Authors' Note: This week is coauthor Lois' birthday. Given that she works retail shipping and it's the holiday season, she's requesting large quantities of alcohol for her birthday. That's not very practical over the internet, though, so feel free to drop a 'happy bday' note in the review box. We appreciate all of you.

Some widely separated threads are being spun together in the next two or three chapters. We'll see what pattern they make ... or if the whole loom ends up on fire, which frankly is how things tend to go when you mix Bats and Supers.

Just an ordinary Tuesday night in Gotham … which for Jay meant busting a jewelry store robbery in progress, assisted by Nightwing. Baby Bird was off doing Titans stuff this evening, and Jay decided what the hell, he'd fill in. Even this kind of small-potatoes crap was at least honest work. And running with Dickie-Bird was fun.

It surprised him to realize that he didn't look forward to working solo. Kala had gone and spoiled him, that was all. Jay spent years relying only on himself, watching his own back, and a few months of really well balanced teamwork – plus close air support with some heavy-duty firepower – had seriously upped his standards. Weird, to find himself actually wanting teamwork.

Babs had given them the coordinates for the alarm, and he and Dick made short work of the four robbers. "That was almost too easy," Dick said, leaning the last man against their own getaway car.

Of course, right then was the moment a bullet shattered the glass of the car window, and they both had to dive for cover right beside their cowering, cussing captives. Jay added a few choice words of his own. "Dammit, Wing, never say shit like that! It tempts fate!"

"What's this?" Dick asked, peeking around the corner of the bumper.

Jay, in the bulletproof helmet, popped his head up for a second to peer through the crazed glass. The car parked in the street was a big, sturdy sedan … painted half black, half white. "Shit, it's Dent's boys," he said.

One of the trussed jewel thieves started kicking the guy closest to him. "You said they didn't pay up to Two-Face! You said it was safe!"

"Ow! They didn't pay up last week!" the other guy cried.

Jay smacked both of them, and lobbed a flash-bang at the car. "Shut up, you assholes, at least since we're here tonight, you get to live. Now be quiet and let Daddy work."

"Since when Two-Face is running protection rackets this far uptown?" Dick said, readying his sticks. The flash-bang grenade went off, momentarily blinding the goons in the car, and he and Jay both rushed out to deal with them.

Not that hard, these were recent recruits, without much real training. They were street-smart, trusting in weapons, and once Jay had kicked the gun out of the first one's grip and broken the wrist of the second, it was pretty much over for them. Dick got his two, the electrified escrima sticks working like stun-guns to immobilize them. It was all over in minutes, Jay taking an opportunity to put his boot in for the kids' sake. Dick frowned about it, but said nothing – he'd heard about the whole situation.

As they secured the scene and heard sirens approaching, Jay said, "We ought to think about throwing Harvey in jail, too. He's gonna be gunning for me shortly."

Dick nodded as they both shot grapnels to the nearest roof to wait for the police. "B is gathering intel. We've got to get enough evidence, or catch him red-handed. Dent knows the system too well, and he can afford good lawyers."

"Shithead," Jay grumbled. "He's the one who was after that pack of kids I was protecting. We've got them taken care of, but he'll have to do something about me or lose face. That won't end well for him."

Sighing, Dick sat down on the parapet. They needed to keep an eye on this one until the cops arrived, in case Dent had sent more reinforcements. "I swear sometimes it's like playing whack-a-mole with the criminals. Every time we knock one down, another pops up."

Jay sat beside him. "See, you shoulda let me kill Mask and Joker and take over as Gotham's kingpin. I coulda knocked down every one of them that came after me."

Dick glanced at him, scowling, but saw Jay's smirk and just scoffed. "Yeah, that'd all be great until all the mob families got together and ponied up enough cash to afford Deadshot or Deathstroke to take you out."

That gave him a few seconds pause. "Huh. I wonder what the going rate is for a hit on me. Gotta be expensive, people know I'm Bat-trained."

"Only you would take that calmly," Dick said. And then, with a snort of laughter, "You've got Talia's number, call her and ask."

Jay scoffed at that. "Yeah, right, she probably killed that number two minutes after the last time I called. We didn't exactly hang up on good terms, Dickie-Bird."

"Yeah, well, I can't help but be glad about that. I'm much happier with you completely out of her orbit. You know I can't stand Talia, never could. Even so, I'm guess we have to thank her for you being alive." Dick leaned forward a little, seeing a splash of red and blue lights further up the street. "I'm also very glad she didn't get a chance to figure out what K is or why she was at the Manor."

