Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jason

Jason glanced down at the time on his phone. He’d told Roy they would leave at nine. It was nine-oh-five.

He still wasn’t in a hurry. He looked back up at his reflection in the bathroom mirror; he was taking his sweet time making his hair look just right, even though he usually rolled out of bed in the morning (or afternoon), ran a brush or his fingers through it, and went on with his life.

It wasn’t that he was especially concerned about his appearance today. Everyone knew what he looked like. There was no point going to extra effort for people who’d seen him at his absolute worst. But he was taking any opportunity to delay the inevitable.

He heard footsteps coming down the hall. That would be Roy. And he would be impatient. When Jason said they were going to leave at nine, Roy expected to leave at nine. Over the course of their friendship-slash-partnership-slash-relationship, Jason had kept the man waiting more times than he liked to admit, and he knew it annoyed Roy, and he tried not to make a habit of it anymore, but sometimes he just really, really, really didn’t want to be somewhere.

Or sometimes he sort of did, but also sort of didn’t, and the whole thing was complicated, and it would be easier to just back out now before it became even more of a mess than it already was.

Roy appeared behind Jason in the mirror. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was leaning against the doorframe with one eyebrow raised. Jason stopped messing with his hair, but he didn’t turn around.

“We don’t have to go,” he said, trying to sound casual, knowing it wouldn’t fool Roy for a second.

“Jason. Sweetheart,” Roy said, coming up behind him so he could put his arms around Jason’s waist and physically turn him around. Jason avoided eye contact, staring past Roy’s shoulder instead of at his face, because at this point in their relationship he still wasn’t immune to Roy Harper’s patented persuasion techniques. (Roy wasn’t immune to Jason’s either, so at least they were on equal footing.)

Roy continued, “Lian has been talking about this for weeks. We are literally about to head out the door. Is now really the time to be having second thoughts?”

Jason scowled. Roy was right, damn it. Jason had agreed to this. He’d sold it to Roy and Lian. He’d had plenty of opportunities to back out. Was he really going to let some last-minute jitters compel him to call the whole thing off? Was he that much of a coward?

Yes.

“We could tell them Lian got sick,” he suggested, finally meeting Roy’s gaze, meeting Roy’s powers of persuasion with his own.

“And what would we tell Lian?”

“Everyone in my family got sick.”

Roy narrowed his eyes, unamused. “No. We are not lying to my daughter. Lian and I are going with or without you.”

Shit. Jason hadn’t considered the possibility that Roy might go without him. That couldn’t happen. “Roy—”

Roy cut him off. “I’m serious,” he said. Then he stopped himself and took a deep breath, calming himself down before this could turn into an argument. They had a rule: no arguing when Lian might overhear. Instead, they argued during joint missions, or in hushed voices when Lian was asleep, or when one of them visited the other without Lian present. It was an effective strategy. It forced them to work out their issues in a healthy, mature way most of the time, because Lian was around a lot.

“I understand that you’re nervous,” Roy added, his hands running up and down Jason’s arms slowly, soothingly, “But you have to trust me when I tell you that everything is going to be fine. Nothing your family could do or say would ever change the way I feel about you. And none of it will faze Lian either.”

Jason wasn’t too worried about Lian. Dick would be there, and Lian loved Dick. And everyone else in Jason’s family knew to be on their best behavior when young kids were around, even Damian.

Logically, he knew he shouldn’t worry about Roy either. Roy had experience with messy, complicated, sometimes-dysfunctional family dynamics. He had experience with Jason’s messy, complicated, sometimes-dysfunctional family dynamic. But anxiety wasn’t logical. And Jason couldn’t stop imagining increasingly unrealistic scenarios in which Roy decided to break up with him because today was such an unmitigated disaster that it damaged their relationship beyond repair.

That would never, ever happen. And yet Jason was convinced that it definitely, definitely would. God, he was a mess.

He used to look forward to Thanksgiving. The few years when his biological father had been out of the picture and his mom had been sober enough to celebrate. The few years when he’d lived with Bruce. It had been his favorite holiday, once upon a time. And it could be again; he knew it could. If he could just get over his fear that everything was going to go wrong.

“What if my dad gives you a shovel talk?” Jason asked.

Roy shot him a look. “This far into my career, you seriously think I can’t handle Batman threatening me?”

“What if Alfred gives you a shovel talk?” Jason pressed.

“I would be terrified,” Roy admitted candidly.

“As you should be.”

“But I’d survive.”

“What if Damian acts all murdery?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “You used to ‘act all murdery.’ You still do sometimes. Anyway, Damian is thirteen.”

“Fourteen,” Jason corrected.

“And he doesn’t murder anymore,” Roy added.

“What if interacting with Tim makes you realize you want nothing to do with me or my family?”

“Tim is not that bad. You just think he is because he’s your brother and he made you a middle child.”

Jason resented the implication that those were the only reasons he disliked Tim, but he let it slide. “What if Dick is annoying?”

“Dick is my friend,” Roy said, “And I can handle anything he throws at me.”

Jason looked at Roy. Really looked at him. He looked like he meant everything he’d said. He sounded like he meant it. “I’m holding you to all of that,” Jason warned him.

Roy rewarded him with a smile, realizing that this meant he’d won. “I know you will.”

He kissed Jason briefly, and pulled away before Jason could – once again, in an effort to delay the inevitable – turn it into anything more. “Take deep breaths,” he instructed. “I’ll get Lian, then we’ll go.”

Lian was in the living room, kneeling in front of Jason’s coffee table, coloring. Jason followed Roy and stood a few feet behind him as Roy rallied the troops (or troop, singular).

“Hey, princess, are you ready to go?” Roy asked.

Lian looked up at him and blinked her dark brown eyes. “I need my coloring books,” she said.

“We put some in your backpack already, remember? Crayons too.”

Lian stood and looked around. “Where’s my backpack?”

Roy picked up her child-sized Wonder Woman backpack off the floor. “Got it right here. Let’s go; Jay’s waiting.”

Lian rushed to the front door and Jason handed her her coat and shoes. She sat down to put them on. “Need help with that?” Jason asked, already knowing what her answer would be.

“No. I can do it myself.”

Jason put one of his leather jackets on. Roy grabbed his keys; he was driving. Jason still didn’t own a car, only his bike. “If we’re going to move to New York, what’s the point? It’d just be an unnecessary expense,” he’d said to Roy in one of their not-arguments.

That was where they’d decided they would live when they moved in together: New York. It had been a lengthy and difficult decision-making process, involving frequent close calls where the two of them nearly broke their “no arguing in front of the kid” rule, but it had all worked out in the end. Jason wasn’t used to that happening. He was starting to get used to it, though. (That worried him. He tried not to let it, but it did.)

