Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the Justice League characters. I'm just having a bit of fun!

Notes: I have been working on this meshed-up idea for a while, so we will see where it leads. In this alternate/warped universe, Zatanna started in the Teen Titans before moving to the Justice League. I ignore the idea of a shared childhood between Zee and Bruce and have made him older. I've played fast and loose with some of the backstories and story lines, so if you're super precious about that, you might not enjoy it. If you, like me, want to see some ZZ/BW fic, hop on board! It's angsty!...duh, it's Bruce Wayne. ;)

Zatanna

The buzz of the Zeta Tube always unnerved her slightly. For something that felt and functioned so much like her magic, it didn't sound like anything from the mystic realm.

"RECOGNIZE – ZATANNA ZATARA". The electronic voice boomed through the Watchtower.

No subtle arrivals here, Zatanna thought, stepping into the entryway. Something about the tower at night made her uneasy. During the day, there were usually a dozen others whirling about the halls (some faster than others) and chatter coming from every corner. At night, the only sound was the dull thrum of the massive mechanical base hovering miles above solid ground. Not that she wasn't impressed by what surrounded her. On the contrary, she was perfectly capable of being in awe and terrified at the same time. She usually just tried not to think about how far away from Earth she was when she was there and only came when summoned; or for nights like this.

"Zatanna?"

The low, dark voice nearly made her jump across the room. "Christ, Batman, I didn't see you sitting there." Her mercurial leader had turned his chair from the monitors to fix his gaze on her. She wasn't fond of being the subject of said gaze, but she tried not to show it. He was dressed casually and seemed relaxed...a rarity.

"Why are you here so late? What's wrong?" It sounded like she was being interrogated. Was he going to frisk her for weapons next?

"No...I mean...nothing..." Smooth, Zee. She sighed and gathered her thoughts. "Is Dinah here? We were supposed to train tonight. She offered to help me brush up on my combat and…."

His voice cut short her rambling "She left with Oliver two hours ago".

Damn her. For a superhero, she sure was susceptible to the charms of a certain green-clad marksman. Not that Ollie didn't have considerable amounts of those charms, but surely there was some kind of female solidarity that should exist in situations like this.

"Why did you use the tube?"

"Huh?" Her mind had become preoccupied thinking of ways to make Dinah pay for ditching her for a date.

"The tube. You don't need it, so why do you use it?" He was studying her and sounded genuinely curious.

"Because you hate it when I use magic...unless it suits your needs." She snapped her mouth shut as soon as the last words escaped and she felt her eyes grow wider. Way to think before you speak.

The look of irritation at her words was fleeting, but hard to miss. As his face went back to its neutral state, she decided it would be a good time to leave. Not as good as, say, five minutes ago, but…

Bruce stood from his chair and started to walk down the hall. "Let's go," he rumbled. She glanced around the room, hoping someone else had been lurking in a corner, before conceding that he was talking to her. Almost tripping over her own feet, she started down the hall after him.

"Go where?" Her stomach was a bit knotted. Was he angrier at her flippant remark than she feared?

"You said you were here to train. Let's train."

Oh, this is not what I had in mind at all. Whatever mild punishment Zatanna had thought up for Dinah before was not going to be nearly enough to atone for this.

"It's okay, really. I can just come back another night. You're busy and…." Her voice trailed off as she looked at his stone face, staring at her as he held the door to the gym open. Ah, so this is how I'm going to die...cool.

Reluctantly, she eased past him and into the brightly-lit room, cursing Dinah's name in her head. The sound of the door closing behind them echoed and she felt the knot in her stomach grow tighter.

"Your father had you take martial arts classes when you were younger, yes?"

"For a few years, yeah. He didn't want me to only rely on my magic to protect myself. I asked Dinah to help because I'm out of practice."

"I've noticed", he said, much to her irritation. Zatanna rolled her eyes at his comment as she shed her jacket. At least she was dressed for the occasion – workout clothes...all black.

