I wasn't going to write a one-shot with Damian until we'd passed the Avengers film, but I decided that Tony and Damian's first meeting didn't have to have anything to do with that. This is how I see their first meeting going and it just gave me so many feelings for these two. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

2012

Damian stood before the wall of uniform cases in the Batcave, watching in the reflection of the glass as Father and Drake geared up for patrol. Father was wearing all but the cowl of his Batman uniform while Drake was still in warm-up sweats. Damian sneered as Drake left for the locker room to put on the Robin suit and go through his pre-patrol inventory check. It should be Damian in that suit at his father's side. Drake was just a placeholder and should have stepped aside after Damian showed up.

A flicker of movement from the stairs caught his attention. He almost dismissed it for Pennyworth coming to do his own checks before Batman and Robin left, but the man coming into the cave was not his father's manservant. Damian frowned as the stranger practically waltzed into the cave as if he owned the place. The man traded a few words with Father before both men suddenly turned to look up at Damian.

"Damian, come down here," Father ordered. "There is someone I want you to meet."

Damian's frown turned into a scowl, but he did as he was told. The closer he got to the man standing at his father's side, the more Damian took stock of the stranger's appearance. This man was clearly as well off as his father, dressed in well tailored clothes, though he was dressed down in only slacks, a vest and a dress shirt that had the top three buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He was a head shorter than Father was and stood in a relaxed slouch, but he held himself in a manner that told Damian that the man wasn't as unguarded as he appeared. The man had dark hair that Damian couldn't distinguish as black or dark brown in the dim lighting of the cave, but his facial hair was trimmed into a very distinctive stylized goatee that finally gave Damian a clue as to who the man was; Anthony Stark, the Iron Man.

"Damian, I'd like you to meet Tony Stark, a good friend of mine," Father said, drawing Damian out of his thoughts. "Tony, this is Damian, my son."

"So this is the mini-bat Jay was talking about," Tony mused, smiling down at Damian. "He looks a lot like you did when you were younger."

Damian was quick to squash the small spark of pride that rose up at that statement. Stark was merely saying what most people said about other people's offspring. Damian had been told that he looked like his father at a lot at the events he'd been forced to attend earlier in the week after his existence as blood heir to the Wayne family had been publicly announced. None of them knew Damian, so the comment was more cordial than complementary.

Damian hadn't realized he'd let his thoughts wander while he silently stared the man down for a couple of minutes until the man spoke again.

"He's definitely yours," Stark chuckled suddenly. "If the personality wasn't a dead giveaway, then the Wayne family blue eyes are for sure. Though, as paranoid as you are, I'm certain you ran a DNA test to prove his legitimacy before you made the announcement."

Damian blinked, unsure how to take that comment. People usually dismissed him after "complimenting" him on how like his father he was, yet Stark hadn't broken eye contact with him. The man's smile was amused, but his gaze was assessing. Damian suddenly realized he was underestimating the man merely because he was rich like those other airhead socialites his father had introduced him to. Surely his father wouldn't befriend someone like Stark unless there was more to the man than there appeared. The man was in the Batcave after all and Damian knew how much Father guarded his secret mission as the Batman.

"I did," Father said curtly as he went over to the Batcomputer.

"You said Talia al Ghul is his mother?" Tony asked, still holding Damian's gaze. It was unnerving the boy now that Stark hadn't looked away yet. There was something about the man that was familiar though.

"Yes," Father answered. "He's well trained, but in the way of the League of Assassins."

"A true son of the Batman if there ever were one," Stark chuckled before letting out a sigh and finally looked away from Damian to properly address Father. "What do you want, Brucie? I take it you want more than for me to just meet and greet your son?"

Damian looked over at his father and saw that he was running a program he was unfamiliar with. Father didn't answer Stark's question.

"Tony?"

Damian scowled as Drake returned from the locker room in full Robin regalia, clearly ready for patrol now.

"What are you doing here?" Drake asked, jogging over and gave Stark a hug that the man returned. Damian felt a sharp jab of irritation. Yet another person that favored Drake.

"That's what I'm trying to find out," Stark laughed, ruffling Drake's hair.

