It had been a few years since Rachel had woken up next to someone. She was being cuddled like she was a teddy bear, soft breath on the back of her neck. She blinked over at her clock, and had about eighteen minutes before the alarm went off. That prompted a soft groan of protest and she held Jack's hand tighter between her breasts, tilting her head to gently kiss his forearm where it rested under her cheek.

The only response that elicited was Jack holding her a little tighter; he must have been still asleep, though his body was just beginning to notice she was there. Rachel regretted not putting nightclothes on, but there was nothing she could do about it now. Still, she didn't want him to be any more embarrassed than he was likely to be when he woke up, so she shifted out of his grasp and sat up. She was reaching for the robe she'd left on the floor when her doorbell went off.

Rachel frowned as she slipped it on and belted it, then slid into her green dinosaur slippers before padding quietly out to the living room. Jack shifted in the bed behind her, a faint mumble coming from him. Rachel tiptoed to the door and looked through the peephole, and was both mortified and grateful as she opened the door to Alfred's smiling face.

"I thought that after yesterday, you might like a nice breakfast this morning," he told her, holding up two insulated bags, "so I took the liberty of coming over. I do hope I'm not intruding."

She bit back tears and hugged him tightly, and if Alfred was startled, all he did was return the warm embrace. "No, Alfred, you're never intruding." She stepped back with a sniff and let him in. "Please be quiet, though. Jack's still sleeping."

She got a fatherly kiss on the forehead. "I shall be quiet as a mouse, my dear." Rachel picked up her vase and set it back where it belonged as Alfred moved to her dining room before following him, a smile spreading across her face as he pulled out a thermos of hot cocoa.

"You're the best, Alfred." She gladly took the cup he poured for her.

"I do try," was his somewhat modest reply. "If I'd known Mr. Napier was staying over, I would have brought more food."

He was still busy arranging the place settings and food to his satisfaction, and his tone was conversational and a little apologetic. Rachel sighed, feeling like her father had caught her boyfriend sleeping over. Which . . . was sort of what had just happened.

"It wasn't planned." Now Alfred did turn to her, his eyebrows raised and a stern look on his face as he opened his mouth. Rachel realised how he had taken her words and went red. "No, Alfred, we didn't . . . look, he had an . . . incident last night, and I couldn't leave him alone."

That mollified the older man and he turned back to breakfast. "I see. Did he do that to your lip?"

She touched her lip gently and it only hurt a little. "Yes," she whispered. "But I'm okay, Alfred."

"That lip says otherwise, dear." Now he stood in front of her, tilting her chin up to look at the wound with pursed lips.

"It was the worst fit I've ever seen him throw, but you should have seen the way he ran away from me," Rachel defended herself. "His psychiatrist helped me find him, and he approved of Jack staying here."

Alfred watched her for a moment. "Rachel, you know I would never pry into your affairs, but I'm not sure I can approve of a man who tries to bite your lip in two."

Rachel smiled, still tired. "There's not really a way to explain things without sounding like I've got Stockholm Syndrome," she admitted, "but just listen, all right?" He nodded and sat across from her at the table, hands folded in front of him as she went over the previous night's events. Her alarm went off partway through the story, but it shut off soon after.

Alfred rubbed his chin as she wrapped up her tale. "I see. I admit, I had thought things were quite different between you two, otherwise I would have offered Dr. Morgenson's advice. I know you're the D.A., Rachel, and that Gotham needs to trust you, but I believe Mr. Napier had a point that not everyone needs to know when you're seeing someone." He shrugged. "You've been an amazing help to this city, my dear, and I believe that if you put your trust in Mr. Napier, Gotham will eventually follow. He might never be a hero, but I don't think the backlash will be as bad as you fear." Then he looked past her. "Ah . . ."

Rachel whipped around to see Jack standing at her bedroom door, her sheet wrapped around his waist. She jumped up as Alfred sat back. "Jack! Your clothes are in the dryer." He watched her as she hurried to said dryer, pulling the clean outfit out and rushing back to him. "Ah . . . if you get dressed, I'll introduce you." She pressed the bundle to his chest and he looked down at her, face completely neutral. "Please?" Rachel whispered with a smile. Jack kept looking between her and Alfred, so she rested her hand on his cheek and kissed him gently. "It's all right, Jack. Alfred's an old friend. He brought us breakfast."

The drugs must have still been in his system, because Jack didn't say a thing as he took the clothes and closed the door. Rachel looked over at Alfred with a frown.

