Like it or not, Kala started to wake the moment the sun rose over the horizon. Usually the feeling was a gentle warmth, waking her slowly over the course of an hour as her body started to respond to the presence of sunlight. This morning, though, it was an insistent prodding that wouldn't be ignored, that brought her up from sleep, the urge actually painful. Groaning, she opened her eyes to slits and stared across the room until her vision cleared, still feeling worn thin from a restless night. Her mind was still so frazzled about the previous night's events that it shocked her when the stretch she started ended in searing agony. Her forearm stung, deep, like a really large cut. What the hell—?

With a frown, she pushed up the sleeve of the white shirt she was wearing and saw the slightly-bloodied bandage wound snugly around her forearm. Well, that explained the worst of the pain. Jesus, what happened last night? After the warehouse…

Somehow she'd managed to mix it up last night pretty well. Couldn't have been a normal training night. Her arm was throbbing at a rate that told her that this wasn't some small little scratch; there were flashes of a fight, of being out-numbered. Memory filtered back in: Jay yelling for her to get out, her yelling right back that she wouldn't. The realization of the fight they'd been in brought her wide-awake then, but the sight that met her confused Kala even worse. Impossibly, she was in her bed in the Manor, and … had no memory of coming back after the previous night's fiasco. Somehow, even wounded, Jay had gotten her out here to Bristol from the Bowery. How? There was no way he'd taken the bike. She knew she wouldn't have let him do that, would've fought with him rather than let him. Shaking her head a little cleared things out a little, with only minor wooziness.

Kala babied her arm a little while she wiggled her way up out of bed. Using her legs to push back her covers, she realized she was still fully dressed, only her boots gone, the pair set neatly beside the bed. Brow furrowed, she glanced closer at the shirt she was wearing and startled when she recognized it. One of Jay's uniform shirts. The memory of her ruined jacket came back to her. The shirt had been to hide the bandage, the corset no disguise for it at all. And then … nothing, really. The sound of Jay's voice at some point. She cocked her head, raking at her memories, only to become aware that her hair was brushing her cheek. Her brow furrowed at that. It had been in a tight bun when they'd come in, she'd thought, but there was really no telling. Most of the night before was still pretty misty, little bits coming back at a time.

God, her arm was killing her. Had to get something to at least dull that. She really ought to take the tape off and look at the damage, but she hadn't quite worked up the guts yet.

The notion triggered something then, her own words coming back to her. Seriously. Jay, you have a gut wound and ought to be stuffed in a bed somewhere, not taking me home. I'll be fine.

Then it hit her. The fight with Black Mask's people had gone wrong, she'd been too worn down to fight properly. There'd been wounds after, both with a long knife, and they hadn't gone to Alfred for them. Which explained whatever was wrong with her arm. There hadn't been many options. The only safe one would've meant going to Alfred; that would have meant admitting that they'd messed up to Bruce. Kala had expected that he would find out, anyway, but they'd done it themselves and kept the secret. Even now, she couldn't believe that Jay had trusted her to doctor him the night before. The whole evening felt unreal, like it had been something that had happened to someone else.

Another twinge from her damn arm. There had to be something she could do about it, at least to tame the agony a little; just gritting her teeth wasn't helping much. Jay would be laughing at her annoyance and pain, she knew. She was being a lightweight, especially considering his little souvenir. Kala spared a thought for Jay and how he had to be coping. It'd been her fault that he'd been sliced, her lack of speed and too-slow reaction. As soon as she felt up to it, she'd head into town and check up on him, find some excuse to get out of here early. But she'd see if maybe, just maybe, her all-natural Kryptonian morning-after-smack-down diet worked for something like this. She did remember Jay saying two things specifically: sleep, and sunlight.

Honestly, with her body practically screaming for photons, nothing sounded better. And at last she had permission. She couldn't help a weak grin as she slipped out of bed despite the pain, sweet relief coursing through her at the mere thought of heading up to sunbathe. It had been over a month since she'd been able to take a full-fledged flight, longer still since she'd had a proper sun-soak, and thank God, that streak was about to end. It was almost a delirious relief to know it. While it was happening, she hadn't realized just how deep the craving had been. Never had she understood her system's needs so completely.

