I wake up feeling overly hot and wedged into Digger's side, wrapped in between the nest of sheets and his leg heavily between mine. We must've been in this position for quite a while as the sensation of pins and needles tingles in my trapped foot. But that's not the only thing tingling. My lips, my skin, even the back of my scalp where he would push his fingers into my hair, pulling me to him, all of it is prickling pleasantly.

There's definitely a tangled knot in the back of my hair, though, and I haven't checked but I'm sure my neck is dotted with loveable marks.

Somehow, I manage to get my leg free before pushing the covers off me and stretch out the ache of all the muscles and bones that seem locked. More than anything though, I'm glad we made up – and make up we did. Thrice, before I was no longer conscious.

I'm not one for being overly timely to take my pill straight away in the mornings but this morning, I make sure I do swallowing it dryly and greedily. I'm all for kids, however, that's something I see years down the line and not now. Especially with Joker hanging over our heads.

Throwing on my robe behind the door, I yawn. It's not a tired yawn but a contented one. My flowers he so kindly bought me sit on the couch, wilting, the casualty of our night together. I still cut the ends, strip the parts that hang lifeless and arrange them in my Grandma's prized vase, placing it directly on the counter. So what if they're dry and crabby and resemble sticks? It's my first bouquet of flowers in a romantic gesture. I'm not throwing them in the trash. I mainly hope they will come back to life. I'm not green-fingered and never have been, so I highly doubt they will. The small floppy petal that plops onto the counter afterwards is a sure sign that they won't.

Next, I tidy away stripped clothes and boots almost laughing at how ridiculously desperate I must've looked last night, not allowing him to talk or even rest the moment his hand touched my shoulder. I guess he's going to be really hungry.

So I make him breakfast in bed.

Digger's favorite food type is breakfast food. He would eat bowls of cereal at any point in the day, snack on waffles and drool over any type of biscuit, pancake, or breakfast bars he bought or found. I use the left over waffles, heating them and pouring syrup over the top along with making coffee. Being a waitress most of my life comes in handy when I balance the plates of food and drinks, knocking the door open widely with my foot. Digger's awake, propped against the headboard and smiles that to-die-for grin when he sees me.

"Whatcha done?" he asks, trying to see, grabbing at the coffees before I practically drop everything and placing them on the side table.

I shrug, "Just thought you'd be hungry."

He's grinning as he rumbles out, "Yah not wrong." I can feel him tugging the strings of my robe while my hands are still full. "Would've been a better sight with this thing off." I just laugh, propping myself on the edge next to him, trying to glare but failing miserably. "Maybe a little pinny…"

I decide to ignore him, cutting my waffle and taking a bite. He's watching me with a stupid half-grin on his face. "What?" I'm trying to sound agitated by his intrusive stare, but my eyes betray me, flicking down his bare chest in front of me.

"Last night was pretty wild…" He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "…I wish I'd recorded it. Can still hear yah delightful little whines in me head." He presumes then to shove the biggest mouthful he can into his mouth, still looking pretty smug.

I flush pink. "Can we talk about the weather, or perhaps what's on TV later, or something interesting, then how I dress or sound?"

"How 'bout how yeh taste?" he purrs. I glare successfully this time and he gently slaps my leg. "So, I've been thinkin'…"

"That's dangerous." I quip, smiling when he shoves me a little.

"We go to the gym and then we go out tonight."

"You're not working?" I say, sounding extremely chirpier and hopeful.

He shakes his head, "Nope."

Then I grimace, replying, "But, you had to ruin it with the gym… Can't we just like, go for a walk or something?"

"Let's compromise sweetheart – a jog then."

With the plate balanced on my legs, I fall back against the mattress, exaggerating my death.

I can't breathe. I can't breathe and I have shin splints. I can't breathe and Digger's annoyingly happy and keeping a timely pace in front of me.

To hell with this jogging malarkey. I stop suddenly, bending at the waist and holding my knees in exhaustion, watching as he takes a few more strides before noticing.

"What ya doin'?! C'mon!" He flips a hand up motioning me.

