A tired mumble of complaint escaped Farrah's lips as she turned and hugged her pillow, nuzzling her forehead against the soft cotton with a yawn.

At least... she did until she realized that her pillow was breathing.

Her head shot up and she groggily checked to make sure she wasn't using one of the dogs as a pillow because, while she oft did, her babies were still healing. And she would hate to end up laying on a bullet hole: chances were, the dogs would allow her to do so without complaint.

Luckily, that wasn't the case... It was just Damian. She dropped her head back on his chest, when a thought hit her.

Damian, as fond as she was of him, was not supposed to be there. And not to mention, she couldn't quite remember the night before, yet...

A loud yelp ripped from Farrah's throat as she jerked back, away from Damian, but also off of the bed and onto the floor.

Curses spilled out of her mouth as she grimaced in pain. "Fuck me, that kinda hurt," she rasped as Damian and two furry faces popped over her bed and looked at her bewilderedly.

"What the f-" Damian started, only to shake his head to himself and heave an exasperated sigh. "Dare I ask...?"

"Fuck," Far whined in her groggy state of despair, "I dun wanna be on Teen Mom. I can't even fuckin' remember the daggon sex; what the hell..."

The boy gave her a look. "What are you going on about...?"

"I told my folks that if'n I ever got pregnant, I'd go on that dumb-ass television show, an' I can't fuckin' recall last night, an' yer in my bed, an' the worst part is: I can't even remember the daggon sex!" She glared up at the ceiling. "That should be the least ya could a' done fer me, big man; I've dealt with a lotta shit since I came here, you could at least let me remember the night I did it with mister grumpy pants! If'n it wasn't good, at the very least, I would a' had good teasin' material!"

An insulted look crossed Damian's face, and he rolled his eyes. "You think that I would...?" He shook his head and snorted, raising a brow. "Absolutely not. For one, you were so hallucinative, you thought that Thor's claws were bacon. It was... a bit of a turn off, really." His lips twitched up as he gave an amused gaze at her blush before continuing, "And for another, if I were to do that, I can assure you that you would certainly have remembered it and probably the best you've ever had."

She grinned, despite herself. "Oh yeah, Mister hot-shot?" He nodded, and she moved to sit up, only to spit a curse under her breath and stop. "Oof... D'ya wanna give me a hand here, or are ya gonna leave me on the ground?"

He rolled his eyes but got up, trudging over and dragging her up. Far lightly headbutted his arm in affection and thanks before ducking under his arm and making her way (albeit a bit slower than she would have preferred) to the kitchen.

Damian gave her a look. "You should probably stay in bed..."

With a shrug, she pulled the door open, biting back a grimace as a stab of pain hit her shoulder before peeking into the hallway. "Probably," She agreed. "But I do what I want, an', quite frankly, I'm daggon sick a' lookin' at that stupid fuckin' room. I'm a lil' sore - not dyin', thank you very much." She turned and told her mutts firmly, "Stay."

"I hope you know that I could make you, if I so chose." Damian reminded her as he followed her out of the room.

"I know you could." She assured him. And that was the end of it. She trusted him not to, and she (hoped) that he trusted her well enough to know that she wouldn't push herself too far past her limits for once.

And it worked, thankfully. He let her go without so much as a complaint.

Farrah rubbed her neck with a yawn as she ambled into the kitchen, tapping the half-full pot of coffee and looking at Damian questioningly. "Did you make this...?" When he nodded, her brows rose. "Huh... Wasn't sure you'd know how, what with yer butler an' what not," She hummed quietly as she pulled out a mug and poured it into the cup. The girl hadn't intended to be insulting or anything, but...

"What's that supposed to mean?" Damian asked, a scowl coming over his face, making that lovely calm and contented little smile that Farrah liked so much, disappear.

The redneck frowned as she ran over what she just said in her head, mentally cursing herself as she shuffled over and leaned against his chest with a whine. "Noo... don't take that in the wrong way, sugar," She told him weakly, "I wasn't tryin' ta imply nothin', I meant; it's an industrial coffee maker. The kind they use in coffee shops an' junk so there's a load a' buttons ta mash, an' most a' the common riffraff don't know how ta use 'em is all I meant," She assured him earnestly, "I know that sounded right bad, but I didn't mean it like it sounded."

He grunted and tried to glare, but gave up and sighed. The girl was always brutally honest, as far as he'd seen, so he figured he had no reason to hold a grudge... "Whatever."

She dared to glance up. The guy wasn't smiling, but he wasn't glaring either. So, as far as she was concerned, she'd saved her hide and figured it would be alright to make some coffee. Damian leaned against the fridge as she made her cup.

