Even as her taxi flew through the streets at an unreasonable speed and narrowly avoiding a collision at every intersection, Barbara could still scarcely believe that Bruce had convinced her to come to Blüdhaven by herself. The concept was surreal and only slightly ridiculous.

She wished that she had been able to convince him to send Jason instead, especially since the uneven sidewalks and lack of wheelchair ramps made the city generally handicap inaccessible. Jason was conned into doing it once before, only to find an empty apartment and a passive aggressive note. He cursed a blue streak at Bruce for sending him to another state only to turn around and come right back. Jason absolutely refused to aid in any future efforts to bring Dick home.

Blüdhaven itself was known for being even more dangerous than Gotham, but that didn't bother her; she was too busy running impossible scenarios about Dick through her head. Had Dick known she was coming he would have picked her up from the airport without a second thought. Probably. Of course, he couldn't know. Dick had been screening everyone's calls for weeks now and Bruce, though generally stoic about the whole thing, insisted that someone check up on him "just to be sure". This visit had to be a surprise in case he decided to skip town like he did last time.

To Bruce's credit, he tried his hardest to convince Jason to go but the kid was nothing if not obstinate. He called Wally, Zatanna, and Conner before pushing the task upon Barbara. Bruce was obviously hesitant to send his wheelchair-bound ally into an unsafe and unfamiliar city, but he was also constantly trying to show her that she still had value in his crusade. It was the closest she'd ever seen Bruce come to showing genuine concern.

Bruce also knew that Dick and Barbara hadn't been talking much since Dick's brief engagement to Koriand'r (brief in part because Dick continued to sleep with Barbara, Helena, and who knows who else during their relationship) and subsequent leaving of the Titans a little less than a year ago. But Bruce insisted that Dick would listen to Barbara over him.

Barbara knew that most people needed their space once in a while, but Dick was never one for isolating himself. He thrived in social environments. Barbara did her best to not assume the worst of Dick. After all, she had been shunning social duties only a few months earlier. She was always worried when Dick didn't act like Dick, even if she wasn't so sure what Dick acted like anymore.

She hadn't seen him since right after she was shot. He was there, at her side, when she woke up in the hospital.

It wasn't her father and it wasn't Bruce. It was Dick.

The outline of his body and face were cast in shadows, so Barbara wasn't totally sure who it was at first. The fluttering of her eyelashes must have tipped off that she was awake and the figure leaned in closer. It was Dick.

She tried to speak, but her lips were too heavy to form words. He nodded his head gently when he saw the unspoken questions on her face. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was a mess, the drugs made her groggy and everything was blurry, but there was no denying it was Dick. He sang quiet songs while stroking her hair and kissing her forehead. Relaxation enveloped her like a warm blanket and eventually the morphine took her to sleep once again. She dreamt of songbirds.

When she woke up however many hours later, she found a note beside her bed - "You are strong enough to overcome this." - attached to a small plush bat. Not even Bruce had known about Dick's visit until after he had disappeared. Knowing that he had been there to support her filled her with positivity and optimism… right up until the point where the surgeon walked into her room looking like Death's messenger.

That was nearly six months ago. She was back on her feet, figuratively, and far from bound to a hospital bed. Her recovery rate was leaps and bounds over average. Her confidence was back up to pre-Joker levels. She felt almost invincible again.

But the streets were looking less and less friendly as she got closer to her destination. Everyone looked near-death and half-crazy. This city was the antithesis of Dick Grayson. The cab driver had barely said a word, and the radio was playing music from decades earlier. Her eyes slipped shut and before long the taxi was slowing to a stop.

"Alright, missy. That'll be $26.50."

Frowning, Barbara handed him her Wayne Enterprises credit card and began to maneuver herself out of the car. The driver begrudgingly handled her collapsible wheelchair and unfolded it in the most inconvenient possible way in front of her door. She lifted herself into the chair and flashed a sarcastic smile at him before wheeling herself away from the taxi.

"This building?" she asked, gesturing a building that was on the verge of crumbling to pieces.

"That's the one." The door slammed shut behind him and the taxi sped away.

She squinted skeptically at the decrepit building and began towards it. The concept of Dick living in, let alone owning, a building in this condition was beyond her understanding.

The elevator looked like something out of a horror film, like it was haunted by angry spirits that would cause it to tumble from the highest floor. She was hesitant to even use it, considering maybe just turning around and going home.

An idea only halted by the fact that it was late and the odds of her getting a flight back to Gotham at this hour were pretty much nil.

