"You want to go where tonight?"

Elle smiled as she looked through her closet. "You heard me," she called. "Besides, I need to arrange for my car to be towed before Brian has it impounded or something."

Dick stood in the doorway of her walk-in closet still in his police uniform. "What car? You don't have a car."

"Yes I do," she countered over her shoulder. "I bought one the week after you dumped me."

Dick's face darkened as he scowled at her. "I did not dump you! I wish you'd quit referring to it like that."

Elle blew out a breath, as she pulled a dress out to contemplate. "Fine. Your abandonment, then."

Dick took the dress from her and hung it up. He turned her around, and she was startled at the hurt she saw in his face.

"Elle, please. I never meant to hurt you. Our separation hurt me, too," he repeated for her once more; this time, however, there was a suspicious gleam to his lovely blue eyes. "I couldn't eat; couldn't sleep; there was a constant pain in my chest that seemed to grow more and more each day. But even more than that," he said. "I just missed you . . . so much."

"Oh. No," Elle slid her hands up to cup his beautiful face. "I'm sorry, Dick. I didn't mean to make you feel guilty again. I was only teasing you this time. I've forgiven you. Now then, will you forgive me my stupid insensitivity?"

"You are home to me, Elle. You know that, don't you?" His hands rubbed her back as he searched her eyes. "I would be lost without you."

"I know," she smirked. "We're bonded and all that."

Dick frowned. "No, this isn't the bonding. This has been the way I've felt from the beginning. The reason I kept coming back to listen to you; the reason I asked you out. I knew from the moment I first laid eyes on you that you were special. I felt as if I had finally come home after years of searching."

Tears sprang to her eyes. "That is the most beautiful thing anyone's ever said to me, Dick Grayson."

"I love you," he whispered against her mouth.

"Mm," she hummed as he kissed her. "I love you, too," she breathed against his lips. "So very much."

Several minutes later, Dick pulled away breathless as something Elle had said earlier finally penetrated his brain. "Wait a minute," he gasped. "You have a car?"

Elle blinked at him. "I thought we had already established that."

"If you had a car, why the hell were you walking home the other night? Why didn't you just drive," he demanded of her angrily.

"It wouldn't start," she explained.

"What? It's a month old and it wouldn't start? What the hell?" Dick's voice began to rise.

Shrugging, Elle turned back to her wardrobe. "It's a used car; about eighteen years old, I think. I suppose it just needs a little tender loving care. I plan to have it towed to the shop and have it worked on."

"Eighteen years old? Are you serious? Why didn't you just buy new," he asked.

"It might be nineteen; I can't remember. And I didn't want new," she explained. "New would mean dipping into the fund that my father set up for me. Buying used meant I could just pay cash and not be beholding to Poppa."

"Elle, that's crazy! Your father set up that account for you to use as a way to help you."

She turned around and looked at him seriously. "Pot meet kettle . . ."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Only that your father would love to help you as well, and yet if he offers you anything at all, you take it as an insult," she poked him in the chest. "Don't judge me or insinuate that I'm being obstinate. At least when Bruce wants to help, he doesn't expect anything in return. My father never steps out of the boardroom, Dick. Everything he does is all a part of the negotiation; all a part of the deal. If I take from him, then I will owe him."

"It didn't seem that way to me when I met him. He seemed to genuinely care about you." Dick ran a hand through his hair.

"You haven't known him long enough," Elle stated, turning back to pull out a navy blue velvet pantsuit with rhinestone buttons and satin collar. "He's already negotiated my visits to Chicago once a month and tried to arrange for me to attend social events with an escort of his choice."

It was Dick's turn to blink. "But he knows you're dating me."

"This was early on. He hadn't collected all the information on you at that time. All he knew was that you were a cop, and thus not good enough for his little girl. Once he discovered you were also the eldest son of Bruce Wayne, billionaire, he stopped insisting and even pulled Edward and Hugh back to Chicago."

