This story begun as a drabble and it turned into something much, much longer. Non chronological order. Mature to be safe, for suggestive themes and very little (almost nonexistent) violence.

Pre-reboot.

*Quotes taken from "Casablanca"

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters


It's in these moments

If anyone had asked Stephanie what she thought about Jason Todd, she would have replied with the following.

"Oh, he's just like any other man, only more so."*


"To the docks Batgirl. Now!" Oracle bellowed on her com and Batgirl leaped from rooftops, the grappling hook lodging on concrete edges with a force.

Batgirl landed next to Batman as he watched the blazing fires engulf the warehouse.

"A call has been made, firefighters will arrive shortly." He informed her. A curt nod came from her and Batman continued. "The Red Hood was caught in the explosion, status currently unknown. The smugglers split into two groups, you follow them no… Are you listening Batgirl?" Dick asked when he saw her expression, full of shock, her eyes wide and glassy, almost on the verge of tears. Her hands were trembling.

"Batgirl?" he asked and not a moment later Stephanie leaped from the edge of the roof, running towards the fires. Batman was able to catch her by the waist as he landed them softly on the ground. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snarled.

Stephanie remained silent, fighting to free herself, but to no avail. Eventually she gave up, her body going numb; her face resembling too much of a ghost.

"O, send someone else. North. I'll follow the ones went west." He paused. "You go home."

She complied.


Stephanie's hands are buried in Jason's hair, black and sleek and sticking out wild between her fingers. He is kissing and licking and biting her exposed neck as his hands find their way under her shirt, holding her flush against him. She lets out a moan as he bites a sensitive spot close to her ear.


"I could handle them on my own!" Stephanie snarled at the Red Hood.

"Of course you could." She was certain there was a smirk behind that helmet. "I wanted you to be done with them quicker. We can now go on a date." It was the way he said 'date' that probably meant nothing like an actual date, the kind normal people have.

She gave a sigh. "You need to stop stalking me! As if there aren't enough creeps already." She added more to herself than him. "Leave me alone. Go. Shoo!" she raised her hands, gesturing him away.

He laughed, loud and amused, the edges of his helmet gleaming in the faint night lights. "I am not a dog… Unless you want me to be." He added, a suggestive leer all the more evident in his voice.

Stephanie resisted the urge to face-palm, Stay professional, Brown! and instead she launched her hook to get away, as far as possible, from him.


"Jason. Jason. Jason!" It is always his name that she screams when she comes, always his name.


It was like all college bars, casual, with loud sort-of-rock music and easy for those under twenty one, yet over eighteen, to get alcohol. And this was how Stephanie, age nineteen and a half, was enjoying a pint of nice cool beer, and was rather tipsy.

"Are you old enough to drink?" The young man asked, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

Stephanie, who wasn't paying much attention to her groups' musings, checked out the stranger. He was incredibly handsome, he was also tall and well built beneath the brown leather jacket he wore (that she had seen somewhere before) with hair as black as the night and eyes a deep blue. Stephanie smiled appreciatively. As for his voice, it sounded oddly familiar.

"I am quite legal…" she added, leaning closer to him and flirting blatantly with the stranger. She gave him the smile, the one that all boys fell for.

He leaned closer, speaking directly to her ear words only she was meant to hear. "Oh, I know how legal you are kid. But you aren't 21 yet." He smirked as the gears in Stephanie's mind begun to work and the voice suddenly clicked.

"Yo-you!" she stammered, taking a step back; more than half the contents of her glass spilled on her hand. "What do you want here?" she demanded channeling her inner Babs and whishing she could intimidate him, if only a little.

A smile, a laugh, a sigh, all three came from him. "To have a drink. Care to join me?" he raised his hand in invitation.

"No." she answered too fast, and mentally slapped herself for sounding almost scared.

"You were flirting with me, like what? 15 seconds ago." He smirked again and it irked her immensely. "Have a drink with me. What's the worst that could happen?" The frown she shot at him had a clear say in the matter.

He smiled then, not a smirk but an actual smile, and Stephanie mused how this was all kinds of wrong. And yet Tim was all kinds of right, and how wonderful that had turned out. She leaned back and ordered another pint.