The elevator wailed like a thing possessed as it went up, each floor forcing Barbara to consider her life and how embarrassing it would be to die in an elevator after all she had been through. It squealed to a stop and she let go of the breath she didn't know she was holding. She got off the thing as quickly as she could, forcing the fact that she would have to use it again later out of her mind.

Dick's apartment was at the very end. She paused before knocking on the door. Given the hour, there was a decent chance that he wasn't even home and was out Nightwing-ing somewhere. If that were the case, who knows how long she would be stuck outside.

Her lips twisted into something between determination and self-loathing and she knocked firmly on the door. Faint stomps could be heard from inside before the door swung open.

Dick Grayson, naked from the waist-up, was standing in the doorway looking like a goddamn movie star. The flickering hallway lights cast dramatic shadows over his chest and arm muscles. His freshly-washed hair glistened in the light from the TV in the room behind him. Her heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened briefly before he stepped out of her way and allowed her to wheel into his apartment.

"Well you're not Thai food," he said after a moment.

Humor as a misdirect was common enough from him that it barely registered. It was how he maintained his happy-go-lucky façade while still looking cool.

"Sorry for the disappointment." She smirked, narrowly avoiding rolling over his shoes that lay in a half-hearted attempt at a pile next to his doorway. There was no way men were supposed to own that many shoes.

The apartment was about as worn and aged on the inside as it looked on the outside. Dick also appeared to have adopted the cleaning habits of a frat boy. There were empty pizza boxes, all from different pizzerias, stacked on the kitchen table and a dozen different cereal boxes on the counter tops. The place could definitely use a loving touch. Or an afternoon with Alfred Pennyworth and a box of steel wool.

"No, this is way better. I'm not even hungry." He grabbed a sweatshirt from a nearby chair and pulled it on. Barbara was only a little disappointed to be robbed of the view. "What are you doing here, Babs?"

"Wow, rude," she said, rolling her eyes. "Bruce sent me here to check on you. No one's heard from you for weeks. He was worried."

"So why couldn't he come himself?"

"You know why."

They hadn't talked much since he quit and moved away, with conversations becoming fewer and further between. Bruce and Dick basically spoke through Alfred and Clark these days. It felt like an improper use of Superman's friendship. Everyone between them was always telling them to talk to one another, but no one tells Batman what to do. Someone raised by Batman could only resist in the same way.

"How is he?" Dick asked flatly. He already knew how Bruce was: Bruce was the same way he always is.

"He's..." She spotted a pair of crumpled women's underwear on the floor and paused briefly. "Do you have company?"

"What? Oh." He grabbed the panties off the ground, balled them up and tossed them into his bedroom. He didn't appear apologetic or even a little embarrassed. "Sorry. Those must be from yesterday. She left in kind of a hurry."

"Mm."

She stopped judging Dick's sexual appetite not too long after their breakup, but he used to be more discrete than this. There was no way he just missed a pair of underwear that didn't belong to him unless he was seriously distracted.

"She probably won't be back for them, so you can relax."

Her face must not have adequately expressed that she was feeling reassured, because Dick moved them into the living room and invited her to sit on the couch, which thankfully did not look as dilapidated as the building. She carefully lifted herself onto the couch, turning down his offer to help her.

"You seem like you're doing really well, considering..." He looked at her legs, then the floor, then back to her eyes.

"Thanks. It hasn't been easy, but I'm managing fine." She wasn't in the mood for the pity party her condition usually invited and tended to cut people off before it got too weepy. It worked better than playing the victim, which got more tiresome every time it happened.

"How are you, um..."

"What?" Here? Moving around? Alive?

"Still working... with Batman?"

She sighed. That was a fair question, given the sheer amount of jumping-off-of-buildings she used to do on a regular basis. It had to be hard to imagine working with Batman in a capacity that didn't involve backflips and swooping off of gargoyles.

"I guess you could call me 'IT personnel'. I've got a pretty amazing set-up in the clock tower, courtesy of Wayne Enterprises. They're calling me Oracle now."

"Sounds neat. I should come check that out."

Barbara shifted. Bruce had asked her to try to convince Dick to come back to Gotham, at least for a day or two. This was as good of a set up as any.

"You should. It would be fun."

"Do you miss me?" he asked, grinning ear to ear.

"Alfred misses you," she said quickly, dismissing his smile. "Bruce does, even if he won't admit it."

"But do you?" He leaned closer. He smelled like aftershave and gunpowder.