Elle put the pantsuit back and pulled out a long-sleeved, cocktail dress made entirely of white lace and light-beige satin slip beneath. She always received a lot of double takes while wearing it as it looked like she was naked beneath the lace. Elle smirked, knowing if Dick saw her in it, he would likely swallow his tongue.

"In his mind, we are already as good as married," she told him as she carefully putting the dress back. She might come back the dress or save it for another time.

Marriage.

Dick pursed his lips as he thought it over. If what Cedric and Aquaman had told them was true, then marriage was just a mere technicality. He and Elle would be together forever with or without the piece of paper and fancy ceremony.

He stared at the back of her neck. Elle had whipped her heavy mane of dark silk onto her head in a messy bun. The long strands that had escaped teased him; making him want to kiss the skin that they caressed. He got a sense of satisfaction of knowing that he now had a right to touch that creamy softness for the rest of his life.

Funny that the thought of commitment wasn't making him hyperventilate now. He had thought long and hard about asking Babs to marry him before he actually did it. He frowned remembering how he had been so sure that they had been meant to be together. So much so that he had often put off asking her because marriage had just been a given in his mind, and they had plenty of time to get around to it. And when he had finally asked her, she had said no . . . In fact, she had told him no several times until he had eventually worn her down. They had even joked about how long it had taken for her to say yes, and while it hadn't bothered him at the time, it was suddenly bothering him now. He remembered all of the reasons she had given him for refusing him before, and then, even after Babs had deigned to accept his proposal, she had made it hinge upon certain demands . . . Like his relationship with Bruce. Why was he only seeing this now?

Dick looked back at Elle as she moved to another section of the closet and started tugging out blouses to mix and match with slacks and skirts. She was humming under her breath, and it made him smile. She was happy. He knew it for a fact in his very soul that at this particular moment, Elle was content and happy with her life . . . Even knowing that they were stuck together by some metaphysical bond, she was happy; happy with him, happy to be with him.

Dick had always had to work so hard for Barbara. It had always been on her terms; always her way. It hadn't felt like it at the time, but then he had been so far gone in his infatuation that he didn't think he would have recognized it had someone posted it on a billboard with flashing neon lights. Working hard for it meant she was worth it, right? It meant that when she had finally given in to his proposal that he had earned something valuable . . . Or had he, in truth, just worn her down?

He suddenly wondered what Elle would say to him if he dropped to his knee right now and proposed. Would she be happy about it or would she make some snarky comment about the bond not giving them a choice? With Babs, it had felt as if marriage and forever was just a given, but with Elle, it really was!

Elle turned around abruptly and looked at him. "Something bothering you?"

His lips quirked. Damned bond . . . "No, just thinking . . ."

He could see the concern in her eyes as she put the outfit back, and came to him. Her hands ran up his chest and over his shoulders; squeezing gently to ease tension he hadn't realized he had been feeling.

"Such serious thoughts," she said softly. "Care to share? Or should I just mind my own damned business?"

He kissed her forehead and then the tip of her nose. He grinned at her answering smile. "I'm fine. Like I said, I was just thinking. Nothing for you to worry about."

She stared into his eyes for a long moment, and then sighed. "Okay, fine. Just remember I asked. So, are you going to go with me or not?"

Dick's gaze flitted back to the elegant outfits she had been looking through. "Do we really need to dress up in order to arrange for a tow truck?"

"Yes," she told him with that gorgeous smile. "I want to see everyone. Plus, I hardly ever got to eat at Chez Donovan's when I worked there. Never seemed to be enough time to sit down and really enjoy it. I only ever got a sandwich or salad. I want something special this time."

"Their salmon is good," he commented.

Elle wrinkled her nose. "Bleh, seafood."

"What? I just can't understand how you can you say that," Dick gasped. "My favorite food is crab-stuffed mushrooms."

She looked at him horrified. "You eat sea-spiders?"

He looked confused. "Sea-spiders?"

"That's what crabs resemble . . . Cute, I suppose in their own way, but to eat them? Ick!"