Only taking moments to shed her clothes from the night before, Kala changed into a pair of shorts and her smallest camisole. If she'd brought a bikini, she would've worn that. The thought made her laugh; she was going to soak up as much solar energy as possible, and she wanted as much surface area exposed to receive it as she could manage. Hell, she'd go naked if she thought she could get away with it at this point. If only the Manor wasn't in such a populated area, and there wasn't the danger of snarky Bats catching her…

Anyway, it felt like getting a 'get out of jail free' card just to realize that the weakness she'd been suffering would be banished at last. Everything else faded in light of it, and she was grinning to herself when she left her room to head up to the roof. After this long, she'd probably need to sun-soak for a hour or so just to maintain a hover before heading up. Thankfully, no one else in the household besides Alfred would likely be awake for some time yet, so she'd probably be up and back before any of the Bats had opened their eyes. Plenty of time to just soak in photons to her heart's content.

She could only hope that Uncle Bruce wouldn't give her too much hell for it, since she'd be breaking their agreement to go easy on the sun while she was here. But she'd deal with that later. Jay was her current trainer and he called the shots. In light of last night, it would have been inevitable in short order, anyway. There was no way she could've gone on much longer the way she'd been.

But for now, the sun beckoned and Kala had no intentions of refusing its summons.

…

Turning over in his bed and burying his face in the pillow to stave off the steadily encroaching sunlight, Jay winced as the morning finally cut through his fog of sleep. "Just ten more minutes," he groaned to no one, expecting no answer save the drone of his TV that he always fell asleep to.

Except. Except, there was no drone of a TV. There was … nothing. Silence.

"Man, don't tell me I lost power again," he grumbled, flopping over and pushing himself up on an elbow, a hand pressed against an eye to rub out the sleep. He blinked hard, shook his head, and—

This was not his apartment. The room around him was too opulent, too big, too … too clean to have ever been a place Jason would choose to sleep.

"Oh, fuck!" he spat, tossing back his covers and sliding out of the bed to search frantically for his pants and boots. How in the flying fuck did he not remember sticking around the goddamn Manor last night? What the hell had even made him stay?

The sudden fire of pain in his side when he reached too far for a boot reminded him in an instant. His fucking stitches. Alfred redressing them. And Kala…

Shit, he swore to himself, sitting gingerly on the bed and dropping the boot. Pushing a hand through his hair, he forced himself calm. Just because he was royally screwed, was no reason to panic. So Bruce was gonna murder him for getting Kala hurt? Shit, Dick was gonna harangue him 'til murder looked like the humane option, all for getting his girl sliced and diced. So what? He'd been dead to the family before, anyway, so what was another go at it? And that was all assuming Kala's dad didn't get wind of this and decide to get creative with the heat vision. Fuck.

A slow glance around the room as he took slow, even breaths to dial down the pain in his side, and Jason realized at last that he really was in his old room, practically unchanged from the day he'd left it, complete with his favorite posters on the walls—Megadeth, Rocky Horror Picture Show, Friday the Thirteenth, Marilyn Manson—and his old school textbooks lined up neatly on the bookshelf, the way Alfred had always insisted. Jay hadn't been here in … years. A lot of years. Too many.

Had Bruce seriously saved all his shit all this time? How in the hell did that even track?

Or had it been Alfred's doing?

Shaking off the thought—way too early for that shit, he reminded himself—Jay eased himself up from the bed and headed to the bathroom. The least he could do was get a damn shower and clean off the crud from the night before, wash off the rest of the blood that had dried to his hip and leg. He'd have to put his dirty clothes back on, but—

But his eyes fell on the neatly folded stack of clean clothes left on the counter next to the sink in the bathroom, that all appeared brand new. From the look of it, there was a white tee, red boxer-briefs, a pair of jeans, and even socks. And next to that lay a tray with fresh bandages so Jay could redress his wound after cleaning up.

Yep, definitely Alfred's doing. No one else was that thoughtful.

Unable to help the sense of relief that coursed through him at the discovery, Jason scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling the stubble that he definitely needed to shave if he wanted to be in any way presentable.

