Author's Note: I do apologize for the long delay. I appreciate the time everyone has taken to read and reread and leave your comments. It is great hearing your feedback!

All named and recognizable characters used in this non-commercial work are the property of DC Comics.

The next morning at breakfast, Daddy seems to be uninterested in Diana's trip. I stick by him during the meal, feeling a growing uneasiness about Diana's secrecy and the way she spoke last night. She followed me to my room to talk after I finished cleaning my cats' bowls, but even then, she was persistently tight-lipped about her visit.

Every time I tried to bring it up—not that I tried more than twice—she steered me back to talk about my day at school instead. All she wants to say, all she seems willing to say, is that he is doing fine. It feels like she is both happy and—I don't know—embarrassed about the visit and I can't figure out why.

Dad doesn't talk about it either, but it's clear that he doesn't want to deal with any of it and he's really been saying as much from before this all started. I can tell now that he's trying to distance himself from the whole thing because of Superman's involvement, as the one time the visit comes up with all three of us together, mention of him is when Dad turns away, focusing on his morning newspaper.

After that, things settle back down, becoming…well, not normal again, but predictable. Over the next couple weeks, though, Diana goes for more visits, though not just to Metropolis. Disappointingly, she always ends up going on a school day, so I miss out on getting to see everyone too. Her second trip is to visit Uncle Wally and to meet his family. Uncle J'onn is next, followed by a trip to Detroit to see Aunt Shay and Uncle John and Rex. After that, her next visit is to Metropolis again. That visit is the first to come on a Saturday and, together with both of my big brothers spending the day in Gotham with Barbara and a few of their friends, it leaves me and Dad home with Alfred.

I spend a lot of the morning in my room drawing. For a good portion of it, I'm looking up toward the ceiling. It comes with the territory, I suppose, since I'm drawing my view of the network and my view of Tyger and Whiskers from below.

As we're both finishing up lunch in the early afternoon, Dad asks, "Want to do something together this afternoon, Caitlyn?"

"Sure. What do you have in mind?"

"Would you like to go ice skating?"

The mere mention of ice skating gets me excited to go. My mind fills with memories of my last trip to an ice skating rink, one that Dick and Tim had taken me to. The memories don't stop with that one event, going all the way back to when Daddy first taught me how years beforehand.

"I'd love to go!" I respond quickly. I don't even give myself time to pull myself from my own memories before answering.

"Hmm. You know, maybe we should have tried getting you interested in ice hockey."

My expression sours immediately at the thought. "Daddy, no!" I chastise. The contemplative look on his face falters and he begins to laugh. I join in when it sinks in that he was only joking.

Luckily, he was serious about going skating. Almost an hour later, we're sitting together on a bench by the ice. I'm trying to wait patiently, but it's hard to sit still. Dad already tied up my skates, so now I have to wait for him to tie his own.

I turn away, looking out over the rink. We had to drive all the way out of Gotham City to get here. It's a small outdoor skating rink, just some dirt piled up around the edges of the rink to keep the water under control before it froze. The bench Daddy and I are sharing is one of just a couple around the rink's long edges. There's nothing more than refrozen snow and a narrow rubber mat to protect our skates from the frozen dirt below as we make our way onto the ice.

It's perfect.

Finally, Dad finishes and the moment he does, I'm on my feet and ready to get on the ice. He finishes putting his gloves back on while rising to head down with me. I eagerly lead the way after he extends a hand to me to wrap his gloved fingers around my mitten.

My first couple steps onto the ice are a little unsteady, so I appreciate having Dad there to help keep me standing. Once we're both on the ice, however, I relax my grip, open my hand, and he lets go shortly after. Immediately, I turn my left skate and push, propelling myself forward as I race for the far end of the rink, dodging around one of the five other people on the ice on the way.

I hear Dad's voice more than a few feet behind, excusing us both as he passes around the same big kid. Meanwhile, I reach the end of the rink and begin my turn to head back the other way. After coming around the corner, I look to my left and see Dad coming toward me, his hands clasped behind his back and a relaxed smile on his face.

With a sharp couple of turns, he's right beside me. He keeps pace with me down to almost the end of the ice, then disappears behind me as we begin our turn, skating just outside the turn of three boys about Rex's age. I keep my eyes on them when I pass them, with one's mother calling at nearly the same time, "Watch out!" I can't say whether she's calling out to me or to her son and his friends.

Either way, I pay them no mind after getting past. I'm too busy pulling out of the next turn. As I hold my skates straight and together, I begin to relax, waiting for Dad to come back up to skate beside me. Instead, I feel hands wrap around my waist.

"Ready?" I hear him ask, but before I can even think to respond, I'm in the air. My legs come up on their own, legs and hips bending to raise my feet even higher off the ice.

My first conscious act is to spread my arms out. I feel sort of like I'm a plane, soaring through the air. I begin to giggle at the idea, growing louder as I stretch my arms further as my giggles turn to laughter at the joke not said aloud.

I feel myself being lowered again and reflex quickly kicks back in. I straighten my legs, feeling the contact with the ice through my skates not long after. The second they're down, they begin drifting apart, so I tuck my arms as I turn my toes in to get my feet closer and back under control.

Once I'm skating on my own, I turn back to face Dad. He extends a hand to me and I take it without hesitation. He leads me back out toward the edge of the rink and starts us looping leisurely around the ice. Every so often, I lift my eyes to look at him. A few times, he turns from the ice to return my smile with one of his own.

The smile on his face is gentle and warm. As happy as I am to see it, thought of it stops my train of thought for a few moments. Protective, caring, loving, friendly, happy—this is the father I've always known. Yet, I know how much different he is, how different he can be as…in the mask.

Next, my thoughts go out to my aunts and uncles, to their own crime-fighting identities. I think back to the missed visits and play dates, unable to keep myself from wondering how many times I missed seeing someone because of an emergency or an injury. Even if Rex and Jai and Iris knew about their parents' powers, I can't help wondering how much they understood—how much…more they might have understood than me.

I want to think that Rex just thought his father always wore a ring and his mother had secret wings he couldn't talk about. I'd like to believe that Jai and Iris didn't know about their father's speed until they unintentionally ran faster than they thought possible. I hope I didn't notice because Dad was really good at hiding his being Batman. I hope it wasn't because I just didn't want to see.

"Caitlyn?" Dad asks. Pulled back to the present, I realize we've come to a stop in the corner of the rink. I look back, over my left shoulder and see a girl a few years older than me with the bigger kid I'd skated past when I first got out on the ice. They pass by us without a second glance, paying attention to one another as they race around the corner. "Something on your mind?"

I turn back, not entirely sure what, if anything, to say in response. Before Dad can say anything more, though, I twist my feet at the ankle to skate gently into him. After wrapping my arms around him, I shake my head and then press my cheek to his jacket.

Dad puts one hand on my head and the other on my right shoulder. His gloved thumb rubs my shoulder for a moment before moving his hand back to return my hug. This is the father I know and love.

Even now, it still sort of feels like Batman is a separate person. My father is famous. Batman is infamous—a Gotham tourist attraction, even. I've seen the stores—we never go in them—but I've seen the shops filled with clothing and costumes, toys, and wild Batman-themed items. We also heard about Batman in the news and I even learned about him in school.

