between Jason joining the family and Tim joining the family. I bet Bruce had no idea how much use we would get out of it, or how many kids he’d have in here, at a time.” 

Dick trotted away, after that, to fetch basketballs and to hit the switch that brought the ball hoops down from their place, folded up on the ceiling. 

After that, it was game time. 

The cameras gave a montage of a complicated (overcomplicated) game of HORSE (which was ROBIN, instead, for probably-Gotham-related reasons). There was a lot of flipping and shouting and chaos, perpetuated by every one of the kids. Clark was a bit more reserved, but Dinah gave as good as she got. 

(Frankly, they were probably breaking the whole “no ninja crap” rule that Bruce had given on his way out the door.) 

After ROBIN, they played a kids-versus-adults game of basketball, with Dick, Clark, and Dinah on the one team and Cass, Tim, and Damian on the other. Even Damian seemed to be having fun, with that, in spite of being forced on the same team as Tim, who he claimed to dislike to the point of apparent attempts of fratricide. 

…    

“I really enjoyed playing ball with them,” Dinah smiled. “They’re a lot of fun. My family, much like theirs, is a very athletic one. If we’re not moving enough, we’re getting antsy. I feel like it must be the same, here, in Bruce’s house.  

“It’s also nice to see Damian and Tim getting along, no matter how tentative the truce might be.”  

… 

After the game, Dick managed to get everyone to agree to play a game and watch a movie with him. He also announced that he’d be staying for the next week or so, since he had time off from work. “And I’m gonna have Wally over, later, so you guys better play nice,” here Dick frowned specifically at Damian. “Stop trying to throw my best friend out of the house.” 

“If he were merely a friend, I would make no such efforts,” Damian scoffed. “But as a mate, he is not nearly suitable enough for a brother of mine. He is barely adequate. I will not have the likes of that subpar specimen putting hands on my brother in my house!” 

“Aww,” Dick cooed. He ruffled Damian’s hair. 

Damian swatted at him. 

“It’s cute how protective of me you are, but seriously, Dames. Wally’s not going anywhere. Get used to my ‘barely adequate’ boyfriend. Which – rude, by the way?” Dick snorted. “I know you’re coming from a place of love, but you can’t be like that, kiddo.” 

“I am no mere child!” 

“Damian,” Dick gave him a soft look, though a soft look that was almost disappointed. “I love him.” 

Damian stiffened, nose crinkled up. He turned away. “I will consider it,' he muttered. 

Dick hugged him around the neck, cooing once more, “I love you, kiddo. Thanks for trying to keep me safe. And thanks for making an effort. It means the world to me.” 

“Unhand me, Grayson,” Damian muttered. Though he made no move to free himself. 

Dick gave him a last squeeze, then turned back to the others, beaming proudly. “He’s gonna give Walls a chance!” he said. 

“We were right here, we heard,” Tim said. 

Cass nodded, next to him, and dealt Uno cards. 

“I’m proud of you, too, Damian,” Clark said. “I know you don’t value my approval as much as your father’s, or Dick’s, but I want you to know that.” 

Damian scowled through a blush at them. 

“I’m proud of you, too. You’ve come a long way, living with your father. And with Clark, now,” Dinah nodded. “You’re making amazing strides and becoming the young man you were always meant to be. That’s worth the praise.” 

… 

“Of course he deserves the praise,” Dinah laughed. “I know, to an outsider, it seems like we’re praising him for doing the bare minimum, but it’s not like that. He’s gone from trying to ‘take his place’ in the family by getting rid of someone else to actually considering the feelings of his brothers. And that’s amazing.”  

“Was it so bad, when he first arrived?” Melina asked.  

“Oh, worse,” Dinah gave a sad smile. “The other side of his family was... not very familial. He was brought up under harsh expectations and harsher rules. He’s making a lot of progress, and I’m happy to see people noticing it and saying something about it. That boy’s been deprogramming after living in a cult for his formative years—”  

“A cult?” Melina interrupted.  

Dinah laughed. ”It’s not my story to tell, but yes.”  

… 

“Uno probably isn’t a good idea,” Tim muttered. 

“Are you guys competitive?” Dinah asked. 

Tim looked at her with the deadest eyes that a teenager could possibly manage. “You could say that.” 

“Oh, I see,” Dinah smirked. “I guess I’ll have to bring my A-game.” Not that she hadn’t already done that with the basketball and the HORSE, before they’d ever sat down to Uno. “Any house rules?” 

“Plus-fours can be stacked, so can plus-twos, skips, and just about anything else. And, obviously, the person unable to stack one of the negative cards is the person who ends up incurring their negative effects,” Dick listed off. 

“No maiming,” Damian muttered. 

“And no maiming," Dick agreed. ”I mean, you probably don’t need to be told,” he smiled at Dinah, “but we had to make it an official rule. Otherwise, we were going to have attempts at lasting bodily harm at, like, every card game ever. Not just Uno.” 

…  

“Monopoly has been banned from the house,” Tim deadpanned.  

…  

Damian scoffed, “Drake was cheating. I was fully within my rights to exact the appropriate and fitting revenge upon his person.”  

…  

“What? He said that? I was not cheating!” Tim scowled, gripping the armrests on his chair. “He’s just a sore loser!”  

…  

“He was seven at the time!” Dick laughed, incredulously. “And he tried to, like, cut Tim’s hand off? For stealing? It was so out of left-field. And, like, no, not the only incident we had had with him, at that point, but definitely one of the more vibrant issues.”  

…  

“He tried to kill me, once! Like, literally. He was like six. He’d just gotten here and—” Tim cut himself off with and angry scoff. “We’re past that, but just—vibrant? That’s one way to describe the attempted murder!”  

…  

Cassandra laughed into her hands, then started signing.  My little brothers are always entertaining, but sometimes Baby Brother is too intense.    

“Sounds a little more than just ’intense’ to me,” Melina said.  

Cass just shrugged. “We are all... perhaps a little intense,” she confided quietly.  

…  

“I’m still basically always on guard,” Tim muttered. “We’re past the murder attempts, but just—ugh. It’s like he’s always testing me, making sure I’m ‘worthy of the Wayne name’ or some bullshit.”  

…  

Aside from the interview sections, the game itself seemed to go relatively smoothly. It got loud and competitive, but there weren’t any serious arguments. Or attempts on lives. Or attempts to maim. It was all very normal and restrained. 

The cameras brought together another little montage, focusing on the little moments, like Damian and Tim ganging up on Dick with their plus-four cards, or Dinah pulling a third Uno in a row -- to the excited praise of Dick, who was never unhappy to watch someone else win. There were, for the most part, smiles and getting along. 