"Dick, I..." She bit her lip, considering her choice of words. "It's just not the same without you."

"Good enough. I'll think about it." He seemed satisfied enough and relaxed her shoulders in the sofa. "So what else is new on the home front?"

"We just upgraded the computers in the Cave. That was a pretty huge ordeal."

"I've been telling him to do that for years."

"Well, Jason made it kind of a necessity."

"He didn't..."

"Broken. All of it. With a baseball bat."

"He never would have put up with that kind of stuff from me. I would have been grounded and fired."

Barbara sensed a hint of indignity in his tone and had to keep herself from smirking. It was true that Batman had picked Dick's polar opposite as his new protégé, so he obviously had to make some big changes in his parenting and mentoring style. Things that Dick Grayson would have been severely punished for were now just the everyday facts of life with Jason Todd.

"He didn't have to. You were a model child." Barbara patted him on the back. "It doesn't mean you're defunct."

"So tell me about Robin 2: Red and Green Boogaloo. I have been hearing the worst things about him."

"He's giving Bruce grey hair faster than Joker. He swears and hits too hard and skips school and I actually caught him smoking once." Barbara sighed. Her hands were tense. "If we're not careful, he's going to end up hanging out with Roy."

"Wow. Why is Bruce even keeping him around?"

"He... he's talented and motivated. He's really strong for his age and well on his way to being taller than Bruce." She paused and cast her eyes downwards. "After what happened, he tried to go after the Joker on my behalf. Bruce caught him before he even left the Cave and tore a strip off of him. Hoodlum with a heart of gold, I guess."

It still made her sore to think about Jason trying his hardest to avenge her. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her, but if Bruce hadn't stopped him then who knows what the Joker might have done to him. Despite her gripes with the kid, she still had very strong big sister-type feelings for him. She wanted to protect him from his impulses, but she couldn't anymore.

Of course, she would never admit that she actually loved the little shit.

"Sounds like a handful."

"Understatement of the year. It's a good thing he's so cute."

"Whoa whoa whoa. Whoa. Slow down."

Barbara stifled a laugh. "What?"

"So I skip town and you hop on the next underage boy in a domino mask?" Dick raised an eyebrow. "We should just start calling you Bat Cougar."

"He's the same age you were when we started smooching on rooftops. I figure that's old enough for him too."

"Wait, are you -" Dick coughed. "I was joking! I didn't- Are you actually-"

"Calm down, ex-boy wonder. It's a joke. I'm way older than him and most of the time I actually want to strangle him." She shook her head with frustration. "Bruce said he'd 'even out' after a while. But it's been FOUR YEARS, BRUCE. FOUR YEARS. He's not 'evening out'!"

Yeah, she loved the little shit, but that didn't stop him from getting on her nerves every single day. She hadn't been able to vent to Bruce about his delinquent ward and it always seemed rude to lay it all on Alfred. Getting it out to Dick felt good and Dick seemed to be enjoying himself.

Dick exploded into laughter. "I cannot wait to meet this kid. I've never seen anyone make you this crazy."

Barbara groaned. "Just... just don't let him get to you. He's good at getting on people's nerves. And he's got anger issues. He sort of resents being compared to you all the time."

"No wonder he acts out. No kid could ever be as perfect as I was."

She roughly shoved him in the shoulder. "That attitude won't help. Unless you want him batarang you in the ass, you should probably humble up."

"Babs, darling, there are many words one could use to describe me. Statuesque, Casanova, epitome of manhood, perfectly-sculpted abs... Humble is not in that lexicon." He somehow managed to keep a straight face throughout the flexing and posing.

Don't think about his abs. Don't think about his abs. Don't think about his abs.

"I hate you so much," she said between giggles.

"I bet you do." He had moved closer and had his arm over the back of the couch, just behind her shoulders.

Barbara noticed how close he was and leaned back a little. There was no way this was going to happen. Not tonight. The last time he pulled this move, she ended up exhausting her supply of condoms and in need of a new headboard. Then he invited her to his wedding. It was the last time they had slept together and she was still a tiny bit grumpy about it.

"Getting a little cozy there, Grayson."

"Come on, we're friends. Relax."

A police officer's uniform sat in a crumpled mess on an armchair across the room. At first, she wasn't even sure if it belonged to Dick. Then she remembered what Bruce had told her.

"Like I'm letting my guard down around Officer Seduction."

"Oh, you noticed the uniform." Dick casually glanced over at the chair. "Yeah, it's no big deal. Just acting as the thin white line between civilization and anarchy."