I guess I didn't pay much attention to Batman or the Justice League past what I needed to for homework and tests. Alien invasions, monsters, and madmen—it all felt so distant from me, since it was mostly from before I was born. Maybe if I'd paid more attention, I'd have figured out who my aunts and uncles were, but I've never felt like I needed a superhero. After all, I've always had Daddy.

My thoughts go back to Joker. At the same time, Dad puts his hand atop my head and leans me back a little while stepping away to kneel. 'When I did need a superhero…it was my father who saved me…' I think to myself as he straightens my hat with a smile on his face. I smile in response. "Thank you," I say, trying to focus on the present, but it doesn't come across nearly as joyful as I intended.

He doesn't say anything in response, though he doesn't need to. My hands, warm from the mittens, grow a little warmer as he wraps his own around them. A realization hits me, followed by a wave of sadness and I quietly ask, "No one else gets to thank you like this, do they?" After a quick pause, I explain myself barely above a whisper, "I mean…they can't ever know it's you."

"You're right, Caitlyn, but it's not about being thanked. It's about doing what's right."

What Dad explained makes sense, but no matter how much I can understand, I still don't want any part in their caped lives. I like training, but I…can't be like that. It means a lot to me that no one expects me to fight crime with them. I just want things to be like they were…normal…and I don't ever want my own normal to be fighting crime.

It didn't take too long for Dad to get my mind back to the ice. A game of ice tag filled most of the rest of our skating time. The two of us were the only ones playing, though. The last time I went skating with Tim and Dick, we invited a few other kids to join in, but a couple of them crashed into one another and got hurt. So instead, Dad and I trade turns, racing around trying to catch one another. Once we're both finally worn out, we agree to head back home.

The rest of the afternoon goes by pretty relaxedly, including Dad and I watching a couple episodes of The Gray Ghost together. Finally, it all leads up to a very quiet dinner. I take my normal seat next to Dad, but the rest of the table is empty. Tim and Dick are both out, but it still feels normal, except for the reminder: a fifth place setting. Like so many days over the past few weeks, it's empty, ready for a guest that feels more away than here with each new trip that inevitably lasts longer than planned.

Toward the end of our meal, Tim finally comes back in. He tells us all about the day's adventure, how he and Dick had run into an old roommate of Dick's from Gotham University, a retired football quarterback, who had offered them a tour of the Gotham Knights' stadium. Dick had stayed out to meet up with some of their other college friends and planned to be back home late in the evening.

Tim, meanwhile, headed home to rest before the evening's patrol. Shortly after Alfred comes in and takes our dinner plates back to the kitchen, he heads upstairs to take a nap while he still has the time. I stay seated in my chair a bit longer. Dad stays beside me. I can feel him watching me for a bit, but after waiting a few minutes, he relaxes in his chair and reaches across behind me to rest a hand on my left shoulder.

Neither of us speaks. There's no need to, nothing to say. Eventually, the silence is broken by Alfred as he comes back into the room with a small serving tray atop his right hand. "Master Bruce, Miss Caitlyn, I prepared some dessert for you this afternoon that I think is just the thing to end the day with. Strawberry crumble cake."

I can't help myself and perk right up at the news. Alfred comes around behind us and sets a dessert plate in front of me, then Dad. On each is a piece of the crumble topped with a big dollop of whipped cream. We both thank him. I can't help expressing my excitement, though Dad's gratitude is a little more reserved.

We dig in even before Alfred is able to leave the room and the first bite is a reminder of all the reasons I love Alfred's homemade desserts. I can't help myself and it's not long before I start to swing my legs beneath my chair as I eat. A strange awareness sweeps through me as the day's worries slip away while my thoughts focus on enjoying the sweet, sugary top of the crumble and the cake and strawberry and rhubarb layers beneath.

Not long after we both finish eating, Alfred is back again to collect our silverware and plates. We both thank him again. As he leaves again, Daddy puts his hand back on my left shoulder while chuckling. He leans close as I turn to my right to him and he tells me, "Timing like that sometimes makes me think he's watching to know just when to come back."

"Or perhaps I still have my hearing, Master Bruce," comes Alfred's immediate reply. My jaw falls open as I turn back to doorway he left through. I can hear just how far away he is and I really didn't think Dad, who just smirks and chuckles in response, spoke that loudly. Almost directly after, I hear another far off sound as a door slams closed in another direction.

"Well, Tim is already home and I expect it's too early for Dick to be back, so guess who decided to finally join us," Dad says. I can hear the disappointment in his voice and I know I wasn't the only one looking at the extra place setting while we ate.

Barely more than a minute later, Diana enters the room. She practically pulls herself in from the hall—or pulls herself to a stop as she pauses just inside the room—with her hands on the sides of the doorframe. "I can't believe you didn't tell me," she says in a low tone. I can't guess how long it took her to fly back from Metropolis, but I'm surprised it sounds like she's still in shock because of something she learned there.

"What are you talking about?" Daddy answers evenly, lifting his hands a few inches from the table and turning his palms up. As he speaks, Diana lets go of the door and comes up toward the table.

"You told me all about Shayera and Wally and their families, but you didn't say a thing about Kal's daughter," she says frankly, coming to a stop standing opposite Daddy.

"Alright, but the better question is: why are you only finding out about this today? This isn't the first time you've seen him since you came back," he quickly shoots back, though his own voice doesn't carry the same tone as Diana's.

By the time I turn back to Diana, her expression has lost much of the agitation she held when she burst in. She meets my eyes for the briefest of moments, then turns away while dropping her arms back to her sides, seeming to shrink even as she stands a little taller from sliding her feet back together.

"Ahh, Miss Diana. It's good to see you've returned," Alfred interrupts as he comes back into the room. "I do apologize, I've just put away your dishes. Give me just a few moments and I'll fetch your dinner."

Without waiting, Alfred turns around and heads back to the kitchen, leaving just as quickly as he arrived. Just before he gets back outside the door, Diana speaks up again. "You don't need to go to the trouble. I'll just come with you."

"And we were just finishing up," Dad speaks up to say, pushing his chair back and putting a hand on my shoulder.

I looked back as Daddy and I left the dining room. The image of Diana's back as she followed Alfred out of the room stuck with me. The sight didn't stick with me as a happy feeling, nor was it something helped by the look she gave us when she turned away from me. It reminded me of how I felt when she exiled me, though not nearly as intense. It didn't feel like she was just walking into another room. It felt like she was walking away from us. I felt…betrayed.

Heading into the study, I am not surprised to see my father at his desk, leaning back in his chair with a newspaper held up in front of his face. I begin crossing the room immediately, not bothering to speak until I'm much closer and know I won't need to raise my voice. Just as I'm about to speak, he folds the paper with a sigh, shaking his head even while his eyes follow the top-facing article as he sets it back on the desktop.

"Daddy," I begin with caution.

"What's up?" Daddy asks in response, brightening as he turns his attention to me from the paper.

"I've been thinking…" I begin as I approach the desk.

"What about?" It's clear he's interested, though I know the subject will dampen the mood.

I wait until coming to a stop leaning against the side of the desk before I begin to answer. "I changed my mind. I want to go meet Superman."

"What?" he quickly demands while leaning forward in his chair. "No!" The firm denial leaves me conflicted. On the one hand, a part of me feels like the burden has been lifted from my shoulders and the choice has been taken out of my hands. I even find myself relaxing. On the other hand, I need to know for myself and a bigger part of me knows the only way I'm going to find out is in person.

