For all those of you who voted for this story: Here you go! Whoever didn't... well I hope you read and enjoy :)

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters

"Zatanna, A.K.A The Mistress of Magic." The Lieutenant announces and drops a folder about half an inch thick in front of Officer Richard Grayson.

The black haired man flips it open, revealing the picture of the woman being spoken of: Curly black hair and penetrating blue eyes that searched over her shoulder. Her sculptured lips were slightly parted in a gasp. He could tell she had killer curves despite the bulky trench coat she is wearing.

"You're telling me this is the woman who outsmarted the GPD?" he scoffed and slammed the file shut. "She looks like a freaking Victoria's Secret Angel."

"And that is her greatest weapon." the Lieutenant replied calmly, lighting a cigar and placing it in his mouth. "So far she has robbed sixteen jewelry shops and five banks, all times without leaving a trace behind."

"And you called me in so I could save the faces of your sorry asses."

"We called you in to catch a ghost."

DAY 1

Zatanna stopped a few blocks away from the store to catch her breath. Victorious once more, she loosened the tie and the first four buttons of her disguise, running her fingers through her hair to give them a wild look. She checked her reflection in the glass of a quiet store; from badass thief to sex goddess in the blink of an eye.

"Gotham Police Department," a deep voice growled behind her and she felt the cool metal of a pistol's nozzle press into the small of her back. Fuck. "Put your hands where I can see them."

She placed her hands in the air, only to have them unceremoniously yanked back down behind her and cuffed. The owner of the voice brought his lips to her ear from behind.

"You're good, Mistress, but not good enough."

"And you must be the goddamn Sherlock Holmes of this God forsaken city." She drawled, turning her head slightly to catch a look of her holder in the glass. He had pulled his fedora low over his face, the bottom of Ray Bans peeking out from under the rim.

"Start walking." He said sharply, giving her a slight push down the sidewalk. She obliged but not before hissing a few bad names at him; she was wearing four-inch heels for Christ's sake!

The deserted streets of Gotham, Dick had come to learn, were more dangerous than the crowded ones. Tonight, he could hear the thief's breathing and clicking heels in the deafening silence. A heady scent of roses wafted of Zatanna and he caught a whiff of oranges. He shook his head, clearing the haze. He had to remain on high alert…

Yet she sensed the gun-toting ass before he did. Dick released her cuffed hands and she ducked as the thug swung at her face and kicked him square in the groin. Another one came up behind Dick and the man delivered a solid punch to the man's jaw.

He heard guns load and clothes rustled then five men formed a loose circle around them. He glanced at Zatanna and found her already gazing at him. They came to a silent understanding and she jumped, bringing her bound wrists in front and swinging over Dick's head as he ducked and tackled a thug on her right.

The moved together in perfect sync; he bent down and she rolled over his back, always moved to the side away from each other, always covered each other as if they had been doing it there whole life.

And when he finally looked up from the last guy, all he found were a pair of broken handcuffs, and a playing card: A Queen of Hearts with a lipstick stamp on it.

"Damn girl." He breathed and remembered the shape of her lips, all glossed over.

DAY 2

Richard Grayson did not like having partners. Partnership was all about trust, having bonds of friendship and that was something Dick didn't want in his career.

You had to worry about the other half all the time, take it upon yourself for not being there when they got hurt and live in fear of the mission being compromised because they were just too weak. He'd seen too many of his colleagues partners get killed, had seen what happened to them because of the guilt and how their work was affected. He was never going to go through that.

Yet when he walked into his office exactly five moths, seventeen days and four hours later, he saw her sitting there on his desk with her legs crossed. She looked up when he opened the door and gave his shocked brain another jolt with her pretty smile. Her black curls were pulled off her face and her blue eyes twinkled with excitement as she slid off the desk and strutted up to him.

"You." He managed to choke out, still staring at the apparition. Five months. Five months and more than a fortnight. That's how long she had haunted his dreams… and he wasn't always capturing her and locking her up.

"Good morning, Officer Grayson." She sang. "My name is Zatanna Zattara and I am your new partner." She stood on her toes and brought her lips to his ear, dropping her voice to a whisper. "And I'm sure we'll have a great time together, won't we?"

Fuck.

DAY 3

"I think we should talk." She said, crossing her arms over her chest. Dick glanced up from his paperwork then went back to scribbling hard. "Don't ignore me Dick."

"Officer Grayson." He murmured. With a sigh he dropped his pen and sat back, eyes expressionless behind his glasses. Why he wore them inside remained a mystery to Zatanna. "Fine. Talk."

"Great, but first let's get something to eat." She replied, picking up her coat. Dick raised a brow. "What? I'm starving."

