There's a The Sinner and the Sadist easter egg in here! See if you can find it ;)

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Bruce and Tim share an uncomfortable look across the cargo plane. The roar of the ARGUS aircraft does nothing to smother the awkward atmosphere. And it is definitely not helped by Nightwing, who is staring wistfully out of the cargo door window with his back to his family.

"You're brooding like a teen movie vampire!" Jason shouts over the top of the engines.

Though they all know Nightwing hears him, the older does not move. 

He thought they, he and Cleo, had agreed to tell each other everything. At the same time he is aware that there are still secrets between them. But...she was engaged before. That was pretty close to home. 

'Close to home', he doesn't even know if that's fair to say. What 'home' did they have but one made of a contract built on desperation and lies? When they spoke about Jack did she not think it was worth telling him?'

"He's acting like their marriage is real or something. Did he forget it's arranged?" Jason says it to everyone but looks at Barbara for a response. She stares back at him blankly before her eyes flicker to Dick behind her spectacles. 

"I don't think he forgot," she responds, so quietly Jason hardly hears her, "I think it...developed."

She stands and makes her way towards her ex-boyfriend, ignoring Jason's curious stare. It doesn't take a genius to know that he probably sees the same thing she does; however they perceive Dick's marriage is not what it really is.

"Dick?" She calls out on approach, not wanting to spook him.

His heads turns just the slightest, "I'm fine, Babs."

Whilst he's always been a bit dramatic, Dick has never been reluctant to share his feelings with her, even after they broke up. She watches him quietly for a moment and goes over the facts in her head. Over the past few weeks they all noticed a change in him. He was happier, taking fewer risks, less lethargic, going home instead of staying at the manor.

"You're in pretty deep, huh?" She decides to say, then admits with an awkward laugh, "Guess that's what I was so worried about."

Dick's head snaps around to her, his face contorted by a look of both suspicion and confusion.

"What do you mean?" He's an idiot.

"Well, I guess when you looked at her picture for the first time, I saw...something," Barbara thinks it might be the safest word to use, "Something in your eyes. Guess that's why I was kind of worried."

He doesn't relax, but he does turn away from the window and leans his shoulder on it, eyes drawn to the floor.

"I just thought that she knew she could trust me."

Despite his defeated tone, Barbara calls him out, "Can she? Cleo thinks you're in Canada for business, but you're in Relaysia digging up her past instead."

He turns back to her with wide eyes, "You know that's not-"

"I know," she holds her hands up, "but the evidence we have pretty much clears her of suspicion. I'm not saying you should tell her you're a guy who runs on rooftops at night wearing a mask and spandex."

Dick gives her a sharp look, but it morphs into a softer one, understanding her point.

"I'm just suggesting that you make her aware of your investigation before you go questioning her about her deceased fiancé. Knowing you you'll mess it up and come off as the bad guy. Just...think before you speak, hm?"

Barbara steps away from him but doesn't move her eyes, reinforcing her point.

"I thought you didn't like her?" He calls.

She shrugs, "I didn't, when I thought she was the culprit. Now I can't wait to meet her. Anyone who has you falling for her this fast has to be special."

Leaving him with the not-so-subtle hint, Barbara spins around and hurries away, not wanting to give him anymore than that. He may be brilliant, but when it comes to matters of his own heart Dick is either on it or completely off.

And in this case, Barbara isn't really sure. 

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"Smile crocodile."

"You make me want to die."

Damian clearly wants to squirm, elbow and kick, but it's not going to happen while we stand on a stage, my hands on his shoulders, both of us dressed appropriately to address the media.

An emergency press conference was called for damage control. A company in association with both Wayne Ent. and Perich Inc., Logica Holdings, has had to close following evidence of extortion. Receipts showed up displaying unauthorised billion dollar transactions from Logica Holdings accounts, to a offshore account with a Relaysian business number.

In other words, someone from Logica Holdings is doing the same things as the person (likely my father) taking Perich money and stock and sending it to foreign armies. It could be the same person, it could be unrelated.

The important thing is that Logica Holdings had stock in both Wayne Enterprises and Perich Inc. It's what Holding companies do- hold stock. It means they have a say in things that go on and are considered the 'insiders' of the business.