Police officer was not a career move that Barbara had even expected from Dick, especially while still acting as a vigilante himself. Her father was a cop and that was already weird enough for her own good. The idea of living a dual life to that extent seemed exhausting, but if anyone had the energy and determination for it, it was Dick Grayson.

"Bruce had mentioned you were working in law enforcement. I assumed it was a polite way of saying mall cop."

"Mall cop?" he sputtered. "Mall cop! Does this look like the body of a mall cop?"

She cackled with delight. "You could do security at Abercrombie & Fitch with that body."

"I am a legitimate officer of the Blüdhaven Police Department." He fished for his badge in his back pocket and held it to her face. "See?"

He looked genuinely hurt, like she had called him a liar. She recognized the look from many years ago when she first accused him of cheating on her. She felt a little bad. He was obviously very proud of what he had accomplished in such a short time. This was the form his atonement was taking and it was hard to deny that it suited him.

Her laughter slowed down. "I believe you. I believed you the whole time. You're too easy to rattle."

"I know. I just... kind of hoped you'd be impressed. A little bit." He fidgeted bashfully as he put his badge on the end table. "I got a real job and everything."

"Aw, Dickie... I am impressed. It's just a little weird that you'd choose to uphold the law during the day while actively breaking it every night." She rested her face on her hand and leaned forward. She was just a tiny bit impressed. "Plus being a superhero is a real job."

"It doesn't pay the bills."

"No, your dad does, trust fund baby."

"Pretty sure my dad pays your bills too."

"Well, he is sort of technically my employer. And all the equipment I use belongs to his company. And I live there." She shrugged. Being funded by Wayne Enterprises had never felt like a hand out.

"You're the best paid 'IT personnel' in the world," he said. "And you'll never have to coach some poor idiot through power cycling his computer."

"I could never work for less."

"You might never have to."

"How much money does Bruce even have?" Barbara wondered aloud. "Like, I don't even think Forbes knows."

"Infinite," Dick said, raising his hands over his head. "Bruce has infinite money. Every time he spends a dollar, that dollar is automatically replaced by two more dollars."

Her eyes widened. "That totally makes sense. I bet he's got some kind of reverse gypsy curse."

The two sat and joked and laughed until their sides ached. Dick was clearly in dire need of some relaxation that didn't involve taking his pants off and needed someone to talk to that actually knew him. He didn't seem to have a lot of friends in Blüdhaven, and even fewer people who knew what he did at night.

After a while Dick stood up and walked to the kitchen. "I'm going to grab a beer. You want something?"

She rolled her head back and smiled. "Do you have wine?"

"I think I've got some Riesling left over from New Year's."

"That sounds great."

He returned with a wine glass and a pint glass, both fuller than necessary, and placed them the coffee table.

"Coasters, Master Dick!" Barbara barked in her best Alfred impression.

"Pssht. No one under 70 actually owns coasters. It's a myth."

"I own coasters."

"And you're 80."

Barbara picked up her glass and sipped its contents. Unsurprisingly, it was delicious and tasted suspiciously like it was $500 a bottle. She threw a sideways glance his way, wondering who he'd bought this wine for initially. He'd never liked white wine.

"This is good," she said simply.

"I know." He took a long drink and put the glass back down. "Thanks for coming. It's been really nice seeing a familiar face. I didn't realize how much I missed Gotham until now."

It was obvious that he was flirting (because his lips were moving), but she ignored it. "Well, we're all worried about you. Why have you been ignoring everyone's calls? Is everything okay?"

"To be honest, no. It's not great." His tone shifted to something slightly more solemn, but still distinctly casual.

Her brows knit together with concern. "What's wrong?"

"I just... I feel like I screwed everything up, you know? I never should have left Gotham to run the Titans. I should have stayed there and worked with Bruce." He sighed and slumped his shoulders a little. "It was never worth it. Everything I've done has just made my life worse. I should have listened to you before, when you tried to get me to stay. Things would be different. And better."

"Don't say that. Everyone makes mistakes. You thought it was a good idea then, and no one is going to hold it against you. You can come back now."

"No, I can't. I let everyone down. I don't deserve to come back to the Cave."

"Of course you do. And we all want you to come back." She leaned forward and stroked his hair gently. He tensed under her fingers but didn't move away.

Dick was silent for a few moments.

"It's my fault you can't walk anymore, Babs."