Dick adjusted his glasses as he stepped out behind Zatanna. It had been month today. They'd been working together for a month. He still remembered himself on that morning, reaching out and grabbing her throat with one hand, the other one reaching for his gun. He remembered her blue eyes widen in shock, her lips part in a silent plea… and then she was massaging her throat while Wally West supported her. He felt his arms being pinned behind his back, his friend Connor's voice urgent in his ear.

Now Zatanna turned on her heel to face him, and he bumped right into her. She stumbled back a step and Dick placed a hand around her waist to stop her from falling. Her eyes searched the dark lenses of his glasses.

"What are you thinking?" she asked quietly. Dick chuckled and her brow furrowed. "What? What did I say?"

"Nothing," he replied with a half smile. "Just mulling over the fact that the FBI sent you undercover on such a dangerous mission."

"Please." She snorted. "It wasn't anything I couldn't have taken care off. I robbed more than two dozen banks before you came along." She paused, then added in a tentative voice, "You can let go off me now."

Dick immediately stepped back and let his hand fall away. He wasn't going to blush, he wasn't going to, he wasn't…

"Are you blushing?" Zatanna inquired, causing him to bristle and set his mouth in a hard line. He pushed past her and headed down the front steps towards his waiting motorbike. Zatanna followed quietly and stopped dead in front of the vehicle. Dick put his helmet on and held out a spare for her, but when she didn't take it, he exhaled in irritation.

"Well?" he snapped. That seemed to pull her out of her trance and she quickly mounted the bike. Her hands seemed a little unsure of what to do once they had fixed the headgear in place, then finally came to a rest on his shoulders.

Dick gunned the engine and shot towards the curb, taking the turn at no less then eighty miles an hour. Zatanna's hands slipped from his shoulders and found refuge in the front of his shirt, gripping as tightly as they could. She buried her nose in his back and murmured something about feeling sick. Dick allowed himself to smile.

Her hand were warm. They felt good against his chest. Familiar. Like they'd always been the ones to touch him.

Later that night Dick unlocked the door of his apartment and entered, locking up behind him. He headed straight for his room and quietly turned the knob. His girlfriend was fast asleep in his bed, her red hair framing her delicate face.

He changed and got in beside her, sidling up to the girl and wrapping a hand around her waist. Barbara Gordon stirred.

"Hey babe," she mumbled sleepily. Dick kissed her cheek.

"Hi Barbie," he breathed. "I'm home now, go back to sleep."

DAY 4

How did he ever manage to end up in this situation? Dick rolled his neck on his shoulders with a groan, trying to work out the stiffness. There wasn't much he could do though; his hands were bound behind the chair.

His vision was hazy, objects floated in front of his eyes and he felt highly nauseous.

Drugs. He was on some kind of drug. He had to get out of… wherever he was. His semi-fogged brain processed the sound of heels clacking on tiles and the next moment his whole world was thrown into light.

Dick groaned and blinked hard as he took in his surroundings; a sterile kitchen with marble tabletops wiped clean, all white and silver.

He was behind the marble counter, tied to a kitchen chair. He blinked at his surroundings before his eyes snapped back to the countertop. A neon purple picture frame sat atop the surface, the iron welded into hearts of various sizes. The picture itself caused Dick's eyes to widen, forced his jaw to drop.

It was Zatanna from a few years before, all bright smiles and glittering eyes and next to her was a thin, immaculately dressed man with a moustache, smiling kindly. And that was a face Dick would never forget, because he's the one who had been responsible for that man's death.

"Do you understand what you've done?"

It was Zatanna. He recognized the voice immediately, but it was without it's usual chirpy or lazy tones. It was shaky, broken and filled with pain. She entered his peripheral vision from his right and circled to stand right in front of him.

She'd always been petite and curvy, but now she was hunched over and hugging herself hard, hidden behind the overlarge clothes she was wearing. The hood of her jacket covered her eyes.

"Zatanna… what are you-?" he began. She raised a fist and punched him right across the face. Dick's head snapped to the side and he saw stars. His glasses slid off his nose and clattered to the ground.

"Don't. Say. A word. To me." She screamed the last two words, sobbing in between. Her hands came up to his face as if searching, and then her knee followed a second later. Razor sharp pain shot up Dick's chin and shook his teeth loose. He groaned and tried to rotate his neck but she was already punching him again, eyes squeezed shut with tears leaking out. Each attack was enunciated by a cry or a whimper from Zatanna, a sharp intake of breath from Dick. But he endured it silently, working at freeing his bound hands. Somewhere in the corner of his mind he knew he deserved this. Finally, she stopped, seemingly out of energy.

"Zatanna…" Dick whispered hoarsely, every inch of his face throbbing from her relentless onslaught. "Look at me." Her eyes were still tightly shut, curled fists quivering at her side.