That part of me left unsatisfied won't accept such a simple refusal, no matter how much I wish I could just leave things well enough alone. "Daddy!" I begin to plead, but he doesn't even let me start, cutting in before I can add anything more.

"He stays out of my business, I stay out of his. That was the deal and that's the end of this discussion."

I let my frustration show on my face, but don't yet try again. Instead, I start waiting for him to rethink his position. It doesn't take long for me to run out of patience, though. "Daddy—"

"My answer is still 'no', Caitlyn," he interrupts.

Even in the face of my father's resolution, I don't give up. He starts reaching for the newspaper again, but seeing that I'm not breaking eye contact, he stops with one hand on his desk and the other on the chair's arm as he stares back, waiting for me to try to object again. Eventually, Daddy breaks the silence. "Alright, at least tell me why."

A rush of elation runs through me for getting through and having held firm, but then I remember why I want to go and deflate, my gaze falling with my voice. "Because I want to know what she won't tell me, about going to Metropolis. I was thinking that if she won't tell me, maybe he will," I answer before looking again to his face.

For a moment, Daddy is surprised at my answer. Soon after, he starts laughing. Without stopping, he turns his chair and slides it back before pulling me in and sitting me across his lap. "You really are my daughter, aren't you, Caitlyn?" he stops himself to ask while wrapping his arms around me gently.

"Daddy, I've always been your daughter!" I exclaim in protest.

He tips his head to his right so I'm not looking to my right to look at his face. "I've never doubted it," he answers with a relaxed smile, calming me. I smile in response to his surety as I settle into being hugged. After a short silence, he adds, "I was just thinking that you and I are a lot alike."

My smile brightens as I turn toward the window, but then my mind goes back to my motivation for all this, to that feeling of betrayal I felt when Diana came home so late. She said she came back for me…for us. Then I remember her words and I'm not so sure. 'Hera knows I didn't come back for your father,' she'd said, the words echoing in my mind. It'd made me angry—like when my classmates make fun of me or my family.

It occurs to me that I wouldn't be in this mess if she hadn't followed us back from the island. I look up to my father's face, see the smile on his lips. He's always said he did it for me—that he wanted her in my life as more than just a bad memory—but… It's finally hitting me that he's never really talked about how he feels. "Did you want her to come back? Do you still like her?" I ask. Only after the words slip out to do I wonder if I really want to know the answers.

He starts with a sigh. "I'm glad she's back," he finally begins. He spins around in his chair, turning us toward the study's windows. I turn my head to the left, joining him in looking out over the manor's grounds. "But it's been a long time, Caitlyn. If there are other places she wants to go, things she'd rather do… Well, I don't have to like it, but l can live with it so long as she doesn't take you away with her."

The thought, the mere mention, fills me with sadness as I imagine—in spite of my best wishes—what that might be like. To be uprooted, to be taken away from my home, my family, my friends, my father. It's painful to think about and I lift my arms to wrap them as best I can around my father's chest, as much to draw strength as to give reassurance. "I'm not going anywhere without you, Daddy," I promise solemnly.

"Thank you, Caitlyn," he all but whispers as he hugs me back. Soon he starts speaking again and when he does, I lift my head to see him staring out the window again. "I've done a lot of thinking since Diana first left me, since you were born. Sometimes—" He pauses to chuckle softly. "—more thinking than was probably healthy.

"I tried to figure it all out—what I was doing, what I had done to myself, what everything I had done and was continuing was worth. Then you arrived and suddenly I was a parent and Diana was gone again. I couldn't just be a guardian for you, as I was for Dick and Tim. I don't mean to say that I didn't try with your brothers, but that wasn't enough. I had to be—wanted to be more—to be a father, a dad, even a daddy.

"After becoming a father, I realized I had answers to my questions. Everything lead to you, every joy and every sorrow in my life brought me to you. I felt myself changing, I had a reason to live for the future instead of the past, but that made me feel guilty.

"At first, the weight of it was so heavy on my shoulders. You'll probably think this is weird, but night after night, I stood before my parents' gravestone in the cowl, begging their forgiveness for finding I had become happy again.

"I don't think I'd ever finished grieving for my parents. As I grew to accept what'd happened, I realized that my parents had taught me a lot about being a parent, lessons that I was too young to see at the time."

"We first learn how to be parents from our own," I jump in to say.

"That's right," Daddy praises. He puts a hand atop my head and hugs me a little tighter for a moment with his other arm. "But becoming a father made it harder to be Batman—and, in a way, it still is a struggle."

He pauses for a moment. "I bet you're glad to hear that," he comments. I stay silent, but nod my head, filled with a hope that I might one day convince him to stop.

"For a little while, I did try to stop, but it barely lasted a month," my father continues much more solemnly, unknowingly but immediately putting a damper on my newfound hope. "People noticed very quickly that Batman was missing—criminals, the police, the news media, and the general public. On TV and in the newspapers, I watched crime rates begin to climb.

"Eventually, it reached a point where I understood that, even if maybe I didn't need Batman as I had for so many years, Gotham still did. That wasn't something I could ignore, which is why I've tried to be both ever since. I wanted to be Bruce Wayne to be a father for you and then be Batman to make our city a better place —in that order, whenever possible.

"It's a lot for someone to have all on one plate. If not for Alfred, I'd never have managed to keep it all together—even going back to before you were born. The problem, and the long-winded answer to your question, is that I said a lot to Diana in hopes she would come back with us and I didn't lie to her, but I've spent so much time being just a father that I don't know if I can be anything new for someone else, or if I even want to be."

For the first few moments, I don't know how to react. I can't think of what I'd even expected to hear. I can't even think of how I feel about his answer. Again, it's Daddy who breaks the silence, this time to change the subject back to the matter at hand. "Have you thought about what you're going to do? How you're going to get to Metropolis?" he asks.

I guess he doesn't want to dwell on what he's said. "No," I admit quietly, looking down over his right arm toward the floor beyond my knees.

He tips his head back, looking thoughtfully to the ceiling. "Alright." He stops there, pausing for a moment before continuing, "Alright, just leave it to me, Caitlyn. I'm not going to go—I doubt you'd get the answers you want with me there, anyhow—but you can take Diana with you and I'll make sure you get to Metropolis to meet him."

I almost backed out when Dad said he wouldn't be going with me, but I think he's right. If Superman feels the same way about him that he feels about Superman, there's no way having them both together in the same room will get me anywhere. It's a good thing Diana was quick in agreeing to go with me. If anything, she seemed more excited for me to go than when she first offered me the chance. I…don't know how to feel about that.

"Alright, I'll be back in a few minutes. I just need to have a quick word with the crew," Dad says as I take my jacket off and toss it onto the couch behind my seat.

"Okay," I answer.

"It's not often that I've had the opportunity to fly in a jet, especially one like this," Diana remarks as she takes the seat opposite me. She pauses while I buckle myself in, leaning down to look out the window by her chair. "Your father's…donations to the League were designed more for utility than comfort," she adds with a smile of nostalgia. She chuckles briefly, then exclaims, "I never would have expected to see a couch on a plane!"

She starts to say more, but Daddy comes back, announcing himself with, "Alright, you're all set." He walks up to me and kneels in front of me. He checks my seatbelt to make sure I'm buckled in properly. "Good." After, he kisses my forehead and then hugs me. I hug him back and tell him I love him. "I love you too, Caitlyn. Have a good trip."

"Oh, you're not coming with us, Bruce?" Diana asks.