In the background, Disney movies played peacefully, just background noise to the rounds of Uno, and then Uno Flip, when Uno grew repetitive. And then Dos, because apparently just two Uno variants weren’t enough. 

The Disney, though, was blurred out for copyright reasons, of course. 

“Dinah, you’re amazing at this,” Dick praised. 

“Comes of spending so much time with kids and teenagers,” Dinah said. (It was a reference to the younger heroes, which Dinah helped train, oversee, and debrief, but the cameras obviously wouldn’t know that, and neither would the audience watching the show.) “You get good at these games, or you get creamed.” 

It was obvious, the moment Dick let the immature humour (“creamed") go in favour of commiserating. “I know how that is,” he agreed. (And he was referring both to being a big brother and to helping with the next generation of young heroes.) 

-Queen Residence-  

Lian squealed in her highest pitch, which probably startled all the dogs in a one-mile radius. “It’s so cute!” she turned to show Bruce the turtleneck, which was printed with a skeleton torso and arms. 

“Cute?” Bruce blinked down at her. 

“I wanna wear it wiff a tutu!” Lian nodded. 

“Hm,” Bruce accepted the turtleneck from her and checked the size. “This is a bit too big, chum,” he said. 

Lian pouted. 

“If you want it in this size, that’s fine. Or we can find your size,” Bruce said. 

Lian squealed and latched onto his leg. Again. She’d actually spent much of their time in the store, to that point, attached to his leg and sitting on his foot, as if Bruce were her personal transport. Bruce didn’t mind. He may have had experience with Damian at six, but Lian was a four-year-old that acted like a four-year-old, and that wasn’t an experience Bruce had had. 

“I’m not sure what answer that’s supposed to be,” Bruce said. 

“I want it smaller! Like me!” Lian grinned gappily up at Bruce. She was missing one of her baby teeth. It was a bit early for her to be losing them, but not abnormal. It left her with the absolute cutest gap in her smile. Then again, everything about the kid was “the absolute cutest” it could be. 

(Bruce wasn’t thrilled to have been bribed so easily, but decided that the bribe was worth the time with Lian.) 

… 

“Lian’s a great kid,” Jason grinned. It was the first shot of him without Roy right there with him. ”She’s the best. I’m glad I got to meet her. And, like. I get to be part of her life, and that’s amazing. Fuck—Roy will probably see this interview, and he’ll accuse me of being a mush...”  

…  

“Well,” Roy nodded. “I already know he’s a mush. That’s what happens when your boyfriend makes you lunch for when you’re at work, and leaves fucking notes between the food items. And he does the same thing for Lian, now that she’s been going off to preschool.  

“And, I mean, Jason’s been around more since preschool started for Lian, ya know? He lives in Gotham, across the country! In fucking... New Jersey!” Roy laughed. “But he keeps coming up for a few weeks, maybe a month, and he just. Does lunch, does dinner, spends time with us... he’s family. And I fucking love him.”  

…  

“I’m not a mush,” Jason said, scowling.  

…  

Bruce helped Lian find a smaller skeleton turtleneck – after slyly texting Jason to ask if that would be okay with Roy – and then helped Lian to find a new tutu with which to wear with the skeleton turtleneck. 

(Roy was, of course, perfectly fine with a skeleton turtleneck – he was very laidback, letting Lian like what she wanted to like, and if that was skeletons and glitter? Well, so be it. Lian was a force unto herself and deserved the freedom to explore whatever aesthetics she deemed worth exploring.) 

“I wish my bear could wear bones, too,” Lian chattered. “I have a bear-tutu that Jayjay helped me with! It’s very, very, very,  very  cute. Jayjay helped me sew it n’ put velcro on the back so’s it would stay on my bear. He also made it all... made it all loopy n’ stuff.” 

“Loopy?” Bruce asked. 

“Is like a big scrunchy pocket. Like. The tulle – Jayjay taught me that word! – the tulle’s all folded over, n’ stuff. And we put confettis in it. I wanted lil black star confettis, so Daddy ordered it in the mail! I had to wait a week, but then I had  black star confetti  and Jayjay put it in the tutu! Then he did the thing,” Lian mimed folding the fabric over. “Jayjay watched on YouTube how to make it right and made it perfect. And there’s black star confetti!” 

Bruce nodded patiently. “That sounds very nice,” he said. 

Lian nodded, “Jayjay’s th’ best!” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah!” Lian did a few pirouette attempts. “He dances wiff me, n’ he dances wiff Daddy. N’ if I ask him to help me make things, he sits down and helps me make things! Sometimes he doesn’t know how, but ‘stead of sayin’ no he goes n’ learns how tuh do it. We watch YouTubes n’ stuff!” 

“Do you two make a lot of things together?” Bruce asked. 

Lian grinned up at Bruce again. “Yeah! Daddy helps me make things, too. And sometimes it’s all threes of us! Or jus’ Daddy n’ Jayjay, if it’s too hard, or dangerous, or if I get sleepy and ask real nice to have the thing.” 

“That sounds really nice of them.” 

“For my birfday,” Lian started, “Jayjay n’ Daddy made me armor! Is jus’ styro... styr—um.” 

“Styrofoam?” 

“Yeah! S’ just styrie-foam! But is super duper nice n' has mermaid scales n’ is purple n’ shiny minty green! Then Jayjay let me save him from Daddy, when we played rescue the princess!” 

“Was Jason the princess?” Bruce covered a little smile. 

“Course! We take turns,” Lian nodded seriously. “N’ Daddy n’ Jayjay play that wiff me lots n’ lots. I like that game cuz we can play it anywhere in th’ house. Funnest is the stairs! But we has to be careful, there, so’s no one gets hurt, n’ so’s we’re not in the way.” 

“Oh, of course,” Bruce nodded. 

They actually didn’t have a lot in the cart. Lian was mostly happy to touch things a little, then put hem back carefully. The turtleneck had really only been picked up and put in the cart when Bruce encouraged Lian to find something for him to buy for her. 

Lian continued with her tactile explorations as she chattered, too, mostly grabbing lightly at shirts and sweaters they passed. 

“Do you wanna play rescue th’ princess wiff us?” Lian asked. 

“Oh, me? Jason might not want me to be part of your games,” Bruce said. 

“Oh, well. Roy let’s Grampa Ollie play wiff us,” Lian looked up at Bruce knowingly. “They used to argue lots, but Grampa Ollie played wiff us even then. Because... they want me to have fun!” She cracked her serious look apart to make way for a big grin. “Jayjay’ll let you play, too. ‘Cause Jayjay’s a mush! Daddy said so.” 

“Oh?” Bruce chuckled. 

“Jayjay’s a big, grouchy mush," Lian made an exaggerated version of Jason's grumpy face. "He p’atends he’s mad n' stuff, even if he’s not. Then he gives kisses n’ hugs n’ makes my favourite food!” 