In the car on the way to Wayne Manor, Roy asked, “Do you remember the names of everyone who’s going to be there, princess?”

Lian called out from the backseat: “Uncle Dick!”

Roy smiled. “That’s right. Who else?”

“Uh…” Apparently Lian hadn’t retained any of the other information Roy and Jason had repeatedly related to her. Fair enough. She didn’t know any of these people, besides Dick.

“Jay’s dad, Bruce,” Roy reminded her. “And Jay’s grandpa, Alfred.”

“Oh!” Lian exclaimed, remembering. “Jayjay’s sister, Cassie!”

Lian had been overjoyed to learn that Jason had a sister. She was currently in her “girls are better than boys” phase. (Although Jason, her dad, her grandpa Ollie, and her uncles Connor and Dick were apparently exceptions.)

“That’s right,” Roy said. “And his brothers. Dick is his older brother and Tim, Duke, and Damian are his younger brothers.”

Lian’s eyes went wide. “Wow. Jayjay, you have a lot.”

“I do,” Jason agreed. And he hoped they were all on their best behavior. Though he doubted they would be.

By the time they arrived at Wayne Manor, Jason was feeling strangely calm. Maybe Lian’s enthusiasm had gotten to him. Or maybe he’d gone numb to cope with the anxiety. That was always a possibility.

Roy parked in front of the house and turned to Jason. He reached across the center console and took Jason’s hand. “Deep breaths, Jaybird,” he said quietly.

Jason nodded. “I’m fine,” he reassured Roy (and himself). “I can do this.”

“I know you can.”

Roy gave his hand a final squeeze, then got out of the car and opened Lian’s door for her. Jason followed them to the front door of the Manor. It was unlocked.

Jason let them in and led the way to the kitchen, where he heard Dick and Alfred talking. They were the two people Jason was least concerned about pissing him off or causing a scene, so it seemed like a good place to start. Besides, Jason had promised Alfred he would help make dinner.

Dick looked up when he heard Jason, Roy, and Lian enter the room. His face lit up and he got down off his barstool. “Lian!” he exclaimed, holding out his arms.

Lian ran at top speed and collided with Dick, letting him wrap his arms around her in a tight hug. “I missed you, jelly bean!” Dick said, releasing her. She was grinning from ear to ear.

“I drew a picture for you!” Her face fell, and she turned to Roy, suddenly distraught. “Daddy, we forgot my picture!”

“No we didn’t,” Roy said. “It’s in your backpack.”

He handed Lian her backpack, and she eagerly unzipped it and pulled out a piece of printer paper, presenting it to Dick, who held it in front of his face and examined it with all the seriousness of an art critic at a gallery.

“Is that me?” he asked. Lian nodded. “It looks just like me. And you colored me blue. That’s my favorite color.” He smiled. “Can I keep it?”

“You have to put it in your house,” Lian said.

“Oh, I’m gonna frame it,” Dick assured her.

Jason turned his attention to Alfred during Dick and Lian’s exchange. “Hey, Alfred.”

“Welcome home, Master Jason,” Alfred said warmly.

Jason approached, rolling up his sleeves, pulling a spare apron out of the pantry and putting it on. “What can I help with?” he asked.

“I’ve made everything ahead of time aside from the turkey, mashed potatoes, and the dinner rolls,” Alfred explained. “I’ve started on the turkey, as you can see. I would welcome your assistance.”

Jason turned to Roy and Lian. “Roy, Lili, are you both okay on your own while I help Alfred?”

“Of course,” Roy said.

“Come with me to the gym, Lian,” Dick suggested, taking her by the hand. “I wanna see your cartwheel.” He smiled over his shoulder at Roy. “You can stay with Jason if you want, Roy. I’ve got Lian.”

“You sure?” Roy checked.

“Yeah.” Dick winked. “I’ll give her back to you with five new tricks.”

With that, Dick swept Lian up onto his shoulders and carried her out of the kitchen. Roy called after them belatedly: “And no concussions. Dick! No concussions!”

Dick didn’t answer. Roy sighed and shook his head fondly. Everyone knew Dick wouldn’t let Lian come to any harm.

Roy joined Alfred and Jason at the kitchen island. “Anything I can do to help, Alfred?”

“You’re a guest, Master Roy,” Alfred chided. “I couldn’t possibly ask you to help with dinner.”

Jason raised his eyebrows. “I’m not a guest?”

“I’m afraid not, Master Jason,” Alfred said. “Once a member of the family, always a member of the family. No matter where you live.”

Jason swallowed. Somehow it always took him by surprise, the way Alfred could say things that hit him right in the heart. No matter where you live.

Jason still hadn’t told anyone that he and Roy were moving to New York. He’d announced months ago that he and Roy were “thinking about moving in together,” but that was before they’d made any concrete plans.

Now those plans were in place. They were moving at the end of Lian’s school year. They’d picked a neighborhood. They’d researched the local school district. They’d drawn up a budget. They were discussing things like paint colors, furniture, and whether they should get a pet. (Lian wanted a dog. Jason also kind of wanted a dog, though he wanted to be realistic about whether or not they’d be able to take care of one.)

They were making a life together. Jason was glad it was happening gradually; he didn’t think he could handle it any other way. As it was, he still regularly had to talk himself down from doom spiraling.

Jason’s plan had been to tell his family about his plans to move to New York with Roy and Lian today, after dinner. Dick already knew, thanks to Roy, but Jason had sworn him to secrecy. Jason didn’t know how everyone would react.

Scratch that. He didn’t know how Bruce would react. He didn’t care as much about everyone else. Alfred would love him no matter what. His siblings were used to Dick living in another city. But Bruce… Jason couldn’t decide what reaction he wanted out of him.

On the one hand, Bruce might be upset that Jason was moving away. Jason didn’t want Bruce to try to convince him to stay. He didn’t want Bruce to try to control him.

On the other hand, Bruce might not care that Jason was leaving. And in many ways, that would be so much worse.

“I guess I should’ve read the fine print when a random billionaire found and adopted me,” Jason joked, silencing his doubts for the time being. There was no point dwelling on it. He needed to focus on helping Alfred make dinner.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Roy agreed with a smirk.

Damian

Dick had told Damian to “take a day off” from training. “It’s Thanksgiving,” Dick had said. “Give yourself a break. You’ve earned it.”

But Damian had it on good authority that Dick had not skipped his own training; he and Tim had been sparring in the Batcave earlier that day. Nor had Bruce skipped training. In fact, as far as Damian could tell, not a single one of his family members had “taken the day off” or “given themselves a break.” Damian was certainly not going to be the one to break from tradition.

