The following is rated MATURE for gratuitous violence, sex, and mild language. You've been warned... And you're welcome!

KISS AND CONTROL

"Are you serious?"

Tim, Dick, Jason, & Roy. Three little Robins and one tag-along archer, stand idly by. Arms crossed and eyebrows raised, staring down at the fluffy orange tabby sitting guard before the closed study door. Where just inside, both Klarion the Warlock and Helena, their sister and friend, have locked themselves away for a nice little chat. One in which they weren't invited, much to their chagrin. And Teekl to make sure it stays that way. With them out here and out of the way.

With those two, great big, shiny green orbs of eyes staring up at them, the fuzzball of a familiar hardly seems the threatening type. Jason motions to barge past the furry obstruction, but his "brother", Dick, holds out an arm to stop him.

"Trust me... You don't want to do that."

If there's one thing he's learned over the years, magic or not, all cats have claws. No matter how cute and cuddly the kitty. Or how domesticated. Deep down, there's a wild animal underneath.

As are we all.

"Might I say how positively radiant you look this evening?" Klarion croons.

Both he and Helena stand at opposite ends of the small study. Him, by the wall of vintage books. Leaning on the corner of an old antique Davenport. And she, just a couple yards away but at the complete other end. Standing guardedly by the restored wingback chair and Tiffany reading lamp.

"Yeah, and you look like sick grey meat." Helena spits in return.

It's true. He doesn't look well. Much paler than usual. His normal vibrant blue reduced to a much more watered-down hue. It's pretty alarming, actually. He musn't be treating himself well. Maybe not eating or sleeping as he should. Perhaps not even meditating, as per his usual regiment. And that look he's giving her. There's a hunger in his eyes. A deep and painful desperation. A hurt. It would break her heart if she weren't already so infuriated with him.

"What are you doing here, Klarion?"

Again she asks and again he replies the same as before.

"To wish you the most happiest of birthdays, my dearest." He replies matter-of-factly, stating the obvious as if she should have already known.

Helena folds her arms across her chest and glares at the Warlock.

"You said you'd leave me alone if I-"

"Said you love HIM? Yes, well I lied. Though I'm sure you must be used to that by now. Since you don't TRUST me and all." Klarion interjects spitefully. "And... Speaking of said boyfriend. Where is he tonight? I haven't been able to find him anywhere."

There's a glint of mischief and mystery to his obsidian eyes. His tone a touch playful and dark. Though curious, Helena hasn't a clue what such a look would be for. She has no knowledge of Kevin and Klarion's ill-fated run-in that night. And she doesn't care to press the issue, either. She just wants the witch gone.

"Perhaps it's for the best. It would seem you've already moved on to new pastures, anyhow." Klarion sighs wistfully. "Wouldn't want the current flame around to put a damper on your new love interest."

Again, Helena hasn't a clue what Klarion is going on about. He's stirring the pot about something, trying to get a rise out of her. That's for sure.

"What are you talking about?" She groans, rolling her eyes.

Klarion chuckles, if not forcefully. He's acting coy, but one could tell he's hurting.

"That Harper fellow." He explains in a lighthearted tone. "You two really seemed to hit it off tonight. Laughing and cavorting about. Two archers. You really couldn't ask for a much more perfectly suited pair."

Helena can't help but burst out laughing.

"ROY?! You're JOKING, right?" She sucks in a giggle. "TRUST ME. Nothing's going on between us. Like... EVER! I mean really... The guy puts the ARSE in Arsenal. He's SO not my type."

Klarion chuckles darkly along with her, though he hardly finds the humor in it. His mind's already planning his next move. And it's a low blow.

"My fault." He shrugs indifferently. "And here I thought your TYPE was anything with two legs and a dic-"

"Just WHAT are you insinuating?" Helena's quick to cut in.

Now he's got her heated. He can't help but grin.

"I'm just stating the obvious, my love." Klarion sing-songs sweetly. "You're a whore."

Like lightning, Helena bridges the gap between them. Crossing the small room in four long strides. My how that temper of hers is ever so humorous. It's adorable, really. And predictable.

"Say it again." Helena shakes with anger. "I dare you."

Chest to chest, she's completely put herself in his personal space as well as in his face. A typical move she likes to play when angered. A means to dominate the situation and intimidate her prey. But he isn't backing down from her. Especially tonight. Not when he has so very much to say.

