Author's Note: Kind of a strong "T" in this chapter, and ONE use of the "f" word. I tried to avoid using it, but there seemed to be no other adequate substitute.

Star City

Thanksgiving Night

November 22nd

Jade watched with fondness as Paula, her mother, sat with Lian by the window in the house that Jade and Roy shared, and, for the first time in a long time, felt a measure of peace.

The restlessness that so often disturbed her mind was at bay, her family was surrounding her, and she and Roy were – good.

Very good. So good, in fact, that Jade was ready to take the next step in life – a step that she had not even dreamed possible, but that had taken her by surprise – by marvelous, wonderful surprise.

The only discordant note left in her life sat on a sofa in the family room watching football with Roy. A six-and-a-half foot mass of strife with blond hair and a bad attitude. Who was probably, even now, plotting a whole world of hurt for Roy, and, by extension, her and Lian. And Paula. And Artemis. And Wally.

Jade pushed off the doorjamb where she had been leaning. "Dinner's ready!"

"About time." Larry grumbled, and Jade wanted to throw the wooden spoon she held at his head.

Roy jumped up with alacrity and came over to his wife, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "It smells delicious. Aren't we waiting for Artemis and Wally?"

She smiled and straightened the shirt on his broad shoulders. God, he's sexy, she thought, and felt the familiar tug at her loins. "They'll get here. Wally knows there's free food. He'll be here."

As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it. You help your mom with Lian."

Jade nodded and watched Roy's butt in his jeans as he walked away from her. She wondered again how she had been so lucky to get him; he was so damn good – in every way.

"Faster, Grandma!" Lian was bouncing up and down on Paula's knee as the older woman was wheeling her way to the dining room, and Jade moved to grab her daughter, but Larry got there first.

"I'll get her." He said gruffly. "Just get the food on the table, little girl."

"Thanks, Dad."

Paul cracked a small smile at her ex-husband and followed her daughter. "I'll help, Jade. After all, I can hold a lot on this chair."

"Okay, Mom. Thanks."

Although Paula had some trouble maneuvering into the kitchen, she was able to take the basket of rolls as well as the gravy and the cranberry. "I knew this chair was good for something." She smiled.

Jade followed her, a platter of turkey in her hands.

"I smell turkey!" Wally's voice preceded him.

Artemis and Wally stood in the dining room, Artemis with Lian in her arms.

"Wally, you can smell turkey five miles away! Honestly." Artemis rolled her eyes as she kissed her mother and moved to Jade. "Larry behaving?" She asked, for Jade's ears only.

"He hasn't shot anyone." Jade and her sister exchanged kisses.

Artemis pulled back, a smile on her face. "Give him time."

"Hey, Jade." Wally came over and kissed his soon-to-be sister-in-law, and showed her a bottle of wine. "North Florida wine – white."

Her eyes slid to Roy, who suppressed a smile. "G – reat, Wally. Thanks."

Wally smiled in satisfaction, and set the bottle in the middle of the table with a flourish.

Roy clapped him on the shoulder. "You made good time from Central City."

"Yeah, well, zeta'd. You know."

"Did you eat a lot at your mom's?"

"Ah, well, actually, it was at the Garricks. And yeah, Joan makes a mean pumpkin pie." He turned to Jade. "But don't worry! I left room for dinner here."

"I never worry about you not eating enough, Wally." Her tone was dry.

He gave her a thumbs up, and turned – right into Larry, and stopped short. "Larry." He said, and his voice dropped a manly octave.

"West." Larry's tone was clipped.

"Dad!" Artemis called from the other room, where she had gone with Lian. "Could you please come get Lian's high chair?"

"She is not still using that, is she?" Paula asked.

"Last time, Mom. We don't have enough chairs otherwise." Jade explained.

"Let her be, Paula. She's only this age once." Larry chided.

"Dad! Any day now!" Artemis called.

Larry knew a distraction when he heard one, but was willing to let himself be distracted. He walked from the room with a glare at Wally, and the younger man moved to kiss Paula.

"As gorgeous as usual, Paula. Did you get your hair cut? It looks great!" Wally smiled at the woman in the wheelchair.

"Oh, Wally. Stop!" Paula gave him a gentle slap on the arm, but it was obvious that she was pleased.