“He’s a good guy,” Bruce murmured. 

Lian did a spin, then stepped up to Bruce and offered her arms in a clear ‘pick me up’ motion. Bruce stopped pushing the cart to pick her up, then adjusted her so he could also push the cart. Lian wiggled happily in his grip, then leaned close and half-covered her mouth as she attempted a whisper. If a bit badly. “Jayjay’s like m’Papa,” she told Bruce. 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah,” Lian wiggled again. “I’m saving it for when Jayjay looks sad, though,” she straightened and gave Bruce a very grown-up self-satisfied look. “Then imma call him Papa. Cuz Daddy’s m’Daddy and Jayjay’s my other daddy, but I talked ‘bout it with Daddy and we decided on Papa.” 

“Oh,” Bruce raised his eyebrows. 

“You say that a lot," Lian giggled. "Oh! And you B! I heared Jayjay says so. So you’re Grampa B! Like Grampa Ollie! Cuz you’re Jayjay’s daddy.” 

“If that’s what you want to call me,” Bruce nodded. 

-Wayne Manor-  

The camera focused in on the freckled redhead that was off to the side, whispering with Dick. Dick had been growing agitated over the course of the conversation, but Melina had told the cameras to leave the two a bit of privacy. Reality TV didn’t have to mean being invasive, she’d said. 

That didn’t stop the cameras from catching the wild little hand motions that Wally (because, of course, it  was  Wally) and Dick made in the middle of their conversation. It also didn’t stop the cameras from catching and zoning in on what looked like Dick about to blow a gasket. 

The calm and near-silence went on for a bit, except for the hissed conversation between Wally and Dick. Then— 

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him!” Dick shouted. 

“Dude,” Wally hissed. He laughed, though. 

“I’m gonna kill him! Then I’m gonna bring him back and kill him again!” Dick professed. 

“What happened?” Tim called over. 

Clark didn’t have to ask, though he feigned interest. (Obviously, no one watching who didn’t already know, previously, knew that Clark had superhearing.) 

“Roy and Jason are sleeping together!” Dick exclaimed. 

Tim looked at Dick blankly. “Dick,” he started. Then he snapped his mouth shut and made a face. 

“What? ‘Dick’ what, Tim?” Dick demanded. 

“The failure began his dalliance with the addict almost a year hence,” Damian scoffed. 

“A year?” Dick gasped. Then he stopped and took a moment to absorb what Damian had actually said. His anger turned instead to disappointment. “Damian,” he started. 

“You’re gonna get it,” Tim muttered under his breath. 

Damian scoffed. 

Dinah frowned, too, though her frown was more sad than disappointed or angry. “Damian.” she said, voice strong. “That is my son you are referring to. I don’t appreciate your derogatory reference of his past.” 

“Roy is stronger than most of us,” Dick tacked on. “He’s clean now, and he’s been clean since shortly after Lian came into his life. Don’t you  ever  call him that, again, Damian. I mean it.” His disappointment turned into proper anger for a moment, but he took a centering breath to push the anger down. “I mean it,” he repeated. 

Damian stewed quietly, eyes fixed on his lap. 

There was a thick silence in the room, then Tim cleared his throat. “But he’s right—I mean, not with the name calling. I—I just. He’s right about the time frame,” Tim sort of... held his phone up, like a barrier between himself and Dick. “Jason and Roy’ve been a thing for, like, a year.” 

“A year?!” Dick ran his hands through his hair. “A whole year?!” 

…    

“How did I miss that?” Dick muttered. “My best friend. And my brother?” He shook his head and muttered to himself in angry-sounding Romani. “And how the hell did Tim and Damian find out? Why didn’t they tell me?!”  

“Do you think, maybe,” Melina started.  

“Of course I know why,” Dick cut her off, then shrunk into his chair. “Oh, sorry, that was—that was so rude!”  

“It’s okay,” Mel said.  

“No, no. Just because I’m upset doesn’t give me a right to be like that!”  

“I accept your apology,” Mel’s voice contained a fond smile.  

…   

“A whole year,” Dick muttered. “I’m gonna call him—” 

Wally managed to nab Dick’s phone in the time between Dick retrieving it from his pocket and getting it up to his eyeline, so that he could dial. “Yeah, maybe don’t,” Wally laughed nervously. 

“Wally,” Dick turned to him, scowling. 

Wally tucked Dick’s phone away into his own back pocket. “Dude, you need a bit of time before I’m gonna let you go around trying to burn bridges. Besides,” Wally gave him a long, knowing look. “You know Jason’s more than old enough to be making his own decisions.” 

“Jason is still my brother! My first brother, my little brother—!” 

“And even your little brother has to grow up at some point. Besides, you never complain about Tim’s boyfriend—” 

“Kon’s so polite,” Dick interrupted. 

Wally raised his eyebrows. “Which Kon are you dealing with all the time?” 

“The one that respects Alfred and fears B,” Dick crossed his arms and frowned a little. “And is intimidated by the original side-kicks. Why?” 

“Because, from the fact that you knew exactly what types of interactions to reference, you obviously know that he also has anger issues, a rebellious streak, and, uh. And himbo energy,” Wally said. 

“He is a himbo,” Tim sighed. 

“And, I mean. Age difference, much?” Wally asked. 

“Kon is sixteen!” Tim glanced over. “He’s sixteen. I’m fifteen. No age difference. None at all. I mean, the one year is an age difference, but one year is kind of negligible in the grand scheme of things. What do you mean age difference?” Tim gave an entirely unconvincing, nervous laugh. 

(Obviously, there was no way that the cameras would know that Conner was a clone and that he’d been forced on an accelerated growth schedule until he  looked  like a teenager – the kid was actually three, so the age difference was actually twelve years, and Tim was the older party in the relationship. And, yeah, that brought up some moral quandaries, but it really was different, given mental maturity and physical maturation and, you know, the clone thing. Accelerated growth clone thing.) 

(God, the moral quandaries had been a bit much, at first, actually. Some of the Justice League wanted to take his age literally, and therefore considered him a toddler. That was obviously not going to fly with Clark, Kon, Tim, or anyone who actually knew Kon. But yeah. Moral quandaries. Not fun.) 

“Right,” Wally said slowly. He turned back to Dick. “Kon is sixteen.” 

“Kon is sixteen,” Dick echoed. 

The room got very quiet, again. Awkwardly quiet. 

...  

“Do you think that, perhaps, your brothers failed to inform you not due to any sleight against you, but because of how they felt you might react?”  

“Oh, of course! At least, that makes sense for Tim,” Dick scrubbed his hands over his face. “I just. That’s my little brother. I’m so angry—”  

“Is Jason not an adult?” Mel asked.  