Whatever it is they have is not a relationship, but to her, it is so much more than just a carnal affair. She doesn't know what to call it.

From time to time Stephanie wonders if Jason sleeps with anyone else besides her. She never asks though. She doesn't want to know the answer.

Other times she wonders if he thinks of her when they are apart. Because, when he is with her, she has his full attention, as if nothing else really matters but her. She never asks. She can't decide which answer she fears most.


"You again?" she greeted and her lips, swollen, with blood dripping, curled upwards. "Are you supposed to be the cavalry?"

"Nope." He answered. "Not your knight in anything shiny either." He lifted her to her feet.

"Your helmet is quite shiny." She would have beamed at him, if her lower lip wasn't throbbing as much as it did. She heard a chuckle coming from him as he steadied her to his side. Stephanie welcomed his warmth and almost let a sigh slip when he let her go.

"Didn't anyone warn you not to come here?" he scolded, much like a parent would.

"They did. Didn't listen." She shrugged, she smiled; refusing to let him know how there was a certain spot on her right shoulder that hurt like a bitch.

It wasn't her fault, really it wasn't when earlier that night she stumbled upon some small time drug dealer who fancied himself a crime boss and was distributing meth to high school parties, no one was available for back-up and they all told her to wait, perhaps for the problem to be dealt another day. But Stephanie wasn't going to let him continue his little business just because he had a rather vicious and large number of well trained men to stop her.

"How you wanna play this out?" She asked.

"Beat them to a pulp. Then someone's checking that shoulder of yours."

"Fine by me." This time she managed to somehow give him a teeth exposing grin, though a bit lop sided, just before he started to pull of his gun and shoot a man in the abdomen.

"No killing!" she screamed at him over the noise his guns made.

"Don't worry kid. I'm not aiming at anything major." Mostly.

After that they stopped talking and they simply fought. They weren't synchronized, not the way Robin fought alongside Batman. They bumped a few times, but they found their rhythm eventually. And when they did they fought their way out in their own unique way. It was a job well done.


Stephanie loves Jason's voice; deep, very distinctively male and always laced with mischief. She loves how he makes her laugh with his never subtle remarks. She loves his devil-may-care attitude. Stephanie loves the way he touches her, the way he kisses her, the way he fucks her. But she refuses to love him entirely. She knows what it entails.

As for Jason, he loves the way his Batgirl fights. She is neither calculative nor precise but she is efficient. There is no plan in her attacks; wild, strong, unpredictable. She makes some mistakes along the way but she always makes up for them as she sort of goes with the flow of things, in the end her punches and kicks are more than just effective. He notices how the way she fights is the way she lives her life, with the same chaotic rowdy impulsiveness that surrounds her in every second of her life; Jason prefers this Batgirl out of any other.


"I'll see you later Batgirl." The Red Hood whispered in her ear, his voice muffled by the helmet he wore. His fingers were tracing lines below her hip bone. Her fingers were resting above his wrist, a small, insignificant, almost unconscious gesture. He left and rode off on his motorcycle as Stephanie stood alone in the dark alley.

Just as Jason sped off, Robin landed next to her with a dull thump on the dirty pavement.

"What the hell did he want?" Damian more demanded than asked.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." She answered as a blush crept to her cheeks. However the look she gave at the direction of the now gone motorcycle didn't go unnoticed by Damian.

Damian waited patiently for patrol to end until he was able to confront her. "Are you going to tell me what is really happening with Todd?"

"Nothing is happening Damian. Just drop it." Stephanie said to him, but refused to meet the boy's eyes.

"Something is happening. And I will find out." He yelled at her retreating form. It was not a threat. Damian thought of her as not a friend exactly, he thought no one as friend, but as someone he tolerated, and Damian didn't tolerate most people. He trusted her.

Later that night, he did found out. 'I know you're fucking Todd. Break it off and won't tell anyone'. He deleted the message, but after that he spoke to her less and less.


The first few times he knocked on the glass of her window and waited for her to let him in. Now he just enters, and if she is asleep he wakes her up. He is always gentle though. He simply rocks her and whispers her name until her eyes flutter open and she smiles at him in the darkness.