That devilish grin of his widens further. Staring down at her from the tip of his nose.

"Whore."

The scene plays out like their rooftop dance so very long ago. The back and forth bickering. The verbal abuse. Pushing each other to their limits. Not to mention, that same trigger word that makes her arm wind back. That one word he was never ever to use ever EVER again, less he feel her wrath.

Closed fist, Helena swings for his face, but this time he's ready. Klarion phases himself out of harms way. Instead of making contact with that button nose of his, she hits the Davenport instead.

"That had to hurt!" Klarion laughs, reappearing just a step to the right.

The Huntress is never one to miss her mark. Hunched over, Helena holds her wounded hand. She'd nearly crushed it against the solid oak desk, almost punching a hole straight through. It very well could have been his face. Right between the eyes.

"I gave you EVERYTHING. What MORE do you want from me?" Helena shouts through the pain. "Kitrina's GONE! Get it through your skull and stop living in the past! We're OVER! DONE! Every last bit of her life I gave to you so I could MOVE ON! I gave you Roanoke. All my money-"

"MONEY? You think you can just BUY me so easily with your ill-gotten gains? Don't think me so naive, SWEETHEART. I know that money you so graciously stuck me with were Catgirl's fruits of crime." Klarion seethes. He hadn't expected to get so angered. "Did you really think that by laundering your dirty money through me, you could keep your lily-white hands clean? Or maybe that by throwing a heap-load of cash my way you could just make me go away, is that it?"

For the first time, Klarion actually lets his anger come to surface. All that pain he's felt. All the disdain at her leaving him. For faking her death. For lying to him. For betraying him so. For moving on and finding another man. And sleeping with said man. For breaking her promise to him, their bond, to love him and only him for as long as they both shall live.

All that bitterness. That animosity. He can finally allow himself to hate her for what she's done to him. For hurting him so greatly and making him feel this way. For breaking his heart. He can finally let it all out and give her a piece of his mind.

"I gave you my SOUL, you wretched HARLOT! And for WHAT?! For a fist-full of silver and lies? Tell me, I deserve to know that much. Did you ever even LOVE me? REALLY love me? Or was that too all an act?" Klarion's eyes sting, but he hasn't the tears to cry anymore. And even if he could, he wouldn't want to. He's through crying over her. "Is Roanoke my parting gift for putting up with YEARS of torment? The HEARTACHE you put me through for making me miss you so? Do you even FEEL remorse? Any SYMPATHY for what you've put me through? Or are you really that DEAD inside? You despicable waste of spa-"

"RAAAAGHHHHHHHH..."

In a fit of rage, Helena charges him, catching the witch completely off guard this time by her uncontrollable fury.

A loud crash rings out from the other side of the door, followed by the sound of books falling off their shelves and some very loud shouting. It almost sounds like two animals have been set loose inside the study. Rolling around and breaking things. Shattering glass and getting into an all-out brawl.

"What the hell was that?" Jason jumps at what sounds like a bolt of lightning.

"You think we should go in there?" Tim asks rather meekly.

Still as a statue, Teekl stands guard. He doesn't budge a muscle at the whole commotion. Just growls a low warning at the group of would-be heroes. There's no getting in. So they better not try anything.

"Sure..." Dick replies warily, staring down at the fluffy familiar. "Be my guest."

It's a war zone inside the study. Complete and utter chaos.

Trained by both the Bat and Cat, Helena's fighting style is typically well-orchestrated and disciplined. Carrying with it, an air of grace and finesse. But this is anything but. This is dirty and ruthless. Complete with hair-pulling and eye-gouging. Scratching and biting. Feral and fierce.

Helena has Klarion bent over backwards across the desk. Him, with his hands around her throat and she, digging a thumb into his eye socket. He spits in her face and she knees him in the stomach.

The Warlock doubles over from the blow, but he doesn't have time to nurse his wounds just yet. Not when the next attack is imminent. An uppercut to the jaw, sending him flying back against the bookshelf.

Helena readies to pounce on her fallen, but the witch isn't down for the count just yet. A surge of adrenaline and he's up again. Leaping up and over the desk, a shrill battle cry on his lips as he overtakes the Huntress.

It's a proud moment. As a witch, he's never been one for physical violence. Whatever magic couldn't solve, his familiar could handle for him. He'd never been in a fist fight and he's never had to get his hands dirty before. So taking down such a worthy opponent should be commendable. Too bad he's not in any position to pat himself on the back right now.