Dick sighed into his hands. “I am no less disappointed just because he happens to be the age of majority,” he muttered. “I mean, I’m aware I’m being silly, I’m just. I’m disappointed, ya know?”  

… 

“So,” Wally leaned back on his heels and glanced around at the other people in the room. ”Hey, Dinah. Hey, Clark. How’s it going? I mean, outside of the on-camera meltdown we just gifted reality TV with – can't wait to see  that  as a gif set.” 

Dick groaned and dropped his face into his hands as, apparently, he remembered that, yeah, the cameras absolutely were recording and that absolutely was going to be memed, as soon as the episode aired. “I hate my life,” he mumbled into his palms. 

Wally rubbed his back. “No, you don’t.” 

“Right now, I do,” Dick disagreed. 

Wally chuckled. “I know the perfect cure. An overcomplicated game of chicken, with pool noodles!” 

Dick peeked over his hands to give Wally an incredulous, exasperated, and undeniably fond look. “Chicken with pool noodles,” he echoed. He glanced back at the other occupants of the room. “Timmy, you should call Steph if we’re going to play pool chicken.” 

“She's here,” Tim said, looking down at his phone, still. “Can I invite Kon? He was here, yesterday, but had to, like—” (Obviously, Tim couldn’t say that Kon had gone back to Kansas after his short visit, the day before, even though that was exactly what happened.) “Um. He had to, like, go help a mutual friend for a bit. But he could come back over?” 

“He could bring Jon,” Clark put in. 

Damian straightened in his seat, his pout suddenly forgotten. 

“And Steph’s already here,” Dick hummed. “A game of besties and boyfriends?” he asked. 

“I will get Steph,” Cass jumped up from her spot. 

The cameras could be forgiven for forgetting to give Cass a bit more screen time, as she’d been pretty quiet for the entirety of the last three exchanges (the Roy thing, the Kon thing, and the introduction of pool chicken to the conversation). But they caught her fleeing the room, beaming. 

“Are they together yet?” Dick whispered. 

Everyone in the room shook their heads. Except Dinah, who just smiled around at the family shenanigans she was graciously being allowed to be privy to. 

“Damn, they'd be such a power couple," Dick murmured. 

“I’ve been saying that for, like, a year,” Tim agreed. 

“I do not understand what a ’power couple' would be, nor do I see what it would entail. However, given the connotations of the word ‘power,’ I am going to elect to believe that Father’s dalliance with the...” Damian eyed the cameras, and then Clark. “With the journalist,” he said, instead of whatever he’d initially thought. “Father’s dalliance with the journalist should, theoretically, fall under such a categorization of relationships. Yes? Or have I misunderstood, once more, the ludicrous intricacies of the English language?” 

“No, no, that sounds about right,” Dick said. Beside him, Wally nodded in agreement. 

-Queen Residence-  

Bruce sighed at the camera. “Have I been avoiding Ollie? No.”  

…  

The camera followed Bruce as he stepped out of the room and quickly around the corner. Coincidentally, Oliver Queen stepped into the other room, humming and oblivious and none the wiser about Bruce’s previous presence in the room. 

…  

“I don’t have any reason to avoid him,” Bruce shrugged.  

… 

The camera cut away to Bruce literally hiding behind a door while Oliver passed by in the open doorway. As per usual, Ollie seemed blithe and oblivious, though he was probably playing it up a bit for the cameras. 

Bruce glared, very obviously, at the cameraman and motioned for them to look like they weren’t paying attention to him. The cameraman apparently obeyed in time to put attention on Ollie, instead. Ollie who had taken a step back to frown confusedly at said cameraman. 

“You good?” Ollie asked. 

“Oh, yes yes, of course,” the cameraman said. 

Yelena showed up in the doorway, next to Ollie, and pointed at the cameraman. “Alexei, you slacker. Are you hiding again?” 

“Yelena! My beautiful daughter—!” the cameraman responded. 

“I’m sorry, ‘Alex’ I mean,” Yelena rolled her eyes. “Get back to work, would you? I’m not going to let you make the rest of us look bad!” and she disappeared from the doorway, leaving a confused, almost alarmed, Ollie in her wake. 

“Alex, then,” Ollie said slowly. “You’re good?” he asked again. 

“Ah, yes. Daughters, you see? She is just like that,” ‘Alex’ said. He had a relatively noticable Russian accent (though, actually, the longer he was on the set for the Trading Spouses episode, the less and less noticeable the accent got). “Yelena is, perhaps, a little harder on me – as is her right. But yet, yes, I am good. Thank you!” 

Ollie left and the cameraman refocused on Bruce, who was looking at him like he were a complete and total idiot. If one were to ask Yelena, she would probably say that she thought Alex (or Alexei or whatever) probably deserved it, if not for what he was acting like in the moment, then for what he was usually like. 

…  

“You hid behind a door at least twice, during your stay, when you could have just said a ’hi’ in passing to Ollie," Nat pointed out.  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Bruce responded. He looked at the camera, dead-on, with an entirely serious expression, even though the previous clip meant that absolutely everyone knew that he was lying.  

Somehow, the look was almost convincing, anyway.  

… 

“Ollie’s coming,” Emiko whispered. 

Bruce, who had been holding Robert, immediately passed the baby off to Emiko – who was very pleased to receive him – and then disappeared out one door, silently. 

Ollie walked into the room a moment later. “Emi, have you seen Bruce anywhere? I swear I just haven’t been able to find him, today. I mean, I know it’s a mansion, but this is ridiculous!” 

Emiko pointed Ollie in the wrong direction. “I think he went that way, earlier. But I can’t be sure. Sorry.” She smiled up at him, bright and innocent. 

Ollie took a moment to stare her down, eyes narrowed significantly. 

Emiko met his gaze steadily, her smile never wavering. 

“Why don’t I believe you?” Ollie asked. 

“I feel like that is an esoteric question, best asked of oneself than of one’s little sister,” Emiko said. 

(Ollie didn’t know where she’d learned to be such a little shit but—okay, actually. No. That was a lie. He knew exactly where Emiko learned to be such a little shit. She learned it from Roy, Cissie, Mia, and Conner, all of whom lived to cause Ollie grief, even if they weren’t directly in contact with him. Case and point: Emiko learning how to be a little shit of extremely high caliber just in time for Mia moving away to college.) 

Ollie sighed and went in the direction Emiko indicated. 

Emiko, baby Robert in hand, winked at the nearest camera. 

…  

“Have you even said anything to him since the first day?” Nat asked.  

Bruce leaned back and gave the ceiling a long, thoughtful look. “I feel like I must have,” he said.  