Days off were for people with regular jobs. Not vigilantes.

So Damian was in the Waynes’ home gym. It was spacious and well-equipped, with treadmills, free weights, benches, floor mats, gymnastics rings, and plenty of machines. Damian had already done his strength training for the day, and now he was on one of the treadmills, running at a steady pace. The treadmills both faced the gym’s large, floor-to-ceiling windows, giving him a scenic view of the Manor’s grounds. It was a good place to run when the weather was too cold to run on the track outside. Damian avoided exercising outdoors in the winter whenever possible. He hated the cold.

Damian was fifteen minutes through his thirty minutes of cardio when the door to the gym opened and Dick entered, carrying Roy’s daughter Lian on his shoulders. Roy and Lian, Damian had been told, were joining the Waynes for Thanksgiving dinner this year.

Damian had not interacted much with Roy or Lian. He knew Roy was close friends with Dick and had been dating Jason for two years. He was, Dick claimed, the greatest archer in the world – “Better than both of the Green Arrows, and you can quote me on that” – which gave Damian some respect for him. Anyone who was the best at something had to have put in a lot of work to earn that title. Damian knew how much work his father put into being the best at what he did.

As for Lian, Damian knew very little about her capabilities, though he imagined they weren’t very impressive, given her age. (Of course, at that age, Damian had known how to kill a man in one hundred different ways, but his childhood had been far less standard than Lian’s seemed to be.)

“Lian, have you met Damian?” Dick asked, lifting Lian off his shoulders and setting her down on the floor.

Lian looked around the room. Her gaze landed on Damian. “Jayjay’s brother?” she asked.

Jayjay. It was obviously an affectionate nickname for “Jason.” Jason had a lot of those. Jay, Jay-lad, Jaybird. Anyone in a family with both Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson was bound to end up with a laundry list of nicknames. Those two were incorrigible.

“Yeah,” Dick confirmed. “Damian, say hi.”

Damian rolled his eyes and looked away, refocusing his energy on his run, which was still barely more than half over. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

He could still see Dick’s reflection in the window. Dick put a hand on his hip and made his “disappointed older brother” face, which was a lot more effective than Damian would care to admit.

“Take a break,” Dick said. “Just for a minute. We have guests.” He gestured to Lian.

Damian considered it. He glanced up at the wall-mounted clock. He had plenty of time to get the rest of his workout in and shower before dinner was served. He could afford to take a break.

He paused the treadmill, took a long drink of water, and wiped the sweat off his face before walking over to Dick and Lian. He extended a hand and introduced himself. “Damian al Ghul-Wayne.”

Lian stared at Damian’s outstretched hand and did nothing.

“Damian, she’s six,” Dick told him. “She doesn’t shake hands.”

Damian withdrew his hand. “Tt. I’m not surprised.”

It was Dick’s turn to roll his eyes. “Damian, this is Lian Harper, Roy’s daughter,” he said.

“I am aware,” Damian replied. Even if he hadn’t recognized Lian, it would have been obvious from context clues alone. And she did resemble Roy in certain ways. Her nose, mouth, and chin were more rounded and babyish compared to Roy’s adult features, but they were similar enough that Damian could identify where she inherited them from.

“Damian is Jason’s youngest brother,” Dick told Lian. “He’s fourteen.”

“And busy,” Damian added. “You’re interrupting my workout.”

“You can keep working out. We’ll stay out of your way.”

Damian took this as a dismissal and returned to the treadmill, resuming his workout. He continued watching Dick and Lian’s reflections in the window as Dick led Lian over to a large empty space and laid out a floor mat between them.

“Let’s start with a forward roll,” he said. “You’re really good at those.”

Lian tucked her body into a forward roll. Dick was right. Her form was good. Maybe there was more to Lian than Damian had expected. She was the child of a vigilante and an assassin, much like Damian was. Not the child of the world’s best vigilante and assassin, like Damian was. But Damian knew genetics weren’t everything. Training was also important.

“Perfect form. Couldn’t have done it better myself,” Dick told her, beaming. He sounded proud. Dick must have been the one to teach Lian the tricks he was now asking her to demonstrate. No wonder she was good. Dick was an excellent teacher.

“What about a backward roll?” Dick then prompted.

Lian did a backward roll. Her form was a little off this time. The roll wasn’t perfectly straight; she went at an angle. “Amazing,” Dick said nonetheless. Then, “Your shoulder got in the way at the end there, didn’t it? You gotta keep your arms tucked in. Like this.”

Dick demonstrated, and Lian watched. Then Lian did it again, this time with Dick standing over her, correcting her form. And then she did it a third time, on her own. Her form was noticeably better. “How’s that cartwheel coming along?” Dick asked.

Lian did a cartwheel. She landed it perfectly, but her legs wobbled in the air midway through.

“Impressive! I can tell you’ve been practicing,” Dick said. “Remember, we wanna keep our legs straight.”

Dick repeated the same steps he’d done to correct Lian’s backward roll: demonstrated proper form, then helped Lian do it right, then watched her do it on her own. Once again, Damian saw immediate improvement. Not only was Dick an excellent teacher, Lian was an excellent student.

“Last one. Let’s see a handstand.”

Lian did a handstand. It was brief, but technically flawless.

Dick clapped. “Perfect! You kept your legs straight that time. You’re a pro.”

Lian landed softly on her feet. “I wanna see you do tricks,” she told Dick.

Dick acquiesced. His “tricks” were, of course, a lot more complicated than Lian’s had been. He wasn’t doing cartwheels and rolls; he was flipping through the air like the acrobat he was, trained since birth the way Damian had been trained to be an assassin.

Dick kept Lian occupied long enough for Damian to finish his cardio. He emptied his water bottle, wiped his face again, turned the treadmill off, and approached Dick and Lian.

“You know,” he said, “Grayson isn’t the only one who can do tricks.”

Lian looked up at him, momentarily distracted from the show Dick was putting on. “Who’s Grayson?”

“Dick,” Damian clarified. “His last name is Grayson.”

“Oh.” Lian looked at Dick, then back at Damian. “My last name is Harper.”

They were getting sidetracked. “He’s not the only one who can do tricks,” Damian repeated.

“That’s true,” Dick said, taking a swig of his own water bottle, grinning the way he always did when he was in his element. “Damian knows almost all the same tricks as me.”

Almost. Damian scoffed. “And there are things I can do that Grayson can’t.” Not strictly true, but there were things Damian was better at than Dick. Primarily involving bladed weapons. Dick could hold his own in a swordfight, but he didn’t often have the occasion to. And he was better at throwing batarangs and birdarangs than knives.