Klarion tackles Helena and together they fall backward, crashing to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs. Punching and kicking. Flailing about wildly and screeching like a pair of cats.

There's no honor in this duel. No cred of a street fight. Not even the bragging rights of a school yard rumble. It's nothing but unbridled rage, thrown about aimlessly. Fueled by emotion and targeted at each other.

The Warlock has her pinned to the floor. A bit of magic and the rug comes alive to form restraints around her arms and legs. Though it doesn't take long for the former thief to escape. As if anything could possibly contain her right now.

Helena wraps her legs around his back, digging her sharp heels into his spine. Klarion howls in pain before latching down onto her neck. He digs his teeth in like a Rottweiler, refusing to let go until she, herself, let's up. She screams at the sudden sharp sensation of his teeth sinking into her flesh. But she doesn't give in. Even with the warm gush of blood seeping down her dress, she's much too stubborn. It's just not encoded in her DNA to lose.

Instead, Helena fights harder. More frantically. Clawing erratically at any and all exposed flesh. Turning his blue skin red with thousands of scratch marks. Tearing off his jacket to form particularly deep gashes down his sides.

Another yowl in pain and he lets go. Crimson staining his lips and throat.

And then there's silence. They've come to a standstill.

Klarion glares down at her and she, up at him from her position on the floor beneath him. Their eyes electric and wild. Their teeth bared and lips snarling. A low growl in his belly and she, her chest heaving.

He licks his lips, taking her into his body. Tasting her as he has never tasted her before. So warm and alive. And in that moment he wants more. Giving in completely to the animal inside him. That instinct. That drive. The sound of silence replaced by his own pulse whoosing in his ears.

The ceasefire ends and a new battle begins.

Klarion smashes his lips to hers and she equally accepts, gnashing her teeth against his. It's not exactly kissing. Far from any sort of affection as they forcefully grope one another. Tearing at the other's clothing hastily. Quickly removing only what needs to be removed. No time to taste the fruit, just get down to business.

Helena tosses his belt halfway across the room, yanking down his pants. Klarion hikes her dress up around her navel and unceremoniously mounts her. He spreads her legs wide and enters her swiftly. Thrusting into her hard and making her howl.

"It's quiet in there..." Roy whispers, stating the sudden lack of noise coming from the closed-off room. "You think they... KILLED each other?"

They all look to the familiar for answers. As if the tabby would suddenly open his mouth and say something more than an intelligible meow.

"This is stupid." Jason groans, pushing past Dick to place his ear to the door.

Suddenly his eyes grow wide.

"So?" Dick asks a strangely sick looking Todd. He's never seen the hard-ass so green around the gills before. "What's going on in there?"

It's been quite the dry spell. Six long years since their last romp. Klarion should savor the moment, enjoy the euphoria and satisfying bliss, but his lizard brain is stuck in gear. To call it love-making would be a mockery to the word 'love'. Sex would be a gross overstatement. It's simply mating. Nothing satisfying about it. Purely animal.

The Warlock takes his mate into his arms, gathering her up and carrying her the short distance to the toppled over chair. Grunting as he bends her over and penetrates from behind.

It's a surprise she lets him manhandle her this way. Always one to be in control, she lets him have his way with her. Giving in to him completely. Letting him dominate her so. And as sick as it may seem, she enjoys it. His hands strongly gripping her thighs. His teeth on her neck, growling into her skin.

Together, they take the term angry sex to a whole new level. Helena reaches behind and balls her fist into his hair, pulling it painfully tight and making him hiss. He replies by slamming into her. Drilling her harder and faster than he's ever before. Like an amped up jack hammer, just pounding away at her with such ferocity. Sliding his swollen blue member in and out of her slick pink warmth.

And she takes it. Everything he's got. The two going at it so rough, it's a wonder the already once restored chair doesn't break again under their weight. Creaking and groaning along with them as they bang themselves against it.

"CODE BLUE! CODE BLUE!" A voice frantically yells from the comm in Tim's ear. "The BAT has left the BELFRY. I repeat, the BAT-"

Finger to his ear, Tim looks up in terror. He needn't even hear the last of Barbara's warning, he can see for himself just who's coming their way.

"What are you boys doing? Something's going on behind my back and I don't like it. Why is everyone acting so strange? And why is Barbara tailing me?" Bruce Wayne's baritone booms down the hallway towards them. "And has anyone seen Helena? We're about to cut the cake."

