As close friends of the Wayne family, Clark Kent and his wife had been invited to the Valentine's gala. His impressive form fitted in to a tuxedo (which managed to strain against his muscles, despite it being 'his size'), Clark zoned out of the reporter-convo taking place between Lois and the owner of Gotham Weekly and fixed his attention on Jonathan.

The poor boy was a mess that the kyrptonian couldn't help but chuckle at, making his wife shoot him a strange look. Clark's son was a mess trying to uphold a conversation with Diana's sister, only saved by the input of Jaime and his date (unsurprisingly Bart). A Gotham socialite -head to toe in fire engine red silk, a little too much skin on show for his son's face not to match her dress- intersected herself in their quartet, enthusing how cute they were. A few questions down, Jonathan bashfully pointed at Clark and Lois and the woman giggled at how 'quaint' their family was.

It seemed that Jonathan was slowly getting the hang of the whole 'socialising' aspect of high society events. Clark was satisfied enough to search elsewhere in the room for entertainment, swirling his glass of champagne and trying not to crush it with his super strength. The Daily Planet worker/ superhero almost gasped as he spotted Bruce's son.

The boy was LAUGHING.

Well, when Clark said laughing, he meant snickering behind a glass of non-alcoholic wine. The liquid in the glass almost spilled over as the person besides him made another comment, causing an almost-snort to irrupt from him, hastily hushed up with a sip of the drink. The boy's green eyes flashed to the person besides him and he Amati choked on it, pulling the cup away from his mouth and swallowing the drink before he spat it out.

Clark looked to the person besides Damian and saw that she too was overcome with a fit of giggles. More puzzling, it was Raven. The reserved, demoness Titan. Accept she looked a little less like herself, more like the Gothamite seductresses bejewelling the Wayne Manor ballroom. Clark mulled over the two of them, together, laughing, and came to the conclusion that they were just possibly a little more than friends.

Jonathan and Damian, that was friendship. That mutual respect mixed with a little fun. This, Damian and Raven, seemed a little different. The lingering looks and slight irregularities in heart rate when their skin made contact. Oooh yeah, this was a little teenage romance. Clark was unashamed to admit that it melted his soft heart a little more to see Bruce's son stray from his typical stone image and Raven come out of her shell.

Flicking his eyes to the other end of the room, Clark fully guffawed when he saw Bruce's face. Lois glared holes in to his face as others in the vicinity stared as if he was mentally impaired. Clark ducked his head- which didn't make any difference considering he was well over 6'. Choking back his laughter, the kyrptonian glanced again at Bruce who, in spite of his eye-catching dance patterned, was staring straight across the room at Damian and Raven.

Selina whispered to Bruce, "What is it now?!", with her arms hooked around his neck as the twirled gracefully about. The benefits of superhearing, eh?

Bruce muttered, "I think Damian's been drugged."

Clark let out another peak of laughter and Lois jabbed him in the ribs. Of course, being Superman and all, that only served to hurt his wife. Lois cursed herself for falling in love with a near-invincible kyrptonian.

Several metres from the Kents, a waiter shoved Dick Grayson and the man glared at the offender. Jason grinned back at him, taking a glass of champagne off his tray and downing it in a single gulp, retreating back to the kitchens. Dick rubbed his elbow and murmured in to his fiancé's ear, "I'll kill him myself in a minute."

Kori, ever the pacifist, replied, "Do not anger yourself, Dick, this will be over within a few hours.". The man groaned, complaining at a level only she could hear...and Superman. Koriand'r was approached by old friends of the Wayne family enthusing about the upcoming nuptials and the baby and how great it was to have an open inter-species relationship like this to encourage good relations between humans and aliens blah blah blah...

Leaving his jovial fiancé to answer in his place (giving all the lovey-Dover answers suitable for Valentine's Day) Dick looked at his youngest brother adoringly, mentally fawning over how cute he was laughing away with Raven. Stood together by the drinks, almost draped over one another as they leaned close together to whisper scalding remarks in to the other's ears. Seeing as they were stood only a few people away, Dick caught snippets of their conversation.

