Damian spoke again to the computer screen, "Batman. Come in Batman. Father-"

"It's no use Master Damian," Alfred placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, "we have been trying for two days now. You ought to get some rest."

As he rose from the chair, Selena entered the Batcave. Seeing that Damian was quitting his post, she marked the frustration in his eyes and the bags beneath them. She was wearing a long cardigan, and perhaps that added to the wave of maternal compassion that swept through her. Joining Alfred and the boy by the Batcomputer, Selena surprised herself by placing a tender hand on his cheek and tilting up his face. To add to the queer mood, he didn't snap at her.

"Hey, I'm taking over after you. Damian, you need some rest. Raven's making some herbal tea upstairs and Dick's coming over soon." Selena smiled.

She assumed Damian's former seat as the boy nodded silently, then left.

Remaining behind with Alfred, Selena said, "He's worried."

"I think we all are Miss Kyle. But the criminal class of Gotham, Metropolis and the like may be rejoicing." Alfred frowned.

An unexpected voice answered in a brighter tone than it's predecessors.

"Well that's what we're here for." Dick announced his presence, descending the stairs from the display of costumes.

"Ah Master Dick, very sly of you."

As Nightwing came to rest his elbow on the chair, above Selena, she greeted him wearily. It was glad news to hear that Red Robin and Batgirl (the wonderful Cassandra Cain) and Superboy (who'd been staying in Wayne Manor for a few days) were protecting the streets- on patrol.

Greater news still to the Justice League was that the gaping whole of their missing members was filled by a combination of Lanterns, Hawkman, Miss Martian, and the Titans (wherever they were needed: minus a few people).  But while the delegation of responsibilities was covered, ensuring that the four supposedly kidnapped heroes weren't dead was imperative.

It was upon thinking of this that Raven received a double-lightbulb moment that made her drop the teapot she held; thankfully, Damian's reflexes were airtight and he caught it before it could shatter in to pieces (Alfred's heart with it).

Damian precariously placed the pot on the table and walked a hand in front of Raven's face to check if she'd been possessed.

"Raven what's happened?" Asked.

She lunge forward and kissed him. Stepping back not a moment later, Raven cleared her throat and apologised. So far had the move caught him off-guard, that the tips of his ears caught fire.

Ooh well that was sudden! But I do believe she has something!

"The locator spell! Damian it could work for your dad!" She humphed, hand rubbing her jaw. "But Themyscira will have strong defences against detection. Which also makes me think that- ohhh never mind that now.."

"But the others!" Damian said. "Constantine, Zatanna- could they not amplify the spell?"

She nodded, "Absolutely- we could call them." Raven took her phone out f her pocket, bringing up her contacts and clicking on Zatanna's name. As she waited for the magician to pick up, Raven shelved an idea in her mind, leaving it to ponder later

***
Jessica handled the wooden weapon unsurely.

"I really think it would be better if I just watched-"

The warrior opposite her twirled her sword and brushed off the comment, "'Tis nonsense. Every woman must be trained in the art of combat. Come now," she beckoned, her voice powerfully accented  "I open you to the first strike." The Amazon spread her arms wide, entreating Jessica.

The Lantern looked to Batman for moral support but found himself already engaged in a fight with another Amazon. She wouldn't find a cheerleader in him then.

Gulping, Jessica looked for what she thought might be an easy, unguarded target on the Amazon's body and lunged for the thigh of her front leg. The soft coils of the Amazon's hair grazed her cheek, that was all Jessica felt before a sword edge lay at her throat.

"A weak attempt," the woman chuckled, Jessica's head level with her mighty shoulders, "but I sense potential in thine blood and bones."

Jessica wished to turn her head to see her opponent, but the convenient position of being caught between a sword and the warrior's broad torso made that difficult- lest she wish to cut off her head in the process.

"Ahah- um...thank you..?" Jessica strained her neck to get it as far away from the blade as possible. "Can- I- Go...please?"

Having forgotten her own strength, the Amazon dropped her hold on Jessica and her sword fell to the floor. Rubbing her neck, Jessica exhaled loudly, realising that she was (perhaps) way, way out of her depth when it came to physical combat. These were a people of warriors whose biceps made even Superman's arms look limp.

While Jessica mentally fretted over her complete and utter lack of physical combat knowledge, the Amazon in front of her faced her own dilemma. Andromeda pushed the loose curls that had fallen in to her face behind her ears. By the lovingly shaking heads of her fellow Amazon spectators, it was apparent that she'd been overzealous again- an unfortunate characteristic of hers throughout the millennia of her existence.