I shake my head, my breathing ragged. "No! Body says stop…" I pant, my face burning and the sweat dripping over every inch of my skin.

With a sigh, he jogs back. The arms of his vest have patches of sweat and a trail forming on his chest and I can see the ringlets of chest hairs just poking up from underneath. His joggers bag loosely down from his waist and he his beloved beanie adorned over his dampening hair. He actually couldn't look any sexier right now while I probably look like a beached jellyfish.

"Euna, c'mon," he attempts to coax me.

"I can't," I whine. "I'm done. You go ahead." I shut my eyes trying to block him out, hoping he will just vanish before me. To my stupid mistake, he only rounds behind me, thrusting his groin into my ass. "Digger!"

"Mine for the taking." Next, his hands latch onto my hips pulling me back against him again.

"Stop!" I screech.

"If ya don't start running I'll take ya here in front of all these lovely people." He means every word, I know. A sharp smack catches my right buttocks.

Looking around, people are glancing at us and if my face weren't already red, it would be now. "Quit it!"

"Start runnin' little bird…" He smacks me again and I try and laugh it off, moving away from him. But this time he gives me a stinger.

"Ow!" I turn, holding my arms up to stop him, grabbing his wrists as he approaches me with a sly smile. We fight for a minute on the spot and then I just suddenly sprint, veering off the pathway and along the grass, laughing and panting as I go. For someone reason, knowing he's chasing me, adrenaline sweeps my body and I get a little scared.

With my voice decibels higher and knowing he's directly behind me, I scream. "Okay you win!" Just before we tumble together and I land flat on my back with him bracing himself above me. I have no doubt I have grass stains on my red shorts and white vest top.

Panting together, but smiling, our breath mixes and I reach up, fisting his vest and gold chain in one hand, pulling him towards my lips. His mouth is colder than mine, but far more forceful. He winds his hands underneath me, pulling me up with incredible strength, the workings of his shoulders shifting underneath my hands till I'm relying on just him to hold me as he stands. The thought of his strength tingles in my stomach.

"Yah useless," he tells me when he pulls back.

"I got scared." I pout. "I don't like being chased."

"Darl', I'd follow yeh anywhere." I blush instantly. "I'd take ya anywhere." He reiterates, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. The look falls just as quickly, replaced with one of thought. "Seriously though, where'd ya wanna go tonight?"

"To the stars!" I shout, trying to grasp at my inner Kate Winslet.

"You're a sad fucker aren't you?" He begins walking with me, as if I weighed nothing and not caring for strange stares.

I snort, "Says you, Boomerang boy." I begin laughing, forgetting every bad thing going on in our backgrounds and just enjoying this small moment of us being together. He's watching my face and I can feel myself on a fine edge, daring to say what I really want to say to him. The heat of him is only spurring me on. "Wait… you've seen Titanic?"

I don't like makeup, but I put some on anyway, just to prove I've made an effort. I let my hair dry naturally into its normal waves and leave it down sprucing the ends lightly with moose.

Digger however, is patiently waiting for me, already showered and dressed and he looks smart in a navy shirt and jeans. His hair is still relatively short from when he lobbed most of it off before so his curly mane sits neatly in his usual Mohawk.

It's not long till he's pulling me down the streets of Gotham, moaning that I took too long even though he spent most of the afternoon sharpening his Boomerang's. He has four on him tonight. I know because I saw him hook them onto the inside of his jacket before we left.

Next to him, I still feel inferior. He's tall, handsome, the shirt restricting against his chest. I wear a tidy black wrap around dress and my knee-high boots, leaving my legs bare to the elements and he can't stop touching them playfully as we walk. Luckily, it's not cold.

We come to a dimly lit restaurant and I peer up at him when he smiles down at me.

I ask quietly, "Why do I feel like this is our first date?"

"'Cause it is, bird," he replies evenly.

"No strip clubs?" I joke and he pulls me forward. Everything inside is so posh and the tables are filled with mostly couples speaking quietly between each other. The atmosphere is calm and there's soft music just audible in the background. Not something I would have pegged him for.