“No knife throwing in the gym,” Dick reminded Damian. “And no swordplay, either.”

“You’re no fun,” Damian complained. Although the rules weren’t Dick’s; they were Bruce’s. Any and all weaponry stayed in the Cave. The gym was strictly for working out, not sparring or target practice.

“Can you do a cartwheel?” Lian asked, interrupting Dick and Damian’s exchange.

“Of course I can,” Damian said. He motioned for Dick to get out of the way, then did a perfect aerial over the mat.

“That wasn’t—” Dick started to say, but Damian preempted him.

“It is a type of cartwheel.”

Dick crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not helpful for training a child.”

Damian mirrored Dick’s stance. “I didn’t realize you were training her,” he said sarcastically. “It looked like you were showing off.”

For several seconds, they stared at each other. As always, Dick broke first, his face splitting in another grin. He grabbed Damian and drew him in for a noogie, which Damian dodged with all the expertise he’d gained from four years of noogies. Dick let him get away.

“I’m bored,” Lian announced. She blinked up at Dick. “Can we color?”

“Sure thing, jelly bean,” Dick agreed easily. “Damian, come color with us.”

“I have to shower,” Damian said.

“Do that, and then meet us in the living room.”

“My coloring books and crayons are in my backpack,” Lian told Dick. Dick smiled down at her.

“You came prepared.”

Damian followed them out, and took the stairs two at a time up to his room. Titus was laying on his bed in the light of the afternoon sun. He lifted his head when Damian entered, then laid it back down when Damian passed him to go to the bathroom, turn the shower on, and rinse himself off.

He emerged and changed into the clothes he planned to wear to dinner. Titus seemed content on the bed, so Damian didn’t instruct him to follow. Titus would come downstairs when he got bored.

Damian went to the living room. Dick and Lian were kneeling on either side of the coffee table, coloring books and printer paper and crayons spread out between them.

“Why was I asked to participate in this?” Damian said to Dick, standing over them, watching.

Dick looked up and smiled. “You like to draw.”

“Not with crayons.”

“A good artist should be able to work with any medium.”

That wasn’t true. It was commonplace for an artist to specialize in certain mediums. And Damian didn’t know of a single serious artist who specialized in drawing with crayons. Personally, Damian preferred colored pencils. He’d been dabbling in watercolors too, more recently.

But he resented the implication that wouldn’t be good at drawing with crayons, because he resented the implication that he wouldn’t be good at anything. So he knelt next to Dick, grabbed a blank sheet of printer paper, and asked, “What are we drawing?”

“Whatever you want,” Dick said.

“I’m drawing Jayjay,” Lian told him. She shoved her drawing toward Damian. He turned it around to look at it. It was a person-shaped figure with black hair, light skin, and all-black clothes. It did look a bit like Jason, in an abstract sort of way.

Damian handed the drawing back to Lian, and she continued her work.

“I’m drawing the original Teen Titans,” Dick contributed. He pointed to one of the figures he was drawing: a boy dressed in a yellow and red Robin Hood-inspired costume. “Look, Lian, that’s your dad.”

Lian looked where Dick was pointing and frowned. “Daddy wears red,” she said.

“He used to wear red and yellow.”

She seemed satisfied with this explanation. “Yellow is my favorite.”

“I know.” Dick nudged Damian. “What’s your favorite color, Dames?”

“Green,” Damian said.

“That’s Grandpa Ollie’s favorite,” Lian informed him matter-of-factly. “And Mommy’s favorite.”

Damian hesitated for a moment, then admitted, “Green is my mother’s favorite as well.”

They drew in silence. Lian was adding detail to her drawing of Jason. Dick had given his drawing of Speedy a bow and arrows and was now adding Kid Flash next to him. Damian had settled on his subject matter and chose a gray crayon from Lian’s extensive collection.

After a short while, Lian looked over at Dick’s drawing, then at Damian’s. She leaned over the coffee table to see it more clearly.

“Wow,” she remarked. “Jayjay says I’m the best at coloring but I think you are.”

Damian was certainly the best in their small trio. Dick’s Teen Titans were glorified stick figures, and Lian was six, so of course her drawing wouldn’t be elaborate.

“I’m drawing Alfred,” Damian explained. “The cat.”

Lian’s eyes went wide. “You have a cat?”

“Yes. And a dog. And a cow.”

“A dog?” If possible, Lian’s eyes were even wider. “A puppy?” She looked, and sounded, utterly entranced.

“He is not a puppy,” Damian informed her. “He’s an adult dog. His name is Titus.”

“Where is he?” Lian stood and looked around like Titus might have been hiding in that very room the whole time. To be fair, it was a possibility; Titus could be sneaky.

“In my room,” Damian said.

“Is he nice?” Lian asked. “Can I meet him?”

Lian was obviously a fan of dogs. As a fan of dogs himself, Damian was inclined to indulge her. “He is well-behaved. I’ll go get him.”

Damian went back upstairs. Titus was still in his bed. He looked up again. “Titus, come,” Damian instructed.

Titus stood, leapt from the bed, and followed Damian obediently.

Lian gasped when Damian returned with Titus. “He’s so big!” she exclaimed. “Can I pet him?”

Damian appreciated that Lian asked. Someone must have taught her proper dog etiquette. “You may. He enjoys being scratched between his ears.”

Lian reached a hand forward and scratched Titus between his ears. Titus’ eyes shut as he enjoyed the experience, then he leaned his head back and licked Lian’s wrist.

Lian giggled. “He gave me a kiss!”

“He likes you,” Damian told her. Lian seemed very pleased by this news.

Damian sat down next to Dick, who had paused drawing a younger version of himself and was watching Lian with amusement.

When Lian got bored of petting Titus, she returned to her coloring. Titus laid beside her.

“Can you draw Titus?” she asked Damian.

“I suppose so,” he agreed. He put the finishing touches on his drawing of Alfred the cat, then exchanged his gray crayon for a dark brown one and got back to work.

Roy

While the turkey was in the oven and Alfred and Jason were making mashed potatoes and dinner rolls, respectively, Alfred engaged Jason and Roy in conversation about their lives: their vigilante work, Roy’s volunteering, Lian’s school.

Alfred didn’t know they were moving to New York, and Roy wasn’t going to be the one to tell him – Jason was planning on telling the whole family after dinner, although Roy wouldn’t be surprised if he backed out of it at the last second and they ended up having to tell the Waynes they were moving the day they were actually moving – so Roy and Jason kept any references to their future life together purposefully vague. Roy was certain Alfred had picked up on that, because according to Dick, Alfred picked up on everything. Everything. But he didn’t pry.