"So how tall are you?"

She blinked and looked over at him. "Pardon...?"

"How... tall... are... you...?" He asked slowly, as though he were talking to a slow child. Luckily for him, she didn't really catch it, and settled with pursing her lips in thought.

"Erm... I ain't right sure." Far said a bit sheepishly, idly scratching her arm. "A few years back, I was five two, but I grew some, so... I reckon I'm 'round five six, five seven...? Maybe five eight, if you wanna be generous an' I wanna straighten out my back... What about you?"

"Six foot one." He answered shortly.

Farrah gave a low whistle as she stirred her cup. "Da-yum. I knew you were tall, but I didn't think you were that tall." She gave an experimental sniff of the contents within the cup before giving an approving nod and taking a sip, only to have her eyes widened as she choked on it.

Damian winced, and his cheeks turned light pink as he rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes to the wall. "Is it that bad...? I was quite sure I was doing it right, sorry..."

"That bad?" She repeated, "That bad?!" She put down the cup and gave him a look, despite the fact he wouldn't meet her eyes. "Are you fuckin' yankin' my chain...? This is... this is - it's right amazin', Wayne!" Said boy's face twisted with disbelief as she gave him a goofy grin. "Not as good as mine, a' course, but still; pretty daggon good."

"It is...?" He asked dumbfoundedly.

The girl laughed at his face. "Sho' is, bo'. What'd you do to it...? There's a lil' kick innit, like, uh... cinnamon...?" He nodded and she grinned. "Never thought a' doin' that. An' the thing is: I should a'. I like my coffee, an' I like ta mix it up some..." She playfully punched his shoulder. "Good on ya, bud. I gotta remember that."

As she picked her mug back up, he shook himself out of his surprise and puffed up his chest a bit with pride. "I am pretty talented, aren't I?"

"Yep," she chuckled into her cup, taking a sip, "Modest, too, ain'tcha?"

"But of course." He countered with a smirk, adding, "And let's not forget my dashing good looks."

Far laughed. "Oh yeah, can't forget them. Yer so damn hot, I'm humbled ya gave me the pleasure of hangin' 'round."

"You should be." He snorted before pulling her mug out of her hands and taking a sip. "Smart, talented, good looks, and I make a damn-good cup of coffee. What more could you want?"

The girl gave him an amused look as she fought back laughter. "Money...?"

Damian nodded and pointed a finger at her. "I have that, too."

The two grinned at each other while she hummed in thought. Her eyes lit up before she said smugly, "Patience. Ain't got that, now do ya?"

He scoffed like he was insulted as he passed the cup back to the redneck. "I put up with you. My patience is at the very top of the standard."

She opened her mouth to protest, only to falter before giving a small shrug. She had to give him that one. "Good point... How's about a bright an' sunny personality, then, mister perfect?"

He blinked. "Okay... one thing."

"Still got a pretty good resume, there, Wayne." She laughed. "You ever got yer eye on anyone, let me know, an' I'll brag about ya, 'kay?"

Leaning against the counter and smirking, he raised a brow. "I wouldn't need you to brag about me. If I want someone's affections, I assure you that I can get it. Easily."

"Mm-hmm, sure you can, sugar." Farrah sipped her drink, studying her rather cocky friend before asking curiously, "And ain't you s'posed to be in school...?"

The boy gave her a look. "Do you know what day it is...?"

She shrugged in response. "Not really... I haven't had any reason to keep track."

"It's saturday." He reminded her, reaching over and lightly flicking the back of her head. "As in; school is closed."

"Oh." Far blinked. "My bad..."

She started to say something else, but got cut off by the front door being knocked on. Before Damian could even blink, she put her cup in his hands and was halfway there, calling, "I got it!"

Farrah opened the door. The first thing she saw was a large man with large hands reaching toward her. Needless to say, she promptly shut the door within milliseconds. Not to be rude or anything, understand, it was just a reflex... After a few seconds of silence, with her just staring blankly at the door, she opened it again (just a creak, this time) and peeked through. She didn't get a very good look at the guy, but she could tell he looked confused, and a bit amused.

Dubbing it safe, she opened the door again. "Sorry 'bout that, sir, jus'... all I saw was a big dude reaching towards me, an' that's usually a red flag, y'know?" She idly rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "What can I do ya for?"

The man, a tall, thickly muscled guy in a black suit, with shiny, gelled-back black hair and bright blue eyes smiled. "Not a problem. I heard what happened from Damian, and I could understand why you would be cautious. I'm Bruce Wayne, Damian's father."

