
Sigh… another boring night in Gotham.
A woman screamed from a nearby alley.
Startled, Robin changed direction immediately. Peering down from above, he saw a cowled figure pointing what looked to be some sort of weapon at a kneeling woman. Dropping down at high velocity, he swung into the man and sent him sprawling into the wall.
As the unconscious perp fell, Robin was over to the victim offering support. “Wait,” he said, confused but still recognising Alfred’s niece, “Hermione Granger?”
"I really, really hate to do this,” muttered Hermione, grabbing her wand. “Obliviate!”
~ + ~
Sigh… another boring night in Gotham.
~ + ~
Talia lay on the concrete floor, feeling the blood seeping from the bullet wound in her side. From far away, she could hear Him punishing those who had shot her.
And then He was beside her, carefully tending to her, applying a compress to the wound, cutting away the clothing. His hands moved over her again, as they had so long ago that once, and she allowed herself to remember.
He paused. “Are these… stretch marks? Did you…give birth?”
Of course The Detective would notice. Their son… She could not, would not do that to Him.
“No, Beloved,” she lied.