The waitress greets us by the door but I'm too absorbed by my surroundings to speak. Digger squeezes my hands and we are led towards the back of the restaurant to a neat table for two with a candle glittering in the middle.

I have to say, I'm a little nervous. My manners aren't too formal and I can't remember the last time I was taken to an actual restaurant. Hanging my coat on the back of my chair, I sit across from him, my stomach churning and he couldn't seem any more relaxed if he tried.

I turn my arm downwards though, hiding the prominent 'J' sitting on my forearm. It seems we can't get away from him no matter where we were. He was always there to haunt us some way especially with the ball hanging over our heads on Saturday.

Chewing my lip, my nerves sky rocket until Digger reaches out and entwines my fingers with his.

"Yah gonna tell me what's botherin' ya, or do I have to guess?"

I shake my head saying, "No! No, I'm fine." I don't want to ruin this moment. The waitress steps up to our side and pours red wine into our glasses and I draw my fingers back.

Digger takes a long drink of his, dusting off half the glass with his eyes squinted at me. He licks his lips and leans towards me once more before speaking lowly, "What bothers you; bothers me."

I sigh quietly, asking, "Are we going to the ball?"

"Yes," he states firmly, not breaking eye contact. "Our deal with the prick hasn't changed, Euna. So if that's what's botherin' ya still, we need to wise up." He wasn't talking about the both of us, he was putting it into a kinder way of saying I needed to accept it. "Listen… It's just me and you right now." He laughs throatily. "Forever…"

"How romantic," I say dryly.

"Oi, I'm a real stud when I wanna be." His boot pushes my leg under the table. "But yeh know what I'm also good at?" He leans forward even more, whispering, so I meet him in the middle. "People reading…"

I scoff. "Oh really?"

He nods, eyes flickering around behind me. "Yeah. Over there… Mr. and Mrs. Hanky spank…"

I give him a funny look. "Hanky what?"

"They're shy, right… but, they are freaks in the sack…" I follow his gaze to a meek couple eating contently with each other, the girl giving little looks every now and again to her partner, trying to see what he sees.

"How can you possibly know that? You're making this up."

"Over there…" He flicks his head to a woman wiping a man's face, tilting her bosom towards him. "Fetish." He points now to the waitress. "Screwing the boss." As he says it, the man cleaning a glass behind the bar spanks her ass when she passes. I'm actually impressed with the last one, at least.

"Wow, what a useful skill."

"Eunice Evans." Now Digger points at me. "Passionate." The smug look on his face is rumbustious.

I immediately retort, "Captain Boomerang… Ambitious." I quirk my brow at him.

"Prudent."

"Observant."

"Ohh, I like this game," he purrs.

The waitress clears her throat. Once again Digger and I have managed to absorb ourselves in each other. God, I love him.

"It's a set menu, a choice between, beef, chicken and lamb this evening. There is also a vegetarian dish." She smiles at me.

"Beef please," I respond.

"Times two," Digger calls. She nods leaving us to our own devices again. "Is this the part where I say ya look beautiful?"

"Usually you say that when you first see your date, but thank you," I reply before finishing my wine and Digger pours us another.

By the time I'm three glasses down, our food arrives, but I'm too giggly to enjoy it. By my fourth, my head is spinning and my laugh is just a complete snort. I'm such a light-weight but Digger doesn't seem to mind. We receive some curious glances from the other tables and the dessert of chocolate cake and cream is eaten far too quickly. I swear that if I eat another thing, I won't be able to walk.

Getting up to leave is the worst. I haven't tested my legs since drinking and I immediately wobble.

"Let's get you home, bub…" Digger walks with me, guiding me with a steady hand on my back. I wonder if he feels the effects of the alcohol or not, but on the walk home my thoughts are wiped as he practically carries me home by my arm because it's not my fault if the pavement is so uneven.

