Yeah -so it's almost the end of february, and I'm just posting this now ... honestly the story just kind of evolved in my head, so I ran with it. enjoy-Akuiku

Barbara hated Valentines Day and everything it stood for, hated the overwhelming sense of loneliness which would creep up upon her. Any other time she could forget, she could delude herself into believing that everything was fine, immerse herself in training or patrolling. She was a strong independent woman, who didn't need anyone else to take care of her. Love would only complicate her life.

At least that was what she told herself for the other eleven months of the year.

Come February the whole world seemed to have fallen in love, red hearts dotted the storefront windows of downtown Gotham, sweethearts' hand-in-hand crowding the sidewalks.

It was depressing really . . . being constantly reminded that she was single, lonely, and completely without any romantic prospects whatsoever.

Rene liked to joke every year that Valentines day was really Single's Awareness day . . . it was funny and self-deprecating, and it always managed to make Barbara feel better . . . at least it had until this year when a bouquet of roses was delivered to the precinct for Officer Rene Montoya . . . suddenly things didn't seem quite as funny.

Barbara found herself almost regretting that her father had given up on his matchmaking schemes, it had been years since the last time he'd tried to set her up with some suite from the District Attorney's Office. At least then she had something to look forward to . . .

He'd asked her if she had any plans for today - and she'd lied, told him she had a date. It was useless Barbara realized later, her father could always see though her, so he had to have known the truth. But he'd let it go, like he always did when her pride was at stake, and she loved him all the more for it.

She'd decided to walk home from work - because frankly she didn't have anything better to do. Barbara ambled slowly down the sidewalk, ignoring the advertisements for flowers and candy, rolling her eyes at the abundant public displays of affection occurring all around her. She passed some popular Italian place on main street, tried to ignore the couples eagerly awaiting their tables, and managed to walk right into a man as he exited the building.

"Oh - sorry, I wasn't . . . Barbara ?" She'd inwardly cringed at the familiar voice, eyes fixating on the cement of the sidewalk.

Naturally - it had to be Bruce . . . because a day from hell wouldn't be complete without colliding into a brick wall.

She couldn't look him in the eye, he'd realize the smile she was wearing was forced. Like her father, she could never lie to him - he would always see right through her.

"Hi Bruce, my fault - completely oblivious to the world around me."

He frowned right away, and she cursed under her breath, that was a bit over the top. His eyes narrowed, and Barbara seemed to shrink right in front of him, she felt like he was looking right through her.

"I get it, too perky - just stop looking at me like that . . . it's creepy . . . " The last part she'd added on as an after thought, and it had its desired effect, forcing Bruce to blink and mumble an apology as he looked away.

She sighed, catching a few curious glances from passers by, wondering just what it was about Bruce Wayne that people found so fascinating . . . sure he was rich, handsome, and at the moment unattached . . . but really what was so interesting about that.

She glanced around hesitantly, finding the ever growing line at the nearby restaurant full of couples who kept looking at them every so often. This was why she tried to limit her appearances in public with Bruce . . . because they always led to disaster, embarrassment, and an article in the society pages about how they were in some secret relationship . . . one time they'd actually dared to claim she was his mistress . . . suffice it to say, Bruce had sued - and they'd been left relatively alone for a while now. Barbara didn't care to push her luck, and after seeing a flash of the camera out of the corner of her eye, she groaned at the thought of tomorrow's papers.

"I should go - I want to get home before it's too dark."

Apparently that had been the wrong thing to say because Bruce looked at her like she had three heads.

"You're walking home from work."

Barbara shrugged nonchalantly, wondering what the big problem was - she was batgirl after all, it's not like she couldn't take care of herself.

"I'll be fine."

She went to turn away, but he stopped her, placing a hand upon her shoulder.

"Of corse you will be - Alfred was just pulling the car around, we'll give you a ride home."

She hated when he did that, when he made her decisions for her. A voice in the back of her head replied that he was simply trying to be gentlemanly. She ignored it, seeing this as a welcome way to get out some of her pent up rage and hostility.

"You're joking right." She saw the glint in his eye, that annoyingly arrogant look he got when he thought he had already won.