Finally settling her fumbling hands on her hips, Andromeda began in an abashed tone, "My apologies. I had lost myself in the heat of the moment." Jessica looked up at her, eyes wide and mouth hanging open a little.

The Lantern hadn't paid much attention to her training partner's face, only the point of her sword. Now that she did, however, the sheer majesty of this opponent. In that moment, with the high sun smiling on the cheeks of the Amazon whose crests shone with innate gold, a big red button was pressed in Jessica Cruz's head.

Gay panic.

Andromeda, formerly of ancient Abyssinia, now of Themyscira, was doubtlessly the most splendid entity that Jessica had ever lain eyes upon. She could simply melt on those mountainous shoulders, or in the almond eyes of midnight; those calves were more impressive than WonderWoman's (and she hadn't skipped leg-day for at least three-hundred and fifty years).

Noticing the transfixed, captivated stare of their sister in arms, many of Andromeda's comrades comically buried faces in hands and slapped their foreheads.

"There is no hope for that one." One Amazon endearingly said, leaning in to whisper to another.

The other warrior hummed her agreement, watching the two with a smirk.

Meanwhile, its suffice to say, Batman was getting his arse handed to him. His reflexes were sharper than sharp, his movements hit the air with thwacks and snaps that seemed to freeze the air like lightening. An unequivocal predator, Batman was a machine of pure muscle and focus.

And yet...

His opponent was the wind. Untouchable. Flittering past each of his strikes to land another that he could never anticipate. Her fighting style was untraceable. No patten to the movements; nothing to let her slip.

Batman fought and trained with speedsters before; this woman was not of them. She wasn't simply moving quickly, she seemed to be carried by the air a if it did her bidding. The very earth itself felt beneath his feet as if they favoured her.

The face behind his humiliating stumbles was a mystery, guarded by a plain bronze helmet with only a small window for him to see through. Age wasn't a question he considered contemplating- the Amazons had lived for centuries each in the least.

He was thankful when the fight was over, having failed to land all but a half-glance over the tip of the Amazon's elbow with his knee. One hand secured his head in place, a leg forced him to his knees, and the other hand held a sword to his throat.

Bruce held his hands up and the warrior stepped back. With an amiable laugh beneath the helmet, the warrior clapped Batman's shoulder, "Well fought strange male. Your reputation is well deserved."

Batman stood and shook her hand, clearing his throat, "Thank you. I must commend your abilities." He found a solidarity in the woman whose plait was peppered with gray hairs. "Your mastery in the field of combat is evident. That humiliation was almost an honour."

"Almost?"

"Almost." Batman pulled a signature (slightly awed) smirk relinquishing the woman's hand and bowing his head.

"But what do you mean 'my reputation'? How do you know of me?"

The Amazon raised her helmet to reveal wizened eyes and some deep-set wrinkles around them. A terrific grin lit her face and she tapped her nose.

"That is for me to guard and for you to worry about." She said. He noted that her accent was the same as that of Diana or her mother- he would rather place it at an odd mix between West and East Asian. Her face too, was a puzzle to him. He was certain that he hadn't seen it before, but something within him found it familiar all the same.

Batman shelved the thought for later consideration.

On the other side of the island, Diana bathed her hands in the waters that lay at the temple of her father. She splashed her face and kept her head covered by her hands, basking in the familiarity of home. An oracle awaited her within Zeus' Temple, she knew that much. Beyond that, Diana didn't know what to expect.

Standing, Diana brushed off the water from her nose and looked around her. As she did so, the ghost of a young girl seemed to prance through the thick foliage and in to the temple between the guarding pillars. Diana smiled in reminiscence. She'd spent so much of her time as a child in her father's temple, it had often gotten her in not quite a bit of trouble as she missed sessions training.

Diana lay her sword and shield at the foot of the temple, resting them against the white stone, as a sign of respect. Then she entered.

"Diana. Daughter of Zeus." The oracle sat cross-legged at the centre of the large room, with her back to the warrior. The candles burning in the brassieres that lined the walls surrounded her figure with shadows.

Diana looked up to the impassive statue of her father, then bowed her head, waiting for the oracle to continue.

"The gods summon you. Olympus calls. The whispers of a dark one shake their walls. Scales tip in the favour of chaos." She croaked.

Olympus?

Diana waited with bated breath: what was she so desperately summoned here for?

"By Apollo himself, I speak. By Hecate, I do."

The oracle hunched forward, her hair dusting the floor, and mumbled words beyond WonderWoman's understanding. From beneath the oracle, a white light began to glow. It stretched, ebbing and flowing. The marble ground was a pale lake of magic, reaching out to Diana's feet until she stood bathed in its white shine. Hecate's magic was searing, yet all of Diana's strength couldn't let her fly from it.

