Chapter Text
Only the kitchen light was on; the dining room remained dark, and Talia hadn’t bothered to change that when she came in, more than happy to continue working on her laptop as it was. Nyssa ran a tight ship, and there was no trace of the overconfidence that had sometimes ruined their father.
Talia had paused when she’d heard the window sliding open, but went back to her work when she saw who it was. “Beloved,” She greeted, tapping a few keys to save her work, “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“That’s my line,” He replied, striding towards her. He stood before her, a paragon of justice waiting to give her sentence.
Talia, however, was not phased. She swivelled in her seat, bringing her knees to face him while her torso remained stationary, her upper body twisted towards her laptop. “Metropolis isn’t Gotham. I’m here on business.”
He remained as immovable as stone. “Superman tells me you’re working for Luthor.”
“I’m well-acquainted with his board of directors,” Talia said lightly. “Our paths happened to cross.”
“I’m surprised he forgave you after what you did to his company.”
“Water under the bridge. Business is business.” She tapped a few more keys.
“And your business is?”
Talia smiled. Her dear detective, so hard-working. “My sister’s.”
“I heard she’s been doing some restructuring.”
Talia stopped smiling. She shouldn’t be surprised, but still. “You’re well-informed.”
Whatever he was going to say to that was lost; quite abruptly, the front door rattled open, boots stomping into the hall, and a young man’s loud voice rang out: “Okay T, so they didn’t have any spring rolls left, but they gave us a bunch of won-tons, which I think is a pretty fair deal-”
“Jason?” Batman sounded strained; almost as strained as Talia felt, when Jason swung into the room and saw them both.
Jason stared for a long moment. “You’re not getting any won-tons,” He finally said, flatly, his face blank, as he marched over to Talia, dropped a bag on the table next to her, kissed her (rather roughly) on the temple, and promptly turned and left.
“Jason,” His father called, softly, but the man didn’t react, ducking back through the archway and heading in the opposite direction. After a few beats, a door slammed shut.
Talia sighed. He was going to get rice on her sheets. “I’d forgotten he’d said he would bring dinner,” She admitted. They didn’t look at each other, Talia peeking into what he’d ordered for her and Bruce watching the empty archway.
“… I didn’t know he still talked to you,” Bruce said quietly.
Talia shrugged. “More than Damian, perhaps; I imagine he was going to ask me for something.”
“I thought you’d be more expensive than takeout,” The detective noted, but he didn’t sound very amused.
“Not for this,” She admitted, unable to keep from smiling as she popped the lid off. The smell of Jade Palace’s chicken fried rice wafted out, and Talia suddenly remembered who had introduced her to it, and why.
“I should go,” Batman said, abruptly, and Talia did not have the heart to stop him as he left. He, too, was most certainly thinking about how she would wake him up at 6am, insisting that their unborn child would give her no peace until she had eaten the only craving she’d ever ask him for; Bruce had given it to her himself, after all, promising that it wouldn’t disappoint.
It hadn’t.
She took a bite, and it still did not.