"Here comes the train!" Larry's booming voice came from down the hall, accompanied by the squeals of his granddaughter as he pushed the high chair into the dining room.

"Lawrence!" Paula's sharp voice brought him to a halt, although Lian kept squealing her pleasure.

"What?" Her ex-husband's voice was plaintive.

"That is much too dangerous! Roll that chair in slowly."

Roy and Jade again exchanged looks; they were both glad that Paula had called a halt to the shenanigans so that they didn't have to.

Wally, staring wide-eyed at his future in-laws, cleared his throat. "I'll just – get the food." He hurried into the kitchen.

"Me, too." Artemis followed her fiancé.

Wally picked up a large bowl of mashed potatoes, as well as a bowl of yams, the butter dish, and the green bean casserole.

"Whoa, there, babe." Artemis took the casserole and the butter. "Don't be in such a rush."

"Ha. You're funny."

She put the dishes back down, did the same with Wally's, and hooked her arms around his neck. "We have the rest of our very long lives together."

"Yeah, now we do."

"Thanks to the Team."

"Thanks to you." He corrected.

She shrugged. "I was motivated."

They heard a crash from the dining room, and Artemis grimaced.

"Even though, on days like this, I kind of wish I could have stayed dead."

"Wally!" Her face and voice were aghast, and she dropped her arms.

He lifted his hands in defeat. "Kidding. Kidding."

They retrieved the serving dishes, and, by the time they entered the dining room, Roy had nearly finished picking up the drinking glass that Lian had swept from the table.

"The food looks good, Jade." Larry said grudgingly as he settled down next to Paula.

"Thanks, Dad." Jade was genuinely pleased. "I hope that it tastes good."

"Yeah, well, me, too. I'd hate to have to go to Burger King later."

Roy, who had returned from throwing away the broken glass, coughed into his sleeve, trying and failing to quash a laugh, and Jade shot him a dark look as he took a seat. He hurriedly grabbed a roll, ripped it apart, and shoved a piece into his mouth. "It tastes great, Chesh." He said around a wad of food.

"Thank you, Roy." She turned to the rest of her family. "Let's dig in."

Gotham City

Thanksgiving Night

November 22nd

Damian and Dick walked back to the house, and Dick sent his little brother to the kitchen to gorge himself on pumpkin pie under Alfred's solicitous eye.

He then turned his mind to more pressing matters – namely Jason and Bruce. He was concerned about Jason because it was apparent that his brother had been deeply hurt by what he thought was favoritism and insensitivity on Bruce's part. As far as Jason was concerned, Bruce had only decided against continuing on as Batman after the other Robins had been threatened – Jason's treatment at the hands of the Joker had not been the final straw.

Dick could see how Jason might believe that, but he knew that Bruce's reaction was a culmination of all the things that had happened to them over the years. This incident was the catalyst, true, but Bruce was quitting not only because of the sniper, but because of what had happened to Jason.

Dick walked into the darkened family room and stopped short at the sight of Tim sitting on the sofa. "Shit. You scared me. What are you doing sitting in the dark?"

"Reflecting on the errors of my ways."

Dick sat down next to him. "What happened?"

"In Princeton or in Bruce's study?"

"Both, I guess."

Tim sighed. "You know how I said that I'm okay with not being Red Robin?"

"Yeah."

"Well, apparently, I was wrong."

Dick frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that – I've been going out every night. Foiling muggings, stopping car thefts – caught an arsonist."

"And Bruce didn't know?"

"Nope. I don't know how he didn't know. He used to know what I ate for breakfast in the residence hall, for pity's sake."

"And what about flunking out?"

Tim shrugged. "When you go to Princeton, you kind of have to do homework."

"And you haven't been."

Tim shook his head.

"And Cassie?"

Tim gave him a withering look. "Dude, I'm eighteen. I have certain – needs."

"Don't we all? Have you been careful?"

"Of course."

"Good. Because I don't think Bruce would like to be a grandfather just yet."

"Yeah. And I think it would kind of hard for Cassie to be Wondergirl with a baby on her back."

"No kidding. Is Bruce going to talk to Diana – or Cassie's mom?"

"No. Thank God. But I told him I'd talk to Cassie about telling them."

"Better Cassie than you."

"Yeah. Tell me about it. I am not going to Wonder Woman about this."

"And how did Jason find out all this?"

"I told him."