Drake stared at Stark for a moment before turning his gaze on Father and then onto Damian. That's when Damian realized what it was about Stark that had felt familiar. It was that assessing gaze Damian had been subjected to. It had the same calculated feeling behind it as Drake's stares. And that wasn't where the similarities ended either. Their posture was the same. Seeing the man and teenager standing side by side was a bit surreal. Despite not having any similar facial features, they had the same body build; compact and unassuming. But Damian was sure that, like Drake, Stark could be competent in combat even without the Iron Man armor (not that he'd ever admit to Drake that he had a reasonable degree of fighting prowess).

Damian would bet money that Drake was somehow related to Stark. Damian's mother had taught him how to read body language and (though he wasn't on the same level as Cain) it didn't take a genius to see that when Stark and Drake were practically mirror images standing side by side. Damian suddenly found himself feeling a small thread of insecurity about his place at his father's side. If Drake was related to Stark, and Stark was as good a friend of his father's as they appeared (considering Stark's presence in the Batcave), then perhaps Drake was somewhat deserving of the position of Robin after all. Damian hated to admit it, but despite Drake's average fighting technique, his stealth skills were on par with some of the best ninja trainers he'd studied under in the League of Assassins.

"While Tim and I are on patrol this evening, I want you to evaluate Damian's abilities," Father said, breaking Damian out of his thoughts.

"Is that why you've pulled up my training program?" Stark asked, joining Father by the computer.

"You have the drones, don't you?" Father asked.

"I know that Jason keeps a few cases stashed around at various safe houses for training purposes for when he's here in Gotham," Stark claimed. "Timmy, do you know if he keeps one here and can you go fetch it if he does?"

"Sure. He leaves one here for me to use. I'll go get it," Drake said before racing off.

"You know, you could run the training assessment yourself," Stark said, smirking at Father. "Why drag me here? Are you hoping Dames and I'll bond or something?"

Damian scowled at the man and his father.

"Partly," Father admitted, "but you have more experience and work better with people in Damian's situation. Furthermore, I believe you'll be more objective than I would be in assessing his abilities."

"I honestly can't tell if you're insulting me by saying that I'm more likely to be neutral and more technical when assessing a child's level of combat skills, or if you're being genuine in saying that I can relate more to troubled youths than you."

Father merely turned to Stark and raised an eyebrow at the other man.

"Clearly I'm being insulted," Stark huffed, turning away and stalked back over towards Damian. "Fine then. Dames and I'll have fun beating up my drones while you and Timmers go out and serve justice or whatever it is you yahoos in spandex do at night."

"You know perfectly well our uniforms aren't made of spandex," Father grunted, but looked amused as he pulled the cowl on over his head.

"True," Stark allowed. "But that's because I help design the fabrics to keep your asses from being beat and blown to high heaven."

"You design Father's uniform?" Damian asked, surprised.

"I don't design it, but I do synthesize the materials like the fabrics and work on upgrades for the Bat crew's armor and gear," Stark said, shrugging. "It's what I do to keep my friend and his associates safe."

"On top of everything else you have to do for Stark Industries," Drake's voice chimed in just as the older boy came in lugging a large metal case.

"Robin," Batman called, cutting off anything else Drake might say.

"Gotta go!" Drake grinned, waving over his shoulder as he raced to join Batman at the Batmobile.

Damian and Stark watched as the vehicle roared to life and practically flew out of the cave towards the city.

"Well!" Stark said suddenly, clapping his hands together before picking up the case Drake had brought over. "Let's get started shall we?"

Damian reluctantly followed the man down a cave tunnel he knew led to the training area. Once they were in the middle of the open sparring arena, Stark set the large case down, kicked it onto it's side and recited a series of numbers and letters. The case then began to hum and the top side flipped back to reveal four helmets not dissimilar to what Damian knew the Iron Man helmet looked like. The helmets began to quiver and then they were suddenly rising out of the case, a thin skeletal body growing out from it and parts of the case until four five-foot tall drones stood before them.