Dinner was scheduled for three, but the rest of the Wayne family was conspicuously absent well into the afternoon. “Tim and Bruce are probably still asleep, Cass and Damian are probably training, and Duke might be on patrol; I don’t know if he took the day off,” Jason explained when Roy asked him.

Bruce was the first to make an appearance. He stood awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen for a moment before entering fully and taking a seat at the counter next to Roy.

“Hello, Jason,” he said, nodding a bit stiffly. “Roy,” he added, nodding again.

Roy wouldn’t have considered himself Batman’s number-one fan. But it was a lot easier to get along with Bruce Wayne than with Batman. Batman was an asshole. Bruce Wayne was a socially awkward, emotionally inept middle-aged man with too many kids.

“Hey, Bruce,” Roy replied, returning Bruce’s nod politely, then exchanging meaningful eye contact with Jason, as if to say, So far, so good.

“Where’s Lian?” Bruce asked curiously.

“With Dick. They went to the gym. Who knows where they are by now.” Roy hadn’t heard any yelling, screaming, or crying, so he was counting on everything being okay on that front.

Bruce turned to Jason, and in an example of possibly the worst segue Roy had ever witnessed, asked, “How have you been, Jason?”

“Fine,” Jason said tonelessly. Roy resisted the urge to put his head in his hands. Apparently he was dealing with social awkwardness and emotional ineptitude from both sides today.

It was fine. Roy hadn’t expected everything to go perfectly smoothly today. He was having dinner with his boyfriend’s family for the first time. He was having Thanksgiving dinner with his boyfriend’s family for the first time. It was a tense situation with a lot of pressure. Jason was anxious, Bruce was probably anxious. Hell, Roy was anxious too, he just had better coping mechanisms than either of them.

“How long have you and Lian been in town, Roy?” Bruce asked.

“We got here on Monday,” Roy told him. “And we’re leaving tomorrow night.”

“Have you enjoyed yourselves?”

“Yeah. It’s always nice to visit Gotham.” Jason snorted. Roy raised an eyebrow at the interruption. “Is that funny?”

“I think that’s the first positive thing I’ve ever heard you say about Gotham,” Jason teased.

Roy smiled. Jason was starting to come back out of his shell again. Good. Roy decided to try to coax him out a little farther. “This city is fine in small doses,” Roy explained. “Even if it wasn’t, it’s worth it for the company.”

Jason smiled back at him. It was sappy as hell, and Roy wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Early on in their friendship-slash-partnership-slash-eventual relationship, Roy never would have guessed that Jason would turn out to be a closet romantic. But he was. He was probably the most romantic guy Roy had ever met. Possibly the most romantic person Roy had ever met. Jason tried to hide it, but the longer he was in a relationship, the more it came out, and Roy loved it so much.

Alfred was just taking the sides out of the fridge – it was fifteen minutes to three – and Roy snapped out of his bubble of Jason feelings and back to reality. He piped up to ask, “Alfred, are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help? The two of you look busy.” It wasn’t the first time he’d offered. This time, Alfred finally caved.

“If you must do something, you can set the table. There will be ten of us at dinner today. You can use the silver in the dining room cabinet.”

“You got it,” Roy said, standing up.

Bruce stood too. “I’ll help you, Roy.”

“Oh, I can do it myself,” Roy tried to tell him, but Bruce was already committed, apparently.

“I insist.”

Bruce led the way to the dining room and showed Roy where the silver was. While Roy divvied out forks, knives, and spoons, Bruce gathered up ten crystal goblets and china plates. Roy eyed all of these extremely breakable materials and crossed his fingers that Lian would be on her best behavior. She wasn’t the type of kid to break things usually, but Roy couldn’t make any guarantees.

Now that Roy was alone with Bruce, he remembered what Jason had asked him earlier: What if my dad gives you a shovel talk? Roy had a feeling it was about to be shovel talk time. He wasn’t nervous about it. Like he’d told Jason, he could handle well-meaning threats from Batman, and he could sure as hell handle well-meaning threats from Bruce Wayne. Alfred was a different story; Roy fully believed Alfred could legitimately make him disappear if Roy screwed up badly enough. But Bruce? No problem.

“How frequently do you visit Gotham these days?” Bruce began, filling the silence, staring down at the table instead of making eye contact.

Roy humored him. “About once every other month,” he said. “Jason visits me more often than I visit him. I can’t always get someone to watch Lian. Even if I could, I don’t like leaving her.” Jason had always been extremely understanding about Roy’s needs when it came to Lian. It was one of the things Roy appreciated most about him.

“I understand. I also understand that Gotham isn’t… to everyone’s tastes,” Bruce replied diplomatically.

“Neither is California,” Roy pointed out.

“I take it Jason hasn’t budged on that matter?”

“No. I wouldn’t expect him to. There are more than enough places we can go that aren’t Gotham or Star City.” Like he had with Alfred, Roy avoided mentioning New York or his and Jason’s plans to move. It didn’t stop Bruce from pursuing the subject, though.

“That’s true,” he said. “I understand you and Jason had originally planned to move in together this year or next.”

“Did he say that?” Roy answered neutrally, playing dumb. Shockingly, Bruce didn’t call him on it.

“Have you decided whether you’re planning to buy or rent? Depending on where you end up, I may have real estate connections.”

“Oh, we’ll probably rent,” Roy said. “Thanks for the offer, though.”

Bruce nodded. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

“Yeah.”

There was a brief pause. Bruce frowned at the table, then, seeming to remember something, got out cloth napkins, handing five to Roy and keeping five to himself. They laid those out too. “Are you concerned about potentially moving away from your family?” Bruce asked.

“I know I’ll still see plenty of them no matter where I go,” Roy answered honestly. “We work together a lot, and I want Lian to stay close with all of them, so we’d visit as often as we could.”

Roy was a lot less concerned about moving away from his family than Jason had been. Roy had made his peace with Ollie after their tumultuous history. He had good relationships with everyone now. But Jason was still rebuilding the bridges he’d burnt. Hopefully today would be one more step in the right direction for him.

Roy and Bruce finished setting the table. Roy made to return to the kitchen, but Bruce held out a hand to signal for him to stay. “Wait. Before we go back, there’s one more thing I wanted to address with you.”

Here it was. The shovel talk. “Go ahead,” Roy prompted. “If I break Jason’s heart, you’ll…?” Roy didn’t think Bruce would threaten to kill him; everyone knew he didn’t do that. But there were a lot of other things he could threaten that were potentially worse than death.

