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GOTHAM / MAY 27TH / 4:00 PM
Talia al Ghul was in Gotham strictly for business reasons.
Or at least, that was what she told herself. Her father had sent her to retrieve a stolen League relic, a dagger of considerable importance to his cause, which had turned up in a Museum of History. Gotham's. The cesspool of a city her beloved was so devoted to protecting for reasons beyond her grasping.
Her heels clicked smartly against the grey floors as she headed towards the exhibit of Middle Eastern history. She was to meet with one of the head curators who cared for the dagger, whom she had already dealt with the business aspects with over the phone prior to coming down to the city personally for the pickup. It was to be a simple job and why she wondered why her father did not simply send any of his trustworthy operatives to collect. But she supposed she could not be privy to every thought of her father's.
It was in this museum though that she stumbled upon a small freckled child of vaguely mixed heritage which she recognized as the latest of the Batman's protégés, who was supposed to be out of town for the next three days she had thought. Perhaps he had just left the child behind in the butler's care?
He wore a red school bag and had his head bent over a small notepad with which he was writing something down on, looking up every now and then at the Mideastern artefacts to make sure he didn't make a mistake in his chronicling.
"Hello, little bird."
The boy visibly startled, losing his grip on the pen he was writing with and having to catch it midair just before it hit the marble floor.
“I - uh - Miss Al Ghul -” He stuttered, surprised but respectful. She wasn't surprised that he knew her by name. After all, her beloved was someone who never liked to be caught off guard and it wouldn't be odd to think that he would expect that of his most recent ward as well.
"Talia is fine." Her voice turned warm in amusement, which surprised her somewhat. She hadn't held much interest in or care for Richard, her beloved's first protégé, a feeling which was quite mutual on both sides, but she seemed to feel differently about this boy to his predecessor. There was just something...she couldn't quite place a finger on.
He seemed nervous, his body shifting although Talia recognized his eyes trying to read her intentions. She had been long trained out of showing any such tells but allowed herself to relax purposefully in a way that showed she meant no harm.
"Do you hold an interest in Middle Eastern history?" She asked conversationally. She wasn't in any rush to meet with the curator and she was somewhat curious about this new boy. She knew the details of his life story, of course, as she did hold a mild interest herself in her beloved's life and was thoroughly amused with the idea of a child who would steal the Batman's tires of all things.
"Um, a bit, I guess. I just like learning anything." He answered honestly, though looking a little bewildered at having a conversation with the assassin lady. Weren't her and Bruce a thing once? "It's why I like coming to the museum if I have time after school."
"That is an admirable trait." Talia nodded approvingly. She noticed the curator standing off to the side, looking incredibly nervous himself at seeing her. She supposed it might be due to her father's reputation reaching him.
"Perhaps you would be interested in learning a bit of League history?" Her father would not be pleased to hear her say that. But the boy enjoyed learning and what was the worst to happen with that information? That he would tell his newfound father? That would also be a win to Talia if she could hurt her father enough to bring him back a step. After all, she was holding a grudge now.
"I—I think I would like that." Hesitation bled into his tone but it was diluted with genuine curiosity and so he followed after the brunette, who in turn was led by the curator into the back of the museum and was gifted a metal briefcase which she opened to check the contents.
"It's pretty ugly." The boy commented from over her shoulder as he looked at the gold-handled blade which could almost be thought of as 'tacky-looking,' despite its age. Her eyes warmed in amusement yet again. She did not wonder why the Batman was looking lighter in recent surveillance photos as of recent.
"That it is." Nodding at the curator, she closed the clasps of the briefcase with a simultaneous snap, before she left the museum with the boy trailing behind her, not looking unlike a duckling as he tucked away his notepad and pens back into his school bag as she explained the dagger's history.
"The dagger has been in my father's possession for most of his life, which would be a some 450 years—"
"I thought he was 500."
"My father is. I did not say he had been in possession of the blade all his life." She excused the interruption. "It is said that the dagger is able to open portals to other timelines, although my father was never able to use it considering—" She let her sentence trail off as she looked around the reserved back parking lot. Something felt off.
“Considering what?” Jason asked, curious but beginning to resign himself to never getting answers from the Al Ghuls. A wise position, she thought as she placed the case in the trunk of her car.
Tap.
What could almost be mistaken for the sound of a raindrop were it not in the forecast, a small pellet dropped from above them and rolled right between Jason and Talia's feet before it hissed and exploded in thick plumes of smoke that caused tearing and coughs from the younger before he suddenly went silent.
As the smoke cleared, lazarus-green eyes narrowed sharply as she took in the situation she was currently in. She now understood why her father had sent her to retrieve the dagger personally. It involved a traitor. And it was Talia's duty to remove traitors to her father's mission.
Holding a gun against Jason's head, the man dressed in league garb used his other hand to sign, showing he was probably a mute. Perhaps her father had been the one to cut out his tongue. It would explain his defection.
"You would dare steal from me?" Talia looked furious in a way that made Jason seem concerned in a way he wasn't with a gun to his head. "Vermin."
On any other occasion, she would never tolerate such arrogance but there was a child in the equation to be thought of and she wasn't one who cared to endanger lives, especially bright young ones when it didn't need to be.
More signs followed and Talia did nothing for all of three seconds before she took the case out of the trunk and slid it over to the rogue, who aptly threw Jason back at her, landing with an "oof!" before the rogue assassin disappeared with the remains of the smoke. Talia looked infuriated.
"We should get that back, shouldn't we?" Jason seemed to perk up at the prospect.
"This does not involve you, child." Talia was already removing her heels to a pair more suited for running. As always, she is prepared to fight.