"No. I have some things to take care of here in Gotham. Everything will going keep me tied up for most of the day. I might need to have Alfred meet you back here at the airport on his own if I can't make it in time."

Diana acknowledges the response, but doesn't say anything more. After a moment, Daddy speaks back up. "Alright, I'm holding you up." He drops back down, giving me another kiss and he tells me he loves me before whispering, "You're in control. If you want to come home, I've left instructions that when you make the decision, they bring you home as soon as you're on board.

"You remember Alan and Jake, right?" I nod and Dad continues, "They're going to be your pilot and co-pilot today. I rented a limo for you and Diana for the day. The driver is another Wayne Enterprises employee. His name is Peter. Remember, you're in charge, so just let them know if you want to come back." He pulls back, standing a bit taller and with a smile on his lips. "Any questions?"

"Nope! I'm ready," I answer quickly.

Still, no matter how confident I feel on the outside, I can't help thinking this is the first time I'm going to travel without my father with me. There have been some trips with just Dick and Tim, but nothing like a trip to another city. We all say our goodbyes and Daddy heads for the exit. It isn't long before I see him outside the plane near the door, Alfred approaching from the other side of the car with what I'm pretty sure is the car phone in his hand.

I wave down to them and it's a relief when they both see me and wave back. It really helps to relax me, but I just can't shake the feeling that I'm out of my depth. I can't even remember what I was thinking when this seemed like a good idea.

It's not that I mind flying, but I've just never been a fan of having my ears pop after we first get off the ground. Once I get over that, I usually try to sleep through the rest of the flight, though sleep doesn't exactly come easy in a situation like this. I still have too much on my mind.

Eventually, sleep does take me, so I'm still waking up when we finally arrive. I'm awake before we land, but still kind of out of it until a minute or so later. Our driver, Peter, is the first off the plane. Diana and I are barely out of our seatbelts before he's bounding down the steps to the pavement below. A small cart with an airport employee meets him outside and he jumps into the passenger seat before it speeds off.

Across the aisle from me, I see Diana stand up and turn as she lifts her arms as best she can in the cabin of the plane to stretch. She spots me looking toward her as her arms fall back to her sides. "That was a pretty nice flight, don't you think, Caitlyn? Not too long, not too short—nothing like flying to Kasnia or back."

I nod before adding, "Yeah." I can't really think of what more I can say. It probably wasn't long before landing, but I had managed to clear my mind and relax enough to just slept the rest of the way. "Did you fall asleep?" I finally think to ask.

"No, not at all. I've never been able to sleep while flying." She then motions toward the front of the plane while I finally stand. "After you," she tells me politely.

I thank her before heading for the stairs at the front of the plane. The pilots have the door to the cockpit open and our pilot, Alan, meets us at the doorway. "I trust you had a comfortable flight, Miss Wayne." I nod enthusiastically and give a hum of agreement. "Glad to hear it! Your father rented a car for the both of you before we took off. Peter just went to pick it up. You can wait for him to get back in here or down the stairs on the tarmac if you'd like."

After thanking Alan for letting us know, or rather thanking him for reminding me what my father told me, I then turn back to Diana. "What do you want to do?"

"Let's head down," she answers with a smile. "It'll be nice getting to stretch our legs before sitting down again in the car."

The idea sounds pretty good to me as well. It isn't long before we're standing next to the plane, waiting. I take in the sights, the planes coming and going, Metropolis's skyline set away from the airport. It's a nice, clear day out with the sun bright and high in the sky. It immediately reminds me of what Diana had mentioned about the feel of this city.

She was right. The winter here is much milder than back home in Gotham. There's snow on the ground, sure, but it's more like it's here despite the weather rather than because of it. I feel like I could almost go without my coat. Weather aside, the city seems lighter and more modern, like it was all just recently built. The view reminds me a little of the view of Gotham from my house, but I've spent so much time looking at the Gotham skyline from the balcony off Daddy's bedroom or looking at it or drawing it from his office that this feels foreign by comparison.

It doesn't really feel like winter. It doesn't feel like home. I've only just arrived and stepped off the plane, but I already want to go back to Gotham. This isn't like a family vacation, I don't really need to be here or want to be here, but I came here for a reason.

"How're we supposed to meet Superman like this?" I ask, trying to refocus myself.

"I…" Diana begins, but she quickly trails off while trying to come up with an answer. After a moment, she stops and turns, looking up the runway as a limousine approaches us.

It's a sure bet it's Peter coming back in the rental car and he proves me right not a minute later when he stops the car and climbs out to let us in. Peter looks at his watch after opening the back door. "It's just about noon. Shall we start our journey with lunch? I know of a few restaurants nearby with great views of a local park."

"That sounds like a good idea. Peter, isn't it?" Diana asks. Peter nods in response and Diana thanks him for the suggestion before turning back to me. "How's that sound, Caitlyn? Get some lunch and work out a plan for the afternoon."

It's the best idea I've heard and I don't really have any other options in mind. I know she knows who Superman is, but if Dad didn't want to tell me his real name, I don't imagine Diana is too keen on introducing me to him when he's out of costume. She knows Metropolis better than I do and it's not like she's in the dark about why we're here, so I'm going to have to trust her coming up with a plan for us.

I nod to answer, then add quietly, "I am a little hungry." Diana replies with a smile before saying that she is too. She then turns to Peter and the smile fades a bit as she refocuses, motioning toward the open car door and inviting me to get in first. "Thank you," I answer as I climb in.

As Diana gets in next to me, the thought crosses my mind that Daddy isn't here. Not for the usual reasons, but because I don't know if we're going to be able to get lunch if we can't pay. I quickly pull down my jacket zipper and reach for my inside pocket to get out the wallet Daddy gave me with my first allowance.

"What're you doing?" Diana asks as I open my wallet. I stop and look over, see her with her hands on her seatbelt having just buckled herself in.

"Oh," I begin, looking back down into my wallet. I quickly flip through the five bills inside to count what I have. I nod almost without noticing, confident I'll have enough to at least buy lunch. I take a moment to put my wallet back and zip my jacket up before buckling myself in and finally explaining, "I was just thinking that we might not be able to pay for lunch, but I think we'll be alright."

Diana smiles in response. At the same time she drops a hand to her right leg. She pats the top of her thigh and I see the faint outline of something rectangular in her pants pocket. "Don't worry, Caitlyn. I didn't leave empty-handed. I can pay for lunch."

"Oh, good," I say with relief. Honestly, I feel the relief even more than it comes out in my tone. It raises the question of where she got the money, though. It's not like she has a job or anything. Alfred or Dad must have given her spending money. Still, it's better than using my allowance.

With my wallet put away, I settle in for the drive. What I don't expect is that Diana slides closer to me in her seat, pointing out the window at different buildings and sights as we move through the city. With the divider to the front seat closed, she even tells me about battles fought here, from the days of the Thanagarian Invasion and events before and after, mentioning names like Lex Luthor, Metallo, Brainiac, and Darkseid.

In truth, it reminds me a lot of what I learned in history class. Hearing about Metallo is totally new, but what she tells me about the Thanagarian Invasion is the thing I actually find interesting. After all, I became a lot more interested in the invasion once I learned that my Aunt Shay was the Thanagarian advance agent Hawkgirl.