A glance to the other side of the sink found a complete set of toiletries and shaving supplies. Even his favorite brand of razor.

He could only hope that breakfast would go so well.

…

Mornings in Wayne Manor nearly always involved a semi-sleepy shuffle down to breakfast, waking up along the way and talking over the previous night's events. A comfortable, sociable routine, one that helped make some kind of sense of the lives they led. And while Dick was on leave from the Blüdhaven police department for the summer—he'd claimed family matters once he heard Kala was inbound—it was almost like old times.

This morning, however, the routine was interrupted by the arrival of the mail. Tim didn't pay much attention to his stack of reading material at first, more interested in getting caffeine than anything else. Dick, more of a morning person, started flipping through as soon as he sat at his usual spot at the table. Bruce hadn't come down yet.

Today's mail consisted of the usual charity requests, some financial stuff … and the latest issue of GQ, to which Tim also subscribed. Hmm … the timing was right, so maybe… As soon as he slit open the 'renew now and get three issues free' advertising cover, he started grinning.

Tim hadn't seen it yet, focused on his coffee, so Dick stole his copy and smacked him in the shoulder with it.

"Ow! What is your problem?" Tim griped.

"Read that first," Dick told him, smirking. When Tim just glared, Dick took out his own copy and held up the cover.

"Holy—is that Kala?"

"Yes indeed. Our very own KLK is on the cover of GQ, in little more than a leather jacket, no less." Grinning, Dick flipped the issue open, and it was his turn to have his eyebrows shoot up. "Oh. She's on the index, too."

"Really? They must've…" Tim trailed off, tilting his head to the side. "Oh man, Jason's gonna have a fit."

…

Far above the atmosphere, Kala hovered midair in the brightest wash of sunlight she could find. As it baked into her, her eyes closed against the intensity, she felt the moment when she began to fully-recharge, and let out a little sigh of relief. The sweetness of it was almost too much to bear, and it had been years since she'd welcomed it this much. Learning to fight like a normal full-blooded human had been essential, but this. Oh God, she had missed this.

Once up, Kala wasn't sure just how long she basked. Jase always described it as molten gold and Kala had never agreed so much as she did now. After so much time with only the slightest exposure, she couldn't help tipping her head back in pleasure. It felt as if all the warmth and light in the universe had been withheld from her, like she'd been ill for ages and hadn't known it until now. She shivered a little as the power seeped back into her, every cell firing fully to life. A laugh bubbled from her lips as she stretched her arms out to greet the sun.

So caught up in how wonderful it felt to be healthy again, she nearly forgot the stitches. They would only cause more problems if the rent skin healed over them at this rapid a rate. Bracing herself for what she needed to do, she held her arm up before her and trained the thinnest beam of heat vision on the dark thread peeking through her skin. Once it was loose, she took a deep breath and tugged it out, cutting through all of them as quickly as she could. That curious slithering feeling of the thread pulling through her skin still cramped her stomach, but she handled the taking-out much better than the sewing-in. The wound knit back completely as she watched, without a hint of scarring.

Huh, so the all-natural sunlight diet did work for this sort of thing. Would wonders never cease.

Smiling to herself, Kala let herself hover there for just a moment more, until she was satisfied that her body was back in full working order, then let herself free-fall down through the cloud-cover, steering back in the direction of the Manor as she went and only putting on the breaks at the last second.

God help the Wayne boys. They had no idea what they were dealing with, now that she was fully recharged.

…

"What am I gonna have a fit over?" Jay groused, moving carefully into a seat at the kitchen table.

For a few seconds silence reigned, Tim and Dick glancing at each other as they tried to unobtrusively hide the magazines. Dick knew Jay had come in the night before to drop Kala off, but he'd somehow missed the fact that Jay had actually spent the night. Then again, he'd been down in the Cave and had only heard about their arrival when Babs alerted him.

He hadn't paid much attention, though. Jay … well, he wasn't exactly a threat that needed monitoring anymore, and Dick hadn't gone up to see him after their last exchange. He'd walked away from it feeling like a heel, and wondering if maybe, just maybe, Jay had come full circle at last. If he had, Dick was going to personally kiss Kala on national TV for having brought it about.