"Me too," Jay said, his back prickling at the thought. Ra's al Ghul and his daughter were Bat-problems who could quickly become everyone's problems. The thought of them knowing anything about the Supers, having any inkling about the kind of power and knowledge stored in the Fortress of Solitude, damn near gave him hives.

"You were pretty freaked out, that day," Dick mused. "You were still kinda iffy about K then, but you went right into protective mode. Something you need to talk about with your lost years?"

For a moment, Jay thought about telling Dick the whole truth. Coming back, plotting to kill Batman, training as an assassin, falling into bed with Talia, finding the file that damn near made him kill her … but no. Not Dick. He'd go completely bonkers, drag Jay to the nearest shrink to get his head examined. And probably rant and rave until Bruce overheard something damning. Which, Jay had a vested interest in Bruce not finding out that particular little detail. He might be in bed with Selina on any given night, but if Bruce found out about Jay and Talia, he'd go ballistic, even worse than Dick.

Kala knew. That was enough. "It doesn't have anything to do with my time in murder college," Jay said easily. "Do you want Ra's to have any idea there are half-Kryptonian kids running around? Best case scenario, he decides to wipe out the Supers before they can breed more. Worst case, he decides he wants an heir with powers."

Dick actually choked at that. "Oh God, I'm gonna hurl! Jay, why would even say that?! Eww!"

"Trust me, I wanna puke too," he said, giving a shudder of horror. "I know Superman, too, remember? I don't think Talia would be down for that either, but you know Daddy tends to get what Daddy wants. The good news is, Ra's is probably too xenophobic for that. He doesn't care about aliens as long as they stay out of his way."

Still wincing, Dick looked down at the street below, where the cops were trussing up Dent's men and the jewel thieves. "Thank you for that horrifying mental image. I need brain bleach now. I have to think of something cute, like puppies."

It was Jay's turn to snort. "Puppies. When I need brain bleach, I think of K in that fancy dress I bought her. Cuter than a fruit bat at the zoo."

Dick laughed. "Yeah, you won that one. The two of you are pretty damn cute."

"Knock it off, I'm not down with that saccharine shit," Jay replied immediately. Never mind that he'd just called K cute – being sarcastic about it, but still. What he couldn't stand was the implication that he and Kala together were cute. There was nothing cutesy about him, nothing cutesy about their relationship either.

Instead of shying off the topic, Dick turned to look at him with a serious expression. "Jay … get real for a minute, would you?"

"I'm the realest thing in this town, D," Jay shot back, bristling.

And then he said it, of course he did, Dick loved everyone, he probably even told Bruce he loved him, and The Night probably didn't explode into a thousand socially-awkward bats when he did. Dick looked squarely at Jay and said, "You don't have to be a highly-trained detective to see that you and K are in love."

Jay's gut roiled, and he fought the urge to punch Dick right in his pretty face. Dick must've seen the change in his body language, because he tensed a little in alarm. But Jay didn't swing, because Dick couldn't fathom a world in which love was dangerous. "Listen to me very carefully, Nightwing," he ground out through clenched teeth. "There's a goddamn reason I don't use that word. And I don't want anyone else using it about me, either."

"I know you think you're too tough…" Dick began.

"Oh fuck off, I'm not that dumb," Jay spat.

"Then what is it?" Dick asked. "Help me understand here, Jay, you're making a big deal out of something that doesn't have to be."

He wouldn't let go, that was the thing. Dick was a bulldog when he thought he could help somebody. Never mind whether they wanted his help, or not. So Jay growled, "Every time I think it might apply, the other person royally fucks me over, starting with my shitty excuse for a bio mom and running right up to now. So shut your fucking mouth, or I'll shut it for you, okay? You are not jinxing this for me when something's finally going right in my life. I won't kill you, but I'll damn sure put a bullet scar in that perfect butt of yours. Try telling your revolving-door of women it's another dimple."

Dick paused, thoughtful. "Threats and compliments? You're deflecting hard, Jaybird. Do you really believe saying it will jinx things? I didn't realize you were so superstitious."

"Dude, I came back from being damn near dead. I'm only able to talk and remember my own goddamn name because of a fucking Lazarus Pit that healed catastrophic fucking brain damage. Oh, and fixed a bunch of other shit wrong with me, too, I never would've been this tall or this broad with all the times I went hungry as a kid. That same Pit is why one of our biggest bad guys is still fucking around with the world despite being like seven hundred years old, and having died a couple dozen times. And you're calling me superstitious? Fuck off, D."

"Okay, okay, that's fair," Dick said, backpedaling from his vehemence. "Still…"

"You don't get it," Jay snapped. "It's better to show that than tell it. Every time, once it gets said, everything goes to hell."