The elevator ride up to my apartment, my vision swirls. I need to lie down immediately and that's what I do as soon as we get in. I don't even bother with the sheets, flopping on top of them fully clothed while Digger begins stripping around me until he's left just in his jeans.

"I need to find a job…" I say loosely, unsure of his reaction. I know he likes taking care of everything so I try not to look at his face as I'm sure it would be one of disagreement. But it's about time we spoke about it. I'm tired of relying on him and I don't want to be completely dependent on him although, that's what he likes.

As I had figured, his response was, "You don't need a job, love. Ya job is here…"

I roll my eyes towards him, "I need to make my own money. For things. I want to buy things…"

"Mhmmm," he hums, probably because I'm slurring greatly and he's trying not to agree.

I remember the ball and blurt, "I need to buy a dress."

"Let's get you outta that one first before we think of buyin' a new one, eh?" He rolls me over, finding the belt that holds my dress closed on my side and fiddles with it, exhaling in frustration because I did the knot super tight on purpose.

"I'm going to buy a dress tomorrow." I announce, propping my chin on my forearms, just waiting until I can feel he's undone it.

He grunts, "Tomorrows not good. I'm out."

"I can go on my own Digger." I laugh. "I'm not completely hopeless. Plus, I might not want you to see my dress. It's a surprise!" I'm flipped onto my back again with him hovering over me as my dress opens in front of him and he hums now for a whole other reason, taking in the lacey black bra I decided to wear for our first 'date'. I feel his hands slip down my legs and he unzips my boots, peeling each one off slowly.

I catch him off guard, sitting up quickly and grabbing his belt. My new found confidence is rising from the spruce of alcohol I'd consumed this evening. I unclip the buckle and slip the brown leather from the hoops. I think I finally understand what sass means when I snap it in front of him playfully with a sly smile and his eyes light up.

"Eunacorn…" He warns me.

I really don't know what's come over me. I think I'm a nymphomaniac. "What?" But he's stunned into silence and he lets me roll him onto the bed and I straddle his hips clumsily. "I think…" I trail my hands down his arms, grabbing his forearms and pulling them in front of me as I slip the belt around his wrists. "…you need to know who is the real boss around here… Who runs this joint…"

His voice surprises me when it's so deep and husky; it sends a shiver up my spine. "Ohhh yeah," he chuckles. "That you is it?" He hisses when I pull the belt tight, securing his wrists together and tucking the end in till he's fully bound. Digger tests them, pulling against it for a minute then looks up at me. I would like to say in awe. "I'm fuckin' so turned on right now." He exhales sharply. I sheepishly smile at him then tug on his jeans and boxers, yanking them down his legs with his help. I don't hesitate when his erection pops out. I grip him tightly in one hand and slowly stroke him while his head falls back against the mattress in ecstasy.

"I want to hear you say it." I grip him a little harder. His white teeth gleam along with his gold tooth in the off-set light and I can see he's on the verge of laughing. I lean down, biting his lower lip and pulling it with my teeth. His face changes instantly, one of complete, serious lust and knowing he can't touch me, I smirk at him. "Say it, Captain Boomerang."

Digger lifts his head up, a fraction away from my lips. "Make me, sweet cheeks." Then kisses me roughly, using his legs to push me forwards against him. Even with his hands still restrained, the fingers reach out onto the soft skin of my stomach.

"Oh, well… you know I could just leave you here… all tied up… Maybe I'll go to sleep…" I murmur flippantly.

He narrows his eyes dangerously. "You bloody won't. You'll ride me now… won't yah?"

"I dunno…" I feign boredom, looking at my nails. He hoops his arms over the back of my neck, pulling me down to him, his knees still up, pushing me forwards, and I'm trapped.

Shit.

"Take yah pretty little knickers off before I yank em off with my teeth and then sit the fuck on me face."

"Not until you say it… once. Otherwise…" I slap his cheek gently, pushing my fingers through his beard. "I'm leaving you high and dry, buddy." I kiss his mouth, working my way to his neck and he groans above me. Trailing my tongue along his skin, I go lower, just stopping exactly where he wants me to go. "Too bad…"

"Okay, you're the boss!"