Meanwhile, the man himself was no less grumpy. "Spit it out, Drake. What's gonna give me fits?"

"I wasn't talking about you," Tim said, obviously just as weirded out as Dick was. "I meant Jason Kent."

"Huh," Jay said noncommittally, and it was odd how he sounded almost relieved. What had gone down at the warehouse to leave him injured enough to stay at the Manor? Oracle had said he and Kala took care of the problem successfully, but her report had been thin on details. Then again, most reports involving Jay were thin on details.

As if suddenly remembering that he was the resident jackass, Jay looked at Tim with a smirk. "So, what's your boyfriend gonna have a fit over?"

Narrowing his eyes, Tim didn't rise to the bait. "Nothing that concerns you, Jay."

But further discussion was interrupted by another arrival, Bruce walking in and heading straight for the coffee, already suited up for a day at his office. "Morning," he announced to the room, not really looking at anyone until he had his mug and had lifted it halfway to his lips. Then his eyes widened and he blinked, seeming frozen in place. "Jason," he said quietly. "Didn't expect to see you today."

Jason tensed for a moment, perfectly still, and Dick held his breath wondering if a challenge was coming. Then Jay lifted a shoulder, sipping at the coffee Alfred had supplied him, and slouched back in his chair at the table. "Didn't expect to be here. Was late when I brought Kala back, thought I'd crash," he explained.

A lifted eyebrow, and Bruce nodded, taking another sip of coffee. "Okay," he said, and slid into a chair at the end of the table, turning his focus on the mail and newspapers waiting for him there.

On the other side of the table, Dick watched the exchange, or lack thereof, with a knitted brow, noting to himself that Jay's excuse was about as thin as those sparse details about his other life were, and that Bruce was being entirely too blasé about it. Trading a look with Tim, he nodded, and at least they were on the same page; nothing was ever clear-cut where Jay was concerned, and obviously something had happened that made him want to stick around. Bruce's response had been unexpected as well, and Dick couldn't help thinking that maybe he had something up his sleeve. There had always been at least some friction between the two before. If Bruce was acting like Jay coming to breakfast was pretty much business as usual … hell, Dick had no idea what that meant.

That'd have to wait, though, because when Bruce's gaze landed on the two magazine copies on the table, both lying cover side down, he huffed out a breath. "Knew that was a bad idea," he grumbled, just before the final member of the household made her morning entrance.

…

Kala strolled into the kitchen late by their standards, but not late enough to miss breakfast entirely. Fully charged, she felt like a completely different person. Finally, she understood the full weight of her father's insistence that the Kryptonian metabolism ran partly on sunlight. These last three weeks she'd been going without something essential to her well-being, and the difference in her attitude and bearing were blatant.

Coming in with her head up and shoulders back, relaxed and happy, Kala felt her skin still faintly tingling and warm from the sun. It was even possible she'd gotten a slight tan, as her skin looked a little more golden than usual against the material of the white sundress she'd picked out. Jeans, t-shirts, and yoga clothes had been the order of the day most of the summer; the dress had given her a chance to just be herself for a while, even if only for breakfast. She was already grinning impishly when they glanced up. Looked like she was the last one again. Oh well, could be worse. "Morning, gentlemen. Sorry I'm late."

It was only when she was sliding into her seat that she saw Jay, unable to hide her double-take at his presence. Either he'd come back this morning, unexpectedly, or he'd never left the house the night before. At least he looked all right this morning, his color fine. If the pain was bad at the moment, he didn't show it. "Oh, good morning, Jay. This is a surprise."

Dick stopped with his fork in midair, his eyebrows rising, while Tim cocked his head, looking at her curiously. Jay, however, completely froze, his expression unreadable. Kala was fairly certain it was her sunshine transformation. She couldn't help chuckling; she probably looked a lot different from the previous night, her broken-down demeanor and wounds all healed now after her long soak and back in her usual makeup. Though her training wasn't over and she was certain that she'd have to tone it down again, it had just been so long since she'd felt this good. It was like having been ill for months, fighting a particularly strong cold, only to wake up one day to feel strong and wonderful again. She'd cherish however long she could feel like this.

