The four heroes emerged from their small shelters. Bruce and Shayera had thrown themselves off the edge of the platform and were now hanging from Bruce's grappling hook. He was hanging. Shayera was holding onto him. "Well, that went well," Shayera sighed in relief. She turned to look at Bruce, not realizing just how close their faces were to each other. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Swinging with Bruce would be quite romantic, if it weren't for the screeching bats who were upset about being disturbed and the stench of rotten eggs that was Lobo's insides. But all of the other stuff began to fade as Shayera slowly got lost in Bruce's blue orbs. No, no, no, Shayera, she mentally berated herself, you are not supposed to be doing this. This is a bad idea. Shayera glanced down at Bruce's lips as her brain screamed Abort! Abort! But her body had a mind of its own. Just when she was about to kiss him, they heard a "Bruce! Where are you?" Tim was calling for them. Shayera immediately backed away, biting her lip, as Bruce retracted the grappling gun, allowing himself and Shayera to be pulled up. He helped Shayera pull herself up, ignoring her "I don't need help." He knew she didn't need help. But he wanted to. He liked being next to her. "Oh, gross!" Jason said closing his nostrils and looking away. "He's everywhere. And he reeks," he complained, plugging his nose. Shayera didn't disagree. She turned to Bruce. "What now?" she asked breathlessly.

"We call J'ohnn," he said as he began to walk away. Shayera followed him off the platform while Jason and Tim argued over who was going to clean Lobo up. But instead of turning to where his computers were, which was the direction Bruce was heading, she turned in the direction of Lobo's bike. She switched off the motor that had still been running and found what she was looking for. Her sword. How Lobo was able to track her. She picked it up and carried it with her.


By the time J'ohnn had arrived, a hand and a foot of Lobo's had reformed. "That is so nasty," Jason said, staring at it from afar. "I am never going to be able to sleep again. Ever." J'ohnn had brought a medium sized, clear box. "It is made from a material found on Mars," he explained. "I will put him in here until we are able to transport him to the Watchtower." Bruce gave an affirmative nod. "I think I'm going to be sick," Jason said as he watched the Martian Manhunter mentally place the pieces of Lobo in the box. "Yep," he said, "I'm going to throw up." He immediately ran to a garbage can and began puking his guts out. "You're pathetic," Tim said reentering the batcave with Alfred. "Alfred and I finished assessing the damage," he began. "The good news is – the manor is still standing. The bad news is – we no longer have a billiards room...or a dining room. And we are going to need a new front door. Also, the floor in the foyer is all scratched up from his wheels. But the kitchen is in pretty decent shape," Tim finished with a smile.

"Hardly," Alfred crossed his arms, "the only thing still standing is the refrigerator."

"We should take care of the front door first," Bruce said. J'ohnn walked over to the small group, holding Lobo in the box. "Whenever you are ready, Bruce." Bruce quickly grabbed a sweatshirt throwing the hood over his head, effectively covering his eyes and nose. He didn't have time to put his Batman uniform on. Only the founding members of the league knew his identity, and he planned to keep it that way. "Tim, Jason, do something about the front door," Jason opened his mouth to protest, but Bruce kept talking, "Shayera and I should be back in a couple of hours." And then he disappeared along with J'ohnn, Lobo, and Shayera. "I just want to sleep," Jason moaned.

"The sooner we figure out the door situation, the sooner you can go back to sleep," Tim said turning on his heel. Jason mimicked him as he followed.


The three leaguers and Lobo appeared in the Watchtower. Superheroes stopped what they were doing to glare or gawk at Shayera and the man they did not recognize as Batman standing next to her. "I'll find a place to put Lobo as he regenerates," J'ohnn turned to the two heroes. "And then I'll summon the other founding league members. John is still in deep space. It may be a few hours before he returns. You both should shower and get some rest." He then stared at Shayera. "I am sorry, Shayera," he said, "but your room has been given away."

"It's okay," Bruce said, "she can bunk with me." He motioned for her to follow with his head.


"Wow," Shayera said entering Bruce's room. "So this is what Batman's room looks like at the Watchtower." He turned to her with a smirk. There was one queen-sized bed, one dresser, one closet, and one vestibule where a small shower was. "Wow," she said looking around the room.

"Not what you expected," he stated rummaging through his drawers.

"Oh no," Shayera said walking deeper into the room. "I totally expected this for Batman. It's Bruce I didn't expect." He said nothing as he turned around holding one of his black long-sleeved shirts and a pair of pants. "Shower first," he said holding the clothes out to her. He was in Batman mode now. Shayera took the articles of clothing from him. "At least this time you don't have to worry about me tearing your shirt because I no longer have my wings," she tried to say jokingly with a small smile, but her voice cracked at the end. Sorrow and pain replaced the playfulness in her eyes. "I really thought I had made peace with…" her voice trailed off as her eyes became teary. Bruce lifted a hand to comfort her, but Shayera turned towards the bathroom and said, "I won't be long." She brushed past him without another word.

After finishing his shower and dressing, Bruce exited the lavatory to find Shayera sitting up in bed, staring out the window at the stars. Bruce sat opposite her. "You want me rest somewhere else?" he asked. Shayera turned to him with a peculiar expression on her face. "Bruce," she said, "this is your room. If anyone should leave, it should be me." Bruce 'hmphed', still holding her gaze. Shayera looked away first, turning her eyes back to the stars. She felt the bed dip as Bruce crawled under the covers. "Try to get some rest, Shayera," he said softly. She looked at him again. "Bruce, you don't have to worry about me. I'm okay."

"Really?" he asked staring intently at her. "Are you?"

"I'm tougher than I look," she responded somewhat offended.

"I know you're tough," Bruce said. "I have never once doubted your physical capabilities. I am worried about your emotional state of being."

"Batman wants to talk about feelings?" Shayera said with a skeptical brow. Bruce rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. "Healthy emotional regulation shows great mental strength. When your emotions and mind work in tandem, your body and soul begin operating in harmony with each other. Healthy mind; healthy body. Someone who is at war with themselves is not someone I want watching my back when we're out in the field. Are you at war with yourself, Shayera?" he turned his blue eyes to her. This was such a weird conversation. These past 4 months, Shayera had seen a completely different side of Bruce. It was a bit unnerving if she was honest. That was probably why Batman's identity was so hard to guess. Batman was shrouded in darkness; Bruce Wayne wore a quarter of his heart on his sleeve. "I've learned a lot about you these past few months," Bruce said turning back to the ceiling.

"I could say the same of you," Shayera responded as she climbed underneath the cover.

"Yes," she could sense him smirking. "I have been showing you the part of myself only Alfred knows about."

"The playboy, overtly flirty side?" Shayera mocked turning to look at him.

"The side who cares," Bruce said turning back to her, pinning her with her gaze. Shayera's breath caught in her throat. "You think if you evade my questions, I won't be able to find the truth. A tactic that has worked in the past. What you don't know, is that the less you say, the more I learn." Shayera swallowed thickly. "Would you like to know what I have learned about you?"

"Don't psychoanalyze me," Shayera said with a huff, turning on her side, away from him. She didn't feel the bed dip, she didn't know how he did it, but next thing she knew, Bruce's voice was in her ear softly saying, "I know when you're lying." His breath sent shivers down her spine. She turned to face him, but he had his back to her. Shayera scoffed. No way he knew when she was lying. She didn't have any tells. Her mother had made sure of that.