Dick stepped out onto the top floor shortly before noon, still fretting. I hope she's here, he thought. I really need to explain things to her. The last thing I want is for her to think she's being watched…

The only person at the desk, though, was Dora. "Mr. Grayson," she gave a rare genuine smile as she greeted him.

He shook his head at her teasing. "Please, Dora, you've known me since I was nine. The only person in this building better qualified to call me by my given name is on the other side of those doors," he gestured towards the CEO's office.

"There is such a thing as decorum, you know."

"You sound like Alfred."

"That man keeps you and Mr. Wayne in line, so I'll take that as a compliment."

"I meant it as one. You don't do too bad at wrangling us, yourself." He bounced on his toes a couple of times. "Listen, is Emily around?"

"I sent her on lunch a little early. She's been a little shaky ever since she came back from delivering a file to a certain somebody," she glanced at him knowingly. "You've got to stop making every woman you meet fall in love, honey. It's terribly inconvenient for those of us trying to get them to do something other than daydream about you."

Yeah, I'm thinking her daydream was more of a nightmare, he winced slightly. "All I do is try to be nice to them," he shrugged. Except when I frighten them half to death out of a selfish desire to seem like a normal person. Is five minutes of being incognito really too much to ask for?

"…Dick?" Bruce stepped out of his office. "I thought I heard you out here."

"Hey. Just talking to Dora while I still have the chance." He gave her a sad look. "I like Emily, but I still think you should stay."

"Not a chance," she shook her head. "All I want from my remaining years is a warm, sandy beach, and unless Mr. Wayne decides to move the company headquarters to Florida, I can't work here and have that, too."

"…What do you think, Bruce?" Dick grinned. "Want to move to Florida? Probably not, you like your doom and gloom," he sighed. "Besides, tan isn't really your color."

"I really think Gotham would fall apart if Wayne Enterprises were to leave," Dora opined.

"Yeah," the younger man admitted. In more ways than one. "You're probably right. Guess we're stuck here."

"Guess so," Bruce's eyebrow quirked. "Come in here, we need to talk."

"Uh oh," he commented to the secretary. "I'm in trouble."

"When have you ever been in trouble?" she waved him off, reaching for the phone as it trilled sharply. "Mr. Wayne's office…no, I'm sorry, sir, he's in a lunch meeting at the moment…I'll be happy to take a message, of course…"

"…Okay," the millionaire began a moment later as he dropped into his desk chair. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he answered as he sat across from him.

"Dick, don't waste time. We both know something's bothering you. Tell me what it is before the food gets here so we can enjoy our lunch."

"…How do you always know? I can lie to anybody, except you. And Alfred," he tacked on. "I've never mastered that one, either."

"No one has," Bruce said shortly. "As for the other, you've never been capable of hiding it from me when you're feeling guilty about something."

Sighing again, he leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, not speaking.

"…It's not a problem with Barbara, is it?"

"No," he negated immediately. "That's…that's all fine. I just…did you know Emily worked for Consolidated Steel before she came here?"

"Yes. Bobby McAvoy knew I was looking for a replacement for Dora and asked me to give his father's secretary a shot. He was very complimentary. I didn't tell her that, of course; the last thing she needs on top of being trained by the dragon out front is to associate the things that happened at her last job with this one."

"Gee, that makes me feel so much better," he muttered sarcastically.

"…Huh?"

"I didn't know she'd been involved with the investigation into McAvoy, Bruce." He straightened, then leaned forward and buried his face in his hands, rubbing his temples as he explained what had happened a couple hours before. "It was just…nice, you know, to have someone treat me like a regular guy instead of…well…the boss' kid, millionaire heir apparent, et cetera. But I think I might have scared the daylights out of her. I thought it might be better to let her calm down before I tried to explain. That's why I came up a little before noon; I figured I'd talk to her before she went to lunch. Dora sent her early, though, because she seemed out of it. Now I just hope she actually comes back."

"Hmm. I suppose I can understand your logic in waiting." He tapped his fingers on the desk a few times. "But like you said, Dick, you didn't know. And frankly, I can't fault you for wanting to be unknown with a new acquaintance, even for just a few minutes. I'm a little surprised that she didn't recognize you, though; you've been in the paper a lot lately. Society weddings tend to do that," he smiled softly.

"Yeah…it's annoying as hell."

"If you think this is bad, wait until you have a kid."

"…I seem to remember you nearly punching a photographer at one point, what, like two months after I came to the Manor?"