"You said that it was able to open other timelines, which is a JL-level problem. And besides, I came carrying." In proof, the boy discreetly showed a domino mask he carried in a hidden zipper of his bag.
While Talia was not of the same mentality of Batman when it came to working with children, she had a feeling the boy was going to chase after them both if she left on her own. And she'd rather keep an eye on him to make certain of his safety than having him do his own thing unsafely. Ah—was that her beloved's reasonings?
"Leave your bag in the car, then. It won't be of much use to me if he's running across rooftops." She relented. "You have two minutes to change into your uniform."
*
The sky was darkening and the air grew thin and cool as Robin and Talia dashed along the rooftops of Old Gotham, chasing the thief who was still in the vicinity. If he knew any escaping technique, Talia was taught it first, a fact which fuelled her confidence.
Briefly looking back at the novice boy admirably keeping pace with her she worried for a moment over him as the weather seemed to have taken a turn for the worse, with large rain droplets falling from the sky and a rumble of thunder to be heard in the distance, making for dangerous flying conditions.
She suddenly felt a strong longing for her child back home, where her own father controlled her time with. She wished to kiss and hold him and listen to his delightfully mature explanation of his latest animal interest.
Keep focused, Talia. You are better than this. A frown crossed her expression before the rogue turned a corner, right into their sights only two rooftops away.
They ran after him, sliding over the rain-soaked rooftops only for Robin to slip off the edge and launch into space, weightless and free, his eyes shutting firmly in expectation of being smashed down on the cement below in accordance with the laws of gravity. Oh, well. It had been a while since he'd slept on the ground. After a few moments though, when nothing had happened, he opened one eye to see the Daughter of the Demon above him, holding him up with both arms pulling him back with the rogue now gone.
"You lost him!"
Talia huffed and re-tied her ponytail once she was certain of Robin's steadiness, mildly annoyed at the disappearance which a flash of lightning illuminated. "He cannot run forever. And I will not fail in my objective."
"...I'm sorry." The boy looked downwards after a few beats, apology evident. Something in Talia, something warm and maternal she tried to push down, came forward in the action of brushing his wet curls back.
"It is a simple matter to correct. I will simply look for his hide-out instead. Chasing him across the city was ill-strategised and pointless."
"Even you can be rash, huh." Jason shivered and although Talia was used to extreme weather conditions, that did not mean she had to subject this child to it. She eyed a quiet-looking cafe on a street corner below. "Hm, perhaps we should look into some chamomile tea for you."
"Tea? Now?"
"Have you not taken tea before, child?" She asked, green eyes taking in the pink flush rising up the boy's neck as a 'no.' Well, she supposed it was the American culture of coffee was to blame. Growing up outside of the States, though, tea was something drunken by all ages. One would think having a British butler would have influenced Bruce some in his tastes, but unfortunately the vigilante couldn't find a love of the hot drink. Warm milk was what they took at bedtime.
"Well then, I suppose I shall have to introduce you to the drink of tea."
*
Having re-dressed in some dry clothes that Talia had stored in the back of her vehicle and Jason's stuffed into his schoolbag, the two sat amiably in a cafe reviewing Jason's history notes, with the boy in mention looking somewhat bewildered at having such a pleasant moment with the assassin woman, but also finding her incredibly fascinating. He did hold an admiration of powerful women, of course.
It was a quiet establishment, with the two of them being the only customers in the building and surprising the old woman when they came in with a jingle of the chimes at the door.
"It looks like midnight out with all those storm clouds. What time is it anyway?"
"Seven in the evening." Talia didn't even glance at the clock mounted on the front wall as she sipped her tea in contentment of the quality.
"Oh, great. I hope dad won't be too mad I'm out this late." It was one thing for Robin to go out at night, and a whole different story for Jason Todd-Wayne.
"Dad?" Talia echoed the title Jason had used. She didn't recall Richard ever calling Bruce that.
He seemed more embarrassed than surprised that he had spoken the term aloud, squirming in his chair uncomfortably. "I've only just started calling B that. He seemed happy when I did so I just kept calling him that."
Before she could reply, the sound of chimes rang from the doorway, surprising the owner yet again and making Talia smile despite herself.
There he was. The only force more prevalent than the rain.
Her Beloved.
Storming into the little cafe with his suit jacket slung over his arm, dressed in a button-down and slacks, Bruce Wayne looked more handsome than she had remembered with that protective fury written across his features.
"Jason."
He addressed the sheepish twelve-year-old, ignoring her for the time being. She would be lying if she said that it didn't sting. But they were both parents so she couldn't take much offence.
"Dad." A mischievous sort of grin pulled the corner of his mouth, overruling his diffidence.
"Jason seemed to enjoy himself tonight. He learnt a few things about Middle-Eastern and League history." Talia spoke up, defending the child's being out with one side of her mouth turned upwards. Ah, well. She was starting to grow fond of the child it seemed.
Bruce looked unimpressed, particularly at her interruption. "I do not appreciate you involving my son in League matters. Especially in my city."
Jason turned red at the 'my son,' bit.
"To which I would normally remain respectful of. You know this of both my father and I." Talia rose from her chair, bringing her hanging hair over her shoulder. "Unfortunately an item of mine was stolen from me and I must retrieve it."
Kissing his cheek softly which he grunted at, not entirely unhappy with the action, Talia smiled at him affectionately. "I shall be off as soon as I've concluded my business, beloved. This I swear to you out of both love and respect."
"Farewell to you as well, little bird." A kiss was pressed against the flushed child's forehead. "It was a pleasure meeting you."
And with that, the Daughter of the Demon and Mother of Ibn al Xu'ffasch left the cafe feeling a happiness in her that she was so often denied the honour of. She looked forward to seeing Damian again soon to regain some more of that feeling.