Her eyes lit up as she opened the door a little wider. "Oh... you. I heard a bit 'bout you... Apparently yer some big, head-honcho type a' guy...?" She narrowed her eyes a bit in suspicion. "Yer not in, like, the mafia or somethin', are ya...?"

"No," He chuckled. "I own Wayne Enterprises and Batman Inc... Damian didn't mention what I do?"

She shrugged. "I didn't ask, he didn't tell."

"Ah, the old 'don't ask, don't tell' policy?" He smirked. His smirk really reminded the girl of Damian, and she could definitely see where her friend got his good looks.

"The right same, sir." She gestured into her apartment, a bit awkwardly. "D'you... wanna come in...?" The large man nodded and stepped in as she turned and called for her friend. "Erm... Dami, yer kin's here!"

Said teen's head popped from behind the wall that separated the kitchen and living room with a bewildered look. He met his father's eyes and walked from the kitchen to stand besides Farrah. "Father," He greeted coolly. "What are you doing here?"

Bruce smiled and raised a massive shoulder in a half-shrug. "I can't come and meet my son's new friend...?"

"I suppose you could," Damian grunted, shooting his father a warning look. "I would prefer it if you didn't intimidate my friends, though..."

"It's never intentional," The man defended cheekily, "I don't try to be!" He turned to Farrah and flashed her a winning smile, "Am I intimidating?"

Far chuckled. "Nawww... Yer like a giant, muscled teddy bear!"

Damian's eyebrows shot up as Bruce barked a laugh, and he gave the redneck a look. "I... I've heard several descriptions of my father, and that... I've never heard that one, before."

Bruce gave a grin and chuckled. "Neither have I... You sure know how to pick 'em; I like her already."

"Father." Damian hissed, shooting said man a glare as his cheeks dusted pink.

Farrah's brow raised as she leaned closer curiously. "Are you...?" Her eyes lit up, and she laughed. "You are! Yer blushin'! That's adorable!"

The boy scowled and lightly shoved her shoulder. "Shut the fuck up."

She bit back a bark of laughter as she put a hand over her heart. "You wound me, Dami." She turned to Bruce and tried not to grin as she gestured back to the scowling teen. "He wounds me, sir!"

"Indeed," Bruce agreed, not bothering to hide his smirk. "I thought I raised you better than that, Damian."

Said teen heaved an exasperated sigh. "Don't encourage her..."

"Aww, don't be like that," She nudged his arm before lightly headbutting his shoulder. "You know we're jus' yankin' yer chain..." She glanced over at Bruce. "I'm gonna go get my cup a' coffee... Want me ta make ya one, Mister Wayne...?"

"Just 'Bruce' is fine," He corrected lightly before giving a thankful nod. "I'll take it black with one spoon of sugar, thanks."

Giving a small, two-fingered salute, she nodded and flashed a smile. "Sure thing, Bruce. You two can go chill in the livin' room, I'll be right out." The girl inhaled a bit too deeply and winced, and Damian's brows drew together as he moved towards her, only to get waved off. "S'okay, bo', jus' breathed 'er in a lil' too deep. I ain't dyin'. Go show yer pa the livin' room, would ya? I got this."

Damian tutted, but gave a curt nod. As the girl stumbled into the kitchen, she gave a sharp whistle, and two blurred forms shot out of her room and into the kitchen.

As Bruce leaned back into a recliner and Damian sat on the couch, a happy bark came from the kitchen, followed by a strangled curse and a clatter of a glass hitting the table. "Damnit, dog, I told you - stop jumpin' into my arms! Not 'till we're all healed up, ya fuckin'-" A disgusted noise came from the kitchen. Damian and Bruce shared a look as the girl groaned in disgust. "Aw, gross! My daggon mouth was open an'-NO! Not a-fuckin'-gain!"

Bruce cracked a smile at his son. "You know, for her being a 'freak', you seem to care an awful lot about her..."

Damian shrugged as a low growl came from the kitchen, and Far let out a small yelp. "I pitied her."

"Is that so...?"

"Yes." He grunted, shooting his father a look. "Pity. Nothing more."

The man smirked. "Right... You know, you can pity someone without spending the night, right...?"

He started to retort, only to get cut off by Far's curt yelp. The two men turned, only to see Farrah stagger out of the kitchen with two mugs and Thor hanging off of her shoulders while licking her neck, tail wagging furiously.