Even in his party attire, Bruce brings with him an air of authority and intimidation. Stopping in front of the group of boys, none dare look him in the eye. All too afraid to answer. Just standing there, staring at their shoes and rubbing their necks. None want to be the bearer of such news. Telling "daddy" his little girl is in the other room with some strange blue man. Opening her birthday present...

Bruce notices Teekl, sitting awkwardly by. He raises an eyebrow and the two stare each other down.

"Klarion's in there, isn't he? The Bat addresses the group flatly.

All nod, not giving up any details.

"Are they being civil?"

Again, they nod.

"Well..." Bruce begins with a warm smile. For once, he's completely oblivious. "It's nice to see they're getting along again."

Roy snickers and Jay jabs him in the ribs with his elbow.

"That's one way of putting it." The red head snorts.

White knuckled, Helena grabs hold of Klarion's hand, linking her fingers with his. She's come twice already and he's still going strong.

Quite truthfully, she doesn't know how much more of his punishment she can take. She's to the point of exhaustion. Her knees are shaking so badly, they may buckle at any moment.

Not that she's complaining. It's absolutely sinful how good this feels. All the pain and the pleasure of it all. She probably won't be able to sit for a week, but Lord knows she's needed this. And maybe wanted it just as badly.

Klarion gives her hand a sharp squeeze and clenches his teeth. His body tenses. A tell he too has reached his limit. His free arm snakes around her waist, pressing her against him so tight.

He gives one final thrust, inserting himself so deeply, it hurts. Her breath hitches at the sensation. Feeling him throb within her. That sudden rush. The pain so great, it feels amazing. Bringing her to climax for the third time tonight. This time right alongside him.

His sack constricts tightly, expelling its contents of thick, milky lust. Right to the very brim, he fills her with his heat. Klarion buries his head into her hair and groans deeply. A primal yowl rising up from deep within his lungs.

And just like that, it's over. His body limp, he stands there inside her until the aftershocks have subsided. Until the very last of his seed has been spent, before removing himself from her vessel. It gushes forth and trickles down her thigh.

With shaky legs, he stumbles back, falling on his ass. Breathless, she slumps down to the floor. Sitting across from one another amid the destruction they've made.

The torn rug and broken furniture. Priceless antiques ruined. Irreplaceable books strewn about and lost forever. The scent of sweat mixed with the sweet stench of blood and sex in the air.

Panting from exhaustion, they stare vacantly at one another. Wondering what the hell just happened. Helena clutching her wounded neck and Klarion his side. His eyes glued to the scarlet of her torn flesh. Far worse than the love bite he'd given her the very first time they'd made love.

A sense of clarity overtakes him. His head clears as he comes down from the bliss. For the first time in so long he can think straight and see the full extent of the monster he'd become.

Teekl was right. Just as the witch's familiar had reverted to his most basic instincts and ran ramped one long Valentine night, so too has Klarion. Maybe not the same murderous spree that Teekl had endured, but perhaps just as destructive.

He said he'd never hurt her. No matter how lost he'd gotten, how far he'd spiraled downward. He'd never meant for this.

It makes him sick to his stomach. How could he have let himself get so carried away? He'd lost all control.

Sure, he was angry. And yeah, he hates her right now. But still...

"I... I should go." Klarion says softly, his voice so hoarse and dry.

Helena only nods. She's still so dumbstruck. So astonished of what they did and what she let him do. So ashamed. So disgusted in herself... How is she going to explain this to her father? Her guests? Herself? She's so confused right now. She doesn't even want to acknowledge him.

And so he leaves in a puff of red. In and out of her life like a yo-yo. Never knowing just when he'll show up again. Every time feeling this time it's for good. A part of her relieved at the thought. And a part of her dying.

From somewhere in the manor, Helena can hear people singing. It's her birthday, after all. And she'd be damned if she can't cry if she wants to.

Smutty smut smut... I love smut.

Hope you all enJOYed. Sorry this chapter was a bit of a long one but hopefully it will leave you satisfied for a little while. I'll be off on vacation for the next couple weeks. Visiting the REAL Gotham... Dirty Jersey and the ol' Big Apple. Catching up with mi familia. When we get back, we're off and running on a bit of a time jump. Welcome to the next arc! So stay tuned and send 'em reviews. xoxo