When we finally arrive at the park, Peter brings the car to a stop outside of a deli, calling our attention to McCray's Deli. There are a couple other restaurants within sight along the street, but this place reminds me of a deli in Gotham called The Village that Daddy and I have stopped for lunch at before. If memory serves me right, these sorts of places are usually pretty good for sandwiches.

Just the two of us go inside, leaving Peter and the car nearly opposite the deli and right next to the park. Diana leads me to a nearby crosswalk and we join three others waiting for the light. There are actually quite a few people walking around. Some of them parked along the side of the street like we did, but most seem to just be walking to their destinations. By the time the light finally changes and the crosswalk light tells us it's safe to cross, there are more than a dozen people waiting with us.

I stick close to Diana as we walk, ending up near the front of the group. Some people split off once we've crossed, heading straight along the road. Many of them turn right to follow the road toward the numerous restaurants like me and Diana. There's foot traffic in and out of just about each place, most of the people coming back onto the street are carrying their meals to take back to work, or to eat outside in the park.

As we get closer to McCray's, I start to get anxious about there being a lot of people inside. We arrive at the door and a man in a long tan coat coming out smiles at us. He stops to hold the door open for us and we each thank him in turn as we pass by. Despite my expectations going in, I immediately relax once we're inside. There are more open tables and the room is much more open than I thought it would be. It's more of a restaurant than a sandwich shop.

As we walk inside, I look over to see as an employee finishes cleaning up a small table by the front windows. A woman greets us as we then approach the counters, inviting us into the line to order. There're only a couple people ahead of us and everyone behind the counter seems to be working quickly to fill the orders of the four people still waiting off to the side.

"Any idea what you want, Caitlyn?" Diana asks. I look over, see her with her arms folded against her stomach, looking thoughtfully up at the menu on the display above the counter. I turn to the kids' menu toward the right end of the display first. "I can't remember the last time I had a wrap…" she adds in a quiet voice.

"I'm going to have the ham sandwich," I announce, answering Diana's question. She turns to look at me and I point up to the kids' menu.

"Ham sounds like a good idea. I think I'll have the turkey and ham club wrap then," she says. A few moments later, the woman ahead of us steps aside and the person at the register asks us what she can get for us, leaving Diana to repeat herself, "I'll have the turkey and ham club wrap. Caitlyn?"

She turns to me as she finishes and I place my order, "I'm going to have the ham Italian from the kids' menu, please."

The woman behind the counter confirms our orders, then asks if there's anything more that we want. Diana tells her that's all we're having and I barely manage to ask about something to drink before we're rung up. It again surprises me that Diana has money to pay with, but as she hands some cash over and gets her change back, I can't bring myself to be upset or curious.

We soon get our orders and, after Diana is ready, we head back in toward the open booths and tables. We end up taking the table by the windows that I'd spotted being cleared beforehand. Settling in, I take the seat nearest to the wall, but even that is out in the open. Diana doesn't offer any thoughts about who should face what way, taking her seat without complaint.

As we get closer and closer to the end of our meal, I think back more and more to why we're here, or at least why I'm here. "How're we supposed to meet him?" I quietly ask, hoping that by now Diana has a plan of action in mind.

"I don't know…" I can tell that Diana's been thinking on it, but it looks like she's been spending most of the day trying to come up with something. I imagine that she's struggling because of me, that she isn't sure how much she can reveal, just like Daddy wouldn't tell me his real name.

I start thinking about identities. Diana knows who Batman is—obviously—and more than likely knows who Superman is. Daddy knows Superman's real name, so they both probably know each other's real name. Diana never had a secret identity, or at least not one that I learned about in school or from Daddy. Daddy and Diana both know all my aunts and uncles and my brothers and it's a sure bet that they both know about a lot more than I've been told.

Thinking about it like that, I realize that Daddy really only told me what I needed to know, about people actually in my life. I kept quiet about all of it because I didn't want it to be true, because I didn't want to believe my father was Batman. I didn't want to bring any more attention to myself at school. I wasn't thinking about the importance of the secret of real names and of separating normal life from being something so different.

"Caitlyn?" Diana asks from across our table. I lift my eyes, see her leaning down toward the table to better put herself in my field of view. "Are you alright?" she asks as I raise my head.

"Yeah, I just…" I begin, trailing off. '…realized how selfish I was.' I can't bring myself to finish aloud.

"Just what?" Diana asks, but the moment after she does, she tips her head and turns. She spends a moment frozen like that and I notice the sound of a police siren. As soon as I figure out what the sound is, she turns around in her seat, looking out the large window beside us and back toward the intersection where we crossed the street.

The sirens grow louder and louder and I lean against the window to look past Diana out the window. It isn't long before a small gray sports car barrels through the intersection, heading up along the road adjacent to the long edge of the park. I see it come around in front of traffic, driving up onto the sidewalk as people run and jump out of the way. My heart leaps into my throat as I realize one of them isn't going to make it, but as the car speeds past and I can see again, the man I expected would be hit is sitting up on the hood of a car stopped at the intersection.

Flashing lights pull me away and I look back toward the intersection as police cars race after the speeding car. One after another they drive through, the traffic at the intersection stopped to make way for them. I shift my vision back to the far corner of the park and see the car turn right and even from here, it's obvious when it strikes the side of another car innocently waiting for the light.

"Finally!" I hear Diana mutter. Confused, I turn back to her, only to see her looking back to her left, toward the other side of the park. As I follow her gaze and look up, I see a form in the sky, something—no, a person—red and blue.

'It's Superman!' I realize with astonishment. I hear others pointing him out aloud and I can hear the relief in their voices. I can't help myself and look around at the other restaurant customers. I recognize the joy and the relief, hear someone mention how glad they are that Superman has arrived, that no one will get hurt, but all I can think about is how different their reactions are to my own.

I've learned about him in school, I've seen him in pictures, but today, even though it was just a glimpse as he sailed through the air, is the first time I've ever seen him with my own eyes. My thoughts go back to what Daddy said about Themyscira. To the people of Metropolis, this is their normal. To me, he's anything but normal. And he's the person I have to confront.

"Excuse me. Caitlyn Wayne?" I hear a woman's voice from behind me. It sounds familiar, but all the same, hearing someone say my name—especially amidst all the excitement—startles me and I whirl back, barely aware as I turn that Diana is turning as well. "I thought so," the woman knowingly says once she sees my face. She has a notepad and pen in her left hand and is extending her right hand to me for a handshake. "I'm not sure if you remember me, but we met once when I interviewed your father. Lois Lane Kent, I'm a reporter with the Daily Planet."

My first reaction is a wave of dread sweeping over me at the thought of dealing with a reporter, but then the name clicks and I remember the interview. Images flood my thoughts as I think back. I remember sitting beside Daddy on a sofa in the living room back home while Lois sat across from us. I remember her being nice in what little she said to me and my relief that she was mostly focused on talking to Daddy instead of asking me a whole bunch of questions. I remember the odd glances she sent my way every so often as they talked.

The addition of Kent sticks out in my mind. It sounds familiar, but from the mentions in school to the interview she visited us for, I don't think that I've ever known her as anything more than Lois Lane. Regardless, I push the thought aside to pull myself back to the present. "Hi," I finally answer, doing my best to relax. I lift my right hand to accept her handshake.

She straightens as she lets go, lifts her focus past me. Her smile brightens and twists almost into a confident smirk. "And you are?" she asks.