For a moment, he really thought Dick would just leave it alone. His brows were furrowed under the Nightwing domino, and he looked like he'd happily punch whoever had hurt Jay. But then he asked, "Jay … what really happened with Troia, for you to be like this?"

And of course, he laughed, remembering the cops ten stories below at the last minute and stifling it just enough. No way was he gonna tell Dick about Donna. There couldn't be a worse way to find out your best friend had a long-standing desperately-hidden crush on you. Plus, he wouldn't do that to Donna. She had her issues, but it was the Todd luck that had screwed them over. She hadn't hurt him on purpose. And he'd hurt her, too.

"Get real, D. You think Troia was the first woman I ever slept with or something?" he retorted, trying to lead him off the mark.

Dick just frowned. "I didn't think it got that deep with Ravager."

Jay laughed; this was turning into a rehash of his conversation with Donna. At least it meant that Donna hadn't turned around and told Dick everything. It did bother him, a lot, that suddenly everyone was nosing around in his love life and prodding around in the past. It felt like everyone wanted to be his shrink, and Jay had zero interest in that.

Besides, Rose ghosting him had stung a little, but Rose hadn't let it get that deep. She was just as shy of being burned as he was. With her father, he wasn't surprised. Safer not to care about anyone that much. To Dick, he said, "It wasn't, and Ravager wasn't the first either. Dude, there's whole years of my life you know nothing about."

Of course, that still didn't put him off. "Someone in the League of Shadows? Please tell me you didn't fall in love with Cheshire or something, she's got a thing for heroes. And she really did a number on Arsenal's head."

Shit, shit, shit! Jay's spine turned to ice at the realization of how close he was to giving away the exact thing he didn't want Dick to know. Too many parallels, too many secrets, and he had to switch it up quick. "Hell no, not Chesh, I never even met her. For all you know it coulda been a civilian. Doesn't have to be a woman, either. You're not the only bisexual in the Batcave, bro."

Dick stared at him for a moment, and then said in a quiet voice. "Oh no. It wasn't me, was it?"

Jay blinked; he hadn't realized that Dick actually knew about the stupid schoolboy crush. Never mind the little hints here and there, that was just Dick being comforting. Not to mention, Dick had never betrayed him, but of course he'd think it was his fault that Jay was allergic to the L-word. He was as bad as Bruce for guilt. It was all so absurd, Jay threw his head back and laughed out loud.

Immediately the cops below swung their flashlights up, and Dick muttered something in Romany as they both dove away from the edge. Jay couldn't stop laughing even as they ran to the next roof, jumped over, and made a hard turn. At least the climb to the next roof needed enough oxygen that he had to stop snickering like an idiot.

It figured he'd end up talking to Dick about this now. Once they got stopped again, he turned with a shrug. "Okay, sorry, I didn't mean to laugh in your face. It's just … one, you never did anything out of line at all. I never even thought you knew. And two, that wasn't anything serious. It was just a puppy crush."

"Okay," Dick said, smiling a little ruefully. "I just … I knew, and I also knew it was a bad idea for a lot of reasons, starting with how young you were and mostly being how crazy my life always is. Also I think B would've had an aneurysm."

"B could've gotten over it," Jay said, shaking his head. "I had a lot of crushes on a lot of people, as a kid. Classic street kid, wanting to belong to something. You wouldn't have been a bad choice."

Dick shrugged. "I'm not exactly great at relationships either. I mean, I really deep-sixed that with Oracle, and messed things up with Starfire in the process. I've blown up almost every relationship I've been in. The only thing that lasts is family."

"And that's why B would freak out. He sees us both as his sons. He'd have to learn to play the banjo." He shrugged again. Awkward as this was, it was better than the conversation had been aimed to begin with. "I never saw you as a brother, more brother in arms. Hell, I never had brothers or sisters or anything. I get why you call it family – hell, I do it too – but it was different with you. Kinda like you never saw O as a sister."

"Oh, I knew exactly how I saw O the day I met her," Dick admitted. "She hit me like all of puberty all at once."

Jay grinned at him then. "Yeah, she kinda hit me the same way. O is still trouble, I just know now I can't handle anyone that much smarter than me."

"I'm gonna tell K you said that," Dick teased.

Jay cuffed at his shoulder. "Don't be an ass. I bet K thinks the same thing of O. God bless Canary, she's the only one with the courage."

And in his ear, he heard an amused digital voice say, "Considering that Blur flirted with me within fifteen minutes of meeting me? I'm sure. At least she was a lot smoother than offering me the top bunk."