"Look....dress....what desperation...not true haute coutu-.........Belgian...", Raven chuckled.

Behind his glass, Damian dramatically whispered, "Oh, quel cauchemar!"

This brought about another round of snickers.

It didn't surprise Dick that those two were taking the piss out of the assemblage of social elites primped and perked up, strutting around the room. He made eye contact with Tim -who was working his charm on Waynetech associates and business partners- and jerked his head in their little bro's direction.

Timothy almost froze in fear.

That creepy little twat was...laughing?

Recovering quickly, Tim send Dick a panicked look, but was re-submerged in socialising when queen Barbara of badass geekdom rolled in, with Belladona the little angel decorating her lap. Bruce and Selina were right behind, schmoozing toffs in tuxedos and ladies in lace with the help of the darling child.

Dick considered a new proposal for Wayne enterprises: make Belladonna the face of the organisation, people were already captivated by her big green eyes, dimpled smile and cute hair today, they would sell massively if that face was stuck on a billboard!

One of the typical slow, romantic dance songs was started by the orchestra (stationed in the corner they resided in for every Wayne gala/event). Dick took his fiancé's hand and excused them from the conversation they'd been having with another two couples. He offered with a smile, "Can't miss a chance to whisk the future Mrs on to the dance floor, can I?", he winked.

Meanwhile, Damian and Raven had left the topic of criticising the Gotham elites and had moved on to quietly chastising Jonathan's handling of the situation. He and Donna were only saved from awkward pauses by Jaime and his boyfriend, and eye contact was hard to come by with them. Possibly because Jon was so flustered by how pretty the Amazon looked.

Damian was in a similar flustered position (only handling it a hell of a lot better). That dress clung to the demoness like a second skin and tantalisingly revealed the are skin of her shoulders and often most of her leg- going up to mid-thigh when it dipped out of her skirt. Damian refrained from stating where he knew his eyes wanted to travel, despite having seen far, far more up close and personal. The only thing saving him from loosing his mind (other than the constant, easy flow of conversation) was that he knew Raven was as equally overwhelmed.

She had taken one look at the boy, when they had first gone in to the ballroom, and felt her heart plummet. He just had to pull of the rich-playboy-billionaire's-son look so well, didn't he? Hair styled to perfection, suit fitted and only aiding his advantageous posture, keen eyes caught between jade and emerald, and lips drawn in a signature smirk.

To.

Die.

For.

Many of Gotham's wealthiest had brought along their heirs and children- none seeming below thirteen- and she had seen scores of teenage females glaring daggers in her direction and ogling at her date's sheer handsomeness. Likewise, Damian had, on several occasions, not bothered restraining himself from warding off the wondering eyes of boys and men as they sought the demoness out.

It was natural instinct, an inescapable feeling, that drew their eyes to her. She was a creature of sin (Pride, yes, but also an embodiment of pure vice) and Lust also happened to be something she was particularly adept at enhancing- whether she wished to or not. Men will chase after danger, she remembered the saying of one of her tutors in Trigon's realm, but make sure you have the right ones chasing you- only work for personal advantage.

As Damian made another remark about Jonathan Tomato Kent, Raven hid a smirk. Things might work for her personal advantage tonight. What with the secret arrangements made for after the gala, she silently lamented that they'd be having a very late night. The art project for school would have to be started tomorrow.

But that was all work, now was time for play.

Damian and Raven had noticed the quiet looks coming at them from all angles (reporters looking for the latest scoop or scandal; Jaime, the batbros, Steph, Cass and Babs, drawn between shock and squeals...Cass was doing the least squealing...yeah, there was no squealing from Cassandra; and then there was Mr Wayne... Damian drained his glass and set it on the drinks table behind them, shooting the demoness a coy look.

She paused halfway through a her sentence- criticising the inelegance of Donna's standing position- and raised an eyebrow at him. "What is it?", she almost couldn't get out the words- that smirk and those glinting eyes whisked her breath away.

He leaned a little closer, very, very quietly saying, "Why don't we give them something to stare about?".