So thanks to that the media are questioning both companies and wondering if we're doing the same thing. Whilst my father can account for Perich Inc., the Waynes can only tweet from 'Canada'. It's not the same. There are two Wayne family members in Gotham right now and unfortunately one is a baby-faced asshole.

The other is me.

I got that call early in the morning while I was delirious and waking up to a cold bed. An hour later I was at Wayne Manor to get Damian, then heading here, to Wayne Enterprises. Not in my own car though, no- in a Wayne limo driven by their nice butler.

The CEO, Lucius, nods at me. I release Damian and straighten my cream-coloured pantsuit before stepping up to the podium at the head of the conference room. It's lined with a few security and I am faced with about thirty or so reporters and journalists, the occasional clicking of cameras aggravating me by the minute.

Thanks to my training I was able to memorise the basic introduction, something to start off with and ward off suspicion. I'm not prone to stage fright or anything. It's the knowledge that I could fuck this up quite easily that has me with damp palms and a racing heart.

"Thank you all for coming today. As you know, last night the corporate team of Logica Holdings was apprehended for extortion and illegal funding pertaining to arming foreign rebels. It is true that Logica Holdings held stock at Wayne Enterprises. This morning I'm here to answer any questions you might have, but first I must declare that Wayne Enterprises has no connection to any of Logica Holding's illegal trade. They owned stock in our subsidiary company Steelest, which builds and supplies to heavy machinery factories. They also owned stock in our subsidiary company Beautica which builds and supplies to cosmetic factories. I will be answering topic questions only, though I know the first will be about my presence here- Mr Wayne, my husband and the rest of our family are currently in Canada. This conference is a preference of ours to address public concern, which is something we care deeply for. Off topic questions will not be accepted."

That was something their lawyers stressed on. The woman who I once referred to as Maroon when she wrote out our marriage contract, is actually named Jacinda. She is standing with Lucius and Damian behind me.

Hands shoot up from the crowd of reporters. They all look like vultures to me, but Jacinda made it very clear who to avoid.

I nod at a lady in the front row and she stands, a familiar face who Jacinda said is very professional, "Vicki Vale, Gotham Gazette- Has Wayne Enterprises commenced investigations into its own business to ensure no illegal activity is occurring?"

"Such a practice is actually regular within all alpha companies such as Wayne Enterprises, but they were in this case increased as little detail has been given on who is responsible for the Logica trades, whether it was a sole radical or a group. As a result we wanted to be beyond positive that individuals working for Wayne Enterprises and its subsidiaries are not engaging in illicit activity. Next?"

Everyone shouts for my attention, "Mrs Grayson, Mrs Grayson!" or "Miss Perich, Miss Perich!". 

I point at a young man who is sitting on the far right.

"Cameron Ostwell, GC Morning News- If it true that you yourself fought in Relaysia during your time in the Marines?"

Ugh, War Fanboy. The kind who claims to be a history buff because he can name all the weapons the Nazi's used.

I feel Jacinda lean in from behind me, "Off topic question, don't feel obliged."

I nod, but decide to answer anyway, "Though that's off-topic, it is true. There is no connection. Next?"

The following two are good questions, asking the stuff people should know about the situation. Another I can't answer because details have not been released to us, or the public.

I'm going to have to find out for myself.

I try not to relax because when I pick the next person I regret it instantly. I recognise the reporter from a few weeks back. Dick was complaining about her attempt at raising gossip. A picture of us looking less than pleased circled the internet with some sleazy caption about 'trouble in paradise'.

"Jessie Brenic, Gotham Gazette- Has there been any investigation into your connections with Logica Holdings considering you are the connection between two of its subsidiaries Wayne Enterprises and Perich Incorporated?"

Everyone looks as thrown by that question as me, muttering about how stupid or interesting it it. Jacinda moves again but I start talking.