Again, the audience would know that he hadn’t. Nat already had to have known that he hadn’t, too, being as involved in the filming as she was. “Do you plan to talk to him at all?” Nat asked.  

“Planned conversations aren’t really my forte,” Bruce smiled off-camera, probably at Nat.  

-Wayne Manor-  

There was a montage of pool shenanigans (apparently pool chicken was a free-for-all kind of endeavour that included lots of alliances, backstabbing, underhanded tricks, and use of any and all soft pool toys in order to try and knock over other chicken players), and then the montage settled into a scene of everyone drying off after getting out of the pool. 

“That was nice,” Dick grinned. 

“Speak for yourself,” Dinah scoffed. “If I had known there would be tidal waves in your little game, I would have stayed inside.” She spoke wryly, but wasn’t very wet or very upset, really. Just amused. That seemed to be her permanent emotion while staying with the Waynes. 

“Oh, you think you had the worst of it?” Clark laughed. He was soaked thanks to cleverly aimed splashes over to his side of the pool patio. Like, really and truly soaked. 

“Pool's always a danger zone,” Dick grinned. 

“Yeah,” Jon hopped over and squeezed his dad into a sopping wet hug. ”Pool’s always a danger zone! If you don’t get soaked, you either have some kind of immunity, like Miss Dinah, or you’re not playing the game right.” 

“What game?” Clark laughed. In spite of how wet Jon was, he wrapped him in a brief hug. 

“The game in which you exist in the vicinity of a pool and the denizens of the pool encumber you with water,” Damian offered. He took Jon by the hand – a cute little eight-year-old gesture toward his equally cute, little nine-year-old friend – and began to lead him away. ”It is the time of day best suited to the enjoyment of a ‘snack,’ which Grayson has offered me for my success in refraining from maiming anyone while in the pool.” 

“Ooh, what kind of snack?” Jon asked. 

“We shall have to pester Grayson for the details of the repast,” Damian said. He tried to look down his nose at Jon, but it was too obvious that he was fond of his friend and the look wasn’t effective. 

-Queen Residence-  

Finally.  Finally.  

Ollie and Bruce managed to actually be in the same room at the same time. Even if it was near the end of the thing. 

“So,” Ollie said. 

Bruce grunted. He’d been verbose, bordering on eloquent, for the entirety of the time he was at the Queen residence. But it seemed that merely sharing in the same oxygen as Oliver really took something out of him. 

Ollie shifted uncomfortably and glance at the rest of the table. 

Part of the reason Bruce was in such a mood, probably, was because it was a proper family dinner, with Jason and Roy sitting there and being a part of things and, basically, reminding Bruce that Jason was not only dating someone five years older than him (and Jason was just eighteen!), but also dating one of Oliver Queen’s family members. Their relationship, Roy and Jason’s that is, had the power to eventually tie the two families together, and Bruce dreaded that with every fiber of his being. (Not all of which could be read in the footage, but it was still pretty obvious that Bruce was brooding over something.) 

…  

Ollie sighed, his avoiding the camera and both Nat and Yelena.  

“You’re not surprised at how much Bruce Wayne has avoided you?” Yelena asked.  

“Oh, no, not at all,” Ollie glanced over with a smirk.  

“How did he manage to avoid you so thoroughly?” Nat asked.  

“Oh, Bruce just has his ways, honestly,” Ollie snorted. “Ask the press. I mean, sure they get their sound bites and interviews, but if Bruce doesn’t feel like talking,” Ollie clicked his tongue and snorted again, “well, then Bruce isn’t talking.”  

… 

“Pass the peas,” Jason said. 

For a moment, the table acted like a normal dinner table, getting the bowl of peas all the way around to Jason. Then Jason dished peas out to Robert and Lian, in their respective high chairs. 

(Lian was obviously old enough to progress out of her high chair and to a booster, but the family had so far found it more convenient to keep her in the high chair, at least until she properly outgrew it. If nothing else, the high chair helped significantly contain the mess Lian made.) 

After the peas were passed, more of the dinner items were also passed around, albeit with a weird, sullen silence. 

Jason and Roy looked at each other, neither very impressed. Jason then turned back to the table and leaned forward slightly in his seat. “Emiko, how was your day?” he asked. “You had a date, right? Did your datemate behave or should someone be sharpening the pitchforks, kid?” 

Emiko beamed over at him. ”I had fun,” she said. 

“Good. And they were kind? Polite?” Jason asked. 

Emiko smiled so hard that her eyes were nearly closed. “Oh, yes. Very kind. Very polite.” 

“Oh?” Roy picked up the thread of conversation. “They were friendly, then? How friendly? I won’t have someone—” Roy paused and made a face, glancing at Bruce. “Well,” he glanced back at Emiko. ”You can handle yourself, but know you can tell me if you need anything, kay?” 

“Of course, little nephew," Emiko joked. 

Conner (he’d only been back maybe half the day) choked on his bite of food. ”Little nephew,” he wheezed. “You don’t have little nephews, Emi. Except, like, Robert. And he’s also your brother.” 

…  

“Uh-uh,” Ollie shook his head. ”I'm not touching that one. It’s complicated, man, and just doesn’t bear breaking down for the sake of Reality TV.”  

“Fair enough,” Nat said.  

… 

“You’re all my little nephews and nieces!” Emiko claimed. “Roy, Cissie, Mia, and You, Conner. All of you. And I am your benevolent aunt.” 

“Benevolent,” Roy snorted. 

“Yeah, that one’s a bit far-fetched, Emi,” Conner said. 

“I am benevolent! And wise!” Emiko said. 

Bruce politely covered his mouth, as he was chewing, and hid his chuckle behind said hand. 

“Uh, Em?" Ollie grinned over at her. 

“I am!" Emiko said, a bit louder. 

Lian joined in the amusement, then reached over to tap her two-year-old uncle, Robert. “Emi’s been a violent n’ wise,” she said. 

“Pffah,” Robert chortled. “Emi, Emi!” 

“Yeah, Emi,” Lian agreed. 

“Benevolent,” Jason offered. 

“Benevy-lent,” Lian echoed. 

Jason nodded at her. “Close enough.” 

-Dinah-  

Melina adjusted the camera slightly, making sure Dinah was properly in-focus. ”How did you like your stay with the Waynes?”  

“Oh, it’s a very full house. Very loving, too, however hard Damian tries to hide that he does, in fact, love and value his siblings. And I didn’t have nearly as much time with Wally as I would have liked, but I can see that he’s become a permanent fixture in their, family, too.”  

“And you knew Wally West, before, yes?” Mel asked.  

“Oh, of course. For the most part, the circles we run in, Ollie and Bruce and the rest of us, might seem like a ‘rich people’ kind of scene, but it’s a bit more than that shallow definition encompasses. Barry Allen, Wally’s uncle, is a family friend. I’ve known Wally – as has Bruce and Ollie – since he was, oh, thirteen, I think?  