"Ahh—" Diana begins with a start. She gets out of her chair and comes to stand by the table, offering Lois her own right hand for a greeting handshake. "—Diana Prince," she introduces herself, clearly still surprised.

"Ahh!" she excitedly exclaims. "Well, it's good to finally meet you, Diana," Lois comments as they shake hands, surprising both Diana and me.

Diana immediately reaches across herself with her left hand to point out the window as they release one another's hand. "Shouldn't… Don't you need to be out there reporting about what's happening?"

"With Superman?" Lois pauses for a moment, leaning to look out the window. I look back outside as well, things have pretty much gone back to normal, the police cars are all gone, with the exception of a single cop at the far intersection, where the speeding car had struck the other car before driving away. "No!" she exclaims dismissively. "Superman Stops Runaway Car!—these days, that's a dime a dozen story here in Metropolis. I think I've got the more interesting story right here."

She looks around and I see a couple people looking at what we're doing when I follow her gaze around the room. "How would you feel about giving an interview back at The Planet? We'll be able to talk a little more comfortably there.

"Besides, my poor husband is probably still trying to find a good parking spot. He made me promise him we'd share the byline, so I probably should wait at least until he can join us before starting to interview you."

"That's…probably a good idea," Diana responds. She packs up her things quickly, gathering the leftovers and trash from our table. "Come on, Caitlyn, let's get back to the car."

"Oh, good. You've got a ride. Mind if I join you?" Lois asks.

"Of course," Diana answers, but I can tell she's forcing the smile she flashes.

"Thanks. Let me just make a quick call," she informs as she pulls the purse hanging from her shoulder forward and opens it with her right hand, pulling out a mobile phone and flipping it open. After a few moments, she motions to the door, hastening us outside ahead of her. As we get outside, I look back to see her holding the phone to her ear. "Hey, it's me. Look, when you get this, just bring the car back to The Planet. I'm getting a ride back, so I'll meet you there." She seems to finish there, but then adds in an exasperated tone, "Yes, I remember I promised to share the byline."

It isn't long before we are all in the back of the car, with Peter driving us to our destination, the Daily Planet building. Lois is sitting across from us and facing us. She has her legs and arms crossed, her things beside her on the seat. She's staring Diana down with a knowing grin that's bordering on unsettling.

"This hardly seems like a coincidence. How did you know we were going to be at that deli?" Diana asks. Looking over, it's clear she's over her surprise and is unfazed by Lois's stare.

"It doesn't, does it?" Lois concedes. She shifts in her seat, uncrossing her legs before crossing them the other way. "An anonymous tip came in to The Planet earlier this morning. They mentioned a Gotham story that we might be interested to break. I think I know just who the pointy-eared caller was now…"

She pauses, smirking. "Honestly, I'm a little disappointed in myself. I should have figured it out myself first, but then again, I don't normally cover celebrity news. We might not be here now if Perry thought this was going to be a wild goose chase of a story. I wouldn't have let him assign this to me, but when I heard the tip for myself and realized just how big of a story it might be... And I can't think of a bigger story out of Gotham than the identity of Caitlyn Wayne's mother."

I sit shocked in my seat. I'm not sure what gave it away. "What?" Lois asks me, "I know Bruce. Who else would he trust you coming to Metropolis with?" She turns away from me as the suggestion sinks in, looking back to Diana. "Anyone who recognizes Caitlyn is bound to figure it out eventually. Of course, what Perry won't know is that I can't write the bigger story. Isn't that right, Wonder Woman?"

That questions shocks us both, though Diana gets over it very quickly again. Lois smiles in response, then her expression shifts and she adds in a lower tone, "After we get the interview wrapped up, I might have to ask you a few off-the-record questions as one woman to another…"

The rest of the car ride is filled with awkward silence. Neither Diana, Lois, nor I have anything more we want to say. When I look over at Lois, I can practically see the gears turning in her head as she thinks about the interview ahead. Diana has settled for looking out at Metropolis to pass the time as we wait to reach our destination. Fortunately for all of us, the ride is short.

When we finally arrive and get out along the curb in front of the Daily Planet building, Peter stops me for a moment. "Miss Wayne," he says quietly, leaning close. Once I've turned to him, he continues just as softly, "I wanted to let you know that your father was very particular in his instructions; we leave when you're ready. So, when you decide it's time to leave, just let me know and we'll head back to the airport and get you back to Gotham. No delays, no questions asked. Alright?"

I nod. "Thank you," I add with gratitude, happy for the reminder of what Daddy said to me before.

"Caitlyn?" Diana asks from a few feet away.

"I'm coming!" I exclaim while practically bounding ahead to catch up with the two adults.

We head inside to the elevators and make our way up to the top floors of the building. Once upstairs, Lois leads us across the floor to her desk. I look around, seeing her name on the awards scattered about and nameplate on the edge of her desk. The disorganization kind of surprises me. As she pulls out a larger notepad and grabs a recorder, I hear someone running across the floor toward us.

Turning, I see a man heading our way. He slows to a stop by the desk as Lois looks up. "Glad you could make it, Smallville. You're just in time. We were just getting ready to begin the interview.

"Clark Kent, meet Caitlyn Wayne. Caitlyn Wayne, Clark Kent." She pauses there, adding not much louder than a soft whisper that I would have missed if I hadn't turned back to her and if I couldn't practically read the words on her lips, "I believe you two already know one another."

'I've never met this man before,' I respond to myself. I turn back from Lois to this Clark Kent, noticing the strained breathing as he tries to stand straight again. "Hi," I answer when he greets us after being introduced. I think a little more about the name and in a flash it comes back to me, he's where Lois got the 'Kent' from. This must be her husband.

I don't think much of it at first, but before I can push the thought aside, I remember something else, hearing the name from my father and what Diana said in response. 'So long as you're planning on seeing Kent on your own,' I think to myself, practically mimicking Daddy's voice in my mind. Diana had then gone on about wanting to introduce me to Kal.

Daddy and Diana both know who Superman is. They used different names, but they both knew they were talking about the same person, about Superman. And I'm here to meet Superman. So if Kal-El is his birth name, then Kent would be part of his Earth name.

I turn to Diana, my lips parted, but trying to keep my jaw from simply hanging open with surprise as the realizations hit me one after another. I don't think she realizes it, but she was right. Lois's meeting us wasn't a coincidence. The 'point-eared caller' Lois mentioned who told the people at The Daily Planet that we would be there at the deli had to be Daddy. He must have asked Peter to bring us there.

I still don't know why she would call Daddy pointy-eared. He doesn't have cat ears or—'She knows! She meant the pointy ears of a bat!' I realize, whipping my head back around to look at Lois. If she's married to Superman and knows that Diana was Wonder Woman, then it would make sense that she would know about Daddy. 'And beforehand, she wasn't even talking about me knowing Clark, she meant that Clark knows Diana because he's Superman and she was Wonder Woman!'

Now I'm left with a dilemma: whether or not I should tell them that I've figured it out, that I know. If I'm wrong—not that I think I am, even if Kent isn't exactly an uncommon name—I don't want to have to explain my thinking. If I'm right, I don't want to confront Superman with Diana right there with us. She won't tell me what's going on by herself, so I can't imagine she would ever let him say anything while she's around to protest. I need to be able to get Superman's attention and not have to involve anyone else.