From his place at the end of the table, Bruce simply said, "I thought we agreed that you would limit your sun exposure," not even looking up from the paper.

Annnd here we go. I knew it. Knew it the minute I went up. Oh well, hopefully Jay will back me if he nails me to the ground, but it's not his job to bail me out. I needed it. Kala winced, trying to come up with an explanation that didn't involve personal injury.

"Yeah, well, change of plans," Jay cut in, shrugging. "She's been so run-down lately, I thought she was coming down with the flu or something. She proved last night she can fight without powers, so I told her to get a sun-soak."

Bruce stared at Jay, and Jay stared back. Several seconds ticked by as they locked gazes, no one speaking. Kala still wasn't privy to what'd been discussed when Jay had told Bruce he wanted to train her, but just the look passed between them told her with sure clarity that Bruce had been testing Jay as much as herself, and this was just another pop quiz.

Finally, to break the tension, Kala added, "You know, Dad said once that our metabolisms partly run on sunlight. It's like going without an essential vitamin—in the long-term, it could actually be dangerous."

"So … you're … no, wait. You and Jase are part plant?" Tim asked, one corner of his mouth tugging up as he clearly fought a grin. "Wonderful, next time we deal with Ivy we'll bring you in and let you explain how you're one of her people."

"She's not always wrong, you know," Kala shot back easily, thanking Alfred with a sweet smile for the coffee that appeared at her elbow. "On a lot of environmental issues, I can't disagree with her. It's just that she's so freaking crazy-pants over some things, her legit points get buried in the landslide of 'zomg super-villain psycho'."

Tim's reply was deadpan. "Kala, she killed a guy for spraying Round-Up on weeds growing in the sidewalk cracks. I don't know about you, but I think the 'psycho' part is justified."

"Yeah, yeah, she's a nutjob, but she does have a point sometimes. It's just that no one listens to her at all because of all the other stuff. Do you have any idea how much knowledge she could share if we stopped for a minute?" Kala groused. This was a losing battle and she knew it; it was just going to be a question of which of them bit the dust this time.

But thankfully, it didn't take long. "All right then. If you're going to start defending villains, I'm going to have to ignore you until you finish your coffee," Dick said, provoking an eye roll from her and a side-eye from Jay. This wasn't the first time he and Kala had argued this particular point. "And in the meantime, I'll just be over here, reading my magazine." And with that and an obvious glance at each other, he and Tim both opened up their copies.

Looking up from her breakfast to snap out a retort and glare at them both sourly, Kala froze. Whatever she'd been about to say died on her lips. Shit. Not today. Seeing the twin covers of this month's GQ, with a shot she'd been promised would be on the interior, Kala groaned. It had to be the one with the damn leather jacket, didn't it? In worrying how soon she'd have to do damage-control, she completely missed the way Jay's jaw dropped at the picture. "Dammit, that dropped today?"

Dick grinned devilishly. "Was in the mail before we even woke up this morning. The infamous photo-shoot starring our own Kala finally makes its debut after much discussion in these hallways." She wanted to wad up her napkin and throw it at him. From the moment Bruce had protested it, she'd known she'd given Dick a reason to harass her. Might as well just take the medicine.

"Let's see, Kala, we have the cover with the jacket." Gesturing grandly, Dick proudly turned the magazine around for the whole table to see.

"Which was not supposed to be on the cover, thanks very much," Kala snapped, cheeks flushing. She'd known it was going to happen, she had known.

"Looks like we missed out on a little because of the lettering," Dick added.

"Thank God for small favors," Kala shot back. Mercifully they'd cropped out the rest of the shot; the shirt had been longer on her. It had all been leg, but she knew she'd have heard about that.

Dick, meanwhile, rattled on with his showman's tones. "And you're on the index, too, in … a white shirt and not much else. With like three buttons buttoned. You look gorgeous, though." Helpfully, he opened the magazine and showed it to her as Kala blushed hotly.