"I was thirteen, O, I didn't have time to learn smooth," Jay laughed.

Dick had heard that too, and rolled his eyes. "At least I had the sense to keep my mouth shut."

"Yes, you did," Babs agreed. "You were unsubtle in your own way, though. I know perfectly well that wasn't a Batarang jammed against my leg when we were locked in that safe together."

Jay couldn't help himself, he clutched his sides and wheezed at the expression on Dick's face. "You know what, I had a gorgeous redhead in my lap practically. I don't think there's any man who wouldn't rise to the occasion, then or now."

"I'll take that as the compliment it is," Babs laughed at both of them. "Now get back to work – and lay off the personal info in the field, children."

"We didn't have our comms on, and there's no one else up here," Jay complained, but he understood her point. If someone had been listening, that was a lot of juicy gossip.

"The comms are always on," Dick said, waggling his eyebrows. "Mother has to keep an eye and an ear on her children. Mother knows best."

"Keep calling me Mother, I'll make you buy the banjo," Babs retorted, and Jay started snickering again. "Seriously, though. You boys need to have your heart-to-hearts at the bunker or the Roost or something, please. You did call each other by nicknames that have your real names in them."

Jay thought back over the conversation, and winced. He'd said 'Dickie-Bird' first, but Dick had come back with 'Jaybird'. "Yeah, okay, point taken. Not like we get a lot of quality time anywhere else, y'know."

"So make time. It's what family does." Babs signed off then, and Dick shook his head.

"We'll have plenty of quality time over the holidays," Dick said with a slight smile. "You are coming for Thanksgiving, right? Because I think Alfred might have you kidnapped and taped to a chair if you don't show."

"Dude, and miss the whole Manor spread? Roast turkey, fried turkey, honey-baked ham, twelve side dishes, and four or five pies? Fuck yeah, I'll be there. If you hadn't invited me, I'd crash. No matter what the family drama is, I have no shame when it comes to the sideboard." Jay's stomach grumbled at the mere thought of it.

"Oh, he's doing pumpkin cheesecake now, too," Dick chuckled. "I heard through R that Superboy and Blur are gonna be out of state for Thanksgiving. It'll be just us, unless she can make it over in time for coffee."

Jay thought about that; he and Kala hadn't even talked about it yet. They still had a couple weeks before Thanksgiving. But he hadn't needed to plan around holidays for four years, so he wasn't used to giving it any thought. The League of Shadows was strictly secular, and his wandering after that had been so disjointed that he only noticed holidays when restaurants were either closed, or packed. Coming home again, for the kind of spread Alfred put on, made his chest ache with yearning.

At last, he sighed. "Much as it would be good if K was there, she's about worn out with running back and forth. Let her have the day with her family. We'll save her a plate. Unless, of course, she decides otherwise."

Dick smiled at him. "You're a good egg, Jay. I guess we can miss out on having her for Thanksgiving. Alfred invited her for Christmas."

Jay couldn't help it, his eyes bugging out a little. "He what? Jesus fuck on a silver platter, he didn't even ask me! Oh God, did he ask B?!"

"I doubt it," Dick chortled. "I imagine he's gonna work it so that B thinks he's the one who gave the invitation. Now come on, don't get squirrelly. Let's go find some more trouble to get into, okay?"

He shook his head at the blatant manipulation. "Yeah, sure, drop a bomb like that on me. Let's go find someone's ass to kick. Dent needs to learn to stay the fuck outta this neighborhood."

…

Other than the ticking of a clock and two sets of breath, the room was quiet. Talia stifled a yawn, her eyelids heavy; she would have liked to simply fall asleep where she lay. Lassitude warmed her to the very marrow, as good lovemaking often did, but she couldn't sleep. Her own bed was two rooms away.

She sat up, and Adem's arm around her waist tightened briefly. Talia looked at her lieutenant in the dark, just enough light filtering in to show her his sleepily satisfied expression. "You could stay," he murmured, and he sounded drowsy.

He wouldn't be her lieutenant if he was this careless, though, and Talia shook her head. "I think not."

Adem let her go, and Talia stood up unselfconsciously, retrieving her clothes. He had seen her body in better light than this, knew her curves as well as her scars, but still his gaze lingered on her. "You could, though. You choose not to."

Talia didn't pause, dressing with casual ease. "I am too well-trained an assassin to sleep with someone else in the room," she lied. It was easy to do so; she'd only ever let herself sleep beside one man, and he was thousands of miles away. Likely with a Cat snuggled up to him. There was one other she might have trusted so deeply, but Talia had been wary by then of letting anyone into her heart, knowing her love for a weakness. And so she had lost Jay, too, by never showing him how much he truly meant.