"Cute?" He laughed. "They're hardly that, but they are delicious. Lobster, too!"

Elle stared at him open-mouthed for a long moment, and then pursed her lips. "It's a good thing we're bonded because that would be a deal-breaker right there." She waved a hand as she brushed past him. "But we'll just have to agree to disagree."

Dick watched her walk past him. She was part mermaid or Siren or whatever; was it so hard to believe that she didn't want to eat seafood? Of course, she hadn't known this about herself until a month ago. He wondered if it were something ingrained or some genetic predisposition that had her disliking seafood. Huh? he would have to ask Aquaman about it sometime. In the meantime, Dick decided that he would just have to go out for seafood alone or with some of his co-workers.

"I'll have to run home to shower and change." He glanced at the clock. It was six-thirty already. "I'll be back here in about an hour. Will that be enough time for you?"

Elle pulled out the two Chinese sticks that was holding her hair up, and all that sinfully dark satin fell in waves over her shoulders and down her back. She shook it out, running her fingers through the silky strands, and Dick's mouth went dry. Maybe he could talk her into ordering in instead?

"An hour is fine," she told him, and then frowned. "You need to keep a few things over here, I think. It would save a ton of time."

"Things? Like what?" He didn't mean to sound obtuse, but he was busy trying to pull the blood back up to his brain at the moment.

Elle shrugged. "A few changes of clothes, maybe? A little something for every occasion, so that if we decide to go out dancing or to dinner or to the gym while you are over here, you don't have to go home first."

"That's an idea," he agreed. "You might consider the same thing for my place."

She smiled at him. "I think that could be arranged."

"Okay, then I better get going if I'm going to get back here in an hour," he said.

Elle followed him out to the living room. Dick paused, a photograph catching his eye. He'd only been here a couple of times before the separation, but he'd come by every day for the past week and never noticed it before. It was a picture of them dancing. He blinked. It was a picture of them dancing from the first night Elle had serenaded him! He recognized the red gown she had been wearing!

"Where'd you get that? I don't remember anyone taking our picture that night?"

"Um, well, actually no one took our picture. This is a frame from a video that was taken of us by a news crew that had been there that night. I talked them into giving me that video, and filming me singing to a couple that were having an anniversary instead. I loved this shot of us, so I had it printed and professionally framed." Elle smiled, picking up the picture and handing it to him. "What do you think of it?"

It was amazing, he thought. And enlightening . . . It was obvious now that he was looking at this from an outside perspective that they had both been head over heels in love with one another from the very beginning. He had never before believed in love at first sight, but this was proving him wrong.

He knew she was special from the first time he had laid eyes on her. Dick had told her as much several minutes ago, but this . . . He smiled, remembering what it had felt like holding her in his arms for the first time. And right here was the photographic proof that he had loved her at that moment - that perfect moment.

"Do you think I could get a copy of this? Maybe something smaller, like for my wallet or maybe my patrol car," he asked.

The idea that he liked the picture enough to want to keep it with him throughout the day sent joy burbling up inside of her. "I think that can be arranged," she told him.

Dick set the picture down reluctantly. He moved to the door, but turned back to Elle before opening it. She moved effortlessly into his embrace and he grinned down at her. She still felt like heaven in his arms. He had a very good feeling that she always would.

"I'll be back in an hour," he whispered against her lips.

The kiss was short by their standards, but longer than it should have been. At this rate, they would be lucky to get to the restaurant/club before the show started. He pulled away and opened the door.

"Lock up behind me," he reminded her, and stood there until he heard the lock click into place.

He checked his watch. He would have to hurry if they planned to make it by eight o'clock. He jogged past the elevator to the stairs. He could get to the bottom faster this way, he thought, and began leaping over the rail to the next set of stairs below; landing lightly on the balls of his feet, and on and on until he reached the bottom. He waved at a startled guard as he raced out the door and down the steps of the building. He wondered if he would have to sneak back in when he came back or if Elle would finally call down and tell the desk that he was now a welcomed visitor.