Jason always leaves just before dawn. He is careful not to wake her. He never kisses her goodbye. He dresses quickly and silently. However, he always ends up above her and his hand hovers over her head, as if he is contemplating something, remaining still for only a few moments. Eventfully he just brushes a few golden strands away from her forehead with his fingers and then he leaves through the window.


Batgirl was following a lead about a nasty serial rapist; a monster of a man with a very cringing M.O. She found his favorite place, an abandoned two story building close to a public gym, where he liked to bring his victims after he drugged them. Stephanie was perched on the roof of a near-by building, waiting for any sort of sign to barge in and pound him into oblivion. It came in the form of a fat man running out of the building.

She leaped and landed before him, and the man struggled to his feet. He was the man from the picture. Bingo. A malicious grin found its way onto her lips as the man made a run for it. She gave a snicker. They never learn.

As she caught him, he proved to be quite strong; he was no match for her though as she begun beating him with excess enthusiasm.

"He is mine Blondie!" a voice half yelled at her and she abruptly stopped. The man made a foolish attempt to grab her leg and Batgirl crashed his fingers with the heel of her boot with an audible crunch.

"Red Hood." She all but spat the name. Something stirred in her gut. This man was probably insane, definitely a killer. Her stance was defensive.

"It's not you I want Goldilocks. It's that scum over there I'm after. Now be a doll and hand him over." He gestured the bloody man on the ground with his gun, a metallic glint escaping with the movement.

"He's fair game. I've been in the hunt for this creep for a month. And I am not a doll!" she snarled. The Red Hood had the audacity to laugh.

"Sure you're a doll." He said. "You have pretty eyes." Sarcasm was quite evident in his voice.

"I am not handing him over so you can kill him. The cops are on their way. I'm handing him over to them." She huffed and crossed over her arms, as if that could stop the Red Hood.

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy beating him." He said, implying how she was not so high above him. "Now…" he paused menacingly. "You're testing my patience. Not a smart move Batgirl."

"No!" she said firmly. "He will be brought before justice. Not die at the hands of a psycho like you!" that last part Stephanie did regret. She was more than certain that she had crossed over a line, scratch that she went miles after said line. Impending doom, here I come…

She expected him to shoot her not give a boisterous loud laugh.

"A batgirl with spunk, I like it. You know, you're cute when you're angry." he earned a growl for his last comment. He lowered his gun. "Tell you what. I'm not killing him today. But!" he raised a finger. "He ever does his little stint again…" his last words hanged in mid air as he drew a line with the raised finger across his neck. The man only whimpered.

Sirens begun to wail as the cops were drawing near them. He raised his head in her direction. "Here's looking at you kid!"* he said and saluted her, his index and middle finger waving in loops at her dramatically. Stephanie was willing to bet anything that he was grinning beneath that red helmet.

Stephanie then laughed; she was yelling at him as he was reaching for his motorcycle. "Didn't have you for a Casablanca fan!"

"There's much you don't know about me…" he paused as if thinking something of great importance, "kid!" he hoped on his motorcycle and sped off.


Stephanie is now an expert in spotting him. Her eyes instinctively find the reddish glint from his helmet. Even when he wishes to remain hidden she always finds him.

But when his helmet is off she gets confused about his hair. Most of the times they are a deep black; sometimes there are a few white locks on the front; and sometimes they glow red in the faint lights. When she closes her eyes though, they are always soft under her touch.

Jason has developed a habit of watching his Batgirl fight. He knows that she knows where he is, but he rarely comes out. It is almost mesmerizing to gaze upon that fluff of yellow hair dance with her as she jumps and ducks and moves. He muses how they could be a hindrance in a fight, but he prefers them free anyway.

When he comes, he has this peculiar tendency of tagging and winding his hands amidst her locks, he doesn't know why, he simply does it instinctively.


Stephanie's shoulder hurt. It wasn't throbbing anymore, since it had developed into a constant reaping pain. She touched her shoulder with her other hand and a moan of pain came afterwards.

"Have to drop you off at a hospital kid. That shoulder's dislocated." He held her by the waist as they walked, supporting her with his weight.

