Legend

Paris was cold and drizzly, but I got to see the Tower and survey the city. We had a bracing lunch at one of the restaurants, then Damian took me to his real purpose for visiting: lingerie. He lost his head, and it's good that he's a rich man, is all I've got to say, and I was grateful we weren't flying commercial because of the extra baggage fee we'd have incurred. Then a brief flight to England, where we spent the night in a hotel and turned up on my grandma's doorstep in the morning. She was surprised to see me, but thrilled at my news and gave Damian a more thorough grilling than he'd gotten from any of my other relatives. The interesting thing was that he didn't exert himself to charm; his charm is practically a lethal weapon when he turns it on, and I appreciated that he was letting Grandma meet his real self. Finally she pronounced that I had found a good man and we had a late lunch, showing her the pictures the photographer had taken the day after our engagement.

"I wanted to say that I'll take care of your travel to New York any time you'd like to visit," Damian said, patting his mouth with the napkin. "Any time. You'll probably want to come over when Alex goes dress shopping, and for the wedding itself, or just to visit. We have a corporate jet that can fly you, or if that's not available, we can get you first class on a commercial flight."

"You don't have to do that," Grandma said, flustered.

"I do," he said, and finally the charm offensive came out with his smile. "You're important to Alex, which means you're important to me. You'll be my grandmother-in-law, which means that I get to arrange these things."

"No, I'll be your grandma too," she said, patting his hand.

He teared up a bit and unselfconsciously patted his eyes with the napkin. "I've never had a grandma. This is going to be awesome."

After lunch, I gave her some souvenirs that I'd picked up. We had to go, but I'd be seeing her soon. She and Damian exchanged telephone numbers, and finally we were going home. We mostly slept on the way home and were met by Alfred and the Rolls. I was glad to see him after the trip, and he got us home with a minimum of fuss although there was a slightly raised eyebrow at our expanded baggage.

We were home just in time for a pre-dinner cocktail. We distributed some souvenirs, and I think that Bruce and Alfred were both pleased to have been remembered. Then, as everybody settled in, Damian grinned at his dad, succinctly recapped the business part of the trip, and concluded nonchalantly, "And Alex agreed to marry me."

Bruce choked on his cocktail and Alfred actually dropped the shaker. I bounced up and showed them my ring.

"My word," Alfred murmured. "Congratulations, Master Damian, and best wishes to you, Miss Alex."

Bruce gave me a big hug, complete with a little rocking. It was a little unnerving; he's pretty hands-off normally. "Welcome to the family, Alex," he muttered, then pulled Damian into a three-way hug. Then Damian pulled in Alfred, and it was a great moment. Then we heard the door.

"Wow, is there a tragedy here or something?" Dick's voice was concerned. We disentangled, but then Damian put his arms around me and cuddled me to him.

"For Alex, maybe," I snorted "but no. Alex and I just announced our engagement."

"Congratulations!" Barbara bounded over to me and forced Damian to relinquish me for a hug and an inspection of the ring. "Oh, that's gorgeous, Alex! But kind of a small diamond, Damian."

"I was pushing it with a half-caret, Babs. So I went with quality over quantity. Finest cut, D color, flawless at 10x magnification."

"Any bigger would be embarrassing," I said, looking at it with pleasure. "As it is, it's not going to fit under my gloves at work, it'll just punch through the nitrile. I'll have to get a chain to wear it on."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot, Sweet pea, I got you one at Graff. I need to find it for you," Damian told me, slightly muffled by Dick's hug. Then Damian was abruptly released and I got a hug.

"I was kind of worried that Damian was dragging his feet and you'd run off in an attack of good sense," he joked with a final squeeze.

"Everybody keeps acting like it's me who'd take off. I worried that Damian would think I was too much trouble, overall," I said, smiling.

"I think you took care of the trouble," Damian said, kissing my hand. "But it's true I've come closer to heart failure several times more than I'd like since we met." We grinned at each other, and as we sat down to dinner, cocktails forgotten, we told the story. "I thought he'd been shot or something," I said, shaking my head. "One moment he was standing, then next he was on the ground. I couldn't see a threat and all I could think was that my shoes were all wrong for a fight." The table burst out laughing.

"Yeah, she's the right woman for you," Dick said, chortling. Then Damian took out his phone and pulled up the pictures we'd had taken at the Bastion. Everybody loved them and Dick said he wanted to go there now too. I ran up after dinner and got the souvenirs we'd gotten for them too, but after some post-dinner conversation, jet lag and fatigue from all the excitement hit hard and we went to bed.