"So, this is it?" Dick wasn't impressed; he was horrified.

"That's it," Elle chirped happily, confirming his worst fears.

"You do realize that this state has lemon laws, right," he informed her. "You can take this thing back to the dealer and get your money back for it."

"I don't want to," Elle pouted. "I like this car."

Dick turned to face her; crossing his arms. He took the chance that leaning on the vehicle wouldn't cause the door to fall off. "Elle, it isn't your grandmother, even if it is likely as old as she is. You can take it back without hurting its feelings."

"Pfft, you mustn't exaggerate, Dick. It is beneath you," she stated regally. "It is only eighteen years old. It's a classic."

"It's a hunk of junk! It was a hunk of junk when it was new! I don't want you driving something that might break down on you, or not offer you protection if you ever get in an accident," he declared.

Elle grinned at him and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Aren't you the sweetheart; going all protective he-man on me?"

Dick laughed in spite of himself. "Huh-uh, you aren't going to win this one, Elle. I refuse to let you drive something so unreliable."

Eyelids lowering to half-mast, Elle smiled at him again. Except this time, it didn't reach her eyes. "You won't 'let' me? Would you care to rephrase that?"

"No, I won't rephrase that," he told her; accepting her challenge. "You need a better car than this, Elle. I'm not going to rephrase anything and I'm not going to back down."

"And if I can get it fixed so that it is reliable . . .?" Elle tilted her head to the side and blinked up at him coyly through her lashes.

Dick narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. "IF . . . you can get it fixed so that it's reliable, then we'll see."

Her eyes lit up and a smile spread across her face.

"I mean it, Elle. It must be reliable . . . And that means up to my standards! I won't have you stranded out here, especially with winter coming on, or you having to walk home again after dark. I could have lost you. I won't risk you again," Dick warned her.

She nodded excitedly, and turned to face the gruff, scruffy-looking, tow truck driver. "You know of a good mechanic's shop, don't you? It has to be the best, you know. Someone who can make my baby purr like a kitten . . ."

The man had been looking her up and down, but swallowed when she turned to face him and the boyfriend caught his eye. The glare the man had sent his way rattled him. Despite the fact that he was taller than the boyfriend by several inches and probably outweighed him by a good thirty pounds, the smaller man seemed more than confident that he could take him on. Perhaps, if he weren't in such a rush to tow this rust-bucket out of here so that he could go home, he'd be more willing to teach the boyfriend the error of his ways.

"I, uh . . . Sure," the guy told her. "I know just the place. The mechanic there is a good friend of mine. I'll put in a word with him and he'll take real good care of you," the tow truck driver promised. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a card. "Here you go. Give him a call tomorrow and tell him Nate sent you. He'll check your baby over and fix you right up - No problem."

Elle started to tuck it in her purse when Dick snatched it out of her hand. He glanced at the shop's name. It looked familiar. Where had he seen it before? He couldn't remember off hand, but he made a note to look the place up tomorrow when he got to work. Elle took it back and tucked it in her clutch. It didn't matter. Dick had memorized it already.

"Take good care of her, okay?"

The guy doffed his cap to her, just like a gentleman. "I surely will, ma'am. Don't you worry none."

Dick frowned at the guy, and put his arm around Elle to lead her over to the restaurant. It was twenty after eight already. By the time they were seated, ordered, and got their food there wouldn't be much time to eat. And he so wasn't looking forward to this. He wouldn't be surprised if one of the staff spit into his food, given what his last reception here had been like. Maybe the fact that Elle was looking so damned happy would mitigate the protective anger of her ex-co-workers and the restaurant personnel would forgive him.

Or he might end up with more than a split lip this time. He sighed, nuzzled Elle's ear and approached the entrance with something resembling wishful thinking. It was too bad that reality kept intruding or he might have looked forward to this.

REACTIONS? OPINIONS?