Appropriate for both an ass kicking and a funeral

"No magic," the gruffness returned to his voice. "This is about protecting yourself."

"Fine, but no gadgets". She knew her counter was weak, but she said it anyway.

"I don't need them."

Before the words had fully left his mouth, he had her flying through the air, tumbling head over heels and onto her back on the mat. His knee was on her neck, providing just enough pressure to get his point across. Apparently, warm-up stretching was too much to ask for.

"You're slow and unaware."

"I wasn't ready," she choked out, trying to think through the pain of hitting the mat.

"Do you think the enemy is going to give you time to get ready?" His tone was condescending, which probably was somewhat deserved.

She tried to match his piercing glare as she stood and recovered her bearings. He was circling her slowly, like an animal assessing its prey. Her nerves were on edge now. Just try to counter ONE strike, Zee. She had little confidence that she could. Or maybe just don't get killed. Small victories are still victories.

He lunged toward her again. She sidestepped him once, twice, before fully catching his next blow to her body. The wind knocked out of her, she doubled over onto the mat.

"Are you okay? I didn't..."

As he reached downward to help her up, she took her opportunity. She swung her head up and toward his, causing a sickening cracking sound as his nose shattered. He stumbled backward, cursing as blood flowed down his face and into his hands.

Yep. This is the end of dear Zatanna.

The blazing look from his eyes chilled her to the core. She took a step backward instinctively, desperate for an escape. Now she knew what his enemies saw before they fell victim to his justice. Just as she thought he would strike, his eyes relaxed.

"That was...good." His muffled voice sounded surprised. "I should probably get this set. I think J'onn is still here."

"Um...no need," she offered nervously. She was still a little afraid to close the gap between them in case he remembered that he was about to kill her, but she held her shaky hand up and beckoned him to come forward. With a wary look in his eyes, he came to stand in front of her and dropped his hand from his still-bleeding nose.

"Laeh," she uttered the backward word, causing a warm glow to emit from her hand and extend to Bruce's mangled face. The spell worked quickly, restoring his nose to its normal chiseled glory. "Evomer eht doolb."

"There," she said as cheerfully as she could muster, still fearing for her life, "good as new".

He let his hand briefly assess his repaired face as he studied her.

"Thanks", he mumbled. "Maybe we should use protective gear next time."

Her stomach returned to its knotted state. Next time? There's going to be a next time? She resolved that she simply could not allow Dinah to live after this. Not as a human, anyway. Maybe a slug or something.

"I appreciate it, Bruce, but I really think..."

He held a hand up to stop her. "I promised your father when you joined the Titans and then the League that I would make sure you would be safe. I intend to keep that promise." His face was serious now, his brow furrowed. The mention of her father made her recoil slightly. "You need to be able to protect yourself."

"Really, Dinah can..."

"Every Tuesday night, 8 pm," he ordered as he walked out of the gym, "with gear next time."

A slug wasn't going to be enough punishment.

Shadowcrest

Slipping her legs into the almost-too-hot bath, Zatanna attempted to relax her muscles after the encounter she'd had with Bruce. He had never seemed to pay her much mind before, mainly working closely with the senior members of the team such as Wonder Woman and Superman. His attention only turned to her when her particular set of skills were deemed to be useful. Because of this, she was more than a little surprised to hear him mention a promise to her father; particularly with such intensity in his voice.

Her head rolled back to rest on the edge of the tub. Every Tuesday night, 8 pm. "Shit." She could think of much more enjoyable ways of spending her Tuesday evenings than sparring with a grumpy superhero who spoke fewer words in a week than she did in a typical afternoon of practice at the theater. He had been even worse recently. Word had gotten around that something had gone down between him and Catwoman, though the details were never clear to her. She usually stayed out of the gossip rotation. Their relationship seemed toxic enough without a falling-out coming into play, and now Zatanna felt like she was going to be an outlet for his broody frustration. Not that she felt like she was in danger of him truly hurting her, but she wasn't expecting anything pleasant to happen during these weekly sessions. She would find a way to get out of it, she determined. His attention rarely fell to her, so surely it would be easy to get it shifted elsewhere again.