The next morning, Bruce was all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and peppered us with questions over breakfast. We answered with what sketchy plans we had, and he approved the prenup. Damian had been counting on his dad to see things his way and sulked. "Look, son, you know that our night job isn't easy, and that there are high costs. And while I think that Alex knows and accepts this, there is always the possibility that something will happen that is too much to handle. She won't ask you to give it up, and you won't be able to, which limits the options considerably. So be grateful that she loves you enough to protect you, and get the valuation of your individual wealth done, decide on your terms with the lawyers, I'll expect that Alex's lawyers will have intelligent ideas of their own, decide on your joint terms, and get it signed. Throw it in a safe and forget it. But you can also use it as a form of planning for the future, spelling out what you intend for your future children if you're so blessed." That last, cannily added, was what turned the tide, and Damian jerked a nod. Then Bruce diverted the conversation into planning for an engagement party. Alfred brought in an idea board with some color choices and a potential guest list. Damian and I sat, stupefied, as Bruce and Alfred chattered on about venues and flowers and food.

"Of course, I'm sure that Alex's parents will have some ideas too," Bruce said pensively. "Go on now and tell them so that I can give them a call and get this thing done."

Still stunned, it wasn't until we were on the road that we spoke. "I can't believe it," my fiance said finally.

"We need to rein them in or they'll take complete control of the wedding," I cautioned, and Damian nodded.

"If my dad starts talking about wedding favors, I might just freak out." I had a flash of Batman wrapping Jordan almonds in tulle and my eyes crossed.

The drive to my parents was otherwise uneventful and we were lucky to find them both at the coffeehouse. After surprised and pleased greetings from the parents, we fielded questions about the trip and I gave them some things I'd picked up for them. Then, just when they were relaxed and unsuspecting, I hit them with the news. My mom shrieked and hugged me and my dad cried. He got it down to snuffles fairly quickly, and gave first Damian, then me hugs and welcomed Damian into the family. My mom patted Damian's hand, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and got up to bring celebratory cupcakes over. It really meant a lot to her that we'd stopped to tell grandma. We showed the photos, which they cooed over. When she asked about the wedding plans, Damian shook his head and squeezed her hand. "We need help. My dad and Alfred are planning an engagement party and I don't know how to rein him in."

My dad laughed. "How bad can it be?" Damian and I exchanged dark looks. "Well, I'll give him a call when I get back to the shop." I relaxed. My dad is a rock.

By the time we got back to the city, my dad had gone over to the dark side and wanted us to select our favorite photo from Budapest. They were thinking about using peach and a light green for the party. Damian pulled up the handbrake and shook his head. When he came around to open my door, I said to him, "You were right. We should have eloped."

We found Bucky and Emma in his office and followed procedure: gifts first, then the news. Emma was excited and immediately called my mom. Bucky was more quietly pleased and gave me one of his Flannel Special hugs, followed by a hug for Damian, and we showed the pictures. Uncle Bucky chose one and asked for a print for his desk. Then Tony came in, saving me a stop, heard the news, and congratulated us over cookies. He laughed over his souvenir, a bobble head in traditional Hungarian dress, and after more conversation, we went home. I took a chance and tried to Skype J; luck was with me and he accepted. He seemed really pleased with the news and Damian emailed him the pictures when he asked. As we spoke, both Damian and I got texts from Bruce, telling us to reserve the third Saturday in December for the engagement party, so that J could be there too. J looked bemused.

"But isn't that awfully close to Christmas? I appreciate him thinking of me, but that might not be good timing."

"Not many people will turn down an invitation from Bruce Wayne," Damian said factually. Then he cheered up. "But it also means that people won't be inclined to linger too long." We gave each other fist bumps and J laughed.

We took the rest of the afternoon off to snuggle together with the pets (the cats hadn't forgiven us for leaving but were willing to suspend hostilities) and relax after all the notification, but Damian did take a moment to call one of his lawyers and instruct that they should start drafting a prenup.

"I don't like this, Sweet pea," he said, nuzzling my hair. "What's mine is yours."

"It's not about us being married, it's about what should happen if something horrible happens. Everybody keeps acting like I'm the one who'd run away, but what if I did something unforgivable? You need to protect yourself, my darling."

"I can't imagine what you could do that would be unforgivable," he said in a puzzled tone.

"Well, I don't know either, but there's a dark place inside me, Damian. You'll never know just how close I was to splattering the Joker's brains all over the concrete. Or snapping his neck. Or stabbing him with his own knife. And I wouldn't even have to kill to make a mess out of your life. I'm sure there are ways that I could make you wish you'd never met me."

"Petal, I wouldn't have lost sleep if you had killed that fucker. I would have lost sleep worrying about how you were coping with it," he said, nuzzling me. "But I can see that this matters a lot to you, so we'll go ahead, get it done, and forget about it." He kissed me. "Mmm. We're getting married. I can't wait to see you in a dress you choose just for us. We need to set a date soon." More kisses. "We need to check the train schedule. How long do you think it would take to plan this shindig?"

I nipped his luscious lower lip. "Too long. We should have eloped." I slid my hand down his chest.