I try to think back to the lessons from history class where we learned about the Justice League, about Superman specifically, that I can use to my advantage. 'Strength? No. Flying? Not helpful. Heat vision? No, no, no. None of that helps me. Oh, five senses. What could I do that he would he see? With x-ray vision? Maybe... No. No, all I can think of is hiding something behind my back, but the idea of him looking through me is just weird. Oh! Hearing!'

The idea pops into my head quickly enough, but how to act on it is another thing entirely, or at least feels like one. Fortunately, most of the attention is on Diana, so I have plenty of time to come up with ways to get Superman's attention, starting with Morse code by tapping my fingernails together behind my back—a stupid idea that falls apart when I realize how hard it would be getting Superman's attention when I don't know the Morse code for the letter 'U'. I do soon settle on just saying something really quietly, but I'm still left with the other problem from the Morse code idea: what to say.

"Su—" I start to whisper, but cut myself off when I realize that it's too loud. I test my breathing and, after a couple tries, manage to pretty much breathe, "Can Batman come back now that your best friend has returned?"

I immediately focus on Clark Kent's face. I hear Lois shift the conversation back to starting the interview. As she talks, his face twists with confusion. He finally turns down to me and I respond with a serious expression and a slight nod. "Ahh… Actually, Lois, I was just thinking it might be a little quicker if we split up and do a couple one-on-one interviews."

Diana and Lois look to him, a little surprised. "Alright, sure," Lois says after a few moments, then she points to him and adds, "But I get to interview Diana." Clark nods, holding his hands up as if in self-defense.

Lois then turns to me with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Caitlyn. I just can't pass up this opportunity. Besides, Clark's better with kids than I am."

"You were fine with Titano—" Clark starts to say, but Lois quickly cuts him off.

"Stop right there," she commands as her head whips around to her husband. He backs down quickly, apologizing, but a momentary smile does cross his lips after Lois turns back to us. She looks to Diana and asks, "You don't mind, do you?"

"I…" Diana begins. She looks down to me and pauses. After a moment, she turns back to Lois and answers, "So long as Caitlyn doesn't mind." She turns to me again and I nod my consent.

Lois doesn't waste any more time, leading the three of us toward a couple of side-by-side conference rooms along a far wall. I see a few offices further down the wall to the left, including one with the name Perry White in the window. I'm pretty sure that's who Lois was talking about having given her this story, especially with the title "Editor-in-Chief" below his name.

Clark opens the door to the right-hand conference room and makes way for me to head in first. I hear Lois start speaking again and turn around to see him at the doorway, paused and looking back toward his wife. "Oh, something to keep in mind, Smallville. Bruce told me she's not a big fan of over-eager reporters, so…you know…if she doesn't want to answer a question, don't push her."

"Got it. Thanks for the heads-up," he responds before turning back toward the room and following me in.

I keep an eye on the door as he closes it. The door latch clicking into place reminds me again that I am here to confront this man about the visits that Diana is so tightlipped about. The reminder nearly makes me lose my nerve. 'In what universe did I think this would be a good idea? I shouldn't have let Daddy let me come here on my own…'

That's when I look up to his face and see that he's nervous too. As I watch, he lifts an arm behind his head and scratches, as if scratching away his doubt. "So, I, ahh…I guess Bruce told you about me," he starts off with.

His tone—even more than his words—proves me right. He is nervous. "No, he told me about Superman. I think he planned a lot of what's happening today, but I figured it out on my own. Although I wasn't totally sure I was right when I said it," I answer. After a short pause, I ask to confirm, "This may be a dumb question, but Lois knows, right?"

The mention of his wife softens his expression and he smiles, glancing to his left, to the other conference room beyond the wall. "Yeah, she does know. And, honestly, I don't think it's a dumb question. Like the saying goes, the only bad questions are the ones you don't ask, right?" he answers, much more relaxed. He motions toward the conference table in the center of the room and heads for a seat facing the outside windows. I move to sit opposite him so I can see the windows back out to the rest of the floor and, more importantly, the door.

We sit in silence for a while. He still looks kind of unsure and I just don't want to be the first to speak. Curiosity gets the better of him and he asks, "Did he send you to try to get him re-admitted to the League?"

I almost answer, but then stop to think about the question for a moment. I said as much to get his attention, but neither of us really knows what the other knows. "What if I didn't know what you meant?" I ask instead.

His expression grows more serious and he clasps his hands together in front of himself on the table. "You're right," he begins. "So perhaps we should each be candid about what we know."

I have a few moments to try to work out the meaning of the word "candid" before he speaks again. He starts off in a low voice, careful about revealing secrets aloud even when I can see behind him that there's no one outside paying us any attention. "You're correct, I am Superman. In this context, you can just call me Clark.

"In the wake of Diana's departure, I removed your father from the League in an effort to stabilize our ranks after a series of…incidents that he was involved in, incidents that saw friends getting hurt. I expect you're here to appeal to me to get him his membership back."

He stops, leaving me to respond. Before I do, I say what I'm not sure I'll ever have another chance to tell this man, "Thank you." I pause, see the surprise on his face, then drop my gaze back to my hands before explaining myself. "My father…I know how hard he worked to keep things a secret. He doesn't think and I don't think that we'd have been as close as we are if he'd had to worry about the Justice League too."

"Wow, I… I didn't really…" he tries to answer. The effort trails off and I look back up, see him looking away guiltily. "For what it's worth, Caitlyn, I'm glad for the chance to meet you. Diana's been telling me about you."

That reminds me why I'm here and the tone in which he says it irks me, but first, I want to answer his question. "No," I say firmly. When he looks back to me, I add, "I don't want my Dad to rejoin the League and he didn't send me here to try."

"Really?" he asks, a little skeptically. "Well, I can't imagine you came all this way just to meet me. Diana said you didn't seem all that interested when she first brought it up." That's two references to Diana's visits he's made—one right after the other—and I have to close my hands over the bottom corners of my coat to keep it together.

I may not have had any idea how I was going to meet Superman, but what I've wanted to say is something I've thought about a lot over the past few days. And with him dressed just like a normal guy instead of something so much more superhuman, I feel like it'll be a whole lot easier to say.

"Did she also tell you that she doesn't plan on being Wonder Woman again?" I ask, doing what I can to keep the frustration from my tone and probably failing miserably. Clark starts to respond, but I continue before he can throw me off track. "She said she was coming back to be a part of my life. How are we supposed to be friends, to trust one another, if she can't even tell me about visiting you? I don't want her coming to see you again."

I stop there, my cheeks hot with anxiety. I almost feel like I'll be sick. My heart is beating loudly enough that I'm pretty sure I can hear it trying to leap out of my chest. A part of me can't believe I actually went through with it, that I kept it together long enough to more or less tell Superman what to do, for me to have come here, to his home city, and tell him off.

My thoughts come around to what he might do now, led by a wave of dread. 'What if I make him mad?' News videos of Superman taking a beating and more than returning the favor come to mind and I shrink in my chair, afraid of what he could do if angry. I turn to my right, thinking of the other conference room on the other side of the wall and wondering for a moment if I were to scream, would Diana come and be able to protect me.

Even with Diana only a room away, it's thought of my father that calms me. I've seen for myself how far he's willing to go to protect me. I'd never have made it this far from home without him together with me if he'd ever thought Superman might hurt me. With that thought in mind, I take a breath to relax myself.

Clark speaks up at nearly the same time. "I…I think I know what you're imagining and you're definitely mistaken."

