Faye Feng → Dick Grayson ✔

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"Bruce, you'll never guess what I did!"

Dick's voice echoed as he noisily climbed the stairs down into the Batcave, words bouncing off the rough grey walls.

"You gave her your number."

Dick blew a raspberry. "Wow, way to burst my bubble."

"That's what you get for having the world's greatest detective as a mentor."

Mentor. Not father.

Dick batted the thought away and continued towards the supercomputer, never breaking stride. Bruce was sitting there, still in his white work-shirt, blazer slung over the large armchair. The blue light from the numerous screens that stretched halfway up the stone wall illuminated the cave, each one showing a different part of Gotham city, from the brightest avenues of Gotham square to the dark alleyways of the Narrows.

"Anything new?"

"Attempted theft. Commissioner Gordon made a few arrests near Gotham Bay."

"Gotham Bay?" Dick frowned. "There's nothing there."

"Yes, there is," Bruce tossed him the paper from that morning. "You stopped reading the second you saw the photo of Faye."

"I did not," Dick muttered half-heartedly, knowing that it wouldn't fool Bruce. He scanned the paragraph below the photo he had been enamored by at breakfast and read aloud: "'Sandra Feng has decided to make her first show of wealth the soliciting of Gotham Bay' – she bought Gotham Bay?"

Bruce grunted. "Affirmative."

Dick shook his head in disbelief and kept reading. "'As her new address, the details of which were finally released the day of their arrival in the city. The final touches to the Feng Mansion will be completed once the young heiress returns from her first day at Gotham Academy, approximately at four in the afternoon.' Why couldn't you have built a house by the sea?"

Bruce ignored the comment. "What did you learn from Faye?"

"She likes English, running, and can play a mean game of basketball."

Bruce's fingers faltered for a second, a pause in the quick typing of the blue holo-keyboard. "She's athletic?"

"Yeah, I was just as surprised as you are. She could beat Marie Harding in a hundred-meter sprint."

"That's interesting," Bruce mused. "Abnormally fast with good hand-eye coordination. I expected her to be average at best. Did she say if she trained regularly?"

"Not specifically, but she does go to the gym."

"Anything else?"

"She's funny."

At that, Bruce's fingers froze completely. "What?"

"Way to be sexist, Bruce – women can be funny too, you know."

"That's not what I meant." Bruce turned to stare at Dick. "Is she funny when she's around you or in general?"

"Um, I think in general, but she didn't really talk to anyone else except for me. She pissed off Barbara, who's got a bad feeling about her." Dick rolled his eyes. "Personally, I think Faye's alright."

He watched as Bruce frowned. "What? Why are you so surprised?"

"I thought she'd be a carbon-copy of her mother. Apparently not. Perhaps Jason has some influence on his daughter's upbringing after all."

"Why would he not? He's the father."

"Look at these that I pulled from some Chinese magazine columns," a website appeared on the center monitor. Dozens of photos appeared, all depicting a woman, a man and a small girl. Even a decade ago, Sandra Feng was just as regal. Dick noted Jason's signature blinding smile, and there was no mistaking the devilish spark in Faye's eyes. "What do you notice?"