But Bruce shook his head. “Not that. That goes without saying. And I think my oldest would give you more hell for it than I would.” That was true. Dick would never let Roy live it down if he broke Jason’s heart. “I wanted to thank you.”

Roy couldn’t keep the surprise from registering on his face. Saying “thank you” was not the sort of thing Bruce did, if all the stories Dick and Jason (and Ollie and Dinah and everyone else who knew or had worked with Bruce) told were to be believed. It was right up there with “I’m sorry.” It just wasn’t in Batman’s vocabulary.

Nevertheless, Bruce continued, “You and Lian have made an enormous difference in Jason’s life. He’s much happier than he used to be.”

Roy was genuinely touched. He knew he made Jason happy; Jason made him happy too. But the knowledge that he made Jason so happy that even Jason’s semi-estranged father had noticed a difference – an “enormous difference” – was really special.

“He deserves it,” Roy said sincerely.

Bruce gave the hint of a smile. “I agree.”

They returned to the kitchen. Jason shot Roy another significant look, like he wanted to know what Bruce had said to him in the dining room. Roy made a face that hopefully conveyed that everything was fine, and Jason relaxed marginally.

Not long after that, the rest of the family started to trickle in: Dick, Lian, and Damian from the living room and Tim, Cass, and Duke from the Batcave. Alfred served dinner and then sat and ate with them. It was a lively meal, everyone talking over each other: Dick asking Lian about her school, Bruce asking Duke about his patrol, Jason teasing Tim about a boy, Cass and Damian arguing about a movie they’d recently watched.

It was a lot like Thanksgiving at Ollie’s, Roy mused, only louder. And the food was better. Ollie was a decent cook, but he couldn’t beat the combined powers of Alfred and Jason.

Even after everyone was finished eating, the conversations continued. At one point, Jason loudly cleared his throat, and everyone turned to look at him.

“Roy and I have an announcement,” he said.

Dick looked excited; he knew what the announcement was. Everyone else looked surprised.

“Are you getting married?” Tim asked, confused.

Roy choked on the glass of water he was sipping. Jason had sort of phrased it in a way where it sounded like he and Roy were getting married. (Or one of them was pregnant, but since that wasn’t biologically possible, the marriage assumption was a fair bet.)

“No,” Jason said, rolling his eyes. “We’re moving in together.”

For a split second, everyone was silent. Roy looked around the room. Alfred was wearing an expression of idle curiosity. Bruce’s face was carefully neutral. Dick was smiling, Damian looked like he couldn’t care less, and Lian wasn’t paying attention. Tim, Cass, and Duke seemed like they were waiting for more details.

Cass spoke up first. “Where?”

“Not California,” Duke said, with the cadence of a joke. Apparently Jason’s anti-California stance was common knowledge.

“New York,” Jason told everyone.

Some of Bruce’s expressionlessness faded away. He looked pleased. “That’s not too far.”

“That was one of the reasons we chose it,” Roy said.

“What’s your timeline?” Bruce asked.

“We’re moving this summer,” Jason told him.

“After Lian is done with school,” Roy added.

Dick piped up eagerly. “We’ll help you move.”

Duke smiled and nodded his agreement. “You won’t need to hire movers, with how many of us there are.”

“I could get Kon, Bart, and Cassie to help too,” Tim offered.

“I can ask Steph,” Cass said.

Jason cut in. “We don’t need a whole army. We don’t own that much stuff.”

“My family will be there too,” Roy provided. Fourteen people – thirteen, not counting Lian, who probably wouldn’t be much help at her size – was more than enough to move everything Roy and Jason owned into a two-bedroom apartment in New York. Roy appreciated everyone’s enthusiasm, though.

“Exactly,” Jason agreed.

The table broke out into chatter: projecting how long it took to drive between New York and Gotham on any given day, wondering where in New York Roy and Jason would settle down, debating New York versus Gotham, estimating how much crime there was in New York, listing all the heroes that currently operated there. Roy could tell Jason was overwhelmed, so he reached under the table, took Jason’s hand, and squeezed. Jason caught his gaze, and Roy smiled.

All things considered, Jason’s family had reacted really well. Roy hadn’t expected Jason’s family to receive the news poorly, but this was even better than he could have imagined. They were all so supportive. No one seemed overly upset that Jason was moving away. They all seemed glad that Jason would still be relatively nearby. They were offering to help with the logistics.

“Will you still join us for family dinners?” Alfred asked Jason, and everyone else quieted down to hear Jason’s answer.

Jason reacted like a deer in headlights before pulling himself together. “I’ll try to come to as many of them as I can,” he said.

“And we’ll keep splitting holidays,” Roy added, taking some of the attention away from Jason. “This year it’s Christmas with my family and Thanksgiving here.”

“Maybe one year we could do a joint Thanksgiving,” Bruce suggested. “I could check if Oliver has any interest.”

“That’ll be chaotic,” Dick said, voicing what Roy (and probably everyone else) was thinking. He hadn’t even had Jason over for a Queen family holiday yet. Mostly because he didn’t trust Jason and Ollie around each other. There was bound to be a fight.

“How many siblings do you have?” Duke asked Roy.

“Just two,” Roy told him. “Connor and Mia.”

“That’s not too bad.”

“But add that to the ten of us, plus Ollie and Dinah,” Tim pointed out.

“We’ve got the space,” Bruce said, undeterred by the threat of chaos. A man with six children had to get used to chaos, Roy had to assume. He literally couldn’t imagine it. Roy just had Lian, and she was already more than enough to keep him busy. He was glad Jason didn’t want a big family. (They’d talked about it, when they’d talked about moving in together. They’d talked about marriage, too, and had both determined that they weren’t in any rush. As for kids, Jason was open to adopting or fostering, but “not in the near future.” Roy agreed.)

Bruce was right about having enough space to host a joint Thanksgiving. Even with ten of them here today, there was room at the table for more.

“Ollie could bring some side dishes.” Roy turned to Alfred with a smirk. “As long as Alfred is willing to break his rule about allowing guests to contribute.”

“I’ll consider it,” Alfred replied, echoing Roy’s humor in his own British way.

“Is Ollie a good cook?” Cass asked.

“He’s no Alfred, but he’s got a few tricks up his sleeve,” Roy told her.

Lian finally spoke up, interrupting the adults’ conversation. “Daddy, can I go play?”

She must have been bored out of her mind, sitting here listening to her dad and his boyfriend talk about moving and plan future holidays. Roy smiled and patted her on the back. “Sure thing, just stay inside, okay?”

Lian hopped out of her seat. “Okay!”

She’d insisted on sitting next to Damian, and now she tugged on the sleeve of his shirt. “Damian, will you come color with me?”