Although Dick was rather hurt by Tim's admission that he had confided in Jason rather than himself, he pushed his hurt feelings aside. "When?"

"He was in Jersey a couple of weeks ago for his job and he called me, and we hung out. And Cassie happened to show up."

"Oh." Dick looked into the dark, wondering why Tim hadn't confided in him. There was a time when his brother would have told him everything. That time, it seemed, was in the past. "So what are you going to do?"

"About school? Go in on Monday and ask three of my professors for an incomplete and then work like hell over Christmas break." He sighed again. "So that means I won't come home until Christmas Eve, go back the day after, and come back for New Year's. Cassie's going to be pissed. We were supposed to go skiing with her mom. Of course, maybe now her mom won't want me anywhere near Cassie."

"So no vacation for you?"

"Not so much."

"And Red Robin?"

"Hang it up. For good, this time. Although Bruce said that I can swing while I'm here – until he's ready to shut operations down."

"I'm sorry, bro."

"Don't be. It's not your fault. It is totally mine."

"Still, I don't like you to have a hard time of it."

"Thanks, Dick." He slapped his brother on the thigh and stood up. "Although I should be sympathizing with you."

Dick's brows raised. "Why?"

"Because Bruce is a lot more pissed at you than me."

Dick ran his hands through his hair. "Shit."

"And he told me to tell you to go talk to him when you came back."

Dick grimaced. "Can you pretend you didn't see me?"

Tim shook his head in sympathy. "Wouldn't matter if I did. You know you're going to have to talk to him sooner or later, and you also know it's best not to let him stew."

Dick sighed and stood up. "Yeah, you're right."

"Good luck."

"Thanks. I think I'm gonna need it."

Dick waited until Tim had gone, and then reluctantly dragged himself to his father's office. He didn't want to go in. In fact, there was nothing that he wanted to do less than face Bruce, but he knew that he had to.

He knocked at the closed door, and was rewarded with an invitation to enter. Opening the door slowly, he peered in.

"Come in, Dick."

He did as he was bade, closed the door, and stopped just inside, rocking on his heels.

"We need to talk." Bruce's voice was icy.

"Yeah, I know." He approached the desk, where Bruce sat. "Have you heard from Jason?"

"No. And I won't. He'll disappear again."

"I can look for him."

"Not tonight. How is Damian?"

Dick shrugged. "We talked. I think he – understands. He's not happy, but he understands."

"I messed up on this one, Dick."

Dick blinked. The Batman did not admit mistakes.

But maybe Bruce Wayne did. "We've all kind of messed up recently."

"I'm glad you agree." He indicated that Dick should sit, and his son obeyed. "What the hell are you thinking, Dick? What have you gotten yourself involved in?"

Dick closed his eyes and sighed. "I – don't know. I'm – involved, yes. I'm very involved."

"This is the girl you were doing a background check on online, isn't it?"

"Yeah." He could only look at his father briefly before shame forced his eyes into his lap, where his hands were clasped.

"Do you understand what you're doing? Do you understand the risk you're taking? The danger you are putting yourself in? The danger you're putting us in?"

"You are not at risk. Neither is Damian."

"The hell we're not! And you were watching her – spying on her? A woman you saved from danger?"

Dick held up a finger. "Technically I arrived at the scene after the crime had taken place. She subdued the guy herself."

"That doesn't make a difference! This is you – Nightwing – taking advantage of the situation! Taking advantage of the public trust..."

"The public trust? I'm not sleeping with the public! She's just one person!"

"Dick, it doesn't make a difference! We – all of us – are held to a very high standard – higher than the police force, and we cannot be seen as violating the boundaries!"

"Who the hell is going to see us, Bruce? I don't screw her on the sidewalk in my uniform! This is between her and me! And only the two of us."

"But it's not between the two of you, is it, Dick? It's between the three of you – this girl, Dick, and Nightwing! You are not fairly representing yourself to her. If you're not telling her who you really are, you're lying to her!"

"I am not lying to her. She agreed, back when we became involved, that my identity was going to stay secret. She agreed to it, Bruce."

"I don't give a damn if she agreed to let you dress up as Santa Claus! You are taking advantage of her!"

"I am not! It's consensual!"

"It's wrong! It's wrong, and you know that it's wrong!"

"You're the one who told me to sleep with her!"