"It's not like it's out of the way." She wanted to hit him when he smiled, it was that idiot grin he wore at every society function, that look which was supposed to make women swoon. She'd always found it irritating instead of attractive, considered it an insult upon her intelligence when he used it on her, and if she was completely honest the look itself always made her skin crawl.

Alfred had long ago pulled up to the curb beside them, silently waiting by the door to usher them into the backseat of Bruce's Rolls Royce, the smirk he was trying to hide did not go unnoticed by Barbara. Bruce on the other hand seem oblivious to Alfred and the growing audience they seemed to have acquired.

"Bruce - you live on the cliffs over looking the harbor - about thirty minutes that way . . . I live in an apartment building in a less then affluent neighbor hood - twenty minutes that way . . . it couldn't be any more out of the way unless it was in Bludhaven!"

She'd actually growled out the last part of that statement, not that it had really affected Bruce whatsoever.

" Now you're just trying to be difficult."

That was what Bruce had said under his breath, as he began forcing Barbara toward his car. Alfred remained silent, pulling open the backdoor for them and closing it once they had settled into the backseat. He pulled out into rush hour traffic, beginning their journey toward her apartment building.

Barbara did her best to ignore Bruce, glaring out at the passing scenery, as he sat beside her watching the latest news from the stock exchange. She hated how he could always seem so unaffected, yet here she was fuming because he had offered her a ride home, perhaps Bruce was simply unaware of how petty he made her feel sometimes.

"No hot date for Valentines Day."

She hadn't meant to say that aloud, least of all for it to come out sounding so bitter, Bruce actually seemed taken aback for a moment.

"No - not this year . . . I had a meeting which ran late . . . lunch with the head of a company I'm thinking of buying overseas . . . I was just getting out of it when I ran into you . . . I had Alfred cancel my date with . . . "

Bruce frowned, and Barbara wondered if he had really forgotten the name of his date, or if this was a show he was putting on for her.

Alfred's voice broke in from the front of the car, reminding them both that he was with them.

"Bambi sir . . . the young woman you were supposed to go out with tonight, was named Bambi . . . "

An odd look crossed over Bruce's face and she could just picture him trying to figure out why anyone would name their child Bambi.

"Maybe her parents were big fans of Disney . . . " Barbara congratulated herself for not allowing the rest of her statement to be said aloud, the part where she also considered the possibility of "Bambi" being a stripper.

"Either that or she's a stripper." Barbara couldn't believe he had said that, let alone kept a straight face while saying it, and for the first time that day she actually found herself laughing.

"Oh come on, you know you were thinking it too . . . " Bruce said with a shrug, his gaze traveling away from the television for a moment to settle upon her, a hint of a smile just tugging at his lips.

"So what are your plans for tonight."

At his question her mood immediately soured, she frowned looking away from him.

" Nothing - absolutely nothing . . . " She trailed off, eyes once again gazing out at the stop and go traffic, cursing herself for ever getting into the car in the first place.

"I'm sorry I wasn't trying to-"

She held up a hand, stopping him before he could fully apologize. "It's find Bruce . . . I wouldn't want to mess up Singles Awareness Day by actually having a date."

There was a chuckle from the front seat, looking up Barbara caught Bruce glaring at Alfred in the review mirror.

"Singles Awareness Day . . . ?" He asked somewhat hesitantly, eyes locked on Alfred, almost daring him to laugh again.

"Yeah - that's what Rene used to call Valentines day . . . It's a joke, used to make me feel better about being alone . . . she didn't use it this year . . . whoever she's seeing had a bouquet of roses sent to the station for her . . . " He was staring at her, she could feel it, but she refused to look over at him . . . the last thing she wanted was his pity.

"Valentines Day isn't just about dating, it's supposed to be about all the people you love."

Well apparently she'd managed to gain his pity anyway... look at that, Bruce Wayne trying to console poor little Barbara Gordon - he's so charitable.

Those were spiteful thoughts, none of which he deserved, Barbara realized. He really was only trying to make her feel better, not belittle her...

"I lied to my father - told him I had a date... he knew I was lying but he let it go..." Barbara honestly didn't know why she had told him that, other then the fact that she had no one else to tell.

"When I was younger he used to set me up with guys from the DA's office... he gave up on it years ago... I actually found myself missing it today ... how pathetic it that."