I giggle. "You're so predictable."

With his eyes trailing across my body, he looks like a man possessed. "Darl', I'd tell yeh anything yah wanna hear right now."

"Good… Have you seen Titanic?"

With an impatient growl, he still manages to rip my underwear and I do indeed sit on his face.

Digger stopped me by the door as I was leaving, sliding something into my pocket, telling me, 'To ring him if I need him and he'll find me.'

He was dressed too but he wasn't leaving the same time as me. "I'll be fine," I assure him, even though he looks like he's fighting an internal struggle. He kisses my forehead for a long moment before pushing some money into my coat pocket. I vow to pay him back later in my head, giving him a tight smile in exchange.

"Go get 'em, tiger." He flicks the black hat on my head, touching my face one last time. Anyone would've thought I was leaving for a long time and perhaps not coming back. I can't say that I don't like his reaction.

It doesn't take long until I'm walking the streets of Gotham, browsing the many shops as I pass. I finally reach the plaza, even though the bus would've been quicker but the walk was nice.

It sits four stories high with multiple floors and escalators scattered at each side and even in the middle of the center taking people up to the shops above. Everything's clean, bright and presented perfectly as the shops fight for your attention. My own thought is, is that I can't believe Digger robbed this place.

But nothing can prepare me for my indecisiveness. I've never bought a dress for a bonafide ball before, and I have no idea what the other people will be wearing. I stare into the fancy shop window at one particular dress for a while and sigh.

"What is a dress you can't wear?"

I whip my head around in surprise, seeing a youngish guy with glasses standing to my right. "I'm sorry?" He looks smartly dressed in a suit, his hair side-swept and he' quite tall, but skinny, very skinny.

"What is a dress you can't wear?" he repeats. He seems very proud of himself, almost gyrating on the spot.

"I kinda heard you the first time." I try to laugh to not sound condescending. "I just didn't understand?"

"It's a riddle." He smiles at me. "I'll tell you, shall I?" He doesn't leave me with an option to refuse because he keeps talking. "A dress you can't wear is an address." His laugh is dorky and I smile awkwardly. "I'm Edward." He holds his hand out to me and I shake it quickly.

"Eunice."

He cocks his head slightly, "Unusual name."

"Yeah…" I shrug, "I blame my parents."

Immediately, he says, "To give me to someone I don't belong to is cowardly, but to take me is noble. I can be a game, but there are no winners. What am I?"

Now my frown actually hurts. I shake my head a little, my mouth opening to ask what the hell he's on about. He must witness my little conniption because he answers quickly.

"It's blame. You blamed your parents and I thought you know, that it was an appropriate joke given the situation." Makes sense. Now, anyway.

"Oh." I look back to the dress and rub the back of my neck nervously. "It was nice to meet you Edward. But I've really got to find a dress and standing here isn't really helping."

"Wouldn't happen to be for the Valentina Belmont Hotel would it?"

I debate whether telling him the truth is a good idea. "Er, yes it is actually," I admit. "How do you—"

He's grinning again. "I'm cordially invited, too. Looks like I'll be seeing you there."

"Nygma!" A harsh voice calls and I spot two smartly dressed men standing together from a distance. "Stop bothering the lady."

He grimaces, muttering, "Excuse me, Eunice. It was nice to meet you."

Even I'm capable enough to realize they are police. I just didn't realize he was. He had a face that was too kind and an honest personality to be associated with the Gotham police. I catch eyes with one of the guys and look away quickly. "Likewise," I call after his retreating form. I make a personal note to remember their faces and pushing myself out of their limelight. Taking a deep breath, I enter the dress shop.

I skim along the different fabrics and colors, touching one as I pass to feel the softness of the satin.

"Can I help you?"

Help is definitely what I need. "Yes, actually," I admit aloud. "I need a dress for a ball, and I'm pretty hopeless." The shop assistant, a pretty blonde thing in what appears to be designer clothing, why are they always blonde?, smiles back at me and checks my size just by sight.