"Not as Nightwing, for God's sake! If she finds out –"

"She won't!"

Bruce held up both hands. "I am not going to argue with you about this. This is dangerous to us and to her, and ill-befitting our mission!"

Dick's face twisted in anger. "Oh, you mean the mission that you're giving up?"

"That's right! That we're giving up! And what are you going to do then? What mask are you going to hide behind?"

Dick opened his mouth to respond, but closed it. What would he do about Devon once he had hung up his Nightwing gear? He wanted to move past being Nightwing with her – he wanted a real life with her, but how could he do that – after all that had happened? How could he go from being Nightwing to just being Dick?

"So you have no answer, do you?" When Dick didn't answer, Bruce continued. "You need to break it off with her now – before either of you gets hurt. And I mean that both literally and emotionally."

"What?!" Dick was outraged. "No! I'm not going to stop seeing her!"

"Yes, you are. It's dangerous and irresponsible, and foolhardy."

Dick stood. "I don't care. And I don't care what you say – or think, Bruce. I am not giving her up."

Bruce stood up in response. "Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not. I'm not ten years old anymore, Bruce. You can't order me around. I love this girl, and I am going to continue to see her." He realized, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, his miscalculation in revealing his feelings.

"Love? How can you love her? You don't even know her! And she wouldn't even be able to pick you out in a crowd!" At Dick's mulish look, he pressed on. "Whatever you're feeling for her, Dick, it's not love. Lust, yes. Infatuation. Obsession. I don't know. But it's not love."

"How the hell do you know?" Dick's face was dark, and his hands were fisted at his side.

"Because you can't base a relationship on lies. Believe me – I know."

"Well, forgive me if I don't take romantic advice from a stunted Narcissist!"

Bruce pointed at him. "This will end badly, Dick, if you don't end it now."

"Or maybe it won't end at all." He knew that what he was asserting was impossible, but he didn't care. He loved Devon, and he was never going to give her up. Not for Bruce – not for anyone.

"You're deluding yourself." Bruce's face was severe.

Dick drew himself up stiffly. "Well, I won't be the only one in this family deluding himself."

He turned and left the study, leaving Bruce staring after him with anger and sadness in his eyes.

Star City

Later That Night

November 22nd

Wally flopped on the sofa, and unbuckled his belt. "That was good." He lifted a hand to Artemis as she settled next to him.

"You sure ate enough." She laid her head on his shoulder.

"It was a compliment to the chef." He defended himself as Jade and Roy, Lian in his arms, joined them in the family room.

"Among other things." Roy smiled as he sat on the other side of Artemis, Lian on his lap.

"Yeah, it was a lot better than I thought it would be, girly." Larry appeared in the doorway, a toothpick in his mouth.

"Wow, Dad." Artemis frowned. "I doubt Jade can take such effusive praise."

Larry looked at his youngest daughter as if she had two heads. "Effusive? That one of your Stanford words?"

"Well, it's in English. Even I know that, and English is my second language." Paula pushed him forward with her wheelchair, and he was propelled into the room.

He looked miffed. "Whatever. I've survived all these years without knowing words like effusive, and I've done well enough."

Jade and Artemis looked at one another.

"Speaking of your survival, Dad, can I talk to you?" Jade grabbed his arm as he was about to sit in an easy chair, and he reluctantly stopped his descent.

"Can't this wait? I want to see the highlights of the Florida game." He pointed at the television.

"In a couple of minutes." She was firm, and, with a groan, he straightened.

Roy watched his wife and her father with anxious eyes, and she winked at him, setting him at ease, and he turned to his sister-in-law. "So, Artemis, Wally told me about this hope chest he got you. Real cedar wood."

"Yeah. It's just like the one Grandma Crock had. Remember that, Jade?"

Jade nodded as Larry led the way from the room. "Of course. We spent a lot of time sitting on that, reading."

Artemis laughed, and called after her father. "Remember reading, Dad? You still know how to do that?"

"Funny, funny, baby girl!" Larry grumbled as Jade directed him out onto the porch.

Although it was dark outside, Star City's temperate climate did not require them to wear jackets, and Larry leaned comfortably on the balustrade.

"What's this about, Jade?"

She took up a spot on the opposite railing and folded her arms over her chest. "I had a very interesting piece of information come my way this week."

He looked interested. "Oh, yeah? What is it? A new score?"