"Look at me." His voice was slightly clearer. Zatanna shook her head vigorously, refusing to open her eyes.

"N-No. I can't look at you." She replied in the same shaky voice. "I can't look at you because I have to do this. If I don't do this, I'll break. I'll bend and break and I can't do that right now…" her voice trailed off into quiet sobs.

Dick freed his hands and in a swift motion, reached out and pulled Zatanna into his lap, wrapping his muscled arms around her. Because, really, what more could he do to console her broken heart?

Zatanna allowed herself to cry, cry as hard as she could into his shoulder. His arms were reassuring, his hands comforting as one stroked her hair, the other rubbed her back.

"Look at me, Tanna." Dick whispered in her ear. Reluctantly, she pulled herself away from him and pried her damp eyes open, immediately regretting her decision. His face was a patchwork of black and blue with a big gash on his cheek and a bleeding lip. She touched his face gently, horrified at herself. Dick winced, then smiled.

"Yeah. You were really angry. And rightfully so." That caused her to cry again, now planting kisses on all his injuries.

"I'm s-s-sorry," she sobbed, kissing his bloody nose, his bruised cheek. "I was j-just s-s-so-o p-pissed." She kissed his split lip gently but Dick placed his hands on either side of her face and returned the kiss passionately.

His lips were on fire, hot against hers. She could taste the blood, taste him; coffee and cream, his favorite combination. His hands were gentle yet rough at the same time as they skimmed her waist and rested at her hips, fingers brushing her hipbones.

She shuddered under his touch and locked her elbows behind his neck, pulling him closer still so they were flush against each other, connected at the hips, stomach, chest.

It got dirty very quickly. Every emotion both of them had held in for all this time came pouring out as did the feelings they had tried to deny. His kisses grew harder and he licked her lips, parted her mouth with his own, slipping his tongue inside.

Zatanna replied in kind, tugging at his silky black hair and knotting her fingers in it, grinding her hips against his. He pulled away suddenly, eyes wide and cheeks red, breathing hard.

"What did you just do?" he breathed. His pupils had dilated, the cool blue of his eyes darkening. It took her a moment to understand.

"You mean this?" she asked softly, rubbing her pelvis against his again. Dick inhaled sharply and nodded. He lurched forward, lifting her up as he rose from his chair and moved forward until Zatanna was sitting on the counter.

His lips found hers then moved down her jaw to her neck, kissing the length of it then down lower towards the neck of her jacket. He silently pulled the zipper down, planting kisses on every inch of bare skin.

Zatanna moaned at the contact, nuzzling his hair and urging him on. Her jacket came off and fell to the floor.

Dick looked up at her through his lashes. God she was beautiful, even with the tear tracks and the bloodshot eyes. Her lips were slightly swollen from his demanding kisses, her breathing erratic and her chest rose and fell in an uncertain rhythm.

His gaze fell to her chest, to the buttons that held the thin fabric over her body. He raised his hand and played with the very first button, dying to undo it with the other ones. "Is this okay?" he whispered, popping the first button.

Zatanna grabbed both his hands and brought them to the buttons, tilting her head to one side with a smile. "I'm all yours."

That was enough. He literally ripped the buttons open, revealing the skin beneath it. His eyes were glued to her body, to her curves, to her plain black bra. She shifted slightly and looked a little embarrassed.

"I know it's not much…" she began but he cut her off with a kiss before dropping to her knees and kissing from right under her bra to the top of her jeans. He muttered against her skin, the same word, beautiful, again and again.

"Dick." She stared down at him, curling her hands on his shoulders. "Will you make me yours?"

His head snapped up, crystal blue orbs wide. "Tanna, that's not what you want."

"Yes it is!" she replied firmly. "I want you to have sex with me Richard Grayson, because I strongly believe that I love you."

He was silent for the longest moment. Maybe she had sprung him with it too soon…

He laughed in relief and buried his face in her lap, arms wrapped around her waist. "I guess the feeling is mutual then." He stood and took her hand, pulling her off the counter and leading her towards the bedroom. Just before entering, he stopped and faced her, cradling her chin in his hand. "But that's not the only reason." He stated it as a fact, eyes full of passion and laced with sorrow. Her lower lip trembled.

"I need to forget everything that has happened over the last few days." She was crying again. "And I would like you to help me forget."

She didn't need to say another word. Dick silently shut the bedroom door behind them.

Yes... not exactly sure how it went, but I really hope all of you read and enjoy. R&R guys if you aren't going to Fave :)

Again go vote on my poll for more stories soon! As of now I... forgot which story has the second highest votes... Sorry XD

Thank again,

M.