"I think I have just the thing," she comments. "Come with me." She takes me further to the back of the shop and presents me to a navy blue and white dress. The material crosses over the front of the dress leaving the arms off -shoulder. It changes at the waist to an overlapped and pleated design hanging down along the bottom, awash with a stormy but mainly white pattern with traces of navy blue. I can't work out whether it reminds me of storming clouds or whether it's floral. But it's utterly beautiful.

"That's… too much," I stutter in awe.

"Ridiculous," the blond waves my words away. "Try it on." She pulls it from the hanger and ushers me to the changing rooms. "Take your time." Whether I like it or not.

Sliding myself into the dress, it fits me like a glove and matches my dark eyes and hair perfectly. I can't stop staring at myself and twirl for a second, eyeing the back of it for a minute.

"Are you ready?" The assistant's voice calls from the other side and I take a deep breath before leaving my changing room.

From the smirk on her face and the older lady who stops shopping to peer over at me, I know it's the one. "It's perfect…" The assistant clasps her hands together. "What do you think?"

"I think… I love it," I smile. I really do.

"You just need to get your hair tied up. We have shoes to match and earrings too. I think long diamanté to match the length of your dress."

I hope it doesn't rain on the night of the ball as the back of the dress drags along the floor a little, but not too much that it would restrict my movement. I decide this is the one, and Digger gave me more than enough money to buy it. I sneakily checked the price tag in the changing room.

Smiling up to the woman, I'm pleased that this awkward faze is out of my life, all thanks to the police of Gotham forcing me inside.

"Do you do matching gloves?"

"I'm back!" I shout as I enter the apartment. "You'd never guess…" My bags bustle either side of me, hanging off my wrists and a takeaway coffee in the other. Kicking the door shut with my foot, I spin to find Digger displeased in front of me.

"Bird, I've been calling ya phone." He sounds and looks… not pleased.

I shrug defensively, "I had my hands full and I was almost home."

He growls, "I was 'bout to come find ya."

"Well…" I smile at him. "I'm here now." He rushes the two steps between us and I drop the bags but grip my coffee tightly from the surprise. He kisses me fiercely, his fingers pushing into the back of my hair.

"When I call, ya pick up. I don't give a fuck what yah doing."

I frown at the demand. "Has something happened?"

"Gotham isn't safe," he tells me while checking over me. "Police are reinvestigating the Plaza. There's a new chief of police."

I remember the two men, and Edward. "I saw police at the Plaza today." He frowns on my words and takes the coffee from me. "They are going to the ball."

"I figured." He still seems really serious, too serious for my liking.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just—" He pauses, his eyes softening. "I was worried, doll, that's all." But the tone doesn't match the words. There is something he is hiding from me and that hurts more than I'd like to say. My eyes drop and he strokes my chin making me lift to meet his again. "You don't have teh worry 'bout anything. I swear it."

"I'm not worried for me, I'm worried for you. What if they find out?"

He shrugs, replying, "Nothin' points to me. They don't even know who I am."

The thought of losing him is almost unbearable. I couldn't imagine coming home and knowing he's not here. My stomach knots and I suddenly feel sick. It's almost a panicky sensation suddenly growing in my body and I lean forward against his chest, gripping his 'Captain' jumper as if that; if I let go, I may just lose him completely.

But I also have something I need to tell Digger which he isn't going to like…

"So…" I speak into the fabric of his jumper and he hums. "…I may have a part-time job…" This is the information I wanted to share when I came through the door but he stopped me.

"Euna!"

I hold up my hands as if to ward off any arguments he might try to make. "It's a coffee shop. This coffee shop…" I point to my cup on the side and he eyes it shadily. "Not a bar – it's three days a week. It's nothing, but every little bit helps right?"

He growls, "You were only meant to find a bloody dress!"

"Two birds, one stone," I chuckle nervously.

His response is a grunt.

A/N

Long time no see. Sorry this took FOREVER to get up, but I've been visiting dark places ;)

Thanks to K. Riley for editing this for me.

Enjoy this little filler ;)