She looked down at her feet briefly. "No. And you know I'm not interested in that anymore."

"Give yourself time."

"No, I won't give myself time, because that life is over. I'm married to Roy, and I'm going straight. This time. For good."

"You sound like you are trying to convince yourself."

"I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything. I'm trying to talk to you about your little gig."

His brows rose. "My gig? Which one?"

"The one that requires the use of assassins."

He shrugged. "Gotta be more specific."

"A female assassin and an L115A3."

To his credit, Larry betrayed himself with nothing more than the fluttering of his lids, but, to Jade, who knew him very well, it was enough.

She exploded off the banister and stomped away. "Damn it, Crusher!"

"Why do you think it's me?"

"Really? A female assassin? The gun? Both you! I know it!"

"Oh, come on! You don't know it's me!"

"What ever happened to that girl you were training – the one you were handling, hmm? Where is she? Haven't heard about her in a while." He was mulishly quiet, and she slapped the porch support beam. "It is you!"

"So what? No one's shooting at you!"

She turned to him, her arms flung out. "No! She's just shooting at Batman's boys."

Now Larry stood. "Who told you all this?"

Jade's eyes narrowed. "Someone in the know."

"Yeah, well, what else does this person know?"

"I've haven't the faintest idea, but I know something." She poked him in the chest. "If this comes close to me –"

"How will it come close to you?"

"If it impacts Roy in any way, in any way whatsoever, you will regret it."

His face slackened into derision. "Really? And what are you going to do to me?"

She crossed her arms triumphantly. "Make sure you never see your grandchildren ever again."

Gotham City

Later That Night

November 22nd

Dick left the manor without saying good-bye to anyone. Although he knew it was cowardly to just duck out, he didn't think that he could trust himself to act as if all was well with the world.

As he sped away in the car, he thought of everything that had gone wrong, and he sighed. What a shitty, shitty Thanksgiving. He hadn't even gotten to finish his meal or eat any of Alfred's pumpkin pie.

And now he had nowhere to go except home to his empty apartment. And what about Jason? Where would he go? Was he at his new apartment? Or had it been a lie – a ruse just to get away from his family?

"Damn it. Damn it. Damn it." Dick hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. He pulled off the road and took his phone from his pocket.

He stared at Jason's contact for a long time before calling, but there was, predictably, no answer. He tried texting him.

Jason, bro, I called you but there was no answer. Is everything okay?

There was no response, so he sent another text.

I'm not mad. I just want to make sure you're all right.

There was no reply for several minutes, and, with a sigh, Dick pulled back onto the road, headed for Blüdhaven. Finally, as he was exiting the freeway, a response came in.

Dick, stay the hell away from me.

As soon as he was able, Dick pulled off the road again to respond. Can we meet for coffee or something?

This time, the response was quick. No. I need to be away from everyone. I've had it this time.

Dick was a bit worried. This was the Jason of earlier that day – a vindictive Jason who did not care about his family, and one who was far more dangerous than Dick liked to admit. Oh, he had told Damian that Jason's words were a result of their brother's hurt feelings about Bruce's decision, and Dick did not doubt that it was, but it did not change the fact that Jason, when angered or injured, lashed out in the worst possible way.

Dick texted his brother. Dude, don't say that. We can work it out.

There's nothing to work out, Dick. I want you to stay the hell away from me, and, if you don't, I'll make you fucking sorry that you didn't. And you won't be the only sorry one.

Dick's blood ran cold.

Let's talk. Please. He texted him.

There was no response, and Dick knew that there would not be. If Jason wanted to be off the radar, he would stay off the radar. Dick pulled back onto the road, and was home within minutes.

Being home, however, did not give him any peace. He was too agitated to settle down – angry over Bruce's highhandedness about Devon, anxious about Damian, and heartsick about Jason.

How did it all go so wrong in the space of simply hours? The day had started out so promising, and now his family was as fractured as he had ever seen it. Even Tim, even-tempered, easy-going and clever, was falling apart!

He had to get out of his apartment – and he knew where he wanted to go.

To see Devon. To lose himself in her for a few hours, and let her chase the ghosts away.

He changed quickly and took his motorcycle back to Gotham. It was just past nine P.M. when he climbed to her window, which, although ajar, showed darkness within.