Very rarely did Barbara get the chance to be honest with herself, or anyone else for that matter. It was comforting in a way, to relay her jumbled thoughts to Bruce. She was too caught up to notice the looks Bruce and Alfred were sending each other, nor did she hear the partition rise obscuring their conversation from Alfred.

"It's not pathetic - at least I don't think it's pathetic..." It was startling how soft his voice had become, she almost didn't recognize it.

She tried to laugh it off, ignore the tone of seriousness which seemed to have overtaken their conversation. "Yeah right, this coming from Gotham's most sought after man."

Bruce however, seemed to have other ideas ...

"Have the women ever meant anything to me Barbara?"

She remained silent, staring down idly at her hands, wondering how to reply. In the background she could just make out the chatter of the television, low and jumbled, and her eyes darted over to the screen in time to see Summer Gleeson give a report.

"You mean the women you sleep with or the women you pretend to date . . . " He went stiff in his seat beside her, and perhaps she wasn't playing fair, that was a bit below the belt.

The problem was Bruce had a habit of picking up strays . . . and she wasn't talking about Dick or Tim . . .

Broken women seemed to always find their way into his bed . . . Andrea, Talia, Selina - to name a few. Each with their own sordid pasts which inevitably always caught up with them, and in the end they'd always betray him . . . sometimes Barbara wondered why he would keep taking them back, even when he knew it would end badly.

"Who I sleep with is none of your business."

An awkward silence settled upon them. Bruce tense - his eyes glued to the television screen, Barbara remorseful - eyes gazing sullenly down at her hands once more. She'd assumed that was the end of their talk, in most cases Bruce would completely shut down after a remark like the one she had just made. So she was surprised when Bruce spoke a few minutes later, breaking their silence.

" ... I was referring to the women I "pretend" to date . . . "

Barbara sighed, reluctantly turning to face Bruce again. "I know what you meant Bruce."

He went to say something but stopped, sighing he stared off into nothingness for a few minutes before turning toward her again.

"Love isn't something you can control Barbara, it's not something you can turn on and off with a switch. Do you think I've enjoyed getting my heart ripped to shreds, becoming old and jaded . . . maybe I'm a fool, but I'll cling to my comforts any way I can now."

Well that explained why he kept making the same mistakes over and over again . . .

"That doesn't really seem fair." She'd spoken the words before she'd even had a chance to think about what it was he had said.

"My life was never fair Barbara. You of all people should understand that."

Nodding wordlessly, Barbara tried to come up with something appropriate to say. She wasn't used to being subject to this side of Bruce, especially not for such a long period of time. It was Bruce in his simplest form - not the batman, or the playboy, or the orphan . . . just Bruce.

This was the man she was loyal to . . . This was the man who had won her utmost respect.

"You'd think with everything we've given up . . . the universe would at least give us something - just a little bit of happiness in this sea of darkness."

"That's not how life works Barbara . . . you don't get something just because you deserve it . . . you have to work for the things you want - and even then they're always fleeting."

They pulled up in front of her apartment building, the engine shut off, as Alfred made his way around the car to open the door for her. They were silent again, and Barbara forced herself to look at the man sitting beside her, frowning when her gaze met his.

"For what it's worth, you've always meant something to me Barbara."

And from the look in his eyes she knew it was true, and heartfelt, and coming from Bruce that was absolutely terrifying. Because he didn't get happy endings, or peace of mind, he got train wrecks - gruesome, horrible train wrecks.

Her door opened, Alfred stood waiting to help her out of the car, but she didn't move. She was home, all she had to do was get out of the car and go back to her empty apartment. But suddenly that wasn't so appealing to Barbara . . . neither was spending the rest of her life alone, clinging to past mistakes out of nothing more then familiarity.

She surprised Bruce by placing her hand over his, leaning toward him and brushing her lips across his cheek. "You have no idea how much that means to me Bruce."

She smiled, giving his hand a squeeze before stepping out of the car, all the while ignoring the bemused expression on Alfred's face. She glanced back at Bruce, frowning when she found him staring blankly into space. She was struck by a startling thought, one which she wasn't sure she should bother voicing.

"Bruce . . . " He blinked looking over at her as she spoke. " I was thinking - since your plans fell through - and I'm alone . . . how about we spend Valentines together."