She heard Adem reach for something on the nightstand as she fastened her slacks, and ever alert for treachery, Talia reached for her own gun casually. He was only getting a cigarette, though, and she buckled the revolver around her hips as his lighter scratched a flame to life, and he drew in smoke. Adem looked at her in the red light of the cigarette's ember, and said quietly, "You don't trust me."

That was partly true. She trusted him more than anyone else currently in Libya, and she let herself enjoy his attentions more than she probably should have. He was not a cure for her loneliness, but he kept it at bay for a little while. And bedding him kept him more loyal to her than to her father. At least for now. That did not mean she trusted him completely. She'd learned her lesson on that score years before, when his predecessor thought to use his privileged position to blackmail her.

So she kept her voice warm, almost affectionate, as she replied, "If I didn't trust you, Adem, you'd be dead." And Talia smiled as she shrugged into her blouse, not bothering with the bra.

As expected, his eyes followed her breasts, and the threat of death only darkened his gaze with lust. Some men found danger attractive, and Talia knew Adem was of that ilk. The deadlier she was, the more he desired her. Men.

He took another drag off the cigarette, resting his other arm behind his head. "True. We are very useful to each other, aren't we? And you need me here, in this nest of serpents that might or might not be loyal to your father."

Talia chuckled, and sat down beside him on the rumpled sheet. "Let's be honest, shall we? My father likes to think he is an inspired leader, but most of these men are loyal only to their own best interests. They'll follow anyone who seems likely to win. Right now they think Shiva has the upper hand, and half of them are ready to venerate her as a goddess. They'll swing right back into line once we resume control of the compound, and remove the obvious dissenters."

"And what do you think I'm loyal to?" Adem asked, with genuine curiosity in his gaze.

A dangerous question, that. Talia plucked the cigarette from his hand, held it aside, and leaned down to kiss him. She closed her eyes to do it, not seeing Adem in her mind's eye; the taste of menthol and tobacco on his lips helped. At the sudden passion in her kiss, his hand caught her hip with reawakening desire.

Talia pulled away, smiling down at him. "Your own best interests, of course. You worship neither gods nor demons, Adem. But you know I'll look out for you, as long as you keep my trust. You also know that if you betray me, I'll cut your throat without an instant's hesitation."

Men always had trouble thinking when they were aroused, and he blinked at her for a second. Then he relaxed into a lazy grin. "You're ruthless … but I like that about you."

"Good," Talia said, and stole a drag from the cigarette before handing it back to him. "I'm giving some thought to sending you to Shiva as my inside agent. Do you think you can convince her that you're dissatisfied in my service? I'd rather not have her take suspicion, and kill you."

"You'd miss me if she did," he said, almost gloating. "Maybe a second or two of hesitation, after all."

Talia smiled indulgently, as she once had at a younger man whose pride was sweeter to see. "Perhaps. Don't make me prove it, hmm?"

"No," he said, his voice husky, the hand on her hip drifting down to the curve of her thigh. "I can fool Shiva. She's arrogant – that makes it easier. I'll tell her I'm tired of playing you and your father against one another. That should be easy enough to sell."

Talia touched his face lightly, keeping her own expression fond and gentle even as a whisper of disquiet spoke in her chest. "We are rather a burden, aren't we? I can almost pity anyone caught up in our endless games of chess."

"The perks are worth it," Adem told her, and his eyes brightened with the humor even as he squeezed her thigh. She felt safe then, until he spoke again, more seriously. "You ought to think about getting out, though. Ra's al Ghul will never let you do as you please."

Her hand slipped down to his throat. "Your predecessor's chief mistake was telling me what I should or should not do," she informed him. "Pray don't follow in his footsteps, Adem. You're much too useful to waste."

"Advice isn't an order," he told her, appropriately chastened, and Talia caught his hand, lifting it from her thigh so she could rise. But she kissed his knuckles, and pressed her cheek against his palm, as if he meant far more to her than he did.

"Until the morning," she told him softly, and left the room, keeping her expression fond all the way to the door. Only once it was closed behind her did she let the mask fall.

Getting out – as if it were that easy. There was really only one place she could go, and then she'd have to face the possibility of being turned away. She couldn't even blame them. Anywhere Talia went, her father would follow, and Ra's al Ghul would stop at nothing to bring his favorite child back into the fold. Somewhere way down in the depths of her soul, Talia howled at the unfairness of it.

The surface of her mind didn't even hear the cries of anguish. That part of her – the part that remembered being cherished by her father, before she'd grown old enough to have much will of her own – had been wailing fruitlessly for a long time.