He pulled it open and stepped through. The room was empty, although he could hear the sounds of a television coming from another part of the apartment.

Stripping off his gloves, he removed his ear comm and laid them all on the table next to her bed, and eased the door open. He could see the glow of the television flickering on one of the walls, and a low light came from a door opposite.

With light steps, he sneaked down the hall to the closest doorway, from which the light emanated, and found that it was the kitchen.

Leftovers from what was obviously a Thanksgiving meal sat cooling on the counter, and, with a look around, Dick inspected them. There was a turkey drumstick amongst the detritus, and he brazenly picked it up and took a bite. It was good. Not Alfred good, but few could boast of culinary skills of the butler's level.

Still clutching the leg, he turned and went back to the hall to follow the sounds of the television. Crouching down at the door, he peered into the room.

He could see Devon seated on a long sofa, working on her laptop while intermittently looking up at the screen, where a football game was being shown.

She had her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and was in a button-down blouse and a pair of jeans, with socks gracing her feet, folded beneath her. She looked eminently – screwable.

He continued his sweep of the room – an older woman, presumably her grandmother, was seated in an easy chair, and a dog lay at her feet, asleep.

A dog! Shit! He had forgotten about the dog!

He pulled some meat off the drumstick he still held, and tossed it to the dog.

The animal's nose twitched, and its eyes gradually opened. It looked at the piece of meat, laying only a few inches from its head, and reached forward and took it.

Dick ripped off several more pieces and threw them closer and closer to where he was, until the dog came up to him, snuffling for more treats, and Dick was able to pet him. He led the animal to the kitchen, where he gave him (it was definitely a boy dog) several more morsels of turkey.

"Good boy." He smiled, stroked him behind the ears, and picked several more pieces of meat for him before shooing him off.

The dog, however, sat down and looked at Dick, expecting to be fed more, but Dick shook his head. "There won't be anything left for your humans, buddy."

The dog taken care of, there was one more thing he had to do – get Devon's attention without alerting her grandmother. He grabbed a handful of grapes, and, followed by the dog, crept back to the living room entrance.

He threw a grape at Devon, but it hit the sofa next to her, although the dog went after it, abandoning Dick.

Nightwing grimaced as the dog's nailed scratched against the floor, and he ducked back.

"What are you looking for, you goofy dog?" It was Devon's voice, and he peered around the corner again.

She had gone back to her work, and he threw several more grapes at her before she was disturbed enough to investigate.

He retreated back into the kitchen, and she hesitantly followed, passing directly in front of him without seeing him in his hiding place. He slipped up behind her and put one hand over her mouth and the other across the front of her shoulders, pulling her back against him and kissing her on the neck.

Although she jumped, she knew him immediately by his actions, and leaned into him. His hand snaked from her mouth to her jaw, and he turned her gently to him.

"Are you crazy?" She hissed when he moved to kiss her neck again, his fingers drifting to the buttons on her blouse.

He nodded, and his lips found hers then, and she allowed his tongue to pass into her mouth. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer, and could feel the start of an erection in his cup.

He put his lips against her ear. "Turn up the TV and make some excuse to your grandmother. I'll meet you in your bedroom."

She nodded silently, and watched as he disappeared down the hall.

She returned to the living room, excited. Nightwing was – different, somehow, tonight. He seemed more – reckless, more – emotional. Raw and – sexy.

"Uh, Grandma, can you hear that okay?"

Marie turned to her, jerkily drawn from the game. "Well, yes. I suppose." She looked speculatively at the screen. "Now that you mention it, could you turn it up a bit? I can't tell what the refs are saying."

Devon turned it up perhaps a little too much, but she gave her grandmother a thumbs up, and grabbed her laptop. "I'm going to work on my paper a little more in the bedroom, then go to bed." She gave the older woman a kiss. "Goodnight, Grandma. See you tomorrow."

She nearly ran to her room, and, once inside, locked the door and turned to her lover.

He was already nude and waiting for her, and he grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, and guided her until her back was against the wall, next to the window.

He began to divest her of her clothing without speaking, his lips silencing all of her words until he moved to take her shoulder in his mouth.

"Why did you want the sound up?" She asked breathlessly, watching him as he suckled on the curve of her shoulder.

He lifted his head and grinned at her. "Because I want to make some noise."

A mischievous smile crossed her face. "Why? Are you going to scream?"