Not quite convinced, but too tired to give it more thought, Zatanna eased back out of the bath and readied for bed. She needed her energy back so she could murder Dinah in the morning.

Bruce Wayne
Watchtower

The last few weeks had taken more of a toll on him than he was willing to admit. He felt worn. Stretched out across too many projects, his nerves were ragged and reflexes lagging. At least, that's what he convinced himself of after Zatanna had busted his nose into at least a dozen pieces with the back of her skull. His hand instinctively returned to assess her repair, not entirely believing that it was permanent. Once he determined it was still in one piece, his fingers went to rub his eyes.

Too many hours in front of these damn screens.

Bruce knew that allowing Kate, Tim, and Barbara to take over patrolling several nights a week was for the best. He wasn't getting any younger and, after a year, he could feel the benefit the lighter workload had on his body. The aches and pains were still there, but dulled; he was able to push them further back in his mind than before. He had even felt a step faster lately (tonight's mishap notwithstanding). That didn't mean he was happy about handing control of the Gotham streets over to his younger counterparts; which is why he spent his "off" evenings in the Batcave or in front of the Watchtower monitors. At least he had some sort of control that way.

When you aren't getting your nose broken, that is.

Zatanna had been a wild card since she joined. Her skills had been useful, at times, but he never trusted their source. Magic made him uncomfortable and her secretive nature only enhanced his unease. She was charismatic, with an easy smile and quick wit. The rest of the Titans and League had taken to her quickly because of this. Dick was the most smitten, of course. Their relationship had been intense, to say the least, despite their shared joyful and easy-going natures. Of course, neither had confided in Bruce about what went wrong, but it was ugly enough that everyone knew better than to bring Bludhaven's guardian up around Zatanna. He suspected it wasn't over, and this bothered him. He needed both of them to focus on their duties. This is why he frowned upon fraternization among the team (though it wasn't banned...much to the delight of far too many of his teammates). Distractions were dangerous, and they had enough danger to deal with as it was.

This evening had reminded him of that danger...and of the promise he had made to Zatara. Bruce had noticed Zatanna's barely-passable hand-to-hand combat skills during their last mission together. Too many enemies would try to target her weakness and she needed to be able to fight if she found herself without a voice. Dinah was a great martial artist, but clearly was not a reliable teacher. He would have to see to things himself.

RECOGNIZE – TIM DRAKE

Hearing the announcement that signaled the end of his shift pulled him out of his planning for Zatanna's training. Bruce pushed back from the control center and headed toward his Zeta tube, giving Tim a quick update on Kate's patrol. He needed to rest before the morning board meeting at Wayne Enterprises. Half of his time spent at Wayne Tower was board meetings, it seemed.

"You are the CEO and Chairman of the Board. I really do not now what else you expect." Alfred would say, dismissing his complaints about the meetings. He knew he had a part to play and that maintaining Wayne Enterprises was just as important as maintaining the Justice League. They were inexorably bound to one another. The money he made and tech he produced at one allowed the other to continue its existence. His only wish was that he could send a cardboard cutout of himself to sit in his chair. He rarely spoke on matters anyway, with Lucius Fox spearheading most of the vital operations, so he doubted anyone would notice the difference. Lucius. One of few people he trusted implicitly. That list was short...and grew shorter every day, it seemed.

He looked at the clock as he slid into bed. 2 AM. At least if he got a few hours of sleep, he might not fall asleep at the board room table again.

Zatanna
Diamond Theater

Zatanna didn't like requesting favors from the legacy her father had left behind, but being able to use the Diamond Theater as a rehearsal studio during the week was something she had come to appreciate. Her father performed there often and had developed a friendship with the owners; a now-septuagenarian couple named Marshall and Sarah Brooks. Once she joined the League, she knew having a large stage for rehearsals would be needed that didn't require her to travel to the other side of the continent. She had arranged to pay them a very generous rental fee for daytime use of the theater when she was in Gotham City.