“Our families might be spread across the country, all in different States, but the connections were made a long time ago, and they’re strong enough to last through such distances. In fact, I’m pretty sure our mutual friend group was how Dick even met Wally, in the first place.”  

“And Dick Grayson?”  

“I’ve known him a long time. As long as I’ve known Wally, at least. They were best friends almost all that time, too, you know,” Dinah’s smile crinkled fondly around their eyes. “It took them a long time to realize that they were it for each other, but we’re all so happy they realized. Which isn't to speak down about any of their exes, mind you. We don’t, we being the lot of our friend group, we don’t espouse the idea of breaking off all contact and losing relationships over a failed dating tenure.”  

“Then Dick Grayson is friends with his exes?”  

“Of course,” Dinah nodded. “And friends with Wally’s exes. And Wally’s friends with his exes and Dick’s exes. Lack of success in a romantic endeavour should never be the sole reason for complete loss of an otherwise valuable relationship. The boys know this.”  

“I like that,” Melina’s voice smiled. “What about the next youngest?”  

“Jason is the next-youngest. He, however, is probably in Washington,” Dinah chuckled. “Which you may have gathered from the fallout of Wally carrying news about Jason and Roy dating.”  

“How do you feel about that particular relationship?” Mel asked.  

“I wish they’d waited a bit longer. Jason is very young,” Dinah shrugged. ”But, ultimately, it’s not my choice. And they really love each other. Who am I to try and stand between them if there’s nothing wrong?”  

“You seem very...”  

“Zen?” Dinah offered. She chuckled. “Some things in life just aren’t worth being upset over, in my opinion. Roy falling for someone? Someone who respects him, doesn’t hold his mistakes over him, and who’s fallen for him in return? That isn’t my place to get in the middle of.”  

“Yes, I find it admirable. Though, I must admit, my daughters have already claimed that I am too ‘zen’ myself,” Mel chuckled. “And they may be right.”  

Dinah chuckled with her.  

“How about Tim? Damian?”  

“Oh, I love them to bits. I wish they weren’t always so at each other’s throats, but I have seen them growing, over the time Damian has been with Bruce, too, so I know that their sense of mutual respect is growing and their violence has been shrinking in frequency.”  

“I dread to think of the beginning of their relationship.”  

“It wasn’t pretty,” Dinah laughed. “I may not have first-hand knowledge of the event, but I’ve heard enough, I think, to know that I don’t regret being in the middle of it.”  

“And, lastly – among the kids – we have Jon and Conner, yes?”  

Dinah nodded serenely. “They’re good boys. Conner has a rebellious streak, though I’m sure it wasn’t obvious in the time he’s been here. He’s very good and polite when he needs to be, but he’s a hellion when he’s no longer under anyone’s oversight. And Jon likes to cause trouble. He comes off as a little ray of sunshine, I know, but he really is an adorable little troublemaker.”  

“And, of course, how do you feel about Clark? Or his relationship with Bruce Wayne?” Mel asked.  

“Clark’s great. I’ve known him since before he was married to his now ex-wife, and he’s never been anything but extraordinary. He’s a hard worker, he loves with his whole heart... Clark is exactly the kind of person that could, one can hope, balance Bruce out.”  

-Bruce-  

“Ollie is…” Bruce sighed and shook his head. “We don’t get along, usually.”  

“Do you dislike him?” Nat asked.  

“Sometimes,” Bruce cracked a smile. “However, I believe that it’s more a case of a bad mix, personality-wise. We can get along, fine, but only in small doses.”  

“Is that why you were avoiding him?” Yelena asked.  

“El.”  

“Nat,” Yelena scoffed. “Some on, it’s a fair question.”  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bruce said pleasantly. He smiled to the side of the camera, at either Nat or Yelena. “Avoid Ollie? I don't have a reason to avoid Ollie. I’m sure you’re mistaken, though I apologize if I’ve given the impression that I'm trying to avoid him.”  

Yelena scoffed, the noise small and full of disbelief, but they’d tried this line of questioning before, to no avail.  

“What do you think of Roy?” Nat asked.  

“He’s a better father than a lot of us give him credit for,” Bruce said. “Though, for his sake, I hope he does right by Jason.”  

“Do you plan retaliation if he does not?” Yelena asked.  

Bruce scoffed, then chuckled softly. “I don’t need to plan anything. Crossing Jason is never a good idea, you see. And he’s changed and grown a lot, yes, but that doesn’t make him any less likely to defend himself or others, should he deem it necessary. I hope, for Roy’s sake, he doesn’t cross Jason.”  

“Do you approve of Jason and Roy’s relationship, after having seen how they interact?” Nat asked.  

“Hah, no comment,” Bruce gave the camera a wry grin. “I can’t insinuate myself into my son’s relationships, in good conscience, but I don’t necessarily have to endorse his relationships, either.”  

“That is a comment,” Yelena muttered, then gave a soft grunt as she was (probably) elbowed.  

“What about Conner?” Nat asked.  

“He wasn’t around as much as the others were, but from what I could tell, Conner Hawke has grown into a responsible, gracious young man, mature in ways that I don’t think Ollie has ever been. Dinah has clearly had a good influence on him, and it’s obvious. Ollie and Dinah should both be very proud of Conner.”  

“That’s sweet. What about Emiko?”  

“Oliver’s sister,” Bruce nodded to himself. “Emiko Queen. I’ve never known her very well, either, but she seems to be a good egg. She’s being a bit spoiled by her siblings – with the way she's learning their bad habits and such – but she’s a pleasure to be around. And she’s wonderful with Robert.”  

“And the two youngest children in the clan? What do you think of Lian and baby Robert?” Nat asked.  

“Beautiful children, both of them. Robert is two, so I can’t say that there’s anything overly negative that would be a valid observation. He cries, but all small children so, yes? He makes messes and doesn’t usually clean up after himself, but that’s another trait of small children, yes?”  

“Of course. And Lian?” Nat asked.  

“I look forward to seeing more of her, if Jason is as serious about Roy as he seems,” Bruce smiled softly. “She’s beautiful, eccentric, and lively. I’d find a way to give her the world if she wanted it, but she’s of the sort that would never ask for something like that. She’s only four, so she shouldn’t be as discerning as she is, in my opinion, but she knows how to make the best of what she has, and she doesn’t want everything, the way other kids seem to. I love her to bits.”  

-Wayne Residence-   

“I’m heading home in the next hour or two,” Dinah said. 

“Oh, gee, already?” Clark glanced up from his laptop. 