"Yeah, and it's damn conservative compared to most other magazine's editorial shoots. I'm not showing anything too revealing, wise guy, so there. You guys are ridiculous. You act like you've never see a girl in a dress shirt before. Grayson, give me that magazine! Like you even have room to talk, King of Spandex," she growled through clenched teeth. Ever the gentleman, he did so, smirking at her expense. Kala just glared back in embarrassment. "Thanks, Richard."

Not one to just let it die down when he knew that he had something else he could razz his best friend over regarding his sister, the youngest of the boys just grinned deviously. "I dunno, Dick, I'm kinda partial to the one in the chair with green heels and the striped socks," Tim said, and he yelped as Jay stole his copy. "Hey! Get your own subscription, Todd!"

Jay looked at the page, looked at Tim, looked back at the page, and looked at Tim again. "Drake, her skirt is transparent and all you noticed was the socks? What kind of foot fetish do you have?"

It's what? Immediately her brain was flashing back through the shoot and everything she'd worn. God, why hadn't she been paying more attention that afternoon? She should've gone back on the scheduled afternoon to see the contacts rather than allow Jenna to choose them for her, but Bruce had laid down the law that day and she'd buckled. Dammit, she should have gone herself.

The horror on Kala's face just made their amusement worse, and she felt herself going pale under her blush. She was going to be on the phone to her agent so fast. Pawing through the magazine, she flipped at speed until she found the shot. Oh God, it is transparent. Jase is going to kill me. And Dad…. God, you just know someone's going to bring it up at work. Mom's just going to laugh at me. Shit.But she kept it all inside, only allowing herself a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

Jay, of course, was flipping back through. Oh well, let's just make the humiliation complete. "Hmm, index is nice, gotta love the black nail polish. So very Goth Queen. Oh, and page 106 is nice, too. All sprawled all over the floor," he commented with a suggestively raised brow.

Okay, that tore it. Dick and Tim teasing her for her carelessness was one thing, but somehow, Jay even mock-leering at her photos was just too much. Especially after last night when she'd been struggling not to puke into his gut wound while she stitched it. Seeing his taunting grin now was just too much of a disconnect for Kala, after weeks of training, of barely getting even a tight grin out of him at times. He'd been so tough, so down on her for so long, that this level of playing around left her confused and a little hurt. Kala had no idea how to take it except as an insult. "Give me that!" she yelped, reaching across the table, but Jay leaned away.

"What's your problem?" Tim asked with a laugh, oblivious, shrugging. "It's a nationwide magazine with high circulation, Kala. You knew that when you posed for it. And it means more ticket sales for the band, you said it yourself. Just calm down. It's not like everyone in the country's not gonna see it."

Oh, the scowl that she shot him. The worst part was that Tim was right. It was just that it didn't present as well as she'd hoped it would. "Sure, Timmy, but not everyone in the country eats breakfast with me! And it's not like I don't know that you'll be on the phone to Lizardboy the minute we're done eating." On her feet then, she tried to grab the magazine out of Jay's hands. "Seriously, Jay, give me the damn thing before I rip it out of your hands!"

"No, the next page is way better. I like a girl who can laugh about taking her shirt off."

"I was not taking my shirt off, that's a candid, you ass!" Kala fumed through gritted teeth. Never in her life had she been so ready to kick her own ass. Why couldn't she have timed the shoot for before she'd come to Gotham? Unlike Morgan, Robb, Ned, and Sebast, who would've hooted but given her an ego boost over it, this was like being in a house full of clones of her brother. Only, ones who weren't too embarrassed to point out the sexy stuff. God, why did she do this while she was here? What had made her think she could do both things at the same time, no problem? Biggest mistake ever. "The damn photographer wanted me to smile and told me to think of my boyfriend, and I said I didn't have one at the moment, so he said, 'Oh, right, Goth band, think of your girlfriend' and I cracked up!"

"And why is that funny?" Dick asked speculatively.

"Because I just broke up with my girlfriend two months ago, and she's in the industry, so hush," Kala spat, not even thinking about the tidbit of information she was dropping, then redoubled her efforts to snatch the magazine away. "Jay. I am not kidding!"