"No." He grabbed her beneath the arms and lifted her off her feet, her back still against the wall. "You are."

She did.

She slid down the wall with him until he was on his knees, and her legs were wrapped around his torso. She laid her head on his shoulder, trying to regain her breath.

"Oh, wow."

He chuckled, and kissed her cheek. "Good?" Hie sounded breathless, as well.

She nodded. "Yes. God, yes."

"Bed?"

She nodded again, and, with his hands beneath her bottom, he carried her there, laying her down and stretching out beside her. She snuggled up to him, her head on his chest, and listened to his heart as it slowed to normal.

His fingers traced a line up and down her arm, and she closed her eyes, reveling in the moment, and in this man. "Did you have a good Thanksgiving?"

"Not until I got here." He admitted.

She looked up at him. "I'm sorry. What happened?"

His mouth pulled down. "A bad thing. A very bad thing."

Her face expressed concern. "Oh, no! Was someone hurt or – killed?"

He shook his head. "No. Not that bad, thankfully. Just – stuff, I guess."

She laid her head back down. "I'm sorry."

Just then, his stomach rumbled, and he gave a low laugh. "And I didn't get to eat much dinner. Although I shared some turkey with your dog."

"I thought that you tasted like turkey."

"I didn't get as much as he did, though."

"I can't believe you bribed my dog with food."

"A way to a man's heart is through his stomach – even four-legged men."

"Hmm. If that's the case, maybe I can bribe you with some pumpkin pie."

"I can be bribed with pumpkin pie."

"Good." She kissed his pectoral muscle, and got up. "My grandmother makes the best pumpkin pie in the city."

He folded his arms behind his head and grinned at her. "Sounds like someone's marketing the diner."

"Ha." She found her panties and put them on. "Don't take my word for it. Taste and you tell me." She grabbed a t-shirt from a drawer and tugged it on.

"I will."

She kissed him before she left, and he watched the door for a long moment, thinking about her. She was – everything he wanted in a woman. She was beautiful and intelligent and passionate and – uncomplicated. So different from his other girlfriends – so different from Barbara, who carried so much baggage from just being Batgirl.

Devon was back quickly, carrying a plate with a large piece of pie with whipped cream, as well as a fork.

"Here you go." She settled down on the bed, and he sat up.

"It looks good." He sat up and took the plate from her.

"It is good. We sell out every day."

"Really? Maybe I should come by and get a piece." He cut into it with the fork.

"I don't know. We don't serve masked men."

He smiled, and popped a bite in his mouth. "Oh, shit! This is good!" His eyes widened behind his mask.

"I told you."

He greedily shoveled more into his mouth. "You weren't lying."

"Nope." She cuddled up against him and watched as he devoured the rest. "That was a third of a pie, you know."

"It was damn good. I would say to give my compliments to your grandmother, but that would cause a lot of awkward questions."

"Yes, it would." She leaned over and kissed him. "Hmm. Now you taste like pumpkin pie."

"It's a good taste." He put aside the empty plate and took her in his arms.

They lay there for several minutes, just kissing and enjoying being together.

"Thank you," Dick said finally.

"For what?"

He shrugged. "For salvaging my Thanksgiving."

"You're welcome. Thank you for giving me something else to be thankful for."

"Oh, really?" He slid his arms around her back. "And what exactly did I give you that you're thankful for?"

She blushed. "Three or four – things. You know."

His hands crept to the band of her panties. "I can give you something else to be thankful for."

"You're such a giver." She smiled slyly, and lying back, lifted her hips so that he could slide the underwear down her legs.

"That's me." He nudged her legs apart and bent his head over her, trailing kisses down her belly, lower and lower. "I give and give and – give." His last word was muffled as his mouth became occupied.

Author's Note: What can I say? Hot sex soothes an aching soul...

I also hoped you liked Thanksgiving with the Crock/Harper (with a little bit of the West) clan. I am really enjoying writing for all of them, since I find something endearing in all of them. And, I'll admit it, I find Roy hot!

You probably also noticed that I slipped in a little something about Wally coming back from the dead. I don't know how it will/would happen, but I'm guessing that is/was the plan of the producers from the get-go (and hence the introduction of Darkseid, who FAMOUSLY sent Batman back in time). Anyway, whatever happens, I'm sure Artemis will be involved!

Please review!