“Yes, of course. It’s been lovely – and I’ll see you all soon, I’m sure – but it’s time I headed home. I miss my kids.” Dinah offered Clark a soft smile, then turned to include the kids (and Wally) in on her smile, as well. “We should all get together, sometime.” 

“Oh, totally!” Dick hopped up and went over to hug Dinah. “I’m still pissed as  fuck  at Roy, but he can come, too, if we do the whole family thing. Yeah?” 

“That's gracious of you," Dinah squeezed him back, then opened her arms to receive a ball of Cassandra, too. She hugged Dick and Cassandra, both, close. Steph materialized to turn it into a proper group hug, then left again. She wasn’t camera shy, necessarily, but seemed to have machinations to see to, elsewhere in the Manor. 

“And Tim, Damian? I don’t suppose I get hugs from the two of you?” Dinah released her hold on Dick and Cass. 

Tim visibly debated whether or not he wanted to give that hug, then stood from his seat to go over and offer Dinah a side-hug. “Thanks for being cool about Kon,” he muttered. 

“Did you think I wouldn't be?" Dinah asked, just as quiet. 

“No, but it was a relief, anyway.” Tim stepped back and smiled, shrugging. 

Dinah moved over to Damian and offered a handshake. ” I’ll see you, Damian. You keep working on yourself, and your art. You’re doing an amazing job and I’m proud of you. I hope you hear that a lot, because it’s true.” 

Damian scoffed, but his ears darkened considerably, then he reached out to shake Dinah’s hand curtly. “Of course,” he said. He tried to sound haughty, but came off as younger and more insecure than haughty or proud. 

Finally, Dinah hugged the Kent part of the family. Jon and Clark were happy to group-hug Dinah together, but Tim had to prod Kon a few times for Kon to notice that a Kent family group hug was even going on, then Kon was over with them, joining in. Kon wasn’t necessarily the warmest or most affectionate person in the world, but he loved to show affection when he was comfortable with someone. Usually, that was Tim. 

“All right,” Dinah propped her hands on her hips. “I’m going to finish packing up, then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

-Queen Residence-  

Bruce looked over his things, taking a mental stock of the bags and the items within. Maybe he was jumping the gun a bit, being ready so quickly, but he honestly didn’t want to linger any longer than he had to. And, no, for once it wasn’t because he was sharing a roof with Oliver Queen. Rather, he missed his kids and – okay, no – it wouldn’t make the plane get him back to New Jersey any faster, the whole “being ready to go as soon as possible” thing, but it helped him to stem the jittery undercurrent in him, the drive to leave right away and see his kids as soon as possible. 

Hell, he even missed Wally. 

That one was weird. Bruce had never loved the idea of the meta being part of his household, but somewhere down the line... 

Okay, maybe Bruce had a bit of an adopting problem, after all, come to think of it, because Wally had crept right in, there, and become family at some point. Bruce wasn’t even necessarily sure when it would have happened. 

(Bruce also didn’t  not  like the idea of Wally being with Dick, mind you – it had nothing to do with Bruce disliking Wally as a person, or thinking that Dick didn’t have a good grasp of who would make a good partner for him. It was just that erroneous idea, in part, that no one could really be worth one of Bruce’s kids...) 

“Leaving so quickly, huh?” Ollie cut in. 

“In a few hours,” Bruce nodded. He turned to Ollie, who had Robert in one arm and Lian in the other. He looked the part of a happy father and grandfather. That, right there, was part of what Bruce missed. Even though one of his sons had been there, the whole time. 

He missed his kids. 

He missed his family. 

He missed Clark. 

And, god, when did he become such a sap, anyway? 

“Not before breakfast, I hope?” Ollie asked. “Me n’ Emi are making waffles.” 

Bruce snorted and cracked a smile. “No, not before breakfast, Queen. Though the prospect of eating somethign made by your hand does tempt me to leave that much sooner and get a breakfast elsewhere.” 

“You wound me,” Ollie gasped. 

Lian giggled in his one arm. Robert echoed her with his own, babyish giggles, from Ollie’s other arm. 

“I’ve had your chili, Oliver,” Bruce deadpanned. 

“I make the best chili,” Ollie said. 

Lian squirmed in his grip and dropped to the floor. ”Grampa B!” she squealed. She tromped her way down from the landing Oliver had settled on, then threw herself at Bruce’s leg. She smiled up at him. “Guess what!” 

“What, Pumpkin?” Bruce glanced down at her. 

“I’m goin’ wiff you!” Lian squealed and curled tighter around Bruce’s leg. 

Bruce raised an eyebrow down at her, then looked up at Oliver with the same look fixed to his face. “She’s going home with me?” he asked. 

“I’m not her guardian, I have no idea what’s up with her itinerary,” Ollie said. ”But I may,  may,  have heard Roy and Jason talking about visiting the other coast. Dunno if they’re actually leaving aroudn the same time as you, but that might be what she means.” Ollie shifted Robert in his arm, then started back up the stairs. “I'll collect the others for breakfast.” 

-- 

“What's it to ya, old man? So we’re headed to New Jersey on the same plane. That doesn’t mean it has anything to do with you, got it?!” Jason stabbed his waffled viciously. 

Beside him, Roy rolled his eyes. He signed, just out of Jason’s peripheral vision,  “He wants to make sure Dick won’t murder me, in person,”  he signed.  “Lian is, naturally, the perfect distraction.”   

“Ah, I see,” Bruce said. 

Jason narrowed his eyes at Bruce, then turned to glare at Roy. “Are you talking to him?” 

“What? No, never,” Roy grinned. 

“I’m glad you value Dick’s opinion enough to want to discuss the possible issues with him, in person,” Bruce said. 

“There is no issue! I’m an adult,” Jason scoffed. He hesitated, then sighed. “But,” he muttered. “But Goldie n’ Roy are friends and I figured it wasn’t worth putting that in jeopardy to just ignore everything and carry on as I am. So. Truce. Or whatever.” 

Roy leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re secretly a mush.” 

“Lies and motherfucking libel,” Jason muttered. 

Lian glanced over and mouthed the New Word to herself, then nodded and went back to her waffle bits. Bruce didn’t miss the moment, but decided against pointing out the possible dangers of swearing around a four-year-old. Roy probably had first-hand knowledge of how that usually turned out, anyway. 

Bruce cleared his throat and turned to the table as a whole, “I want to say a proper goodbye to all of you,” he said. ”It has been an interesting two weeks in your house, most of which was honestly enjoyable. The rest of which was the effect of being near Oliver for an extended period of time.” 

Oliver, instead of being offended, laughed. 

“That’s a mood,” Roy muttered. 

“Roy,” Bruce turned to him. “You’re a good dad and I want to make sure I actually say it.” 

“Even if he’s fucking your son?” Jason asked, too-casual. 