"Would it be best, perhaps, if I left?"

She shook her head. "I want him to meet you." Her heart was pounding, wondering what Alfred must be thinking. "He's really wonderful, Alfred."

"Abusive temper tantrums aside, I'm assuming." She flinched and her friend patted her hand. "Since this is the first I've heard of him harming you, Rachel, I promise to withhold judgment until I know him better. Here, I believe that if you don't mind smaller portions, I can split this all in half."

He busied himself with re-portioning the food, and they shared a smile as the bedroom door opened and Jack strode out, running his fingers through his messy hair. He cleared his throat as he stepped into the dining room.

"Ah . . . I'm sorry about that," he said as Rachel reached out for him. "I hadn't realised Rachel had . . . more guests over." He hesitated, one hand clenching, and Alfred smiled as he offered his hand.

"It's no problem, Mr. Napier," he said as they shook briefly. "I'm Alfred Pennyworth; I've known Rachel since she was a little girl."

Jack's eyebrows raised slightly. "You're that Alfred," he mused. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Then he frowned as his gaze flicked between Rachel and the bedroom. "Ah . . . I promise, I didn't touch her. I mean, well, I don't think ---"

"I trust Rachel's judgment," Alfred interrupted smoothly. "She's well able to make her own decisions; you don't have to explain anything to me. I am merely the butler, after all."

"With a military record, who could probably take me out at a thousand yards," Jack replied lightly, "so yes, I think it's in my best interest to stay on your good side, sir."

Alfred chuckled as he poured more cocoa for the both of them. Jack sat next to Rachel and she slid her hand under the table, groping for his. He gave her a quick glance before opening his hand for her to hold. "Oh, it's been years since I've picked up a rifle," he assured Jack. "Though I was, indeed, quite the marksman."

"That's not comforting at all."

Alfred turned back to him with a plate of food, setting it down with a beatific smile. "It wasn't meant to be, Mr. Napier." Jack raised his eyebrows at Rachel as she received her own plate, and she smiled at him. "Although I do expect that any intimate contact between you two be undertaken only after the strictest contraceptive measures have been taken."

"Alfred!" Rachel burst out as Jack almost coughed cocoa out his nose. They were both flushing.

"Not that it's any of my business," the butler went on. "I simply feel that I'm too young to have grandchildren, is all."

"You have great-grandchildren," Rachel reminded him tartly.

"So I do," Alfred said, as if it had just been revealed to him. "I also don't wish to have to face Master Bruce with that news." He smiled at their discomfort and patted Rachel's head. "But I trust you to be a good girl."

"Alfred likes to tease," Rachel explained as she glared at the man.

Jack was concentrating on his food. "I have to be at Dr. Morgenson's at nine," was all he said, clearly intent on pretending that the last few minutes hadn't happened.

Rachel squeezed his hand as she returned to her own meal. "Do you need a ride? I have to be in the office by eight."

". . . Oh."

"I should be more than glad to escort Mr. Napier wherever he wishes to go," Alfred offered as he came out of the kitchen. "With Master Bruce in Vegas this week, I find I have too much time on my hands."

"What, you want time to threaten me in private?" Jack asked, but his words held no bite.

Rachel didn't hear Alfred's reply as she got up to get Jack's medications, but it made him laugh, and she smiled. If Alfred approved of him, it would make dealing with Bruce easier. She still didn't want the two to have much contact. If Jack somehow pieced together that Bruce was Batman, she didn't know if his fragile mental stability would be able to handle it. That thought worried her as she decided it was time she got dressed and brushed her teeth.

"--- back into Arkham if I ever do anything like that again," Jack was murmuring earnestly as she came back into the dining room.

"A splendid plan, Jack," Alfred nodded with approval. "I admit, after Rachel told me what happened I wasn't too keen on you being near her, but I find myself more comfortable with the idea now."

"Thank you," Jack murmured when she handed him his morning pills. He swallowed them with a swig of cocoa, then took the napkin Alfred offered instead of wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "Sorry." He looked up at Rachel then, his gaze sweeping over her body. ". . . Wow."

She laughed and shook her head as she scratched his own. He groaned and leaned into the contact. "It's just an everyday work outfit." What came out in reply was in no way understandable, just a mindless string of vowels and consonants, and Rachel laughed again. "It's good to know a man's weaknesses," she purred.

Alfred was clearing the dishes. "Indeed it is. While you reduce him to a helpless puddle, Rachel, I hope you realise you have twenty minutes to get to work."

"Call in sick?" Jack moaned hopefully.

