His words ring in my ears even as we get off the ride. What I protect. Is protecting the city allowing a rapist and a killer a lighter sentence at risk?

It seems I can't escape thinking of the problem at hand; allowing Blancho's deal to go ahead or not.

"I should probably buy father something for christmas," I hear Damian say.

"Like what?" I ask. He shrugs.

"Anything. Or else I'll have to watch Drake give him something and then he'll have the chance to better me for once in his life," he huffs. I grin.

"So you haven't got him anything at all?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"There are only three people whom warrant gifts from me. I have two. A third is needed."

I see something up ahead. Something that I believe will serve well as Bruce's present from Damian.

"How about that?" I ask, pointing to one of the many booths that contain a Santa present to get photos with people. Damian scrunches his face up.

"Really?"

"Really. He'd love it," I smile. The boy sighs, before he begins almost dragging himself towards the fake Santa. He gives me a disdainful look as we join the very short queue.

We're up within two minutes. I pay the photographer, whom is dressed as an elf. Damian grumbles under his breath as he stomps over to the throne.

'Santa' grins at him as Damian stands beside him.

"What do you want for christmas, young Mr Wayne?" He asks, obviously recognising him.

I worry that he is going to answer with 'world domination' or 'your head'. Instead the Santa gets a grumpy shrug.

"Smile a little, please?" I call out. He rolls his eyes, but attains a tiny simper.

We collect the photo, which is enclosed in a red christmas card. I wonder who else Damian got presents for?

Just as the thought crosses my mind, I spot Tim and a group of boys his age (his friends I assume) up the street. Trying to keep them apart to avoid a public fight, I lead Damian to the nearest stand.

"What are we doing here?" I hear him say dismissively. I finally decide to look at out destination.

No...No.

"The Kitten's Closet?" Damian mumbles innocently. Of all the shops to come across, it's the one that Jason first took me to, so I could be disguised.

Why does this type of shop even have a stand at a Christmas parade?

At least, I'm thinking that until I notice what they are actually selling. Merchandise of heroes. Not just heroes actually. I'm sure that $600 jacket with the Joker's face on it caused some controversy.

"DA Meadow?" The shopkeeper, a pretty, tattooed gothic girl calls out. I smile and nod at her. "You like, saved my best friend from being put in jail for something she didn't do. I should sell shirts with your face on it," she says enthusiastically.

The day clothes with my face on it are sold is the day I step down from my position.

"Is there something I can help you find?" She asks. As if I-... Hang on. Hold up a second. My conversation with Jason about no presents returns to mind.

"My niece," I begin a lie. Damian frowns up at me. "She really loves some antihero. What's his name...uh...Red Head?...Hood! Red Hood. You wouldn't happen to have anything with him on it would you?" I smile sweetly.

"I do! But only in a large," she replies, reaching under her table and pulling out the shirt. It's dark grey and has the Red Hood mask outline and red bird on it.

"That's actually perfect," I smile, taking out my purse. I feel Damian burning a hole in my face with his eyes.

"That is repulsive," he comments as we walk away. I smile down at him. 

"You'll understand, one day."

We spend another whole hour and a half at the fair. Damian has around another six churros -he buys one from every stand he sees-, we go on three more rides, do some shopping, pet a donkey in a jumper, visit Grace at her Fashion exhibit and JJ who is running the concert happening at the end of the street.

"I don't understand why," he complains, munching on another churro as we wait out the front for Alfred.

"Because someone already owns them," I reply. He scoffs.

"I'd pay whatever they want. They deserve to be free," he complains. Yes, he tried to buy the petting zoo. It was more cute than an act of wealthiness if you ask me.

"Do me a favour?" I begin, reaching into one of my bags. I pull out the green, white and black giant Christmas sweater I had bought for him. He rolls his eyes.

"What?"

"Wear this on Christmas day?" I hold up the plastic it it wrapped in.

"Can I wear it now in private instead of tomorrow in front of everyone?" He bargains.

"No," I say firmly. "Actually, good idea. Wear it now to," I grin. I just want to see him loosen up a little. He deserves to be a child.

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"C'mon."

"No."

"For me?" I try, smiling. His strain is obvious.