"You're not kidding on page 102 either," he said thoughtfully. And was that a look of pleasant surprise in his eyes after the girlfriend remark? Kala thought it was, and could've kicked herself again. "And what is this, the photographer outlawed pants or something? Are you wearing anything but the shirt there? Because you can't tell at all. Nice back-lighting through the open half of the shirt, too."

Kala's eyes heated briefly then, as she tried not to be mortified. She'd taken a chance with the shots with the button-up. They'd been very tastefully done, bathed in bright light, and everything had been covered. They'd honestly been her favorites of the shoot. But now … Kala's lip curled up in a vicious sneer, her face fever-hot, and the next thing anyone knew, the magazine had been forcibly ripped from Jay's grip, and Kala was across the room with both copies in hand. "That's it; if you can't do anything but act like you've never seen a girl before, you don't need them. Every one of you has the emotional maturity of a thirteen-year-old," she snapped, and pitched both magazines into the garbage can. She couldn't remember being more self-conscious in her life.

"No superpowers in the house," Bruce reminded her blandly, sipping his coffee and never taking his eyes off his copy of today's Gotham Gazette. When Kala just stared at him with singular fury, unable to believe he hadn't made the slightest effort to rein in his wayward sons—as if he would ever imply that she was unable to deal with the situation herself—he added, "If you have this much energy, you could put some of it to use by washing the cars after breakfast. And do the Lamborghini first, I'm driving it in to work today."

Kala scowled, her eyes narrowing, but she didn't say a word as she stalked back to her chair and dropped into it. Jay, however, just couldn't seem to let the subject of her photo shoot go. "And if you've still got that semi-transparent shirt from the shoot, I suggest you wear that. It'd be just the thing. Maybe those twits from the Tattler will catch a glimpse through the telephoto lens and get you some more publicity."

Well, she'd had more than enough of this. Resisting the urge to aim and fling her fork at his head, she turned her narrowed eyes on the man himself, making it clear that she was done with this. Playtime was over. At this table, in this situation, he wasn't her trainer and they weren't working. It was her turn to bluntly say what she thought. "You know what, Jay? Quit pushing your luck. The main reason you're being a douche is because you just realized that you can't handle this. So you can kiss my sweet Kryptonian ass!" she spat before she could think better of it.

By the surprise in Jay's eyes, he'd just now caught on to the fact that he'd really ticked her off, and he shut his mouth with a snap.

Then Kala remembered who else was in the room, how she'd been trying incredibly hard to curb her swearing in front of the rest of the Bats, and glanced over at Alfred with a pained expression. Wow, what a way to break an impression to pieces. She added in a small voice, "Sorry, Alfred. It was provoked."

"Pardon me, Miss Kala, I'm afraid I didn't hear a word," he replied graciously.

And at least that was a relief. The rest of breakfast went more quietly, the boys still snickering at random moments and Kala just fuming and glaring at them, at least until her phone went off. The ring tone was mariachi music, which made everyone stare at her as her eyes lit up. Oh, thank God. Someone who would appreciate the issue. She should've known that the boys would've gotten theirs a little earlier. The anger drained from her as she stood up. "Sorry, guys, but I have to take this. I swear I'll be back to help with dishes," she told them, leaving the room to take the call in the hallway.

…

Last night Kala had been the most miserable and pathetic thing Jay had seen all month, and all he'd wanted to do was protect her. Now, though, with a little sunlight in her, she was feisty as hell, talking smack to all of them even when they were ganging up to tease her.

Jay hadn't seen Kala this animated since … well, he'd never seen her quite this animated. The sun had apparently made a hell of a difference. He didn't remember her being this vibrant even before they started the sun-starvation in earnest, but then, Bruce had mentioned not getting any extra sun. He couldn't help wondering if this was what she was like all the time in her regular life.

Then there was that photo shoot… He was definitely seeing her in a whole new light today. A light that made him glad he was sitting down at a table and could focus on decidedly un-sexy breakfast food for a few minutes.