"What?" she said, breathlessly. "Of course it isn't! You-"

"I wasn't there. If I had been there… he, the Joker – I could have stopped him!" Tears had started forming in the corners of his eyes. "If I had been there to stop him, you would still be Batgirl."

"I don't blame you for this." The memory was still fresh, but she didn't let herself get emotional. "This was bad luck. Wrong place, wrong time. He would have shot you too."

"I just… if I had stayed and we'd gotten a place together, we could have lived somewhere with better security and… he would never even have gotten in."

"We might not have been together anymore."

"We would have. I just know it."

"Dick…"

"We could have gotten m-"

"Stop."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to, I just… you know."

"I know."

He'd let a few tears drop but had resigned himself to staring at his socks and breathing slow, deep breaths. He buried one hand in his dark hair and rubbed his scalp. Despite being the injured one, Barbara felt overwhelmingly sorry for him. She had no idea that he blamed himself for her condition.

"Come back to Gotham with me tomorrow. Just take a couple days off work. At least check in so Alfred can stop worrying about you."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm totally sure. If staying at the manor is too weird, then you can stay with me." Barbara wished she could pull those last words into her mouth, but they were out now, so she had to stand by them.

"I- I mean..." Dick still looked unsure.

"Come on. Show that little brat what a real Boy Wonder looks like."

He nodded. "Okay. I'll do it for you."

Barbara was suddenly aware that her wine glass was already half-empty and how she was already beginning to feel light-headed. She was also aware of exactly how close Dick had moved towards her in the last couple of minutes.

"Dick..." she said, leaning away. His tendency to move close to her no matter the situation lingered long after their break-up, and it seemed to be subconscious.

His eyes flicked upwards and he chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip. "Sorry. Old habits die hard," he said bashfully. "You look really pretty, though."

She put her glass down and slid back from him. "I can't do this right now."

Piling raw animal attraction on top of an emotional hang-up was not her idea of seduction. She hadn't so much as kissed anyone since she lost her legs. Even though she swore that she wasn't going to let her handicap get in the way of anything, she still found herself using it as an excuse to not have to go on the dates that Kara and Dinah kept trying to set her up on.

The worst part was she didn't even know whether she'd enjoy it when she finally made it back to that level of intimacy. She was scared that she would never enjoy sex again. She was even more scared of making that discovery with Dick.

"I'm sorry. I really am." Dick stood up and walked to his DVD rack, immediately grabbing one without really looking. "Here, let's watch a movie instead."

"Sure. Sounds good." She leaned back against the arm of the sofa and smiled. He sat down at the other end of the couch, as far from her as possible and pressed play.

Two hours later, however, the credits rolled and Dick found himself with his head on Barbara's lap while she gently played with his hair. It had happened so gradually and naturally that neither one had noticed until they'd been brought back to reality by the end of the movie. But neither one stopped.

"Babs..." he said softly after the credits finished.

"Yeah?" she said.

"I miss you."

A lump formed in Barbara's throat and she couldn't force it back down. It was as genuine and sweet as it had ever been. He meant it. She knew he meant it. Random phrases and declarations of love from years ago bounced around her head. She could feel the fear rising in her chest and she wanted nothing more than to jump out the window and disappear from this situation. She looked around the room for a way out of the conversation and all she could think about was the underwear on the floor and the movie and the empty wine glass sitting on the coffee table.

She panicked.

"I miss you too."

She meant it too. Dick knew she meant it. Without hesitation, he pushed himself back up, lifted Barbara into his lap and kissed her. She moaned once against his lips before kissing him back, hard. His arms wrapped around her back and he pulled her closer. She smiled at the closeness and opened her mouth a little to let his tongue in. He enthusiastically accepted her invitation and stroked her palate with his tongue.

Before she knew it, he'd flipped her onto her back and had worked his way down to her neck. He knew his way around Barbara's body and was soon leaving little marks on her shoulders and nape of her neck. She groaned appreciatively, arching her back against his chest. After leaving a sizable hickey on her left collarbone he returned his lips to hers. She nipped at his lower lip and pulled him down harder on top of her.

His smile kept creeping back up and he had to force it down, lest he look goofy. He couldn't remember the last time he was this happy.

"Mint..." she muttered absently.

Her voice pulled him out of his trance. "What?"

"You still taste like mint..." she said, kissing him again.

He smirked and kissed her softly on the cheek. Her skin was warm and flushed and her cheeks were just as soft as they'd always been.

"And you still smell like oranges." He nuzzled her neck again. "You're just as beautiful as I remember."

