The Magic of Uninvited Guests

Damian wasn't supposed to be back here.

The area was deemed off limits to all but staff. A sign didn't mean terribly much to an eight year old who was of the opinion his mission was too important to be waylaid by such things. And guards, meant to enforce the sign, had little chance against a ninja child they hadn't seen coming.

Sneaking into the magical star's dressing room had been easy. He'd hidden himself under a half-curtained vanity, and watched in silence as people bustled in and out of the room. The spot he'd picked was a good one. No one disturbed his hiding spot, not even the star herself, as he waited for the show to be over.

For any other child the waiting probably would have been agony. There was plenty to worry about. He'd left Mar'i hidden outside, making her promise that she would wait quietly, but he knew she had that Grayson recklessness that was difficult to control. This had been her idea, though. At least partly. She'd been the one to recognize the name on the posters. She'd been the one to wonder aloud if the woman could help.

The last Wayne had simply taken matters into his own hands.

He knew that there was nothing he could do at present about anything stupid Mar'i might be doing. So his training took over and the child fell into a silent meditation for hours cramped underneath a vanity. A sudden burst of energy and then a quietness seemed to signal that it was the end of the show. Flowers, more than the attendant could carry, were brought into the dressing room he'd been hiding in.

The flowers were probably from fans. Damian ignored the overwhelming floral smell, and the thoughts of how much Mar'i would like them, as he waited patiently to catch the magician alone. In the span of eternity, that was probably no more than an hour, Damian got his wish. The woman was left alone to unwind from her show. Only to be accosted by a very tiny ninja.

Damian slipped silently out from under the vanity and rose to his feet behind her. "Zatanna Zatara," he said, to catch her attention, his expression far too serious for a child his age. Especially not one that was, presumably, enough of a fan to hide in her dressing room and talk to her alone. "I require your assistance."