"I left early yesterday; I can't skip today." She leaned down and kissed his cheek, but he moved his head to press their lips together. Rachel sighed and let him pull her into his lap, and they held each other tightly until Alfred's gentle cough made Jack pull back. "I have to see Dr. Morgenson at five," she whispered as she slid off of his lap.

"Come over after?" he asked, hands still grasping her waist. He looked up at her pleadingly and Rachel smiled as she nodded.

"I will." She moved his hands and kissed him again, lightly. "Be good for Alfred."

"I promise."

He turned in his chair to watch as she hugged Alfred. "Thank you so much," she whispered in her old friend's ear.

"It's my pleasure, Rachel. I'll take good care of him. Now, you'd best be on your way."

"I'm going, I'm going," Rachel said as she paused for another kiss from Jack, and the smile that was on his face as she left warmed her all throughout the day.

***

"I can't . . . get in there." Napier was shaking his head as Alfred held the back door of the car open for him.

"Of course you can," Alfred told him briskly. "I told Rachel I'd take good care of you, and so I shall. Now, in you go."

"Ah, no, you don't understand. I mean, this is a big ego boost, thank you, but I really don't deserve to be chauffeured all around Gotham." Alfred simply stood there with the door open, a pleasant and above all unmovable expression on his face.

"Then it's a good thing we're not going all around, isn't it?" he was asked politely. "Just to your appointment, then back to your apartment. Unless you would like to buy Rachel a birthday present while we're out."

Jack faltered. "A birthday present?"

He was gently shoved into the car and Alfred closed the door firmly, not answering until they were pulling out of the parking garage.

"Her birthday is next month. I would have thought she had told you. No matter," the butler continued, "we'll find her a present and I'll be sure to add you to the guest list."

"Guest list?"

"Indeed, sir." He'd been requested to call Napier by his first name, but old habits died hard. "Master Bruce is throwing her a birthday party. Do you have a meal preference?"

"None of that vegetarian crap Rachel eats," Jack replied faintly. "I'm sorry, but I get the feeling she's trying to keep me away from . . . him. I don't think I should go to the party unless he invites me."

Alfred smiled in the rear-view mirror. "Ah, but this is Rachel's party, sir, not Master Bruce's. She'll invite whomever she pleases, and I can't see her leaving you out. Now, do you have dress-casual attire?"

"Uh . . . I have one suit," Napier replied.

Alfred nodded. "Then we'll see about getting you a new outfit, as well."

That snapped the other man out of his shock and he leaned forward. "Now wait a minute, Mr. Pennyworth ---"

"Alfred will do."

"I don't have the money for a new suit," Napier pressed on. "I'm barely making rent as it is."

"I'm aware of that, sir," Alfred assured him. "You won't be paying for the suit. Consider it a gift, if you will, from Wayne Corporation for your continued progress in reintegrating into society. I'll hear no protests," he cut Napier off. "You need to make as good an impression on Master Bruce as possible, and I know just the tailor to go to."

Napier sat back, raising his hands in defeat and Alfred smiled to himself.

"Can I at least make her present myself?" he was asked irritably a few minutes later.

"Of course you may, sir."

"Actually . . . there's something I want to get framed."

"We'll stop by your apartment to get it after your appointment, then the framer's." Napier nodded with a sigh, silent until he'd been dropped off at Dr. Morgenson's office. "I'll be back in an hour to pick you up."

"Thanks," he said, reaching out to shake Alfred's hand. He watched the man leave, then headed up the steps and was greeted by his psychiatrist at the door.

"How are you, Jack?"

"I'm an idiot," he groaned as he followed Morgenson inside.

"Why is that?"

He hesitated. "I told Rachel I love her last night."

Morgenson gestured for him to sit and then took his own seat, leaning forward. "And why does that make you an idiot?"

"Because I was all doped up." He curled his hands into fists and rapped them on the arms of the chair. "I . . . I didn't want to tell her yet. I mean, I wanted it to be . . . special, I guess."

"And how did she react?"

"Uh . . . I think . . . I don't really remember. She still let me stay over, and she kissed me this morning . . ." He scratched his head. "I think she gave me a bath. I remember water. Fuck, first time I could have seen her naked, and I was out of it."

"What have I told you about swearing?"

