"Ah, sorry, Bruce. You can sit here today instead."

Giulia's hand touched Bruce's as he went to pull out the chair from beneath the table on the patio. It was a glorious morning in August and the sun was almost too hot to bear even though it hadn't peaked, the air still and without a hint of a generous breeze and the ocean beneath the edge of the cliffs lapped gently against the shore and the rocks, harmony working between the sea and the sky.

Bruce furrowed his brows, confused by the comment when he'd sat in that exact chair since the day he'd first visited that house without ever being told he couldn't.

"Oh, sorry," he apologised anyway and reached for the chair Giulia gestured to, shuffling around to the head of the table where another place was set.

She shook her head, "It's OK. Today is Dante's birthday, did Carla tell you?"

Bruce sighed heavily in regret, shoulders sinking as he recalled the upsetting tradition that Carla had told him they did in honour of her brothers. Santino's birthday had been and gone over a weekend that he and Carla had been in Venice and so there had been no reminder for Bruce about their formalities, though the memory of Carla explaining everything as they'd sat overlooking the golf course in the grounds of Wayne Manor suddenly felt like it could've been yesterday.

"Of course," he said with a thin smile, "She didn't, but I remember now."

They both glanced over to the other side of the garden where Carla and Alfred were crouched down beside the flowerbeds, conversing as they perused through the bright colours and pretty petals, deciding which ones to pick to add to a growing bouquet in Alfred's hands.

"Dante would've liked you," Giulia said as she poured some coffee into cups around the table, "Sonny...not so much. But Dante, you would've been friends."

Bruce looked at her and watched her eyes curve with a timid smile. Sometimes he almost forgot that Giulia had lost so much too, not realising that although she wasn't their mother, she would've loved those two boys as if they were her own sons the same way she loved Carla like a daughter. Tragedy and loss ran deep through their family and even if blood didn't really connect them all in their veins, the love that they shared did.

"What was he like? And Sonny, what makes you think he wouldn't have liked me?"

They sat down together at the table, Bruce on the end and Giulia adjacent, both of them reaching for milk and sugar to add to their hot coffees.

"Dante would've found you interesting. He was outspoken and creative with a beautiful mind and a sense of humour that would make you cry with laughter. He would've wanted to get to know you, to understand you so he could respect you," Giulia explained, combing her hair through her fingers and securing it in place with a clip, "Sonny was the oldest, the most protective. He would've done anything to keep his brother and sister safe and he...well, he did. He saw a lot of things that a young boy never should and that changed him, the same way it changed Carla. Nobody would've ever been good enough for her in Sonny's eyes, but that's only because he didn't trust anybody to keep her safe the way that he knew he could."

Bruce nodded and sipped his coffee, "I get that. I would've liked to have met them both, I'm sure I could've convinced Sonny to like me eventually."

"Even a man as charming as you would've struggled to win over Santino Falcone," Giulia laughed quietly with a shake of her head before relaxing into her chair, "Although, Carla is almost identical to him and you managed to get her to fall in love with you. I still don't know how you did it."

"Neither do I," he let out a quiet laugh and settled into a smile as he watched Carla let Alfred tuck a rose into her hair, "What do you think she'd do to me if I tried to put a flower in her hair, hm?"

A smirk sprinkled amusement into Giulia's green eyes, "She'd probably snap the stem and scratch you with it."

He tilted his head in agreement, "I always wondered why she was so gentle with Alfred. Everybody else had to earn her trust, her friendship, but not him."

"He probably reminds her of her father."

"Of Carmine?" Bruce's brows lifted in disbelief.

Giulia nodded, "He wasn't always the Carmine that you know. Carla looked up to him, especially after her mother passed, she'd always be sitting by that gate waiting for him to walk through it. She was happiest when he was around. They used to grow sunflowers together and collect seashells on the beach, he'd sit and braid her hair and read to her outside under the stars. He was a father, and a good one for a long time but...you know that Gotham changes people. She probably sees a lot of the people she's lost in you and Alfred, that's why you're both so dear to her, and why their memory is, too."

Although it seemed to Bruce like he knew everything he could possibly know about Carla, it equally didn't shock him when another layer to her past became unveiled. Neither of them spoke much about their childhoods because neither of them wanted to, but the insight that hearing about it gave to Bruce became priceless.

He couldn't see into her mind the same way that she could see into his. Carla had perfectly depicted Bruce's life as a child from just one conversation they'd had, somehow able to analyse his feelings and emotions growing up as if she'd lived them herself. It was unnerving almost, to be cut open like that without ever thinking you'd shared all that much, but he never felt scared about the fact that she knew him for all that he was.

Carla didn't say anything when she and Alfred came over to the table, simply placing the colourful bouquet of flowers down on the seat that Giulia had made sure Bruce left empty. There was no conversation started on the small gesture and while Bruce held his breath in waiting for someone to acknowledge it, it was Carla who broke the silence herself.