"No!" she rasped. "No hospitals." Her mother would know if she ended up in any hospital within Gotham. She said nothing more, but she shot a look at him, and defeated she slid on the floor.

He gave a sigh, as he understood clearly what she meant. "I'm no doctor kid."

"I know you can do it." She tried to smile, but failed miserably.

Jason kneeled behind her. "This is gonna hurt like a mother fucker." He warned her all the while softly removing her cape. His hands lightly examined her shoulder as she bit silent another pained moan. He didn't say anything after that. He just placed one hand on her shoulder and another on her arm. He waited a few seconds and she braced herself for the pain that was sure to come. He never spoke of soothing words, he gave no warning; he just pushed with both hands until everything was in place with a loud pop.

The scream she didn't want to release left her mouth instantly, loud and wrenching. She fell limp in his arms all the while muttering a faint "Thanks".

After that she didn't remember much. She doesn't know exactly how she got to her room slumped on her bed (she doesn't recall giving him her address). She does remember a low male voice though.

"Sleep it off kid."


Stephanie rationalizes Jason, because just accepting the madness within is not an option for her. Beneath his easy going mannerisms and the jokes he is angry, deep inside he is terribly angry, but who wouldn't be with that hellish torrent of a life? He gets some leeway from her for all the things he has done, mostly she thinks about all the things he didn't do when he could, and perhaps he isn't as insane as they say. She really does feel for him, she thinks she understands at least a part of him. And yet, in the end of it all, his hands are still painted red with blood.

Jason knows all the drama clichés that Stephanie has been through when she was younger; he knows all the other things as well and he is downright baffled as how put together she is (or at least seems to be). She should scream a "Fuck you!" to the world and just be as angry and as bitter as he is. And yet she is trying to save the world and play with their rules. This angers him more than it should and his thoughts take a darker turn. He wonders what would make her snap, what it would take to break her and his mind creates scenarios, dark, twisted scenarios just for her. But then her smile is just damnably bright (and it is directed at him) and what would he gain from doing so?


Stephanie had taken a long shower trying to rid all thoughts from her head but to no avail. The thought that Jason might be dead still hadn't rooted inside her, she still clung into a tiny fraction of hope that Jason had escaped, but the feeling of dread was there. He had already done it once, why the heck not a second time. Perhaps that was the reason that she hadn't cried yet (though she had to admit crying came less often than it used to). Every movement she made, she felt it was beyond her, there was no thought in her actions just movements of a semi-conscious routine. The shower she took, getting dressed, drying her hair.

"Dammit Jason." She trailed as she rubbed her nose, right between her eyes.

"What did I do now?" Jason sounded thoroughly irritated. A moment later he was thoroughly surprised as Stephanie had attached herself on him, hugging with a force that was a bid of an excess by Jason's opinion.

"You're…" she choked and finally tears came, but not of sadness. "You're alive! I… I thought I lost you." She buried her face into his chest as Jason removed his brown leather jacket.

"Alive and kickin' kid. You're not getting rid of me that easily." As he said that, he started to walk towards the bed, taking Stephanie with him. He sat them on the bed and pulled her on top of him, then he starting kissing her hungrily. His hands were instantly tugging at her top as he started to undress her.

"Jason wait." Stephanie said and pushed him lightly with her hands. He reluctantly complied.

"Come on Steph." He protested and leaned in to kiss her again, but she leaned backwards effectively avoiding him.

"Until a few minutes ago, I thought you were dead." A sigh was released from her lips and she hugged him yet again. He was engulfed by the smell of soap, a smell he had always liked on her.

"Not gonna happen' kid." He spoke seriously for the first time that night. "I'm here, aren't I?" His hand was intertwined with her somewhat damp hair.

"I know." She paused. "Jason… Just let me hold you for a while." She added her voice barely above a whisper.

And Jason let Stephanie hold him until she fell asleep with him in her arms. Jason soon followed, his eyes closing despite his best efforts to stay awake. That was the first night that Jason spent in Stephanie's room doing nothing more except sleep. And when he woke, him and her, entangled together (almost two halves of a whole), it was well past the hours of the dawn.