Even if she could somehow flee, what of Damian? He was too young to go on the run. And she could not leave him with his grandfather. Talia could barely force herself to leave his side even for missions like this; it would break her heart to leave him forever. Besides, if she parted from Ra's … he would use Damian to bring her back. In whatever manner would be most effective. She knew that, even as she knew that she could never do such a thing. If she ran, she'd have to bring him, and Damian might slow her down fatally. There was the option of taking him to his father, but that could get extremely complicated.

No, she would never be able to get out. All she could do was make the best of the situation. And try to keep the people she loved safe from all harm.

She stepped into her room, closed the door behind her, and bowed her head where no one could see her. Talia's life was a series of impossible choices, and only the thought that her father's ultimate goals were the greater good of the entire planet kept her on course.

Still, it was hard to love a planet. Much easier to love a small boy who had inherited her fondness for drawing, and who despite rigorous training still believed that no real harm could come to him. His faith in her, and in Ra's, was still unshaken.

As long as Talia had any say in the matter, that last shred of innocence would prevail.

Sighing, she leaned back against the door. Enough maudlin mental wandering. She had to plan an assault on one of the most heavily fortified compounds the League of Shadows maintained. It had many natural defenses, but its crucial weakness was in its staff – which Shiva had already exploited. To turn them back would not be difficult. It would only require sufficient bloodshed and a show of strength.

Talia chuckled dryly. She knew very well how to pretend strength she did not feel. She'd had a lifetime of practice.

…

Kala slapped her buzzing phone and groaned. It was too early … but if she wanted to take advantage of the hotel's breakfast buffet, she had to crawl out of bed and get down there in the next half hour. Sleep … or crispy bacon, greek yogurt, and the selection of fresh fruit you only got in California? Food won.

She brushed her hair, put on the minimum amount of makeup to avoid being asked if she was sick, and got dressed, opting for jeans and a concert t-shirt. The boys had been mollified by her semi-truthful explanation of the bruises on her belly, but they were all watching her closely now. Even a little thing like going to breakfast bare-faced would have them asking after her solicitously. She should've been touched by their concern, but frankly, it was just another pain in the ass right now.

Kala left the curtains open through all of it, soaking up as much sun as she could. She missed her mornings with her father, but between the tour schedule and her nights in Gotham, she didn't even wake up at sunrise anymore.

The holidays were coming, they had a good long break, and then just a few more months 'til it was over. Back to the garage and the studio, back to a less-hectic life, and the next tour schedule wasn't going to be anywhere near this insane.

Suddenly she realized that the garage jam sessions were gonna be awkward as hell. Sebast was still in the house. They might be able to patch things up somehow, but living together? That was gonna be painful. And she couldn't ask him to leave, he'd put down half the money for the place and paid half the bills. He might just ask her to leave; both of them had their parents' homes to go back to.

Groaning, Kala rode the elevator down, resolving to deal with that later. Right now she just wanted lots of coffee and some food. She was focused on nothing more important than that … until she stepped off the elevator, and heard Robb give a nervous chuckle.

Robb was pretty chill about anything except promotional stuff, usually. The thing that made him really anxious was talking to women. In his own mind, he was much heavier than his actual weight, and he tended to assume that women dismissed him as a fat loser. Add that to some impostor syndrome, thinking he wasn't really a rock star despite the band's sales figures, and you got a great recipe for awkwardness, especially around women in the industry. Kala would've cheerfully slapped any woman who put him down like that, even though he wasn't her own type. He was a good guy, and one of her boys besides; he deserved better.

So she bristled, and zeroed in on the sound of his voice, head up and boot-heels striking the tile sharply. No one messed with her boys – Jay had been right, the mama bear gene certainly did breed true.

Kala found Robb standing by the breakfast area in an awkward semi-cringe, and the woman in front of him was certainly gorgeous enough to make any of the guys stammer. Tall – Kala's own height, or maybe an inch more – with long perfectly blonde hair, and the kind of hourglass figure that only came from hours in the gym or elective surgery. She had a sweet face, though, big blue eyes and a charming smile. Kala noticed her outfit – heels, skirt, a chic blouse – and her makeup – the kind of subtle application that took plenty of practice to achieve – and figured her for some kind of PR hack. She looked like she was all about appearances, shallow and vain. The only odd detail was a small wrapped package she was carrying. Kala paid it no mind; she swept in knowing that she looked like some kind of angry Goth stereotype. And not caring.