Squeaking with disgust as the mutt gave a particularly slobbery kiss in her ear, she visibly shuddered. "Oh, gross..." Standing up to help, Damian reached towards her, only to get waved off... again. "I'm fine, I'm fine... If I really wanted 'im off, I'd give the word an' he'd be off; cool yer tits."

As she handed Bruce the cup, he cracked a grin and gave Damian a pointed look. Said teen scowled and crossed his arms defensively as the redneck shook her dog off of her back, completely oblivious to her two guests quarrel as she playfully scolded the young dog while dropping to the ground..

Ari nudged Thor in the hind leg before curling around her master, and the puppy cocked his head at the older dog before sprawling out by Far's legs and resting his head on the girl's thigh. His tail continued to give slow, lazy wags as he watched Farrah, ready to spring up and play at a moment's notice.

Damian raised a brow. "You know... there is room on the couch. I probably won't end up cutting out your tongue."

Bruce started to scold his son, only to falter as the girl threw her head back and laughed. "Y'know, you threaten me with that'un quite a bit..."

"There's a reason." He replied dryly. "I was hoping that you would catch on and maybe... I don't know... learn to shut your big mouth...?"

Farrah smirked and wiggled her tongue at him before crossing her arms defiantly. "Don't tell me what ta do, Slick."

"I can buy and sell you, Redneck."

Bruce raised a brow amusedly as she shot back, "You wouldn't, so I ain't scared."

"What makes you so sure...?"

"Because ya love me." She smirked.

Damian scoffed. "You wish."

"Then I reckon my wish came true, didn' she, Wayne...?"

The boy finally rolled his eyes and reached down, flicking her in the side of the head. "You're an idiot."

Farrah turned to Bruce and gestured to his son. "Do ya see what I deal with...?" She shook her head to herself before looking up at the ceiling. "I should get paid fer this mess..."

Now, the girl had said that to herself, first of all, and she had also been joking, so... one could imagine her surprise when a wad of money was tossed into her lap.

Looking between Bruce, who had a smirk on his face, and the money, her eyebrows drew together. "What's... what?"

"You're right," The man chimed amusedly. "That was an excellent suggestion. You know, Damian's never had a friend from school before and... I know he can be a bit of a handful. So there," He nodded to roll in her hand, "Think of it as a 'thanks for being able to tolerate my son."

Damian bristled on the couch, while Far stared at the large man with her mouth hanging open. "I..." She glanced back at the money and grimaced before tossing it back into Bruce's lap, much to his and Damian's surprise. "No... thank you, but, uh... no. If anythin'," She jerked her head to Damian, "Give it ta him. He's been the one helpin' me out an' mess."

"Are you mentally retarded, Bowman...?" Damian asked dubiously.

"Naw," She shrugged a shoulder. "Well... maybe I am... But, I don't like gettin' paid 'nless I work for it, an' Damian's not work... The exact opposite, more like, y'know...? To take money jus' fer... fer bein' his friend? Don't feel right. I ain't gonna take it, Bruce."

Bruce leaned back in the chair as a small smile crossed his face, resting his head in his palm. "Yeah..." He looked at his son, and his smile widened. "That one's a keeper, son."

"However," Far added to her previous statement, "If you ever need work done 'round yer yard er somethin', I dunno; maybe cuttin' down some stray branches an' puttin' 'em in a burn pile, I can do that." She gave a sheepish grin. "I need some work ta do, an' I'm willin' ta be paid in milk shakes. So, you ever need someone ta do that, I'm the girl ta call."

The man chuckled. "I'll be sure to remember that." He took a sip from his mug before asking curiously, "So, what are your interests...?"

She blinked. "Int'rests...? Erm..." She scratched her neck. "Readin' comics an' video games... and... oh, I play the harmonica an' guitar. Mainly the harmonica, nowadays," She mused, "I ain't got my guitar no more..."

Raising a brow, the man asked, "Why is that?"

"Well... I'd figured I liked sleepin' under a roof more'n havin' a guitar, I reckon." Sipping her coffee, she added, "An' it was the last mortgage payment, anyways... It would'a sucked gettin' kicked out when we only had one more payment left." She shrugged. "But no biggy, anyways, I got 'er done. An' now that my folks don't have ta worry 'bout me, they're better off."

Both Damian and Bruce's smiles faded as they watched her cautiously, almost expecting her to start crying... But she didn't.

Bruce's brows furrowed. "I'm sorry... is that why you moved into Gotham?"

Far nodded and shrugged, flashing a half-smile. "Yeah, but... Don't worry 'bout it. We're all better off this way, an' I'm doin' okay, other than the muggin's. Bein' sad ain't gonna do nothin' fer me, so I might as well do my best ta stay positive. Find stuff that makes this place bearable, instead a' focusin' on the crappy stuff."