Just as those words left his mouth, the orchestra/band begun a different tune. A violinist relinquished her violin and a cellist abandoned his, both of them standing up with immaculate posture. The woman's sultry voice rolled across the ballroom, summoning couples to the dance floor, matched by the man's beautifully smooth tone.

(So, the song I'm really picturing for this is Señorita by Shawn and Camilla- because it's fücking sexy and I cannot even deal- but just...more classical in terms of the instruments and less popish. But yeah, it's 🔥)

Raven spared an eye over the dancing couples, some, spinning with an expert air, others, simply with their arms wrapped around each other and bobbing about in a circle. She understood Damian's meaning instantly. She looked at his father (who'd taken a break from frowning to hold Belladonna and converse with his social equals) and accepted Damian's hand with a shaky heart. They could be exposed. Their relationship bared for all to see, after this. Those they knew in the ballroom already seemed suspicious enough, this would surely tip them over? Some part of Raven, the adventurous, roaring demoness, was living for the scandal and the danger- let them stare, it only encouraged her bold behaviour.

The two of them melded seamlessly on to the allocated dance area, and they fell in to a routine of close contact and swivelling hips and shoulders, fitting the daring theme of the song. The key to dance was to take oneself out of their skin and picture them in an entirely separate role. Like acting. And for those few minutes, Damian and Raven were no more. In their place, a man and a woman epitomising regality and passion spinning a tale worthy of the greatest of Spanish love affairs, to put any telenovela to shame. 

Bearing witness to the spectacle, Jaime whispered in to his boyfriend's ear, "I'm telling you ese, my heart cannot deal with this."

Bart chuckled, "You can say that again."

"My heart cannot deal with it!", Jaime repeated, a little louder, and Bart laughed as he nudged his boyfriend to be quiet. Scrunching his nose as he asked, Bart said, "So, uh, why don't we give it a go?"

Jaime turned to Bart with wide eyes, "What? Dance? Are you serious?"

His date nodded with a smile, "Might as well."

It was settled with that grin of his. Wondering if he might muck it all up and regret life, Jaime let Bart lead him on to the dance floor, praying that this wouldn't get screwed up.

***

At long, long last, after a glittering display of fireworks (pink and red sparks to commemorate the day of romance) that matched the ballroom decorations in theme, the socialites and not-so-close family friends began to trickle out of the door: enthusing what a fabulous event it had been, and the reporters assuring Mr Wayne that the gala would have sensational coverage (apart from Lois, of course). Eventually, even the quintet packed away their instruments, blade the host their farewells -with bank accounts hungrily waiting for their fat checks.

All who remained in the ballroom were Bruce's children and their dates, the Kents, Jaime, Bart, Selina and Donna. It was a shame Diana hadn't been able to come, as an acquaintance of Bruce Wayne, but she was tied up in diplomatic business in Washington (something about helping magical creatures, aliens and humans coexist harmoniously).

Still, as the decor was taken down, Damian couldn't help but look wistfully at the clock. It ticked away the hours until his birthday was over. This night had been greatly enjoyable with Raven by him, and even Jason the Waiter messing things up on purpose had been somewhat fun. But perhaps they truly didn't know- not that it mattered. Raven knew, and they had spent this evening well enough. Even if there was no official celebration, this would still, strangely, be the best of Damian's birthdays; not that there was anything to compete with, he spent the first ten in an assassin's guild.

Having taken off her little pink shoes, Bella was sliding around the polished floor in her tights, messing around with Stephanie and Jonathan. Damian looked around the ballroom and realised that his father, the Kents, Grayson and Kori weren't there. That was odd. Where had they gone? Selina was still there, making sure Jason and Tim didn't break anything, and Stephanie didn't injure Jon or Bella. Jaime and Bart were safely tucked away speaking to Donna, but no one else could be found. Come to think of it, Barbara had disappeared too.

Raven, having retrieved a pinkish glass and taken a sip, stood in front of Damian and said very bluntly, "It is apparently my job to distract you."

Damian raised his eyebrows, "What?"