"They aren't my best, I'll admit," Stark said as he checked and inspected the drones, "but they'll do in a pinch. I designed them for Jason incase he needed to let out some pent up aggression. They're more breakable, but I designed them to be that way so that they'd be easier to fix."

That was evident in the small scratches and dents in the drone's plating.

Damian knew that Jason Todd, Father's second Robin, had been killed by the Joker and revived in Grandfather's Lazarus Pit. Madness was a common side effect seen in individuals Ra's al Ghul deigned worthy enough to use the revitalizing properties of the Pit, and Todd had been no exception. Damian had seen Todd once after his revival during his stay with the League and in Mother's care. Talia al Ghul had planned on using Todd for something to do with Father, but those plans had apparently failed because of the very man standing beside Damian. Since then Todd had become Stark's protege as much as he had been Father's. Mother hadn't been pleased, but cut her losses and returned her focus to where it should've been on Damian, her son, and making him worthy of his father's and grandfather's legacies.

"So what are we doing?" Damian asked.

"You're going to fight the drones through a series of levels," Stark explained. "I've synced them with the training program I installed in the Batcomputer for your dad when he learned about what Jason was using the drones for. I'm still working on building a more durable and permanent set for use here, so you guys don't have to keep using Jason's travel cases, but these'll do for what dear old Bats had in mind."

Stark then pulled out his phone and after tapping on it a few times, the drones whirred to life once more and took up fighting stances. Then he walked off the training mats and took a seat on the sideline.

"We'll start on Level 1 and move up from there. Only one will attack at first and as the levels progress, more will join in. Consider these first few levels as warm ups. If you want to stretch do that now and let me know when to start the training session," Stark instructed.

Damian tisked, but knew better than to argue. He stretched as advised, examining the drones as he did so, looking for weak spots and mentally logging their locations away for future use. When he was ready, he signaled Stark and the first drone sprang into action so fast, Damian could admit, if only to himself, that it'd taken him a little off guard.

Even though Stark had said that the first few levels were supposed to be easy and more like warm ups than an actual challenge, the drones were fast and swift enough to push Damian a bit. His hands itched to hold a katana, but he felt he was holding his own fairly well. It made him wonder how Todd faired. How would Grayson do? And Drake? Hell, even Father. Damian knew he'd have a few good bruises to show for his efforts by the time Stark called an end to the assessment. Damian didn't want to admit it, but the drones had proven to be a real challenge. They were small, light and flexible enough in a way most normal humans weren't and seemed to anticipate a lot of his maneuvers. Hell, Damian could swear that they had executed a few of Grayson's attacks.

"You did really well," Stark commented as he handed Damian a towel before checking and beginning repairs on the few joints on the drones that Damian had managed to cripple. He'd failed to completely disable a drone, but those things were more durable than Stark had led him to believe. "Scary well for someone your age."

"I'll take that as a complement," Damian huffed, watching the man as he tinkered.

"As you should," Stark said, sending a brief smile Damian's way. "I don't know if you noticed, but I customized the drone's attacks to your skill level as it became more apparent to me and the program. You have superb hand to hand skills. Your hit strength is impressive and your stamina is even more so."

Damian felt a surge of pride. Finally. Someone who recognized how qualified he was.

"Almost too good," Stark then added. "I don't mean to be rude or insensitive, Damian, but I do have some questions about your biology."

"What sort of questions?" Damian asked.

"Your results are near superhuman on some levels," Stark explained. "I have known your father since we were Tim's age. You're only ten years old, correct?"

Damian nodded.

"I happen to know for a fact that ten years ago Dick Grayson had only just started his hero career as Robin. There would have been few to no chances of Bruce meeting with your mother. I can't say I know about everything that goes on in your father's life, but I can't find anything in his records on the Batcomputer pertaining to the time you'd have been conceived that he had any interactions with the League of Assassins. I'm aware of his old on and off relationship with your mother, but you weren't naturally conceived were you? Damian, you're Bruce's clone with a few augmentations in your genetic code am I right?"

Damian stiffened.

"I'm not judging," Stark said quickly, as if to cut off any comment Damian might have said. "And I promise I won't tell Bruce about this conversation. Your DNA just matches Bruce's a little more than Talia's and I'm curious. I'm a scientist. It's part of my nature."

