A chilling breeze of mid February wind rustled the thin hotel sheets on the bed where Roy Harper, known to his friends as Red Arrow, attempted to stay asleep. Muttering an incoherent phrase mixed with a few curse words as the nippy Washington DC air tickled his bare back, he pulled the covers towards his head in an attempt to reclaim his slumber but was thwarted when tension pulled back at the cheap fabric. Playing a brief game of tug of war for the sheet, he released it hoping to get some satisfaction in hearing a stumble from the opposition, but as usual his wish was not met. A cat always lands on her feet, he mused as he allowed one sleep covered eye to open so he could glare at the source of his discomfort, being only in his boxers in winter weather was not his idea of a good morning, especially since global warming took care of any warm weather DC was used to bragging about to their Northern neighbors.

"You're not dressed," came the response to his glare, her voice calm with a hint of an edge to it, revealing no emotion in her words or on her face as she spoke.

"I noticed," Roy replied stiffly, cracking his back as he sat up, wincing as he felt a half-healed scab tear slightly, the eight half moon impressions on his back and two on his shoulders was not his idea of pleasure. "But hey, it's your fault and you didn't complain last ni-"

"I'm going out; I'll be back later tonight. Don't go downtown, lover," she cut him off, showing no feeling to his original statement, which was typical for her before she went to "work". It was her way of protection; she didn't want him to get involved in the crossfire that she knew would be bloody, keeping her distance was for the best. He got off the bed, starting to walk towards her and she quickly turned away, knowing if her eyes met his she would never be able to leave.

"You told me you were here on vacation."

"And you believed me?" she replied quickly, glancing over her shoulder at him as he pulled on some jeans and then a button down shirt over his very nicely toned arms from years at the bow with the muscles that defined his chest and abs almost showing through his- she shook her head, getting any of those thoughts out, she had a job to do. "Roy you're not coming with me," she repeated as he gave her a cocky grin, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her to his chest.

"February 19th, hmm, I wonder Jade," he murmured, resting his chin on the top of her jet black hair, his fingers tracing small circles on her stomach. She shook her head, not understanding what he was trying to tell her as he continued to delay her from her assignment. "It's Presidents day, isn't it?" he added, his grip tightening around her toned waist to keep her close.

"I don't know, why would I?" she countered, trying to escape his grasp, while trying to change the subject. "You'd get into a lot of trouble if they found out you…us…its better if you just don't know where I'm going and what I'm doing."

"George Washington was born February 22nd, you know. To thank him for his services in the civil war they created a day of honor for him, or Presidents Day. Though now it's only a day off of school and a shopper's dream sale," he kept her close, pausing his speech to give her neck a few soft kisses to force her to listen and pay attention as she simply rolled her eyes. He kissed the tender skin below her ear before pausing, his breath at her ear, sending chills down the assassin's spine. "Coincidentally, President Smith is giving an award ceremony to the POW's and their families. Not to mention he's been causing some problems underground with some big names in the 'business'. Perfect opportunity for someone to make a big statement for an even bigger profit, I'd say," he added nonchalantly, releasing his playful grasp around her waist so she could escape.

"What do you know about any of this, Roy, you're a good boy, for the most part," she replied, spinning around to look at him, folding her arms across her chest. They often got into this banter, he always told her not to kill but what choice did she have. This was her life; she would never change, especially not for some pretty boy with nice arms.

"I do my research, did you really think I was here for a vacation, Jade?" he replied with her own words, raising a brow at her as a flicker of an emotion Roy couldn't process passed her face.

"So what, we're enemies, lover?" she replied, a hint of a smile passing her face as she walked towards the bathroom, Roy at her heels. Once inside the cramped room, Roy still not answering her question, she fumbled around the "cosmetics" that were scattered about on the sinks counter, Roy leaning against the door watching her intently. "…You broke my favorite polish," she exclaimed upon inspection of a bottle of red lacquer with a small crack on its bottle, memories of last nights feverish reunion of kisses passed through her mind, and Jade briefly remembered being pressed against the sink where the bottle must have been disturbed, Roy's mouth everywhere and Jade wasn't even going to begin to think about where his hands had been.

"So?" Roy replied, watching her from his spot at the doorway, almost innocently. She, in turn, rolled her pale emerald eyes, hating his ridiculous game of pretend. He knew her, really truly knew her. They had discovered each others identities long into the game of cat and mouse, and Roy himself had been poisoned by her nails digging into his back more times than he could count. It was usually her fault, not washing her hands as thoroughly as she should have or getting too caught up with the pure emotion of seeing him. He had gotten used to the poison somewhat after about the fifth time getting it in his system, so she didn't panic as much as she used to when he would lie in the bed, a cold sweat appearing on his forehead while she rustled through antidotes, exclaiming that she was a killer and didn't need antidotes to kill.

