They could debate the matter as much as they wanted, but Bruce had always known one thing: no one would be afraid of Bruce Wayne, no matter how skilled he was. You might fear men who were killers, or who had enormous amounts of power, but a billionaire do-gooder scared no one. A demon - a nightmare, something half-seen in the shadows; the bat itself might not be particularly frightening, but the mystique surrounding him was terrifying. He had learned that easily in his first years; people feared what they didn't understand.
Getting into the car he said, "I do," as if that logic were incontrovertible. Fortunately, he was tall enough to reach the pedals. As they took off down the stone corridor for Gotham City, Robin grunted, adding, "...you can drive back."
Driving calmed him; with all the annoyances of the past few days, it was something to lift his spirits, being behind the wheel. By the time they arrived in the city, he was feeling a bit better, and looking forward to a good night out, even if he had to do it as Robin.
Damian had never patrolled with him as Robin, but Bruce had no doubt that his son knew most, if not all of his habits well enough. The rest he would easily learn. "I alternate the circuits every two weeks," he said. "So no one gets used to my patterns. Why don't you set this one; just make sure you hit every area; we'll try to do three laps before dawn."