"Ahem." We started violently. Alfred was standing in the door with a tray holding a coffeepot and teapot. "I apologize for startling you, Miss Alex, Master Damian. I thought you might like refreshment after delivering the news." He came forward and placed the tray on the table, pouring efficiently, doctoring my coffee the way I liked.

"Ooh, cookies!" I said, and Alfred smiled, handed us our cups, and faded away discreetly.

"We should get Dad and Alfred to plan the wedding," Damian said. "They'd be so efficient we could get it done in no time."

"If they ever get bored of running an empire and butlering for the empire, they could be the world's most effective wedding planners," I said, attacking the cookie plate. I thought I heard a faint chuckle. Damian was looking at his phone.

"Ok, Sweet pea, they only go to Istanbul once a year, at the end of August, so we need to plan accordingly. It goes from Paris to Istanbul, with stops in Budapest and Bucharest." I smiled brightly. "I thought you might like that," he said fondly. "But it's only six days, so we'll have to figure out some place to go besides that." He shuffled around the website. "Hey, we'll have to get a cabin suite, with that we get a choice of bed configurations." He grinned at me wickedly. "I'm going to go ahead and make the reservations. He tapped at the phone madly for a couple of minutes, then held it aloft in triumph. "Success!" Then we cuddled up again to see more details about the itinerary and the train.

"Wow," I breathed. "I can hardly believe it. Thank you, Damian!" I put my arms around him and kissed him enthusiastically. That kiss evolved into several more and I was enjoying myself immensely when Bruce came in.

"Canoodle later, kids, you've got a wedding to plan," he said briskly, dropping his briefcase on the desk before fishing out a couple of binders. "I went on Pinterest for some ideas," he continued, handing us each a binder. A big, thick binder. Inside were printouts of checklists and timelines for the bride and groom. I stared at it, stunned again. "When do you want your wedding?"

"Ah...end of August," Damian said faintly.

"Are you sure? It doesn't give much time for planning," his dad fretted. "Plus it will be hot and sticky. Now, I called the St. Regis today...." Bruce rattled on. He'd done a lot more wedding planning than we had. When we confessed that all we'd done was come up with a time frame and most of the honeymoon, Bruce shook his head. "You'll have to do better than that, kids. Lots to do!" He'd sent the engagement announcement to the papers and ordered the invitations for the engagement party. "Your father, Alex, so helpful," he commented. And he went on. I was dazed by all the directives. It was the first time I'd seen Bruce Wayne in full force and it was intimidating. I found myself writing down his instructions for what he wanted us to accomplish in the next few days. Damian had to go back to work the next day, so I'd start researching. Then I had an idea. Aslyn was getting married in June. I could probably share information with her and cut down on the workload.

We went to lunch the next day. She shrieked to see my ring and we did the hoppy-huggy-squealing thing before being seated. I asked how she was doing on her wedding and she asked me to go dress shopping with her in two weeks. "You can also get some ideas for your dress," she said, beaming. This was one of the reasons I loved my friend; a lot of women wouldn't want to share their time in the spotlight, but she was just happy for me.

"Bruce has turned into... I don't even know what. Major General Wedding Planner? Commander in Chief? Worse yet, he's drawn my dad into his influence. He gave us binders last night," and I proceeded to tell her about the whole thing. She roared with laughter, then wanted to hear about my trip and the proposal, and I showed her the pictures, and just remembered to give her her gift, a pretty, dainty necklace I'd found in Prague.

At the end of the meal, we set up a date for drinks with our respective fiances and an afternoon over the weekend to chat and compare notes and she promised to send me some information about bakeries and florists. Then I scuttled home. One of my tasks was to arrange a day to find a wedding dress. I shook my head. Bruce was being optimistic there.

When he and Damian got home that night, Bruce handed me a thick stack of bridal magazines before I had time to do anything besides kiss Damian hello. My fiance (!) looked a little frazzled. "We got the St. Regis for the weekend before our reservations for the train," he told me, "so we've got a little space to fill in for the honeymoon. They'll also do the catering and will work on menus for us, so that's something to tick off the list." He shot a look of triumph at his father, who beamed paternally.

"If you work hard now, you'll be less stressed later," he commented.

After dinner, Damian and I slunk off upstairs. We took our binders so it would look like we were doing work, but I don't think we fooled anyone. But Damian had a surprise for me; somehow he'd snuck off to a paint store during the day and come home with paint chips so we could play around and maybe decide on our wedding colors. We ended up torn between sage, light gold, and a creamy white and merlot red, peach, and sage. The first was more elegant, the second more lively. After some debate and a little canoodling, we went with the second. We trooped downstairs to report our progress, and Bruce was delighted, muttering about making changes to the green of the engagement parties. We ghosted upstairs before we got more homework. I was due back at work the next day and the prospect seldom seemed so inviting.