"Do you want the maid to die?" She countered his earlier question, rolling her eyes as she examined the dried polish. This was not going to be simple to get off.

"Not really, though I'm a bit questionable on whether hotels really wash the sheets or not," he replied, his own mossy colored eyes meeting hers with a teasing sparkle as she let out a sigh. Why couldn't he ever be serious?

"I need you to leave me alone today, lover. You can't be downtown, promise me this," she insisted, giving him an almost pleading look, out of character for the cold blooded assassin, but this redhead had captured more than just her eye.

Roy simply grinned at her, making her angrier with every passing second. He was so stubborn, so unbelievable at times that she wanted to scream at him, he was always so reckless. One moment he was making her feel like there was a way out, and moments later he made her realize that she would never escape. He was her solace and her sojourn, her aggravation and her reminder that she had work to do. They would never be together, they both knew that. Coincidence brought them together, brought their lust to the foreground, and that was all there was; lust.

She scowled at him, trying to clean the dried polish off the top of the sink, definitely not wanting any of its deadly properties to be found by any of the hotel staff, at least not this early in the game, not until she made her leave. Of course, the room was registered under Roy's name, and that could pose a problem…Jade let out another sigh.

"You're really going to just stand there and watch me try to get this crap off the sink, Roy Harper? You're such a typical male," Jade scowled, glaring over at him as he smirked back at her.

"Damn straight," he replied, sending her his infamous cocky grin before glancing towards the television where a bottle-blonde reporter was cheerfully standing outside a crowd of people in front of the White House.

"In ten minutes the president will be making an appearance outside of his home for a brief press conference outside with civilians where he will then proceed to the Capital building," she began cheerfully, the wind blowing at her hair. It seemed to be all in an instant the reporter's voice froze and all time stopped. Jade dropped the bottle into the sink, her gaze traveling to the television and all was still for a brief moment.

The moment ended as quickly as it came, and both dove for the main living area. Roy struggled to get his pants and shirt off, getting into uniform while Jade followed close behind, pushing past Roy towards the window.

"Last chance Jade, don't do this," Roy warned, slipping his mask into place as she glanced over her shoulder at him, the window blowing her black hair past her, fading into the shadows that she would soon meld into and framed her face, causing Roy's breath to catch slightly.

"Don't go downtown, Red Arrow," she replied, jumping off the balcony and into the morning's embrace, the last flicker of ebony hair merging with the shadows below.

Roy William Harper never did do well with commands.

Upon arriving to the Capital building, Red Arrow pushed through the crowds of people, searching for a cat's shadow. The crowd was thick by then; reporters, civilians and families lined the steps to the great monument, awaiting the president's arrival.

Making his way close enough to the front, the next few moments couldn't have happened faster. In a split second, with the gracefulness only a feline could possess, Cheshire had a knife to the President's throat, one by one his bodyguards fell dead to the floor, poisonous foam extruding from their necks and backs.

Before anyone could scream, Red Arrow was on the steps, his bow cocked in Cheshire's direction. "Drop him, Cheshire," he called out, aiming straight towards the center of her psychotic mask. The toothy grin seemed to taunt him, the painted eyes bearing into his soul as he stared her down through his own mask.

Their fighting was almost trancelike, graceful like a ballroom dance. Though, one false move on either person's part in this dance would prove fatal, especially with Cheshire's crimson nails freshly painted with the venom of some snake, or a spider perhaps. Either way, Red Arrow didn't want to find out.

He lured her towards the sidelines, away from the President. To anyone observing, it would seem like a typical fight between the super villain and the super hero, but this was far from what it seemed.

She knocked him down, digging her heel into the soft curve of his ribs. He smirked, admiring the angle of her legs as she kicked him hard in the side.

"Nice legs," he muttered, getting to his feet, his gaze almost playful as she glanced towards him. Whoops, she heard him all right. He had just enough time to raise his bow in defense before she ran at him, claws poised to strike. Wood chipped off his bow, and they both knew it wouldn't last another attack like that.

"Cheshire."

"Red Arrow."

"You're not getting away with this," Red Arrow warned, his mask narrowing as he raised his bow towards her. The assassin took a slight step back, smirking under her mask before slicing at his bow with her deadly nails, one of them coming centimeters from his exposed flesh.

"Tell your leader he may have his day of celebration and honor. But tomorrow he may not be so lucky," she hissed, her deadly nail pressed gently to his skin, almost lovingly before she backed up, ready to make her escape.

"And every time, Cheshire, I'll be there to stop you," he replied before she jumped off the stairs, disappearing into the night where she would wait for him once more.

They were enemies, they were lovers. She was evil, he was good. The balance between the duo would never even out as long as they continued to hunt each other by day and embrace each other by night. Two hunters, two separate paths, a star-crossed love that would never succeed. A love they both knew would be over one day, like February wind.