Damian looked at her like she’d asked him to give her a million dollars, or something equally ridiculous. He blinked. “Um… okay.”

Lian took Damian by the hand and led him out of the room. Titus, who’d been laying on the floor next to Damian’s chair, followed them.

Once they were out of earshot, Dick grinned and said, “Your kid made a friend today, Roy.”

Roy was surprised, but not that surprised. Lian could charm anyone. “Looks like she did.”

If this was how it was going to go every time Roy and Lian visited the Waynes with Jason, maybe, Roy thought, they should do it more often.

Lian

After dinner, Lian colored with Damian again. This time it was just the two of them, and Titus. Lian didn’t know where Dick was. He was probably still talking with the other grown-ups in the dining room. They were talking forever before Roy told Lian she could go play.

Bruce – Jason’s dad, Lian remembered, like Ollie was Roy’s dad, and Roy was Lian’s dad – came into the living room after a while and sat with them. He and Damian talked. Lian didn’t pay attention.

She was coloring something very important, a picture of Damian. She’d drawn a picture of Dick already before she came, and gave it to him, and he’d promised to hang it up in his house. But she hadn’t drawn pictures for Jason’s other brothers or his sister. She wished she had time to draw all of them, but since Damian was here, she would draw him. She would have to remember what Tim and Duke and Cass looked like so she could draw them later. Maybe Jason had pictures of them on his phone that he could show her. He had lots of pictures of Roy and Lian on his phone.

Drawing Damian was sort of like drawing Dick. Lian used the same color for his hair, black. She made it straight instead of curly. She had a set of special crayons with all the different skin colors – Roy had bought them for her and put them in her backpack – so she could get that exactly right. (She made Damian sit still while she held up different crayons to his face before deciding on the right one.) Instead of coloring Damian’s clothes blue, like she did for Dick, or black, like she did for Jason, she colored them green, because Damian had said it was his favorite color. Then she drew Titus, dark brown, next to Damian.

She held up the finished result. “Look.”

Damian looked. “That’s me and Titus,” he observed.

“I drew you green because it’s your favorite color,” she said.

Damian nodded. He looked over at Bruce, then back at Lian. “You should show my father. My, uh, dad,” he clarified.

Lian blinked at him. She didn’t know who Damian’s dad was. Not Jason. Jason was his brother.

Wait. Lian thought hard about it. Damian was Jason’s brother. And Bruce was Jason’s dad. So Bruce was Damian’s dad. Once she put it together, she smiled, stood, and walked over to where Bruce was sitting in an armchair, frowning at his iPad.

“Damian says to show you this,” she reported when Bruce looked up at her. Bruce went from frowning at his iPad to frowning at her picture.

“Is that… Damian and Titus?” he guessed. Lian nodded. “It’s good work. You’re a very talented artist for your age.”

Lian sat back down with Damian, feeling proud. “Do you think I’ll be as good as you someday?” she asked.

“If you keep practicing,” Damian said.

Roy came into the living room. He walked over and crouched next to Lian, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It’s time to go, princess,” he said. “Put your things away.”

Lian looked up at him and pouted. She wasn’t ready to go yet. She’d just decided to start another picture. She was going to draw Bruce this time. Damian had told her to keep practicing, so that was what she was going to do.

“I don’t wanna go,” she told her dad.

Roy smiled at her and kissed her on the cheek. “We can come back later, okay?”

“Later” could mean a lot of different things. Sometimes “later” meant tomorrow or even the same day, but sometimes it meant a long time. Lian didn’t want to have to wait too long to come back. She liked it here. Dick was here. Damian was here. Jason’s whole family was here. The food was yummy. Damian had a dog. “When?” she asked.

“Maybe… Hanukkah?” Roy suggested. He wasn’t looking at Lian anymore. He was looking at Bruce.

“You’re welcome to join us for Hanukkah,” Bruce said.

Roy turned back to Lian. “Maybe Hanukkah.”

Lian knew Hanukkah. She’d learned about it in school. She knew it was close to Christmas, and Christmas was close to Thanksgiving, so it couldn’t be too far away. “How soon is that?”

Roy turned to Bruce again. “When is Hanukkah this year?”

“Next week.”

Roy frowned. “We can try to make it for the eighth night, at least. I can’t let Lian miss too much school.”

“Of course,” Bruce said.

“We might come back in two weeks, okay princess?” Roy told Lian. “And don’t forget, we get to see Ollie and Dinah and Connor and Mia for Christmas.”

Lian had so many people she needed to draw. She was going to get a lot of practice. “Okay,” she said, satisfied. Two weeks wasn’t too long.

Roy stood, patting Lian on the shoulder. “And when we move to New York, we’ll be closer to Gotham, so we can visit more.”

Gotham. That was where Jason lived. And Jason’s family. So, where they were now. And New York was close to Gotham. Lian hadn’t known that. That made her like New York more.

“Put your things away,” Roy instructed. “I’m going to find Dick so we can say goodbye.”

Roy left. Lian listened and put her crayons in their boxes and her papers in their folders and put all of her coloring supplies in her backpack and zipped it up. It had Wonder Woman on it. Wonder Woman was Jason’s favorite. Lian’s dad was her favorite, and then Jason, and then Ollie and Dinah and Connor and Mia and Dick, but Wonder Woman was good too.

“I’m going home now,” Lian said to Damian once she was all packed.

“I know,” Damian said. “I heard.”

Lian looked down at Titus, who lifted his head up. She scratched him between his ears like Damian had said that he liked. “You’re so lucky you have a dog. I wish I could have a dog.”

“You could convince your dad to get you one,” Damian told her. “Next time you come over I’ll teach you some manipulation techniques. You’ll be very good at them.”

“Damian,” Bruce said, like Damian was in trouble. Damian ignored him.

“Will you keep my picture that I drew?” Lian asked, holding out her picture of Damian and Titus. Damian took it and looked at it.

“I suppose.”

“You can put it on the fridge,” Lian suggested. Her pictures were on the fridge at every house she went to. Jason’s house, Dick’s house, Ollie and Dinah’s house, her house.

“I’d rather put it in my room,” Damian said. “I would see it more often.”

Roy came back with Dick. Dick crouched down and hugged Lian. Dick gave the best hugs.

“Are you leaving, jelly bean?” Lian nodded. “Tell your daddy he has to bring you for Hanukkah.”

“Dick—” Roy said. Dick interrupted him.

“No excuses.” He stood up and looked at Roy. “I don’t see you enough. I’m going to use your relationship with my brother to my advantage.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Of course you are.”