I look up, surprised. We stare at one another in silence and I try to figure out if I should believe him, no matter how much I want to. "Really?" I finally squeak out.

He smiles in response. I don't want to tell him that the smile isn't exactly helping. Nodding, he adds aloud, "Really."

I think back to when Diana came back from her last visit with this man, to the feeling of betrayal I'd felt, how focused she'd been on having been made freshly aware of Superman's daughter, how she'd brushed explaining why she hadn't heard about it earlier by simply walking away from the question at the first opportunity. "Really?" I ask again.

He doesn't hesitate at all before answering. "Really."

I can't shake it, the sense of betrayal. As I drop my chin to my chest, it dawns on me that after all we've said, after all I've managed to say, I never asked him the most important question. Better late than never, I ask, "Then why won't she talk about visiting you with Dad—" I nearly let myself say 'Daddy' before stopping myself. "—with me?"

At first, he doesn't respond with anything more than an uncertain release of breath. I look up, hoping he can see that I need to know, no matter how good or bad the answer. Instead, he turns away, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck while he turns to his left, toward the conference room next door. Maybe he's even listening in and watching as they talk.

I can't do it anymore.

I feel myself crumbling emotionally. Whatever confidence led me here is gone. I want to go home. I want Daddy. I fight back welling tears; I don't want him to see me cry. With a light push, my chair rolls away from the table. I get up and quickly walk around the table on my way to the door.

"Caitlyn?" he asks from my left as I pass by him. I ignore it and keep walking. Before I know it, a blur passes before me. Suddenly, he's standing before me in front of the door and I can feel the air moving around me, as though still trying to catch up.

I gulp down a yelp of surprise as the dread of making him mad comes back as a paralyzing fear. I look up and see him holding his hands out. "Hold on, Caitlyn. Slow down," he says, but the words don't really register. For a brief moment, my fear flips around, becoming an all-consuming anger. It lasts just long enough for me to lift my hands, closed into tight fists, and lash out, but he moves his own hands to catch my fists before they can connect.

Instinct kicks in and I hear myself whine in protest as I try to pull my captive hands free. I can't budge my hands or his. "Let me go, you homewrecker!" I unthinkingly blurt as I pull at my wrists.

"Caitlyn, stop! You're going to hurt yourself!" he exclaims over me. I pause for a moment, ending my struggles when my mind registers the pain in my wrists from trying to pull so hard. I hear him sigh in relief before adding calmly, "Lois and I are married. I'm not having an affair with Diana."

He still hasn't let go of my hands, but I ignore that for now. A small part of me wants to believe him, but a simple claim of innocence doesn't prove anything to me. "Then you tell me what happened!" I demand.

He hesitates, buying time with another sigh, then drops down onto one knee before me, bringing my hands together and down in front of my waist so I'm not holding them over my head anymore. Once he's eye-to-eye with me, he answers in an unmistakably kind voice, "It's…not really my place to tell you."

The tone doesn't help. The words echo in my mind, back and forth, over and over, before I finally silence my thoughts. I stand a little straighter, my arms slack as he holds my hands still. "Let me go," I say in as even a tone as I can manage. Confusion flashes across his face, but he doesn't yet release my hands. "I'm going home. Let go."

Finally, he releases my hands. I waste no time, walking quickly around Clark Kent to open the door behind him. I leave, closing the door behind myself before he can follow. I turn to my right, walking to the other conference room. Without knocking, I open the door and step partway inside. My eyes find Diana's as she sits on the far side of the table like I had, watching the door. Lois cuts herself off asking something about Diana and my father as she turns to me too.

"We're going home," I tell Diana in a low, flat voice. Without waiting, I turn, leaving the door open as I head across the floor back to the elevator. Diana says my name in question, but I don't stop. I don't plan on stopping until I get home. I hear chairs moving and the other door opening and Diana apologizing to Lois before chasing after me.

My thoughts next focus on Lois's voice and her sarcastic comment. "Good job, Smallville. I told you to be careful. What on Earth did you say?"

In a stroke of luck and perfect timing, the elevator dings and its doors open just before I reach them on the far side of the room. A man with bright red hair like Uncle Wally's comes out of the elevator carrying a box of papers. Fortunately, he sees me approaching and steps aside quickly so I don't run into him. "Caitlyn Wayne?" he asks a moment later, I assume as he recognizes me. I take another look at him as I turn around in the elevator and press the button for the ground floor. "What's wrong?" he asks when I recognize him as the photographer who took the picture of me and Daddy when Lois came to interview us.

Diana places a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Sorry," she says before quickly passing by him and joining me in the elevator. The doors close a moment later and we spend the rest of the trip down and then back to the airport alternating between stretches of silence and Diana trying to get me to tell her what's wrong.

A part of me sees it as fitting, as just desserts that I won't tell her about my meeting with Superman when she won't tell me about hers, but that's not my intention. I just want to go home. I don't want to talk about it now. I already know it's going to be all I'll think about on the way back to Gotham, and also the first thing my father and I will talk about when we get back home. That's more than enough.

True to their word and what Daddy said before we left, Peter, Alan, and Jake waste no time preparing the plane to bring us back home. Diana and I settle into our seats again and I do my best to stay quiet and ignore any attempts at conversation. She tries just one more time shortly after takeoff before resigning herself to the fact that I don't want to talk.

Just as I expected, the memory of my conversation with Clark Kent—with Superman—replays over and over in my head. Recalling the afternoon's events even keeps me awake during the flight, though I can't imagine sleep bringing the relief that it might normally offer. I think about what he said and about what I said. I try to think back to when the four of us were standing together, what they were talking about while I was dealing with one realization after another. In the very least, I try to remember the way they acted with one another.

Eventually, my thoughts come back to calling Superman a homewrecker. I don't know why that particular word came to mind, but I guess that's what it all comes down to. It felt like Diana was leaving me and Daddy to be with all the friends she'd lost touch with while away. It always felt like he was the big reason she'd go away, so I kept thinking about confronting just him. In hindsight, I guess I didn't want to question him about Diana's visits as much as I wanted to blame him for taking away my friend.

And then he talked about marriage and affairs. And Diana talked about coming back for me and about not coming back for Daddy. And Daddy talked about letting Diana do what she wants, so long as she doesn't try to tear us apart.

'Well, what's so bad about Daddy?' I ask myself, directing the question at Diana and Superman. I've looked up to him all my life. He loves me and he has taught me so much and done so much for me. He's my father and he means pretty much everything to me. 'He told me to try to see the good in you, but why don't you see what's good about him anymore?' I ask myself, this time directing the question solely at Diana.

Of course she doesn't answer. A small part of me knows it's because I didn't say anything aloud, but another wonders if it's because I'm asking the wrong question. A new one forms in my head, bringing back all the memories of the afternoon. Bits and snippets of what happened in the conference room loop in my mind's eye, sometimes in order, other times at random.

Finally, my frustration gets the better of me and I mutter barely above the droning noises of the plane, "What's so great about him?"

"Hmm? I'm sorry, Caitlyn. Did you say something?" Diana asks, turning as she directs her attention across the aisle to me again.

Before she's even done speaking, I squeeze my eyes shut as I lose myself to my emotions, drop my chin to my chest, and yell at nearly the top of my lungs, "Daddy's a better man than he'll ever be!"

Author's Note: I do want to thank everyone for all of the support. Time has become a bit of a luxury, but no matter the obstacles, I want to finish this story.