She said, "They'll just be a minute, you'll see what I mean.", she didn't even glance over her shoulder at the doorway, keeping his eyes (light jade due to his rather pleasant mood) locked on hers. Raven smiled and raised her hands to his collar, making sure it was perfectly straight. Somewhere in a corner, Jaime gave his boyfriend a 'DoyouseewhatImtalkimgabout?!!!' stare.

Leaving her date's collar alone, Raven brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders and said, "There. Distracted!"

On queue, the ballroom doors were opened and the first thing Damian saw was the candle. Just one. Sixteen would have been over the top. It adorned a simple cake: circular in shape, roughly the size of a large dinner plate, chocolate, and with white icing in a cursive handwriting reading 'Happy Birthday".  That phrase was shouted by all in the room- those who'd stayed and who had just entered.

Immediately, Damian was rendered dumbfound and didn't know what to do. He felt heat rising to his neck and sweat forming on his crown as they launched in to a horrendous rendition (led by Dick) of the birthday song. Give him 30 mercenaries locked in a room against him- no problem. A menagerie of mad beasts- sign him up! But a birthday celebration?

Damian wracked his brains for what to do when people sang you happy birthday. He couldn't find anything.

Rubbing his neck, Damian waited for them to finish singing and set the cake down on the table -one free of drinks- before he spoke. "It wasn't necessary for you to-", he tried, before being drowned out by at least seven voices protesting.

"Shut up Little D!"

"Told you he was gonna say something!"

And

"Oh my bejesus just get on with it!"

were among the responses he received.

As they all crowded around the flustered teen, one voice stood out from the rest, quiet and considerate. "Why don't you just blow out the candle, make a wish."

Glad for some guidance, Damian did just that, inhaling the smell of the candle as if inhaling victory- he had managed one small action. At once, he was swept in to a suffocating bear hug.

"We'd never forget your sweet sixteenth Dami!", Dick said, nuzzling his baby brother (who, at this point, was even taller than him).

Damian was wrenched out of Dick's hands by Jason, who scrubbed his head as he held the teen in a choke-hold, "Yeah, little shit." Bruce, Babs, Kori and Selina chided him all at once for inappropriate language and Stephanie covered Belladonna's ears with her hands. 

Damian wrestled his way to freedom and accepted the congratulations of living until the age of sixteen with growing confidence. This was a wholly new experience for him, and like all new experiences, it was a matter of treading carefully. What Damian hadn't expected or counted on was the strangely warm, comfortable feeling brought from Koriand'r and Lois's maternal embraces.

As Lois hugged him like he'd seen her do to Jonathan a thousand times, something pained Damian's heart. This is what it's supposed to be like. The thought couldn't help but fly in to his mind. In a flash, it was gone, as his father faced him.

The others had begun helping themselves to cake -Bella was zooming about with a sugar rush from one bite- and chatting amongst themselves as Bruce placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "Sixteen already?"

Damian, walking on shaky ground, said, "It would appear so."

To his awe, Bruce wrapped his arms around him in the comforting embrace Damian had so rarely ever been held in. That embrace, Damian had been welcomed to after so many catastrophes throughout the years. Coming back to life six years ago, their bond had never been stronger. Deep down in his heart, Damian knew his father would do anything and everything for him, and this friction that kept appearing between them tore him apart.

"Damian,", Bruce spoke so only his son could hear- forget Clark for the moment- ,trying not to choke up, "I know how hard this has all been. You've had to deal with so much the past months- years, even. And I just...even though we argue and don't see eye to eye, I want you to remember forever and always: I love you." He inhaled sharply, "Remember that, even when we seen the furthest apart."

Tears found themselves welling in Damian's eyes and back of his throats felt too tight scratchy for the words to come out, "I-I...", he cleared his throat then all-but-whispered, "..you too, father. Ever and always."

And Damian made a pledge to himself. No lies. No more deceit. No going behind his back. His loyalty to his father had once defined his every action, he wouldn't let that drop out of existence.

A.N:

Well. What can I say really?

That was great, a little emotion at the end, a little sexy in the middle. Quite a nice balance, no?

Right, so, nothing much else really.

Thank you

-Bats :)