"Dick..." she breathed as he slid his hand up underneath her shirt, lingering briefly around her waist before continuing upwards.

This felt right. Not even the most logical centers of Barbara's brain could deny that fact. Kissing Dick was like coming home after spending months at sea. She was comfortable and happy. There was nothing that could ruin this.

Her wheelchair beeped. Dick stopped kissing her and looked across the room.

"Was that what I think it was?" Dick asked.

"Yes..." Barbara put a hand to her face and groaned loudly. "Can you please pass me my communicator?"

He sighed, only a little disappointed. "Of course." He grabbed the device from her bag and handed it to her.

She sat up and held it to her mouth. "Hello, Batman," she said, hoping he wouldn't notice her less-than-rhythmic breathing.

"Oracle. You haven't checked in yet. Is everything okay?" Nothing killed the mood like Batman's demanding voice. They both knew that from experience.

Dick took the communicator from her hand. "Everything's fine, Bats," he said casually. "She's here with me."

"Nightwing." Batman sounded a little surprised, which was obviously unusual for him. "Good to hear from you."

"Same," he said. "It's been a long time."

"It has."

Awkward silence filled the air on both sides.

"I'd better go," Batman said. "Take care of yourself."

"I will," said Dick. "And I promise I'll have her home safe tomorrow."

"Fine. Batman out."

The line went dead. Dick smirked triumphantly and put the communicator back on her chair. "That went well."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why did you do that? I don't want him to get the wrong idea."

"The wrong idea about what? You having your tongue down my throat and about to take advantage of me?"

She pursed her lips together and punched him in the arm. "Stop it."

"I'm sorry, babe." He rubbed the back of his neck with mock regret. "Let me make it up to you."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

Without a word he gathered her in his arms and lifted her off the couch with ease. He cut off her protests with a quick kiss and carried her into his bedroom. He gently put her down on the side of his bed so she was sitting up with her legs hanging off.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He pressed a finger to her lips to hush her and slowly began to work his way down her body. "Just relax. I'm going to make you feel amazing."

He planted dozens of feather light kisses on her ears, jawline, and neck, making a longer stopover on her lips before moving down again. Warm butterflies started gathering in her abdomen and spreading to her whole body. He kept going down. He pulled her shirt over her head, lavishing attention on her clavicle and shoulders. He skimmed gentled over her breasts, still leaving her bra on, and trailed kisses up and down her waist and hips. Barbara let out a low moan, to which Dick responded by rubbing small circles into her hipbones with his calloused fingertips.

If the way her body was responding to Dick's touch was any indication, she would be able to feel everything he did. Her skin exploded with sensitivity as he caressed and kissed every part of her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so good and suddenly couldn't bear the thought of being without his lips, his hands... everything. She wanted him.

As he slid his fingers along the fly of her jeans, she shook herself back into reality.

You promised yourself this wasn't going to happen, remember?

"Dick..." she said between breaths.

"Babs..." he moaned into her skin.

"Stop."

"Hm?" He planted a kiss on her belly button and looked up at her with clear eyes. "Why?"

Because you knew he was going to take advantage of you like this. It's why you didn't want to come in the first place.

He's not taking advantage of me.

It sure looks like it.

But I want him, too.

"I..." She fell back onto the bed and covered her face with her hands. "We should stop. This is exactly why I wanted Jason to come. I told Bruce this was a bad idea."

Dick sighed and sat back on the floor in front of her. "I get it. This is weird."

Barbara shook her head. "It's not weird at all. It's the most natural I've felt in a long time. But..."

"You're not ready," he said.

"Yeah."

He sighed and pushed himself to his feet. "I understand. Let's go to sleep."

"Thank you."

"You get comfy." He grabbed one of the pillows from his bed and tossed it into the living room, then took a t-shirt from his closet and handed it to her. "Do you need anything? Should I bring your chair in here?"

"I... I'm fine. You can sleep in here if you want. I'll sleep on the couch."

"Over my dead body." He put a hand on her shoulder and kissed her forehead. "Sleep tight."

"Good night."

The door closed behind him. Barbara pulled her legs onto the bed and unbuttoned her jeans. She laid on her back and tapped her hips, suddenly feeling the effects of separation from his warm hands and lips. Her breaths slowly went from ragged to even as she took off her pants and changed into his shirt... which smelled like him. Her heart rate went up again and the warm feeling returned to her abdomen.

"Dammit..." she muttered, slamming a fist into the empty mattress next to her. This was going to be a long night.