Throwing her head of dishevelled hair back, the oracle took a rattling gasp. At once, the temple was empty.

A.N:

Hiya my dears, I hope you enjoyed that little chapter! I know I know, no Damirae here, I'm sorry. But to make up for it, enjoy this cheeky one shot!!

***

•context: this is from just a random, chill day in the Manor within the little universe of this story. Please enjoy•

***

Damian looked adorable in an apron. Major wifey material.

Raven laughed as she eyed him, holding a hand to her mouth to try and stifle the giggles. He glared at her with narrow eyes, tying the strings in a bow behind his back.

"TT. What is it?" His nostrils flared.

Raven couldn't contain it any more and a peal of laughter escaped her. Sobering, the demon tied her hair back and said between fading chuckles, "It's just- Damian...you're so cute."

His mouth hung open and his eyebrows made an extraordinary feat wiggling around as he tried to figure out where the hell that had come from.

"Cute? Cute! Raven what are- has Todd given you alcohol?"

She shushed him by wrapping her arms around his neck and smothering his protests with a kiss. "That apron suits you is all I'm saying. Now stop your complaints and measure out a cup of flour."

Rolling his eyes lovingly, Damian stepped around a curious Titus to get the flour. Meanwhile, Raven leant over the kitchen island to get another look at the cookbook. She measured out the correct amount of Demerara sugar and chucked it in to the main mixing bowl.

The two of them worked their way through the instructions in Alfred's cook book, occasionally stumbling upon points of disagreement.

With flour dusting her hair, Raven folded her arms and pushed the recipe book towards Damian, "Why would it matter which way you mix it! It's just mixing!"

"TT. I'll have you know it makes all the difference in the world! You can't go with whatever motion you want. The dough has to be tenderly kneaded."

Raven snorted, "Oh well while you're tenderly kneading the dough, how about you bring the mariachi to serenade it and give it heart-shaped chocolates?"

The image spring to Damian's mind and he collapsed with laughter: Romeo and Juliette style, he pictured the bowl of dough resting on a balcony as a band played below it and Damian professed his love.

"D-don't be ridiculous." He chuckled. "You simply have to put live in to your cooking. It's an indisputable truth."

"When did you," she wiped some flour off of the tip of his nose, "start saying things like that?"

He grinned at her mischievously and moved her closer to him by his arms around her waist, "Perhaps when I also started doing things like baking cookies wit my girlfriend. A'outhu b'illah- I've gone civilian!" His slyness turned to something bordering a midlife crisis at seventeen years old.

"Mhmm. It's strange isn't it. Being so... normal..." Raven sighed, smiling as Pennyworth the cat rubbed his head on her legs.

Damian sighed with her, resolving, "It is indeed strange. But not in a bad way. I now see the wisdom in what Dick used to try and convince me of- about the need for more in your life than just training and fighting crime."

"It's crazy to think that I once constructed myself to meditation and training." She said, smiling. "Look at us now. That's what I call character development."

"Certainly. And while self-reflection is important, these cookies won't make themselves."

Fifteen minutes and two mini-arguments later, the cookies were in the oven. Their scent wafted through the kitchen and Damian's mouth watered. They had ages yet until the biscuits were finished (Raven had taken the initiative to set a timer). Undoubtedly the smell would attract an unwanted herd of Bats, so the bakers thought it best to take a little detour for a while.

"Detour" in this instance meaning a fairly intense few minutes of kissing upstairs which Selina had the misfortune of walking in upon. She closed the door quickly and sped down the stairs snickering madly, leaving behind two tomato-faced teenagers who eventually resumed their "detour".

At long last, the cookies lay out on a rack to cool.

Raven lay her oven mittens on the countertop as Alfred walked in. The seventeen year-olds awaited his judgement as if they stood for trial in court. The butler stood before the fruits of their labour and bent forwards to inspect the work.

He turned to the kids, "They are of excellent shape Miss Raven, Master Damian. I shall await their taste with much anticipation."

Damian might have squealed. In fact. He reckoned he did, joining Raven in a strict two seconds of unreserved celebration.

The first bite that the English butler took was nail-bitingly worrying to watch. But his words after we're all the congratulations they needed.

"Wonderful flavour! I shall be saving a few for myself if you don't mind."

They didn't mind. Not one bit.

Damian and Raven high-fived. Mission accomplished!

***
Hope you enjoyed that my dears!

Bye bye!

-Bats :)