"We've been invited out to dinner tonight," she said, looking briefly at Bruce before picking up a croissant from the middle of the table.

"We?"

"Mhm," she nodded and sliced it open, "Cisco has been seeing a girl and he wants us to meet her."

Enough time had passed for Bruce's innate jealousy to calm itself down when it came to Francisco and somehow, the two of them had formed some kind of an obscure friendship, bonding over cars and expensive clothes.

The feeling never went away entirely but Bruce noticed his jealousy rising whenever any man looked at Carla for a little too long or if left her alone at a bar for a few moments and returned to find her being offered a drink by a stranger. Carla was ethereal and he knew that, he loved her for that, and so he swallowed the bitter pill that forced him to accept that his eyes would never be the only ones on her. So long as hers were only ever on him, however, Bruce could sleep soundly at night.

"It's about time he met a nice girl," Giulia joined in the conversation, "What about Angelo? And is Carolina still dating the man from England?"

Carla nodded with a mouthful of food, washing it down with some orange juice as she stole a quick glance down at the flowers that sat beside her.

"Angelo is- can you hear that?" She cut herself off and frowned, eyes narrowed as if that would somehow help her hear better while the table fell silent.

"It sounds like a phone," Alfred said.

Bruce pulled his mobile out of his pocket, "Not mine."

"Excuse me," Carla pushed her chair out from the table and quickly walked inside to catch the call before it ended.

The three of them continued to eat their breakfast in a comfortable silence though Bruce felt a heavy weight on his chest every time he looked down at the flowers. Carla didn't seem particularly sad or upset but it was rare that she ever did, though that didn't mean that she didn't feel different behind a calm and collected exterior.

Bruce knew she would've been fractured on the inside and that seeing that seat remain empty at the table might've pulled her world apart, noticing the quick glances she gave to the flowers and how she fixed her posture at the table, purposefully presenting herself as just fine. He knew the truth by then and he knew her too, picking up on the small things that gave it all away and making him realise that perhaps he could see into her mind the same way that she could see into his.

"Bruce! Bruce come here!"

"Looks like I've been summoned," Bruce laughed and put down his coffee before standing up, "I'll be right back."

He strolled into the kitchen wondering what on Earth Carla could've possibly needed him for, brows knitted together when he saw her stood in front the window with her hands covering her face, her phone propped up against a vase sitting on the middle of the windowsill.

She spun around when she felt his presence, undoubtedly the biggest smile he'd ever seen her beautiful face hold looking right at him, eyes brimming with tears as she beckoned him over with a wave of her hand.

He walked over to her side and peered at the phone, confused when he saw nothing for a brief moment until somebody on the other end lifted their camera.

"Bruce, hey man," Harvey's face appeared on the screen, bags beneath his eyes but somehow the the blue hues shone as bright as they ever had, "There's someone here that wants to meet you."

He tilted the camera down to show a tiny infant lying on his chest, small fists covered in white mittens with a hat to match, ocean blue eyes looking straight at them from half the world away.

Bruce admittedly felt his heart swell at the sight of the baby, unable to dismiss just how adorable the whole scene was. That being said, it was Carla's reaction that melted him the most. He had never seen her show so much emotion, her eyes never holding so much happiness before. She grabbed hold of his wrist and smiled at him excitedly, searching for the same reaction from him that he willingly gave her, his heart unable to not beat faster whenever she touched him.

"Look at it," she said with a gentle laugh, "It's the cutest thing I've ever seen."

"It?" Harvey shouted from down the phone, "His name is Lucas."

"Lucas Dent," Bruce said with a grin, "What about the other one? Where is it? And how is Rachel?"

Harvey rolled his eyes as he rubbed circles across his son's back, turning his head away for a second, "Rach! You OK?"

A few seconds later, the angle widened and Rachel's smiling face joined the shot, a second baby fast asleep in her arms. The first thing that Carla noticed was just how happy Rachel looked. Much like herself, Rachel had never been overly friendly to anybody and she was used to seeing her without a smile, though in that moment with a grin reaching her eyes and her head resting on Harvey's shoulder, it was clear that Rachel was the happiest she'd ever been.

"I'm here, and I'm fine. Hello you two."

"Hey Rachel, congratulations. It's a shame that one looks like Harvey," Bruce mused with a smirk, pointing at the baby on Harvey's chest.

Rachel scoffed at her friend's playful nature, "They do have names you know, they're not just Thing 1 and Thing 2."

"I know, I know. I'm only messing," Bruce said, resting an arm across Carla's waist and tracing his fingers across her skin, pulling her into his side, "What's that one's name?"

Rachel looked down at the baby in her arms, that one with their eyes closed but a head full of dark hair. She smiled to herself and brushed a hand across her child's head, quickly falling into complete awe without even realising it.