Robb looked around at the sound of her boots, as did the blonde. His eyes went wide at the sight of Kala, but the woman looked frightened for a second, then miserable. Still, she didn't flee, and Robb stepped in front of her, throwing both hands out at Kala in a stop gesture. "Whoa, whoa, stand down, Kala," he said hurriedly. "It's all good, this is Jennifer, she's cool, I just didn't expect to see her already. Don't break out the blue belt, just … relax and have some coffee, okay?"

Kala stopped, blinking. And the blonde raised one hand in a tiny wave. "Hi," she said, sounding just as timid and awkward as Robb. "You must be Robb's boss. Nice to meet you?"

That made her laugh. This was absolutely not what she had expected to walk into. She'd read the situation completely wrong, and Jay would've torn her a new one for being so far off target. Poor girl, too, this was a hell of a reception. "I'm not his boss. I just work here, too. I'm sorry, Jennifer, I didn't mean to come out on the warpath like that. Sometimes we get people from other labels trying to cause trouble – I haven't had coffee yet and couldn't think of another reason why anyone would be dressed so well this early in the morning. I'm Kala, leader of this band of yahoos. Nice to finally meet you." Only now did she remember Robb talking about meeting his long-distance girlfriend in California. Chagrined, Kala held her hand out, and gave her a welcoming smile.

Jennifer blushed a little at the compliment. "Thanks! It's no problem, I should've called first and everything, but I was so excited to finally meet Robb." She glanced at him when she said it, and her eyes brightened. Meanwhile he blushed and fidgeted.

Oh God, they've both got it so bad, Kala thought, unaware how many people had thought the same looking at her and Jay. "You get to meet the whole crazy crew, looks like."

Ned chose that moment to stroll over with a plate of bacon and eggs. "Don't mind Kala. She's just overprotective. I'm Ned, by the way."

"Ah, but you guys like me that way, Skellington," Kala retorted, smirking as Ned returned the gesture.

Morgan had followed him, and Jennifer shook each of their hands while Kala hurried off to get some coffee and breakfast. Her boys might very well eat it all, if she wasn't quick. The rest of them took over the biggest table, and as Kala joined them, Robb was opening his gift. "I would've gotten you something, if I'd known," he was telling Jennifer, smiling shyly.

"It's okay, I just saw it and thought of you," she replied. Her eyes were really expressive, brimming over with joy and something else. Kala slid in between Morgan and Ned, studying her unobtrusively, and decided that her initial impression was way wrong. In Jennifer's industry, she had to pay careful attention to appearances, but that didn't mean it was all she cared about. By the way she behaved around the band, the blonde simply wanted very badly to be liked. That eagerness to please reminded Kala of quite a few people she knew – and she'd seen the same look in the mirror. Didn't everyone want to be well-regarded?

The gift was a coffee mug, and on the side was a version of the evolution of humans stock image, starting from the silhouette of an ape-like ancestor through Australopithecus to modern man. The last, and therefore most highly evolved, silhouette was of a man playing a guitar. Robb beamed at it, and turned delighted eyes on Jennifer. "That's awesome!" he told her. "Where'd you find something like this?"

She blushed, and told him the name of the shop, and Kala just sat back to watch the two of them being incredibly cute together. It was nice to see something wholesome and drama-free, and she let herself bask in the high-octane happiness.

Derek came down after a while, and Kala glared at him. If he said one rude word to Jennifer, she'd shut him down right here in public. Let TMZ air that. Never mind anything Marlene had said about giving him a chance, she remembered how he'd acted when he found out what Jennifer did for a living.

He glanced at Kala, and she narrowed her eyes. Try me, bitch. Just try me. Wisely, Derek didn't, getting a bagel and sitting down with the rest. "You must be Jennifer," he said. Stiff, but not outright asinine, and from him that was practically a miracle.

Jennifer smiled at him too, and good God, she had dimples. "Yes, I'm sorry I came out early, I just couldn't wait to meet Robb. I hope I haven't messed anything up."

Something about her seemed to strike a chord of courtesy in Derek, and he actually smiled back. "No, it's no problem. You actually got everyone up and moving in record time. That's a plus, in this business."

Jennifer demurred, "I think that was the breakfast buffet, not me."

"Nah, we can eat half-asleep," Morgan said. "We woke up for conversation."

"It's always nice to have someone new to tell all the crazy road-stories to," Ned added.

"Oh no, come on, we're not doing that," Robb cut in hastily. "Jennifer, they exaggerate. Don't believe anything they tell you."

That got all of them chuckling. "Oh, come on, Robb," Morgan wheedled. "Don't you wanna tell her about the time we all drove two hours in the wrong direction because Ned's map got wet and the ink bled through?"