"I didn't think it was appropriate for him to lurk outside the gates to your school," Bruce said darkly. "He's lucky I didn't punch him. It was one thing for them to chase me, but to go after a kid the way they did you…that was wrong."

"Plenty of others wanting a lot worse things than pictures came after me," he reminded him, dropping his voice.

"And you'll recall that I did punch them. Multiple times. Hard."

"Yes, yes you did. And I appreciated it."

"Any time." They were silent for a moment. "Don't worry about Emily, Dick. You've always had a knack for making shadows disappear. She's upset now, but once you've explained to her she might very well feel better about the entire incident, not just with you, but with McAvoy and McCarthy's trolls, too."

"…I hope so."

They moved on to other topics, and ten minutes passed before there was a knock at the door. "Come in, Dora," Bruce called.

"God, I hope that's the food," Dick turned expectantly. "…Hi, Emily."

"Oh," she paused, eyes widening and her hand tightened on the Chinese delivery. "I'm sorry, I…Dora told me to bring this in, and I…ah…"

"I'll take it," the younger man said quickly, rising and moving to do so. "Listen, Bruce, um…could we have a minute?"

"You're kicking me out of my own office?" Presumptuous little brat, he chuckled silently. But then, the method's always worked on me, so why change it?

"Yeah. Sorry. We'll be quick. Emily…?" he stepped back, leaving her room to enter.

Steeling herself, she minced in, her light lunch turning in her stomach. Relax. Just relax, Em. It's not like he's going to murder you. Not in the executive suite, at least. Mr. Wayne moved past her, shutting the door behind himself. "Mr. Grayson, I-"

"Dick," he interrupted her.

"…I'm sorry?"

"It's just Dick," he insisted, setting the paper bag containing his and Bruce's meal on the desk. "Listen, Emily, I owe you an apology."

"…What? I don't understand…please…" She was on the verge of tears again. I just want to go home. Please, just fire me and let me go home.

"Hey, whoa, calm down," he tried to soothe her, seeing her distress. "Look, I didn't know you'd worked for McAvoy. And that's okay," he added quickly. "It really is. I wasn't kidding when I said I went to school with Bobby; he was one of the few people I actually got along with in school. I'm glad you worked for them. It's just…I'm not used to people not recognizing me, especially in this building. So meeting someone who did…it was refreshing. It was nice to have a conversation with someone new who wasn't immediately kowtowing. That's why I didn't tell you who I am right from the beginning. I wasn't trying to mislead you, or spy on you, or anything like that. Bruce and I are both so far from those goons you had to deal with that it's kind of a miracle we haven't been investigated. So…no one's out to hurt you here, okay? I made a stupid mistake, and I apologize. I'm sorry if I scared you; my intention was to make you feel welcome, not hunted."

She watched him warily as he spoke, and slowly found herself believing him. There's something so disarming about his nature, she thought. It's impossible not to trust him, almost. "I…I'm still a little nervous, Mr. Grayson," she confessed when he had finished and was waiting for her reply with a hopeful expression. "…Dick," she amended. "It's been a rough few months."

"Sure," he agreed, that kind look that had struck her so strongly when she'd first mentioned Consolidated Steel back in his eye. "But like you said downstairs, you're here now. And I know our misunderstanding earlier didn't make you feel very safe here, but trust me when I say that you are. Dora and Bruce can both be a little, ah, distant, I guess would be the word, but if they didn't think you were worth their time, you wouldn't have been here long enough to even get a lunch break. And you sure wouldn't have been sent down to deliver a file to me." His shoulders slumped as a tear ran down her cheek. What did I say now? "What's wrong?"

"I…I thought you were going to fire me. When you asked me to come in. And now…you're just so nice, and…and I thought…"

"What? No way." He leaned backwards over the desk and snagged a tissue from the other side. "The last girl?" he confided with a conspiratorial look as he handed it to her. "She lasted a half hour. Dora's got a killer sense for what will work and what won't around here. She goes on and on about only having a week left, but if she didn't think you were up to snuff, she'd have already fired you and started looking for another candidate, no matter what it meant for her plane reservation."

Dabbing at her eyes and hoping that she hadn't completely ruined her makeup, Emily felt a surge of relief. "…Thank you," she shook her head. "After Consolidated…no one wants to touch people who have been questioned by the Committee, and this job…I need it, I really do, and I don't even know why I'm telling you all of this…"

"It's okay. Really. Go on, it's okay."