"Charlotte."

"Charlotte," Carla repeated, hesitating to show on her face how her jump to a potentially ridiculous conclusion had stolen her breath.

"As in, Carlotta, but...not Italian," Harvey confirmed with a smile, watching as the realisation washed over his friend, rendering her speechless for a few long moments.

"You...why would you..."

Harvey frowned, as if the answer were obvious, "You did save my life, remember that? Multiple times, actually."

Bruce rolled his eyes, "Technically I-"

"Shut up," Carla glared at him, tying his lips shut instantly with her steel gaze before looking back at her phone, "Are you serious?"

"We're serious," Rachel answered, "We'd love for both of you to come and visit soon, if you're comfortable coming back here, of course."

"We understand if you can't though," Harvey jumped in, "I think it's- oh shit, she's crying. Alright, we've gotta go guys, later."

The FaceTime ended and Bruce looked down at Carla with a raised brow, loosening his grip on her as she pulled herself out of his grasp and reached for the vase behind her phone, taking it over to the sink and filling it up with water.

"Are you alright? You look very...happy," Bruce's tone was laced with scepticism.

Carla looked at him blankly, "Would you rather I frown?"

"No, not at all," he shook his head quickly, "I just didn't expect babies to make you so overjoyed. I thought you didn't like kids. Plus I thought today of all days you might be a little...sad."

Carla put down the vase and leant against the kitchen counter with her hands wrapped around the ledge. She was in nothing more than a baby blue bikini with a white knitted dress thrown over the top, her hair in waves from sleeping in a French plait and the red flower that Alfred had decorated her with making her dark eyes seem lighter.

"Grief doesn't come once a year, it's there all the time. Today is just the day I pick flowers."

Bruce chewed on his lip in thought before nodding, knowing all too well that she was absolutely right. He sighed and looked her up and down, seeing the remnants of her bursting smile now residing in just a shimmer across her eyes, her lips no longer curved or cheeks beaming with a golden glow.

"Those little...things, they were very cute," Bruce shrugged with pursed lips.

"Yes," Carla straightened her spine and looked him up and down, "They were."

He looked at her then like he knew something she didn't, like he'd seen something that hadn't passed her eyes. It was like he was toying with her almost, a slight smirk tugging on his lips as he stood before her in a pair of navy swim shorts and a plain white t-shirt, hair slicked back and arms folded, veins running across his arms and through his hands.

He was still so obnoxiously attractive, especially when he looked at her the way he did in that moment. His eyes were dark and mischievous but instead of the desire that they'd once held when he had to battle to keep her attention, they held love instead.

Bruce was unable to shake Carla's smile from the front of his mind, finding it impossible to think of a time she'd ever looked so happy in her life. It wasn't fuelled by relief or humour, a compliment or a glass of champagne, it had come from her heart and her heart alone, and Bruce knew that what he'd had the pleasure of witnessing with his own eyes was something pure from the woman he loved.

"You've changed your mind, haven't you?" He eventually said, putting Carla out of her misery after tormenting her with his gaze.

"What?" She pulled a sour face and turned up her nose, "No."

Bruce just grinned and took a step closer to her, head tilted and one brow raised while that same smirk stayed etched onto his lips, "Yes you have. You saw how cute those little babies were and now you want one of mine."

He too had never really spent too much time thinking about what it would be like to become a parent, drawing to the conclusion that the world he lived in was not one he'd want his child to be born into. Bruce had held that decision for as long as he could remember and whether they'd reached that same conclusion without having to say a single word out loud or not, he knew that Carla was on the same page.

At least he thought that she was, anyway. The sparkle in her eyes had told him differently and although she now stood before him with a face as cold and emotionless as he'd ever seen her, Bruce remembered. Yet the thing that shocked him the most was that he didn't feel terrified to think that she'd changed her mind. In fact, the idea of it opened up another chamber of his heart entirely, offering up another version of his life that he never thought he'd get to live.

"That is not true."

"It's not?" Bruce teased, hands falling to her waist as he looked down at her.

"No, it's not," she said sternly, blinking just once as her eyes traced his face, "But you know what we have to do now, don't you?"

Bruce's eyes flashed with excitement and his fingers began to pull up the sides of her dress, his lips falling to her cheek and trailing across her jaw.

"If you want me to give you a child, angel, then yes, I do know."

Carla huffed and pushed Bruce away from her neck, her hands remaining on his chest and eventually rising up to his shoulders, fingertips stroking mindlessly across them as she examined the way the playfulness faded from his eyes.

The imminent words were heavy and balanced on the tip of her tongue yet had an anchor that ran to the soles of her feet. She almost didn't want to say it out loud, not after everything that had led them to stand exactly where they stood right then, but as long as she felt Bruce's hands on her body and and could see his eyes looking into her own, Carla no longer felt afraid.

"We have to go back to Gotham."