"Not to?" Jack guessed. He was given a stern look and shrugged. "I'll work on it. More, I mean. I'm assuming she bathed me . . . I woke up clean and naked, at any rate. Bruce Wayne's butler was there. He . . . well, he doesn't disapprove of me, at any rate. He brought her breakfast. She kissed me in front of him. Ffff . . . darn it, it's her birthday next month and apparently Wayne's throwing her a party that I'm apparently supposed to go to." He was shifting in his chair as his thoughts spilled out. "And Alfred --- the butler --- said he'd buy me a suit for it, a 'gift' from Wayne Corporation for fitting in to society so good." Then he snorted. "Right. I almost bite Rachel's lip off, and I'm fitting in 'good.' God daaaaa-arn it all."

Morgenson just smiled. "And what do you plan to do the next time you get that angry around Rachel?" he asked lightly.

Jack tilted back in his chair, the front two legs coming off the ground as he rubbed his eyes. "I told Alfred I'd check myself back into Arkham if it happened again."

"And what about your immediate response?"

"Well . . . Uhm . . . run away? That seemed to work last night. I mean, but before she gets hurt."

"And . . . ?"

"And . . . call you?"

"That would be advisable." Morgenson tapped his desk thoughtfully. "Please don't take this as an attack, Jack, but the one thing I really wish Harleen had worked on with you is how you interact with others on a daily basis." His eyes tightened at his dead wife's name. "People are going to make you angry, and force you into situations that you don't want to be in. Harleen got around that problem by not letting you out very often, but that did nothing to solve the issue at hand."

"I don't want to socialise with people," Jack said defensively.

"If you want to continue your relationship with Rachel, you'll have to," was the calm reply. "I understand that you find your fellow humans tiring, Jack, but an effort is going to have to be made to successfully interact with them. You've expressed a desire to take Rachel out on the town --- what are you going to do if someone jostles you, or the food takes a little longer than you think it ought to? What if there's an unexpected waiting list, or the movie is sold out?" From the look on Jack's face, he hadn't anticipated any of those scenarios. "At the very least, it will embarrass Rachel if you lose your temper in public."

Jack ran his hand down his face. "Shit, I hadn't thought of that."

"I know. I'm going to suggest that you and Rachel start going out together to uncrowded places, for short periods of time. Daily outings to Jamba Juice don't count," he said as Jack opened his mouth.

"Darn it."

"You need to be in social situations where you aren't expected to interact with anyone but Rachel. I want you to get used to just being around people for the time being, and then we'll work on talking to them."

"Uh . . . should I apologise for telling her I love her?"

"Are you sorry?"

"Well . . . no. I mean, I wanted to be clear-headed when I told her, but . . ."

"Then maybe that's what you should say."

". . . Oh." He chewed on his lip. "Look, Doctor, I'm . . . I'm a little worried."

Morgenson leaned forward again. "About what, Jack?"

He twisted his hands together, frowning as he looked off to the side. "Ah . . . well, I mean, Rachel's kissing me . . . she's said she wants me, but . . . I mean, when we --- if we . . . go to bed, then . . . I don't want to hurt her," he finished in a rush. His face was flushed and he was breathing heavily, agitated about what he was trying to ask.

"I think that's something you'll have to bring up with Rachel, Jack," he was told gently. "If both of you make the decision to have sex, then you'll both be responsible for finding out what the other likes, as well as communicating your own likes and dislikes, and you'll probably have to negotiate a little."

"I doubt she'll want to bite me until I bleed," Jack said sourly.

"Maybe. I don't know, Jack. I'm sure, though, that if you're clear with her, you'll both be able to come to mutually satisfying common ground. Also . . ." Jack looked up, and Morgenson raised a warning finger. "Do not go to bed with Rachel if she's not sober. I'm serious, Jack," he said when the man started to open his mouth. "If you want Rachel to know how much you value her, you'll keep your hands to yourself if she's been drinking. Even if she's willing, tell her that you both need to wait until she's sober. It will be hard, yes --- it's always hard to deny the woman you love anything. But it will be worth it, and I promise you she'll appreciate it. Now. Do I have your word on this?"

Jack was silent, swallowing as he stared at Dr. Morgenson. Finally he nodded. "Yeah. Yes. I promise I won't sleep with Rachel unless she's sober."

That brought a sigh of relief to the psychiatrist's lips and he nodded with a smile. They moved on to other topics, and when Alfred pulled up to the curb again Jack was sitting on the stairs, waiting. They were silent as the other errands were run, throughout the fitting for Jack's new suit, and Jack thanked Alfred quietly when he was dropped off at his apartment for the day.

Alfred assured him it was no problem, and watched the man walk inside before heading back to Wayne Manor.