Damian was surprised to see Stark flick his phone and a hologram appeared showing three DNA samples. The middle one had to be his, because there were points that matched both samples above and below it. There were more matching points to the sample above than there were the the one below.

"Now I'm no biologist," Stark continued, "but this imbalance in matching alleles isn't natural, which is why I suspected augmentations had been made to your genetic code."

Damian pursed his lips. He wasn't sure if his father knew, but Damian knew that he wasn't a natural birth. His mother had told him he'd been made to be the perfect heir. Not born. Made. He knew about her laboratory and that she had spare organs and things stocked for him. She'd used them before to help him recover after he'd received serious injuries during his more… intense training sessions.

"So what if I'm not? I'm my father's blood son," he said, internally cringing at the defensive note in his tone that had slipped through.

"I'm not denying that," Stark said gently, actually leaving his drones to kneel and put himself slightly below Damian's level so that he could look up into his eyes. It was slightly unnerving to have someone look up at him. No one had ever done that before. He'd always had to look up at others. "Damian, I'm not asking to be cruel. I'm merely curious."

"It's true," Damian found himself admitting against his better judgement. "Mother… told me that one day I'd take my rightful place at Father's side. I'm destined to succeed him. I was made…"

Damian cut himself off, but not in time.

"Made, huh?" Stark said softly with a sad, but strangely understanding smile. "Made to be the perfect heir. Molded to succeed your father and take over his enterprises."

Damian's eyes widened. "And what would you know about that?"

Stark snorted, falling back onto his rear and sitting cross legged on the mats. "What do you know about me, Damian?"

"You're Anthony Stark-"

"Tony, please."

"...Tony Stark, son of Howard and Maria Stark, and former CEO of Stark Industries, but I hear you still run the Research & Development department. You're a child genius that graduated high school at 14 and college with several engineering business majors by 17. You took over your family's company after you turned 18 and turned it over to Miss Virginia Potts two years ago. When you're not doing work for your company, you moonlight as the hero Iron Man, which you took up after a three month long imprisonment in Afghanistan."

"That's the highlights, I guess," Stark sighed. "But, to answer your previous question about how I knew those things about you… suffice to say that I had a similar childhood. Now I may not have been raised in the same manner as you, but I was groomed from the moment I was born to take over my father's company. I know what it's like trying to live up to a parent's expectations. How it hurts when you don't meet those expectations. How much of an obsession it becomes to strive for that unobtainable goal of perfection to get the approval you so desperately want, but are more often than not left frustrated and depressed when you fail."

Damian was quiet, but he felt something inside him ease a bit. That was one thing he hadn't found since he'd come to stay with his father. Understanding. He knew that it was hard for his father to accept him. His mother had sprung Damian's existence on him quite suddenly, after all, so he'd expected some suspicion and that it'd take a while for Father to adjust to his presence and accept him. But he'd been in Gotham for a little over a month now, and he was still an outsider in his father's house. Even though he was officially part of the family now, no one really talked to him unless it was to scold him for misbehavior or to inform him on how something was done.

Stark, however, was the one engaging Damian in conversation. He was trying to understand who Damian was. It was… very different from what he was used to. In the League with his mother, he'd always been told what he should be and what he needed to do to become that. There were expectations and Damian had done his best to live up to them and had succeeded for the most part.

In his father's house, however, everything he was and did was wrong. He was too violent according to Drake. Grayson and Todd believed him to be too young and volatile. And Father had expectations so different from Mother's that Damian was struggling to alter his beliefs and views on life to figure out his new position at his father's side. His mother had raised him to become the next Demon Head. A man worthy of taking over the League and would continue his father's legacy. Damian had been raised with the belief that he would become the bridge between his mother's and father's worlds and reconcile their two separate but similar life missions. But how could he when their ideals were so different? Mother's world was one where the weak were eliminated and replaced by the strong, but in his father's world, the weak were protected and it was the duty of the strong to help those who could not help themselves. They were as different as night and day and Damian was struggling to adjust one of their beliefs to conform to the other's. He hated to admit it, but Drake was right. He was violent. He was trained to cut down offenders, not subdue and incarcerate them.