"Miss Brenic, was it? How much do you know about Logica Holdings?" Her hungry eyes flicker down to her notes like a response is there, "Is it your belief that Perich and Wayne are the only companies they work with? Because I can clear that up for you right now. Logica holdings had stock in 42 other companies. That's forty, other than the two my family owns. So no, there have been no investigations into 'my connections' with Logica seeing as there are none. The more curious matter is your connection to such a story. Do you not write gossip pieces for Gotham Gazette? Is such a serious matter considered gossip? Is Gotham Gazette not already represented here by Miss Vale's educated presence? I suppose the other questions you have written in your Sorority grade notebook are attempts at implementing my family in something that is within your capacity to write about. This is a conversation for people who want the truth, Miss Brenic." I look at the security who are standing against the wall to the right. "Please escort her out. Next?"

Most of the reporter's eyes follow her, so Vicki Vale stands up again, "Mrs Grayson, is there any evidence that the businesses targeted correlate to the efforts of the Relaysian rebels? As in, they've targeted factories, is there a reason for that?"

Even after, Vicki's question remains in mind, as I sit at the dining table at Wayne Manor with Damian across from me and Alfred serving tea. Maybe I have been looking at this all wrong. If I look at the specific areas of Perich Inc. that have been ebbed away, maybe that will lead to Zelrich.

"Cake, Miss Perich?" Alfred asks, placing a cloche on the table. I don't intend to be here long. I want to go to my office and do some investigating.

"Ah, no thank you Alfred."

He lifts the cloche to reveal not pretty little tea cakes, but- "Are you sure? They are crab cakes. Master Grayson informed me of your partiality to seafood."

I blink at the little patties sitting neatly on top of each other, golden with green specks of spring onion and tarragon.

"Well...In that case, thank you."

I put my phone down and sit up. Across from me Damian is served with some weird soup.

"Are you pescatarian?" He murmurs without looking up.

"Not officially," I respond, picking a crab cake up carefully, "But I rarely eat meat."

He doesn't move or say anything. I take a bite and immediately get shivers- No wonder Dick raves about Alfred's cooking. These are better than a classic seaside crab cake.

"You?" I ask, noticing Damian's soup does look quite green.

"I am a vegetarian."

I think of asking how long it's been, but it feels too chummy for the wall we're trying to put back up between us, so I refrain and go back to texting Ethan. Just as I start typing a message asking about Perich Inc.'s involvement with Logica, a heavy woof practically makes the house shake.

Instantly the dining room feels a lot more exposed.

"I should go," I say, moving to stand.

"He is locked in my bedroom. Grayson will be home any minute, you should remain to drive him home." I get stuck in this weird half-sitting, half-running away pose. "Besides, you should attempt to overcome your fears, even more so with your tenure here."

The way this kid talks, I swear.

Wait-

"Tenure? Kiddo, this marriage is done in a few months."

He finally looks up from the novel in his hand, dropping his spoon into his soup loudly. He stares at me with something strong, but I can't figure out if it's anger or frustration.

"Idiot," he mutters.

"You really are a little bastard, you know that?"

He mumbles something under his breath as he gets up and walks away. I distinctly hear the words 'oblivious' and 'deserve'. I begrudgingly munch on my fourth crab cake as I glare at his retreating back.

"You'll have to forgive Master Damian, Miss Perich. He has never had a penchant for politeness," Alfred says as he reappears to collect Damian's dishes.

"It's alright, he reminds me of my brother Ethan. I'm used to dealing with bratty younger siblings."

"You must miss your siblings," he responds. No one has said something like that to me in awhile. 

"Everyday."

Whilst I'll deny missing certain others, there's no point in hiding how much I miss Demitri, Ethan, Fantasia, Gordon, Hallow, Ignatier, Jeremy, Klover and Logan. If that's all of them.

Talking on the phone and texting and video chat aren't the same as being physically there. I want to do Logan's homework with him, go to Jeremy and Klover's games and Ignatier's recitals, stop Hallow from leaving the house wearing nothing but strings and make sure Gordon isn't up to anything illegal. I miss watching Fantasia turn down a proposal a day and listening to Ethan pretend to hate being lovey-dovey with Chris and tease Demitri about the amount of times he has been rejected that week.

I miss being a big sister.

"Perich. I am bringing Titus downstairs," Damian calls out from the distance.

"Master Damian-"

"Silence, Pennyworth."

"Like your father you lack a basic understanding pacing. Take Titus back upstairs and put him in your room," Alfred disappears around the wall towards the staircase.

