Wayne Manor had hosted presidents.
Royal families.
Justice League meetings.
The occasional alien.
Yet somehow—
Damian’s girlfriend spending her first night there made the entire house behave strangely.
Dick had cleaned.
Voluntarily.
Jason had been threatened with bodily harm if he “accidentally” intimidated her.
Tim had actually gone to sleep before sunrise so he could appear like a functioning member of society.
Even Titus had received an extra brushing from Alfred.
It was unsettling.
Damian, naturally, blamed his father.
Bruce had transformed into an entirely different person.
He’d spent the morning asking Alfred if the guest room was comfortable enough.
Then he’d asked again.
Then he’d quietly added extra blankets.
Fresh flowers.
A basket of snacks.
Apparently, Batman planned for overnight guests with the same intensity he planned for alien invasions.
By the time the doorbell rang, the Manor looked less like the headquarters of Gotham’s vigilantes and more like an impossibly welcoming bed-and-breakfast.
Damian opened the front door before Alfred had the chance.
She stood on the steps with an overnight bag slung over one shoulder.
There was a flicker of uncertainty in her expression as she looked up at the sprawling estate.
It was one thing to date Damian.
It was another to step inside the place he’d always called home.
“This way,” Damian said simply.
He reached for her bag before she could protest.
Behind them, Alfred greeted her with the same warmth he offered every person Bruce considered family.
Bruce appeared from the study only moments later.
Not as Batman.
Not as Gotham’s billionaire.
Just as a father trying very hard not to make his son’s girlfriend feel overwhelmed.
Dick was somehow already in the foyer, smiling like he’d been waiting behind the wall for dramatic effect.
Jason wandered through with a bowl of cereal despite it being nowhere near breakfast.
Tim lifted a hand in greeting without looking up from the tablet he’d carried downstairs.
For a moment, the Manor felt less like a mansion and more like… a home.
Damian glanced toward her.
She was still taking everything in.
The portraits.
The impossibly tall ceilings.
The laughter echoing through the halls.
The family that somehow fit inside all of it.
He understood the feeling.
Years ago, he’d stood in this very foyer wondering if he’d ever belong here.
Now…
He found himself hoping she’d feel something entirely different.
Not intimidated.
Not like a guest.
But welcome.
Because if Wayne Manor had taught Damian anything—
it was that family wasn’t measured by how long you’d lived beneath its roof.
Only by whether the people inside made room for you.
And judging by the way everyone seemed determined to do exactly that…
Her first night at Wayne Manor was already beginning to feel like home.