Kala rolled her eyes. "You guys have to get some new stories. You tell the same ones to everybody."

"Perks of being on the road," Ned replied. "People don't know your whole history. How about that car you and … yeah, the car you were driving, starting out? Thing's primary color was Bond-O."

That car you and Sebast were driving, he'd started to say, and shifted gears mid-sentence. Kala's last mouthful of deliciously silky yogurt suddenly felt like glue. She swallowed anyway, soldiering on, "Look, my brother and I bought that car with our very own money. So it looked like crap. Dustin helped us get her running, and after we covered all the rust-holes in Bond-O, we got a couple friends in visual art at Stalmaster to paint her up."

"We're talking like a 1990 Buick Century here," Robb said, getting into the spirit of the thing. "Big square boxy thing, with the trippiest graffiti you ever saw painted up the sides. Godzilla on the hood, Mothra on the trunk. And even after she bought her brother out and it was her car, she kept it like that."

"I loved that car," Kala protested. "She got us from Metropolis to Los Angeles and back. She'd still be running now if she hadn't thrown a piston clear through the hood trying to come up I-70 in Colorado. It would've cost more than the whole car was worth to rebuild the engine, even with Dustin coming out to work on it and doing the labor ourselves."

"You work on cars?" Jennifer asked, eyebrows going up.

Kala grinned; nothing better in the world than defying expectation. It was practically her birthright. "Oh yeah. My mom never wanted me to be helpless, stuck on the side of the road with a flat tire or a busted serpentine belt."

"Neither did my dad," Jennifer replied. "He had a '64 Impala he was restoring when I was growing up. I started out handing him wrenches, but by the time I was in high school he was letting me put parts in because I could reach places he couldn't."

"Dustin – that's Kala's ex, the mechanic – had her doing that when were in Kansas last time," Robb chuckled. "Real smooth. 'Oh hey, you've got little hands, get this bolt off for me please?' And of course she did."

"Which how I met his current girlfriend with engine grease all over my arm," Kala said dryly. "She's cool, though."

"That's good for her. You didn't have to chase her out of town like the last one," Ned replied.

"That bitch from Possum Trot shouldn't have tried using him for his money," Kala growled.

Jennifer cocked her head, and smiled. "You're kind of a spitfire, aren't you?"

She was going to protest – as long as no one messed with people she cared about, Kala didn't go looking for trouble, at least not in her civilian identity – but Morgan cut in. "Oh hell yeah she is," he told Jennifer. "She's a blue belt in something I can't pronounce. A couple weeks ago she taught us all how to get out of chokeholds."

"Guys," Kala protested, laughing.

Ned just leaned in. "She can throw me on the floor like I'm not eight inches taller. Right now she's dating her martial arts instructor, and they beat the crap outta each other all the time."

"Okay, guys, that's enough," Kala said. She gave Jennifer a helpless shrug. "Yeah, all right, I've got a blue belt in seido juku. My trainer taught me some taekwondo and hapkido, plus some street-fighting stuff. It's great for keeping in shape, and I don't have to worry about creepy people after shows."

"I did taekwondo, too," Jennifer said, brightening. "It was more fun than zumba. Sounds like you're a little more serious, though."

"Well, sometimes it comes in handy," Kala admitted.

If only they knew how hard she really trained, and how she used it. For a brief, mad moment brought on by sudden changes of perception and lack of coffee, Kala let herself imagine what would happen if anyone at the table knew they were sitting with the Blur, Gotham's newest crime-fighter. Or that the Blur wasn't some random metahuman, she was actually Superman's daughter, and she had no intention of booking a plane ticket to get to Smallville for Thanksgiving.

That was an amusing mental picture, for a few minutes – Jennifer probably did the wide-eyed with amazement thing very well – until Kala thought about the rest of it. If anyone at this table knew she could cave in a roof, that her eyes lit up with heat-vision when she was angry, that she had an alter ego ready and willing to do whatever was necessary to protect herself and her friends…

Yeah, it was a very good thing she had Jay in her life. He knew her, all of her, and he liked her just the way she was, flaws and all. Of the rest, not even her own family knew the shadow in her mind as well as Jay did. And no one would stare down that darkness like Jay, fearless because he knew the feel of the blood on his hands the same way she did. He knew how easy it would be to solve things that way, until killing became the only tool he remembered how to use, and he dreaded that road as much as Kala did.

She made herself smile, and keep up the lighthearted conversation, but a thread of unease still ran through her. Despite being among close friends and coworkers whom she regarded as a kind of family, Kala still felt just the tiniest bit alone.