But when her phone rang out of the blue—mariachi music, really?—and Kala scampered out of the kitchen, practically bouncing on her toes as she went, Jay's interest was piqued. It obviously wasn't her golden-boy Big Blue Jr. brother, not to put that expression on her face. Intrigued, he finished his coffee and stood up; by then it was safe to do so. "I've … got stuff to do," he said to no one in particular by way of excuse, but on the way out he stopped to nod to Alfred, "Thanks. For everything."

"My pleasure, Master Jason," came the old butler's reply with a gentle pat on Jay's shoulder, and that was enough to tell him that, yep, everything since he'd come in the night before had been Alfred's doing.

Making his exit, Jay found Kala in the hallway, phone glued to her ear, grinning like a lotto winner. "I miss you, too, Chupi," she said in syrupy tones Jay had never heard her use. God, it was almost sickening, the sweet way she spoke. And … and he probably shouldn't be eavesdropping like this, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him, a tiny ember of … of something he couldn't quite name growing in his chest, and he couldn't just walk away now.

Who the hell was 'Chupi', anyway? Did Dick know about this?

Finding a concealed spot from where he could listen and not be heard—at least, he hoped, considering Kala's focus was pretty well trained on whoever she was talking to—Jay settled in to take in the conversation.

"Yeah, feeling a lot better than last night. I got a full night's sleep, finally. Hey, did you and the boys get your copies of GQ?" She paused, and he heard the smile in her voice when she continued. "Aww, thank you. At least someone knows how to give a compliment… Oh, the Wayne boys are being jerks. I didn't think about the fact that everyone here subscribes to GQ, too." She laughed then, a carefree merry laugh. "Oh, please. It's not like that! … Hey, listen, serious question here. The pictures don't look too … slutty do they?"

Jay could practically hear her wince at whatever this Chupi said to that. "Calm down, nobody told me I look slutty, and I don't think you could get past security to kick their asses, anyway. I didn't think about how some of those would come out, and the boys just like to tease. You remember that I had to let Jenna okay the contacts because I couldn't get there? Yeah, big mistake. Should've known it would be the showier ones that would make it in. And I didn't know that green skirt was transparent, so I'm a little self-conscious. I should've been more involved with it."

She laughed again at whatever response that got, a low amused sound. "Gracias, señor Gomez," Kala purred, with the appropriate accent. "I really do miss you, you know… I wish I could! Uncle Bruce is keeping me running around, and there's that charity thing this weekend. It's crazy… I know."

The other person spoke for a while, and Kala chuckled. "Yeah, well, you deserve to suffer. Whose idea was it to take Robb to the taco truck? … Exactly. I wouldn't do anything that stupid." Another pause, and her voice softened. "I'm counting the days, trust me. God, we haven't been apart like this in how long?"

Just who the hell was she talking to? The wistfulness in her voice was obvious, and it set Jay's teeth on edge for no reason he could name.

Finally, Kala said, "I've got to go; I promised I'd help wash dishes… Yes, of course Bruce Wayne can afford a dishwasher; he just says chores build character. I'll call you tomorrow. I promise… Te amo." When she flipped her phone shut, she leaned her head back against the wall and sighed heavily.

Oh, that cracked it. Jay remembered plenty enough Spanish to know damn well what 'te amo' meant, and it was way too damn obvious that Kala had meant every syllable. He just didn't know why he even gave a flying fuck; a couple of traded sutures and a mutual appreciation for guns didn't exactly make for a relationship, not even in Gotham.

But that wasn't even the worst of it. What stuck in his mind was the 'slutty' comment. How in the hell could Kala think she'd looked slutty in those pics? Jay knew from slutty, and no way in hell did Big Blue's daughter fit that bill.

And shit, it was him and Dick and Tim that'd put that thought in her head in the first place. Fucking fantastic.

He was so busy berating himself, Jay almost didn't hear her droll voice. She didn't sound upset as much as irritated, when she called him out, "Are you seriously gonna hide over there skulking in the shadows, Jay? Or are you just gonna file away my private conversations for later use? As if you didn't get enough of an eyeful in the kitchen. And don't bother trying to sneak away; I can literally hear you breathing, and I can hear your heart beating like a jackhammer."

An ice-cold spike of adrenaline shot up Jay's back at Kala's questioning, and he knew he'd been caught red-handed. Fuck.