Also, sick burn on Bruce. 

"He needs to..." Damian trails off like he can't bring himself to imply Titus needs to relieve himself. 

I can't see any of them, but I hear the clicking of Titus' claws as Damian walks him down the stairs hidden behind the wall that separates dining from foyer. If prepared, if I know there's a dog present, I can handle being in the same room. Damian caught me off guard that time he was in the apartment.

Through the far door I see Damian walking with the ginormous canine towards the back

My attention is drawn in the other direction when I hear car doors slamming. I haven't seen Dick in a few days and the excitement ramps up. I fight it down by placing the cloche back on the crab cakes and taking a deep breath. I hope Alfred lets me take these home.

"Oh good, they're here, you can finally leave my house," Damian strides in with his nose in the air. Trust this kid to feel awkward standing outside with his dog while it does its business.

"Is it though?" I respond, which gets a glare in return. 

Alfred opens the door and Tim enters first, not even looking around before he rushes upstairs. Bruce follows in a calmer fashion, greeting Alfred before heading our way. Jason must have gone home already, because right after Bruce is Dick... and 'Babs<3'.

"Have you met Gordon, Perich?"

I shoot Damian a sharp look as I feel my mood ultimately drop. When my eyes meet my husbands I expect either a stupid smile or a sheepish look, but it's completely the opposite.

A part of me I am now cursing was actually convinced it would be a kiss and a hug reunion. Something warm, but we both some to be pretty cold right now.

I stand up with my bag, 'accidentally' knocking it into Damian's face.

"Hey," Dick begins, sounding a little strained, "You did a really great job at that conference." His smile doesn't reach his eyes. He doesn't move in for a hug, a kiss, a touch, anything.

"Especially against Jess Brenic, she's always been a snake," Barbara adds, coming up behind him but keeping a considerable distance.

I keep my expression as blank as possible. At this point it's an automatic reaction.

"Thanks," I say shortly, staring at her, "We haven't met. Barbara, right?"

I hold my hand out and manage to control my returned super strength when she shakes it.

"Yeah, nice to meet you."

I let go as quickly as I can. It's almost three whole awkward seconds of everyone avoiding eye contact and Damian smirking in the corner before someone speaks.

It's Bruce, who emerges from the hallway, "The papers Lucius wanted me to sign for you."

Oh right, the reason I'm here. He hands a yellow file to me.

"Thank you, needed them," is all I can think to say. I spend the moment it takes for him to leave putting it away in my bag. When he's gone I finally look back up at Dick, who hasn't even put his bags down yet. "I'm going home. Are you coming or staying?"

"Uh- Coming," He nods firmly like he's trying telling himself as well, "I'm sure Cookie misses me." That's true but I'm not giving him the satisfaction.

I look down at Damian, "Goodbye tiny satan. I hope you get the girl."

Barbara's eyes light up and she along with a newly appeared Tim jump at the chance to interrogate him. Damian is shrieking indignantly as I mumble to Barbara that it was nice meeting her.

As Dick and I walk to the car with it being close to night now, neither of us say anything. He doesn't ask what I did while he was gone and I don't ask how Canada was. It's frustrating and, well, sad.

In the car I can think of multiple things to say. I want to tell him that I saw his Academy and his award. I want to tell him that Damian and I threw down with Ian Merrybrook again. I want to tell him that Alfred's fish cake are amazing.

Instead we travel though lit-up Gotham in silence.

What have I done? Is he mad about the conference or does he think I'm extra mad about him being with Barbara? He technically didn't break the rules but it doesn't mean I'm overjoyed to meet his ex. Or that she showed up with him returning from their trip. Or the way they smile at each other.

Why am I so mad about that?

"Barbara...works at the company," he says awkwardly. It's not anything I was wanting to hear. "That's why she came with us. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

Did he walk in looking weird because he thought I was going to be mad about Barbara?

"It's fine," I say quietly.

When we pull into the apartment and I park the car (Mai's car, which he hasn't asked an explanation for yet) in the underground lot, I turn it off, but I don't move.

Neither does he.

I swallow hard and decide to start, "You going to tell me why you're acting to weird?"

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