"Fine. But only because you took me to this silly event," he growls. I laugh at him. He shrugs off his jacket and we trade. He pulls the jumper over his head roughly. "Happy?" He snaps.

"Only because you are," I reply. At that moment, Alfred pulls up. We get into the back of the car.

"Master Damian, may I say that is a lovely jumper," is the first thing the Butler says. He gives me a knowing look in the mirror and I grin back. "What did you get up to?"

Damian yawns heavily, glaring at the back of Alfred's seat. So I begin talking, telling him what we've been up to. I've never seen Alfred so expressive in a short amount of time.

"Master Damian. Do you have something to say to DA Meadow?" He says when I finish the story. Damian sighs.

"Thank you for taking me to the fair," he mumbles quietly, "Venus."

Just as we're approaching the manor, he makes some weird movement before his head is slumped into my shoulder.

I look down to find him fast asleep. Alfred notices from the front, giving the same smile again.

"You've had a very pleasing effect on him. Not to mention Jason. We are grateful," he says softly. All I can do is smile back.

I insist on taking him up to his room, but Bruce is the one that carries him. He hooks his arms beneath his son's back and knees, hoisting him out of the car.

"So even heroes take breaks, huh?" I ask quietly as we climb the stares.

"I just got back. We're on alert though," he replies lowly. So serious. 

We enter Damian's room and I cannot help but notice how plain it is for a boy his age. The most eye catching feature is his bookshelf of drawing books.

Bruce places him down.

"These are his things. Your present is in there so don't go snooping," I say. He nods, pacing back to stand in the doorway.

Quickly, I lean down and kiss Damian's forehead. He shuffles around as I pull his blanket up.

What a good kid. And what an utterly awful break to fall upon him and give him such an awful childhood. Maybe he can be healed from that though.

Silently, I step passed Bruce as he shuts the door. We walk away side-by-side, and I know that there are one of three questions coming.

Why did you visit Two-Face?

Why are you considering a deal with Blancho?

Why is my son wearing such an ugly sweater? 

"I want to thank you," he says, as we begins walking down the stairs.

"Oh it's not problem. He's a good kid and the fair-"

"No," he cuts me off, as we reach the bottom. "Not about Damian. About Jason."

What do I even say to that?"

Bruce manages to squares his shoulders and tie his hands behind his back at the same time. He looks down at the ground.

"I hadn't seen him smile for a real reason since he came back. He smiled when he killed. Smiled when he caused me pain. The other night I was on my way to speak with you. I saw the two of you putting up your tree. That's when I realised... he finally has a good reason to smile. You."

For a moment, all I can do is fiddle with my hands nervously. I automatically asses Bruce's tone and body language, but I use that to find my next words.

"He loves you, you know?" I get out, glancing at him with a smile. "He might not say it. You might not think it. But he does. You gave him the chance to be a child. The chance to...well, to live. He knows thats. He'll always love and respect you for that Bruce."

Our words hang in the air for a moment, before Alfred appears.

"Oliver Queen on the phone for you, sir," he says. Bruce nods, then looks to me, a new expression on his face.

"Thank you for... everything, Venus," he smiles kindly. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Bruce," I reply in kind.

I thank Alfred when he drops me home. He offers to help with my bags, but I tell him it's fine, that I can handle.

The lights are obviously on in my penthouse. I get in the lift knowing Jason will probably be wide awake when I get in.

"What are you doing?" I snap when I walk through the kitchen, placing my bags on the bench. He groans, rubbing his face.

"This is what I do when I'm sick. I watch movies," he replies.

"Did you take the medicine?"

"Yes."

"Your temperature?"

"Yes."

"Have you had a hot shower?"

"Yes."

"Did you at least get some sleep?"

"Yes."

"Good," I say, taking off my jewellery.

"Thanks mom," he mumbles jokingly. I roll my eyes.

"Is that what a mom does when you're sick? I really don't even know," I say honestly, sitting beside him. He throws the blanket over me an wraps an arm around my shoulders.

"I don't know either...whenever I was sick, it was Bruce and Alfred who were there. I remember this one time, Bruce gave up patrol just so he could stay home with me."

Very, very rarely does he share any Bruce moments with me. All I can do is smile at him.

"So what did you do at the fair?" He asks.

"I'll tell you as soon as you're in bed," I say.