"That's a good outlook." Bruce nodded.

"It ain't mine," She chuckled. "At first, I was hell-bent an' determined ta hate this place," She admitted. "But I got some good advice."

The man cocked his head to the side. "Oh...? From who?"

The girl blushed as she rubbed the back of her neck. "I, um... I'm not sure you'd believe me, there, bo'."

Bruce leaned forwards in his seat, smirking. "Try me..."


"I-I told you, a-a-and your little bu-buddies... No."

Farrah froze mid-sip and shared a look with Bruce and Damian as a deeper, rougher, lightly accented voice growled back. "I don't think you are aware of how... beneficial this could be for both of us."

"Don't-don't come into my h-house!" Charlie's voice barked back. Farrah's eyes narrowed as she stood up abruptly, ignoring the stab of pain as she stalked towards the front door.

"'Ey!" The redneck barked, ignoring Charlie's gestures to go as she stopped in front of a very large, very broad, and very muscular chest. The girl blinked before looking up, and it took a large chunk of her will to keep from gulping with nervousness.

The man was even taller than Charlie, meaning he had to be at least seven feet tall. Muscles bulged from beneath his stone gray suit. The man's jaw was square, with a scraggly beard trimmed to a point at the end of chin and a shaved head. His skin was a deep russet-brown, with a scar marring his jaw line and black eyes with shadows underneath. The man gave the girl an expressionless look as she internally chased away her fear.

"My uncle said no." She finally growled, having found her voice. Thor and Ari padded up to her side, and Ari gave a low growl at the huge man. "Respect that, an' kindly piss off." She could practically hear her uncle wince from behind her.

The man snorted and took a step closer, towering over the girl. He barely glanced away as Bruce and Damian came over.

It felt as though she was underwater, as Farrah craned her neck to meet his eyes. Bruce was saying something, but it muffled and blurred as she studied the unknown man's eyes. They were ancient... For a moment, she thought she saw hundreds of years worth of history and war dancing in his eyes, as he looked back at her... she really hoped he couldn't tell she was scared shitless.

The man finally grunted, the muscles in his jaw twinged as he gave a curt, almost decisive nod, more to himself than her. "Fine." He muttered. "Very well..." His colorless eyes met Charlie's. "Be sure to remember us, mister Bowman. We would do well to work together. Consider it."

He finally turned and ducked out of the door, before reaching back and slamming it shut.

Not a word was spoken as Farrah turned, face white, and started to walk back to the living room. Just as she passed Bruce, her legs turned to jelly and she sank to the floor. She heard a shout but didn't bother placing the voice to a face as she covered her face with her hands.

Several pairs of warm hands dragged her up, mumbling words of concern and comfort.

As she got dropped into the plush couch, she asked faintly. "I think I pissed myself..."

Charlie breathed a laugh. "You-you didn't... don't worry... You were v-very brave, Farrah..."

"It's comin' back ta bite me, Cap," She breathed shakily, reaching up and grasping his shoulder. "Next time, tell me in advance... I'd a' felt better with a hammer er somethin' in my hand..."

Charlie gave a small smile as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Will do."

Farrah looked on her other side and met Bruce and Damian's bright blue eyes and smiled sheepishly. "Could you two keep this a secret...? Don't want anyone ta know I nearly fainted... Got a reputation to keep an' whatnot."

Damian simply shrugged, giving the girl an, 'I'll think about it' look, while Bruce exhaled in a small laugh. "Of course."


Author's note~

You know, I realized something. This one person, this epically awesome person, has been around since near the beginning of my other story, 'Courage'. Not saying any names, in case your shy or something, but can you just... LET ME LOVE YOU. For. Cereal. You're amazing, and you KNOW you are.

*Ahem. Anywho... So. This is... short-ish. Shorter than I'd like it to be :\ Sorry about that... I usually try to make them at least over 5000 words but... *shrug* what can ya do...? I think I'm gonna have to bump things up to get it to speed, like the abduction and stuff I'm planning. Not gonna say anymore on that...

SO, big thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, faved and followed! It's always fun to get up and check my email thanks to you guys. I'm really glad some of you guys like this as much as I like writing it!

Tell me if I made any mistakes somewhere around here and where, and if I haven't already found it, I'll fix. Thanks for the suggestions, guys, and as always, I hope my goofy little tale made you smile :)

Try to bear with me guys! ʕ´ᴥ`ʔ

, Blue