Bruce gave Jason a tired look. “I don’t see what that has to do with parenting. But yes. Even though he’s with my son. I wish there wasn’t so much of an age difference, or that you waited until you were a bit older, but I have to respect that you’re an adult and able to make your own decisions.” 

Jason gave him a bewildered look. ”Uh.” 

“Thanks, B,” Roy put in. ”It... actually means a lot, to me. Especially since you know the worst that I got.” 

“Everyone has a past,” Bruce shrugged. He turned, next, to Conner. “Conner. We didn’t spend a lot of time together, but I'm beyond relieved to note that you clearly take after Dinah. You’re very level-headed and mature, when you need to be, though I think you still know how to have a good time. That’s a valuable skill, right there.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Conner set his fork down and blinked owlishly back at Bruce. 

Bruce nodded and turned to Emiko. “Emi,” he smiled at her. “You’re turning into a wonderful young woman, strong without sacrificing kindness. I see that you’re adopting some of the unsavoury habits of your siblings, but teenagers all need some outlets, and casuing mild mischief is hardly the worst outlet you could have chosen.” 

“Well,” Emiko pouted. “Now I feel bad about the whoopie cushion incident...” 

“All in good fun,” Bruce waved her off. 

“Oh, it’s ‘all in good fun’ when Emi does it, but if I do it it’s ‘stop sabotaging my car, Jason’ and ‘that’s not safe, Jason,’” Jason joked. Bruce ignored him. 

“Robert,” Bruce said. “It’s been a pleasure.” He reached over to shake the two-year-old's grubby little hand (Robert looked at their joined hands, then Bruce’s face, confusedly). “You are, next to your niece, Lian, the best of the Queens.” 

“Amen,” Ollie laughed. 

-Queen Residence, Dinah-  

Dinah took a meditative breath, smiling softly as she stood outside her front door. Then she stepped forward and rang her own doorbell. She had a key and could, obviously, enter on her own, but she liked the thrill of summoning part of her family to her, especially after half a month without them. 

Emiko flung the door open. “Aunt Dinah!” she shouted. 

“Emi!” Dinah dragged her into a hug and swung her around. 

“Dinah’s home!” Conner shouted up the stairs. He tromped down them, himself. “Dinah!” he flung himself into her hug with Emi, squishing both his aunt and his stepmom. 

“Conner!” Dinah laughed. She didn’t expect to feel her eyes getting all wet in the middle of the joyful greeting, but there she was, squeezing two of her favourite people in the world.  

“Jason n’ Roy n’ Lian left with Bruce,” Emiko said. 

“I know,” Dinah chuckled. “Roy texted me to see if it was okay, since he knew it would mean not seeing me for that much longer. And of course it’s okay. Good on them for deciding to make right the whole secret part of their relationship.” Dinah finally released the two of them. “Now. Where are Ollie and Robert?” 

“Here!" Ollie shouted. “Here. I’m here,” he skidded around the corner and started down the stairs. Even in his hurry, though, he put a hand on the railing so as to make the trip down the stairs that much safer for Robert, cradled in his arms. 

Robert glanced over and saw Dinah. He lit up. “Da-nah!” he squealed. “Da-nah! Da-nah!” he tried to squirm out of Ollie’s arms, but Ollie kept a tight, protective hold on him until they’d reached the bottom of the stairs and were in the foyer with Dinah, then he set the munchkin down. Robert toddled over to Dinah and babbled up at her, his cute babbling interspersed with his rendition of her name. 

“Oh, Robert,” Dinah leaned down and picked him up. “My little boy,” she squeezed him close and kissed his cheek. “Oh, I missed all of you so much.” 

“We missed you, too, Pretty Bird,” Ollie grinned. 

Dinah stepped over to him to plant a kiss on his mouth. “I love you, Oliver.” 

“Love ya, too, Dinah," Ollie echoed. 

Emiko and Conner, acting much younger than their sixteen and eighteen years (respectively), cooed at the two of them and made kissy faces. 

It was good to be home. 

-Wayne Manor, Bruce-  

Bruce took a deep breath. Home. 

Alfred would be arriving back from his own vacation the next day. Which was good. It gave Bruce some time to hopefully get the house back into order, to hopefully make it seem like – maybe – the house didn’t entirely fall about without Alfred. Even though it kind of did. 

“Shit, man, what’s in this?” Jason said. 

“I dunno, that’s Lian’s bag. Didn’t you pack it?” Roy asked. 

Bruce sighed again, this time with a fond eyeroll, and turned back to the taxi that Roy and Jason were emptying. Lian clung to her father’s back, like a little monkey, and jabbered into his ear in Vietnamese, probably about what she wanted for lunch. 

Lian was wearing a floofy tulle skirt and her skeleton turtleneck, and a pair of yellow rain boots (because she hadn’t wanted to tie or velcro her shoes). She was one of the most gorgeous things Bruce had ever seen in his life, what with her smile and her unabashed selfness. 

As nice as it was to be home, Bruce thought it would be that much nicer to be home with more family in tow. Particularly Lian. She was a little light, really, making any situation that much brighter. “Do you two need help?” Bruce called. 

“No!” Jason snapped. 

“Yes, please!” Roy chirped, at about the same time. 

“Grampa!” Lian squealed. 

Bruce was starting to realize that she was calling him that so often because she liked how it made him freeze, wide-eyed and awed, every single time she did. He hadn’t expected to have any grandkids for a while, yet, and certainly not a  Queen  as his grandkid. He didn’t even care that much, though, about his grandkid also being Ollie’s grandkid, though. 

“Hey, chum,” Bruce said. 

“He calls me chum,” Lian stage-whispered. 

“Chum is fish food,” Jason stage-whispered back. 

Lian gasped. “I’m fishie food?” 

“Sounds like it,” Roy offered. 

Lian bounced up and down, still clinging to Roy’s back. “I’m fishie food!” she dropped from Roy’s back and scurried over to Bruce, then proceeded to climb up to his shoulders, instead. “I’m the bestest fishie food!” 

“Of course you are,” Bruce agreed. “Do you want to ring the doorbell?” 

Lian scrambled back down to the ground. ”Fuck yeah!" she screamed. Roy and Jason both groaned, which Lian entirely ignored. She trotted up to the doorbell and hit it. Then she hit it no less than three more times, all without pause in between. 

Bruce chuckled. Then helped Jason and Roy get their bags (and his own) up to the door. 

Clark was the one to fling the door open, almost (but luckily not quite) floating in his anticipation. ”Oh!” he looked down at Lian, then up at the three adults with her. He grinned, wide. ”You brought guests, B,” he said. 

“Mm. And Jason,” Bruce agreed. 

“Am I not a guest?” Jason scoffed. 

“No, you’re family,” Bruce said.