Just a short story about John and my character, Carrie. Let me know what you think!

"John! No, s-stop! John stop, John! Seriously! Get off!"

Her smirked from above her, but didn't slow his hands from roaming her sides. Carrie was squirming underneath him, not able to move because of his knees on either side of her hips. He was 27 years old, and he was tickling her for Christ's sake.

Laughing he asked, "Are you done criticizing me?"

"Yes-yes!"

John stopped and bent down to kiss her forehead, feeling her labored breath hot on his neck. He pulled her up with him as they sat on the couch. Reaching over to grab her abandoned take-out carton, she said, "That was mean."

He grabbed his own, "I was a police officer, I wasn't trained to be nice."

"Even to the person that you come home to?"

"Hey, you could be some hidden criminal, just waiting for your chance to kidnap and torture me," he said before taking a bite of orange chicken.

Carrie lifted a corner of her mouth and tried her best to look seductive, "Would you like me to? I'll do it."

"I'd put up a fight."

"I think I could handle it."

John shook his head and looked down at his food, picking at the assortment with his chopsticks. She occupied herself by looking at him, studying him. He was getting stronger, that was physically obvious. The muscles on his chest and arms were tighter against his shirt and his back was rock solid underneath her hands. The months hardcore training really did pay off.

Thinking of his training made her thoughts turn to Bruce Wayne and the Batcave. With much argument and hesitance from John, he had told her the truth about Bruce and how he had left the cave and all equipment to him. Well, to Robin.

That sparked a question, one that had never been explained to her. "John?"

He looked up at her, "Yeah?"

Carrie thought for a second, trying to word the question in her mind correctly. "Bruce left you his cave under the name Robin, so he must have been trying to get a point across, right?"

At the mention of either Bruce or his legal name, his eyes hardened in the slightest. He shrugged and said, "I don't know. Maybe."

She continued, "But you still want everyone, including the people who know, to call you John."

"That is my name."

Exhaling from her nose, Carrie finally blurted out her question, "Why don't you want people to call you Robin?"

John bit the inside of his cheek. "I told you."

"You told me that Robin wasn't professional enough for your job. Things are different now, things changed. Is it because you're...ashamed of it? You shouldn't be."

"I'm not ashamed of my name, Carrie."

"Then why don't you like it?"

He let out a sigh and finally looked at her, a tired expression newly formed on his face. "It's a long story."

She smiled softly at him, "No one's blowing up the city tonight. I have time."

The memory of the bomb, Bane, Batman, and that fateful day was seared into both of their minds. Speaking of it made flashbacks reappear behind their eyes, captivating them for a few moments. John recovered first, speaking to Carrie before she could get lost in them.

"I'll make it short for you."

She looked up at him again, her mind and eyes back to the present. She asked, "Do you have other plans for tonight that you'd like to get to?"

John laughed at her again, but quieted moments later. There was a length of silence before he spoke again. "My dad called me Robin."

Carrie's eyes grew wide at the statement, but she stayed silent. He said, "He was the one who named me that, it was my mom who named me John; she used to say that it sounded more sophisticated, more likable. But she wanted to make him happy and so she agreed to name me Robin. Even though she always called me John."

"When I was younger, I really like the name Robin. It made me unique, you know? Whenever he called me that I felt special." He looked down at his carton again, not wanted to look at her, After he died, I just, I wanted to get rid of everything that reminded me of him. So I told people to start calling me John, and Robin became a thing of the past."

Carrie waited a moment and then placed a hand on his knee, squeezing it gently. "Thank you," she said softly.

He raised his head and looked at her, lifting the corners of his mouth. "You were bound to find out eventually."

"I knew that these past two years weren't for nothing."

"Being with me isn't that bad," he said with a playfully stern look on his face, the conversation that they just had now erased from his mind.

"Well...there are certain perks..."

John took both of their almost empty cartoons of Chinese food and placed them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He moved his body and leaned her back into the cushions, pinning her against the pillows like earlier.

"And those would be?"

She bit her lip, "I get free food."

His eyes shifted to hers, his expression unamused, which only made her smile grow wider. She laughed before she tugged on his neck and pulled him into a kiss. John sighed into it, but eventually did respond and pressed himself against her even more.

She broke the kiss quickly and sat up, taking his hand in hers. She locked eyes with him and said, "Now you have to come with me." Her voice was thick, and very, very tempting.

"And why's that?" he whispered in her ear.

"I wasn't kidding about torturing you."

Smirking, she stood up and led him to their bedroom, the expression on his face lustful, both of them not caring about the food left on the table. John closed the door behind them, and it wasn't opened until the next afternoon.