Dick smiled at him. “I’ll see you around, okay?” He hugged Roy too, and Roy hugged him back, and also smiled. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“You wouldn’t let me,” Roy said.

“I wouldn’t.”

Jason came in from the kitchen. “I’m ready,” he told everyone, mostly Roy. “I just had to say goodbye to Alfred.”

Dick put his hands on his hips. “And what about your big brother?” he asked.

“What about him?” Jason replied. He sounded like he was teasing. Jason liked to tease. Sometimes he did it too much and Roy had to tell him to “knock it off.”

Dick rolled his eyes. He grabbed Jason by the shoulder and pulled him in for a hug. “You’re insufferable,” he said. Lian didn’t know what that word meant, but she’d heard Roy use it for Jason before.

After Dick released him, Jason turned to Bruce. “No family dinner tomorrow, right?”

“Not this week,” Bruce said. “I think Alfred earned a break. You did too.”

Jason nodded. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “I guess I’ll see you for Hanukkah, then.”

“I told Roy he and Lian are welcome to come with you.”

“We’d probably just come for the eighth night,” Roy said to Jason. “If that’s alright with you.”

Jason looked at him. He looked surprised. “It’s… I…”

“We’ll talk about it,” Roy promised. He reached out a hand to Lian. “Come on, princess.”

Lian took Roy’s hand. She waved goodbye to everyone. “Bye, Uncle Dick! Bye, Uncle Damian! Bye, um…” She didn’t know what to call Bruce.

Jason leaned down and whispered to her: “Grandpa.”

Like Grandpa Ollie. Lian smiled. “Bye, Grandpa!”

Bruce looked surprised. Lian saw Jason wink at him. “See ya, Gramps.”

Outside in the car, Lian buckled herself into her booster seat. Roy and Jason sat in the front. Roy turned the car on, but he didn’t start driving yet.

“You already want to come back for Hanukkah?” Jason asked him.

Roy shrugged. “I had a good time. Lian had a good time.” He turned around. “You had a good time, right, princess?”

Lian nodded. Except for all the grown-ups talking after dinner. That part was boring. But she liked doing gymnastics with Dick, and coloring with Damian, and meeting Titus, and eating the yummy dinner that Alfred and Jason made.

Roy spoke to Jason again. “And my family doesn’t celebrate Hanukkah,” he added. “We don’t have to, though.”

“No, it’s… I…” Jason stopped for a second, then started again. “Sure. It’ll be fine.”

“Just the eighth night,” Roy told him.

“Yeah. We can do that.”

Roy leaned over and kissed Jason. It was just a short kiss, so it wasn’t gross. Roy was holding Jason’s hand. Lian liked holding Roy’s hand, and she knew Jason liked it too. Roy was good at holding hands.

“Try not to freak out about it, okay?” he said. “You gotta stop expecting your family to ruin everything. They’re not going to. Even if they wanted to – which they don’t – they couldn’t. Nothing could ruin this. Besides, I thought today went great.”

“It was fine, yeah,” Jason agreed quietly.

Roy kissed Jason again. Another short one. “I love you. Lian loves you. Right, princess?”

“I love you, Jayjay,” she said, smiling.

Jason turned and looked at her. He was smiling too. “I love you too, Lian.”

Roy let go of Jason’s hand so he could start driving. He didn’t say anything else. Neither did Jason. Lian watched them for a little bit, then looked out the window.

She did love Jason. When he’d started coming to visit more often, Lian had been really happy. Every time Jason visited, they did something fun. They went to the park or the zoo or the movies. And Roy was always really happy when Jason visited too, and even after Jason left he would be extra happy for a while.

Then Lian and Roy had started visiting Jason too. Jason’s house was smaller than Lian’s was, but it had way better food, because Jason cooked all the food, and Jason was so good at cooking. And he started hanging Lian’s pictures on his fridge. He kept some of her things there in case she forgot to pack anything. And every time Roy took Lian to visit Jason, she also got to visit Dick, so it was twice as special. And now maybe she would also get to visit Jason’s whole family every time they came, which would be even better.

And soon Lian and Roy would move to New York with Jason, and they would all live together. Lian was sad about moving away from her friends and Ollie and Dinah and Connor and Mia, but Roy promised they would still visit all the time, and she would make new friends in New York. And now she knew she would get to visit Jason’s family more. And she would see Jason every day. He would be like her second dad. Which would be better than having just one dad, she thought.

She just needed to figure out how to convince Roy to get her a dog when they moved. She hoped Damian could help her. She really, really, really wanted a dog. A big one, like Titus, or a little one that would sit in her lap.

When she’d asked Roy before if she could have a dog, he always said no, because he had to take care of her, and that was his “number one priority,” and he didn’t have time to also take care of a dog, but they could “talk about it when Lian got older.” But if Jason lived with them, then there would be two grown-ups in charge, one for Lian and one for the dog, and they could take turns. Lian thought that would probably work.

They’d been driving for a while before anyone said anything else. “Do you think Ollie would let me come to Christmas?” Jason asked. He was talking to Roy.

“I think I could convince him,” Roy said. “Do you want to?”

“You spent a holiday with my family. Now it’s my turn.”

At the next stoplight, Roy turned to look at Jason. “Alright.” He smiled. “Although, technically, I’m about to spend another holiday with your family. So maybe you should stay in Star City for New Year’s. Then we’ll be even.”

“I was there for New Year’s last year,” Jason pointed out.

“And I was in Gotham for Valentine’s Day,” Roy said.

Jason grinned. “If you want me to kiss you at midnight on New Year’s again, all you have to do is ask.”

The light turned green. Roy turned his attention back to the road. “That was your idea, Romeo.”

“Have you even read that play since high school?” Jason asked, teasing.

“Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t even read it in high school,” Roy told him. “But I’ve seen the movie.”

“Which one?”

“The one with Leonardo DiCaprio.”

“I’ll allow it.”

Roy and Jason were talking about things Lian didn’t know about, like books. Jason liked books, but not the same books that Lian read, like Magic Tree House. Books for grown-ups, which he said he and Lian could read together when she was older. Lian liked reading with Jason.

Lian stopped listening and went back to looking out the window. She noticed when they got to Jason’s street. She recognized it. Roy found a parking spot and came around to open Lian’s door for her, and they all went inside. As soon as Jason closed and locked the door, he grabbed Roy and kissed him. It wasn’t just a short kiss. Lian made a face.

“Jayjay, stop, that’s gross!”

Jason pulled away from Roy, laughing. He picked Lian up and spun her around. He was really strong, and he could spin Lian around until she got dizzy, but today he just spun her a little and then set her back down. “Sorry, Lian. Sometimes I can’t help it.”