"Damian."

Damian jerked back, surprised to find Stark still in front of him, a concerned expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" the man asked.

"You are right," Damian muttered, turning his face away from those eyes that were so different in color, and yet so similar in intensity to Drake's. "I was born and raised to be my father's successor by Mother, and was intended to become the future head of my grandfather's League, but… though my skills are enough for the League, they are incompatible with Father's mission. ...I cannot be at his side as Robin because I am too violent. My instincts are to maim and kill assailants and though I want nothing more than to be by his side…"

Damian choked off, angry that he could feel tears sliding down his face, but Stark didn't scold him for the display of weakness. The man didn't say a word, actually, and acted instead. His moves were well telegraphed and Damian had ample time to move away if he so wished, but he allowed himself to be engulfed in the man's arms. He felt the heavy, but surprisingly comforting weight of Stark's hand cup the back of his head and neck.

"You will be," the man said softly. "You're young. Give it time. You are an amazing child, Damian. I have no doubt that one day you'll be Robin and take your place at Batman's side. Take this time to figure things out. Figure out what you need to be. What you want to be. Forget what your parents expect from you. Become what you want you to be. And if that's to become Robin, figure out what that entails. Research what made Dick, Jason, Steph and Tim such effective Robins, so that you can become even better than they were. There's no doubt in my mind that you will be because you're Bruce's son and you're already so much like him. I know things are hard and frustrating right now, but give it time. And if you need help, or even just someone to lend an ear… you can come to me. I'll listen. I've been more than one Robin's soundboard before, so I know how frustrating working and living with these people can be."

Damian was mortified by the whimper that slipped past his control, but he allowed himself to take comfort in the embrace and found himself clutching his hands in the man's shirt.

Neither said anything after that, and Damian wasn't sure how long they remained that way, but he did eventually find the strength to pull away from the man. He was surprised to receive a hair ruffle and even a smile that looked fond before Stark returned to fixing his drones and putting them back in their case. He wouldn't realize it until he was in bed that night, but as he drifted off to sleep Damian found that he felt at peace for the first time since coming to live with his father.

Tony had watched Alfred escort Damian up to bed, and was now waiting for Bruce and Tim to return from patrol. It was a weeknight which meant that they'd be back before midnight so that Tim could get home and have a few somewhat reasonable hours of sleep before he had to be up again in time for school.

Right at 11:25, the Batmobile pulled into the cave and Tim jumped out in a hurry to shower and change. Tony almost expected Batman to head out again and complete another few hours of patrol, but Bruce pushed back the cowl and joined Tony instead.

"How did he do?"

"I'm assuming you mean Damian," Tony huffed, ignoring the glare aimed his way. "Skillswise, your son is frighteningly competent in combat. He's already a better hand to hand fighter than all four of your previous Robins when they started. He doesn't have the grace Dickiebird had, nor the calculated precision Timmy has, but his moves are a bit more sophisticated and flow better than Jason's brawler style, so his training with the League of Assassins shows. I suppose you could say that he's brutally efficient. He made it up to Level 7 before I ended the assessment. The readings are on the computer."

"He made it to Level 7?" Bruce repeated, looking surprised.

"Your kid was raised by ninjas, Bruce," Tony chuckled. "Of course he's going to have above average results. He's also got amazing stamina. He'll be a true credit to your mission one day."

"He's too violent," Bruce sighed.

"I repeat, he was raised by ninja assassins, Brucie," Tony huffed. "You've trained with the League. You know their methods. What else were you expecting from a child raised in that kind of environment? He's having to readjust and relearn what is expected from him. You and Talia have very different methodologies and it's got the poor boy confused and frustrated because he was raised to such different standards by his mother and finds that they are now incompatible with the life he wants to live with you. You need to give him time to adjust. Educate him, Bruce. Don't just foist him off on me, Alfie and good ol' Dick when he's in town. For all his skill and educated manner of speech, Damian is just a ten year old boy. A boy who wants nothing more than to please you but doesn't know how."