She calmed slowly, taking deep breaths. "I'm so sorry I broke down like that," she apologized.

"It's my fault, really," he lamented.

"No, I…oh, I don't know. I feel like I don't even need to explain the reasons to you, that you just understand. Is that strange?"

"No. It's flattering." He smiled. "Can you forgive me for being so stupid? You're going to be Bruce's new secretary, so we'll be seeing a lot of each other. Besides that, you're a nice person, and I'm looking forward to getting to know you better. So…friends?"

"…Is that appropriate? Friends?" I work for you, after all, and you're engaged, and…

"I don't believe in letting the papers tell me who I should and shouldn't be friends with. There are good people – and bad ones – at every level of society, I've found. It makes me sad to think about all of the great experiences and stories I'd have missed out on if I restrained myself to only liking the people everyone else thought I should. But I understand your hesitation," he went on. "So let me amend that. Can we start over?"

"…Of course," she nodded.

Grinning now, he stuck out his hand. "Hi, I'm Dick Grayson, head of Research and Development. You must be Emily Darnell, the new executive secretary. Pleasure to meet you."

She shook, enjoying the sound of the title behind her name. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Grayson."

"Please, call me Dick. Really, I insist."

"…Certainly. And I'm…Emily."

"The new executive secretary," he added, giving her a smirk as he released her hand. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No," she agreed, both amused and quieted by the little game they'd just played. "It was very nice. I…I feel much better now, Dick. About everything, really." She blushed. "I definitely understand why they call you the Charm Department."

"Like I said, Bruce's nickname." He leaned against the desk as he spoke, opening the aromatic bag beside him and digging out an eggroll. "He said at a dinner once that they should send me to Moscow and get this whole mess with the Soviets settled once and for all. It would have been a heck of a compliment if the Secretary of State hadn't been sitting there looking like he thought it wasn't a half-bad idea."

She smacked a hand over her mouth as a small snort of laughter escaped her. Looking up in embarrassment – that's it, Em, that's proper office behavior – she found him grinning at her as he chewed. …Maybe this place isn't so bad, after all. I just hope he visits Mr. Wayne's office a lot. Even knowing her still-existent crush was pointless, she liked him. Who wouldn't, though? she wondered as she reached for the door. "…I should leave you to your lunch. I'm sure Dora has a million things for me to do."

"Send the boss-man back in, would you? Tell him his Szechuan is in danger, that always gets him moving."

"I will," she smiled.

That went way better than I thought it might, he sighed in relief when she'd gone. Just as he swallowed the last of his eggroll, Bruce entered.

"…I see the Charm Department of Wayne Enterprises is still turning out quality work," he commented. "And you better not have touched my entrée."

"I didn't," he assured him. "But I am going to steal a bite."

"Typical." They unpacked the bag and ate without speaking for several minutes.

"So…she seems better now?"

"Much. I don't know what you said, but as usual, it got the job done."

"Well, I learned from the best. Your skills just lean more towards knowing the perfect threat rather than the perfect compliment."

"Tactics."

"Yup." His chopsticks snuck across the desk and back. "You are keeping her, right?"

"Dick, if I wasn't planning on keeping her, I would never have sent her down to you."

"That's what I told her, but…just making sure, I guess."

"You're the final test, you know that. I won't hire a secretary you can't get along with. After all," he mused. "She'll be your secretary someday, and probably unexpectedly. She needs to suit us both in order to assure the smoothest possible transition in that case."

"Quit talking like that," he jabbed his utensils at him, face set. I don't like thinking about it, you know that.

"We both know it's a distinct likelihood."

"Sure. We also know that it could happen the other way around, and that she might never become my secretary."

Bruce flinched. Don't. Please. "…Not while we're eating," he said.

"Agreed." Nothing more was said until they had both finished.

"…Dick?"

"Yeah?"

You're amazing. I'm so proud of you. I love you. "…Thank you."

"I didn't do anything," he frowned.

"No, I meant…"

"Oh. Yeah. Well." Their eyes met. You're never going to be able to really say it, are you? I know you try, Bruce. You tried just now. I just wish I knew a way to charm down that last wall… "Thanks to you, too. Dad." He held the other man's shocked but grateful gaze for a second, then gave him his special smile, rose, and headed for the door. At least there was something I didn't lie to Emily about earlier, he reflected as he passed through the lobby and tipped a wink to the two women behind the desk. I am one lucky son of a bee. A grin slipped across his lips as he considered that. Well…one lucky son of a bat, at least.