A brisk breeze kicked up leaves in a sea of orange, yellow, and brown. The trees lining the farm glowed with warm colors under the sunlight. The little farm was popular among Gothamites, giving them a small piece of nature just outside the smog of the city. A sputtering pickup truck carried a load of visitors on benches made of hay and spiced cider lingered on the air from the concession stand near the photobooth. But what really made Tim take Vixen to the farm was the sea of pumpkins just begging to be carved.

"It has to fit in the car," Tim reminded them, already squatting beside a stubby gourd. He gave it a pat, listening to the hallow sound. "Alfred's better at picking these things out. He'll probably hold a grudge if we don't pick an organic one."

Pumpkin carving always led to fresh baked pies in the manor and wholesome, if not chaotic, fights over whipped cream. Visiting a farm wasn't a typical outing for Tim, but he wanted to do something fun to do with Vixen that didn't involve video games. He stood, surveying the pumpkin patch like it was a crime scene rather than a photo op for families. He nudged Vixen with his elbow and pointed to a rather lopsided one covered in pumps and green streaks. He flashed them a lopsided smirk.

"Remind you of anyone?"