"He told you this?" Bruce asked softly.

"He didn't need to," Tony said gruffly. "I know what it's like to be groomed from birth to be something by a parent, and yet still found lacking in what they believe matters. Don't be that parent, Bruce. Don't be like Howard. Or Talia for that matter. Show your son that you give a damn about him and help him adjust to not only a new way of life, but a new culture, because he's obviously struggling to understand social expectations in regards to his violence. Get Dick and Tim and Alfie to help you. I'm sure they'll lend a hand. Don't just push him away because you feel you're the wrong person to teach him something and you feel like you're not doing it right. That's what got you into trouble with Dick and Jason."

Bruce was silent for a moment, just staring at him before a fond look stole over his face.

"What?" Tony snapped.

"You know, for all my experience in raising and mentoring several children, you still come off as the better parent figure," Bruce said.

"Oh? How do you figure that?" Tony scowled.

"Because you understand them. You relate to them. It's something I've always admired about you because I've always struggled with that aspect in helping my children and proteges. Jason, Tim and the others trust you because of that."

Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat but didn't protest. Bruce had told him things of a similar nature before.

"It's why I want to make you Damian's Godfather," Bruce suddenly added, "and future guardian in the event that something happens to me."

"What?" Tony gaped, staring.

"You've done wonders with Jason," Bruce said, shrugging. "I'm hoping you can do the same for Damian. I know I can trust you to take care of him."

"I'm… honored," Tony said, struggling with his shock and the sudden surge of humility he felt upon hearing that Bruce trusted Tony with Damian as much as Tony trusted him with Tim.

Bruce smiled briefly before tugging the cowl back on. "I'll get in touch and we can discuss arrangements later. I need to resume patrol now."

"Sure. Go kick some ass," Tony said, waving the man off.

Batman nodded before heading back to his Batmobile and raced off into the night once more. That was when Tim came out of the locker room showered and in clean clothes. Tony listened to his son babble about how patrol went for a few minutes, but before he headed up to the main manor, Tony told Tim he had a request.

"What is it, Dad?" Tim asked.

"It's about Damian," Tony said, smiling in amusement as the teen scowled. He'd heard all about Tim's first meeting with Damian and the constant attempts on his life.

"What about the brat?" Tim growled.

"He's just a little boy, Timmy," Tony scolded lightly. "One raised by assassins and that's got to mess with the kid's head. This new life change is a little jarring for him and there's various things he needs to learn to help him adjust to our culture and lifestyle. I know you don't like him, but at least try to remember that and do what you can to help him. Bruce asked me to be his Godfather, you know."

"No, I didn't," Tim huffed, eyebrow ticking in irritation.

"I said yes," Tony said softly. "Talia and Ra's are his Howard, Timmy. She and the League of Assassins were all he knew. They placed great expectations on his young shoulders and molded him into what they wanted him to be from the day he was born and now he's in a new environment with a father he barely knows, a culture he barely understands, and is finding himself falling short at every new standard he meets."

Tim shifted uneasily before to him.

"You don't have to like him or get along with him, but I want you to at least try to empathise with Damian and where he is coming from. That's all I want you to do, Timmy."

"I suppose I can do that," Tim grumbled.

"Thanks," Tony said softly, ruffling his kid's hair. "Now get upstairs. Alfie's probably got your night snack all ready for you."

"Right," Tim sighed. "Good night, Dad."

"Good night, Timmy."

And that's how Damian and Tony met. God, I just want to wrap these two in my arms and give them a big hug. I looked up Damian's wiki page and decided that he was going to be a clone of Bruce, rather than deal with any part of the debate whether Talia raped Bruce that surrounds some comic storylines. I hope you guys don't mind.

Also, I have an update for you guys! I have just posted the first chapters for 2 sequels for this series. One, is the promised chapter for the 1st storyline option that you guys voted on several chapters ago that takes place during the first Avengers film. That fic is called "Bats, Meet the Avengers."

The second fic, is a little plot bunny that's about Tony having to deal with a de-aged toddler Timmy. That one is called "Baby Tim (Eventually) Meets the Avengers." Enjoy these sequels! :)