San Francisco was home, but Gotham was where she spent a large part of her childhood; a decision her father had made when she was still young. He was able to work along the coasts without taking her too far from one "home" or the other. Still, she often felt more at home in a hotel room (preferably a posh one, paid for by whichever theater owner was currently employing her). She had traveled so much as a child that it made her feel out of place to stay in one location for too long. Military brats have nothing on me.

The League changed things. She still booked her tours and would take a hiatus from the team to work, but stayed in Gotham between contracts - helping with the League and rehearsing for her next booking. Keeping things new and interesting for her fans was important to her, even if her crew complained at the long hours they would have to put into preparation. She paid them well, but made no restrictions on the amount of complaining they were allowed to carry out. Maybe she should. The whining had been particularly impressive the last few weeks.

"It's Vegas. We can't be dull in Vegas." Zatanna had chided.

"You're never dull, Zee," Sophie had interjected in an attempt to get her to call it an early night. "It's 6 and I'm hungry and you're tired and Jenny is sleeping in the water chamber again." A glance to the side of the stage confirmed this. "Besides, didn't you say you had somewhere to be at 8 tonight?"

Zee rolled her eyes. "Fine. Go home. But we are going an extra hour tomorrow. We have to get the finale right or we'll burn half of the Strip to the ground."

"Thanks, Boss! You're the best."Yeah, when I let you leave early. Sophie pounded gleefully on the water chamber to wake Jenny and they both bolted from the theater before she could change her mind.

They probably did deserve a rest. Zatanna had been driving them harder than usual for this gig. She wanted everything to be perfect. Never cheat the audience. They are the real stars. Her father's words rang in her ears during every rehearsal.

More than she wanted to be perfect, she had wanted to forget her training with Bruce. It had been a week, but she still had not come up with a clever lie to get out of her commitment. Was it a commitment? For the life of her, she could not remember saying "yes" to his offer (it was more of a demand, really). But, for now, she was stuck. She found it unlikely he would forget. He never seemed to forget anything. His mental capacity matched his physical prowess, from what she could tell. Those social skills could certainly use some fine-tuning, though. Or some rough tuning. Maybe another blow to the face would knock some congeniality into him.

She locked the theater and walked back to Shadowcrest. The air was cool and refreshing. She loved the memories in the Diamond Theater, but the air was more than a bit musty. By the time she got home, she felt refreshed. She changed into her workout clothes and sat staring at the clock. Maybe he would take it easy on her for this first meeting. Considering he had nearly kicked her across the room last time, that didn't seem too likely. A girl can dream. At 15 'til, she walked to the Zeta tube. She considered teleporting there just to annoy him, but figured an annoyed Batman would probably just try even harder to knock her on her ass. There was bound to be enough of that as it was.

Watchtower

RECOGNIZE – ZATANNA ZATARA

He wasn't in his usual chair at the monitors. Instead, Barb looked up and waved at her as she entered the room.

"Bruce is in the gym waiting for you. He said to go on in."

"Great, thanks" Zee mumbled, turning down the hall and willing herself toward the door.

She entered the room, which was set up differently this week. There were several punching bags hanging along the right wall and the weight bench had been moved further away from the mat.

"Where's your gear?" The voice came from out of nowhere, as usual...and she jumped two feet in the air at it, as usual. He always gravitated naturally to the darkest spot of the room for maximum startling ability, it seemed.

"I don't have gear. Unless you were expecting a wand and top hat."

He sighed and walked to the locker room, returning in less than a minute with headgear, sparring gloves, and what she could only guess was a size XXXL flak vest that would swallow her whole. She took the items and donned them to the best of her ability. The vest felt absurd, but she did value the integrity of her ribs, so she made an effort to tighten it to her decidedly non-XXXL frame.

Wearing similar gear (that actually fit), Bruce motioned for her to join him in the center of the sparring mat. She was fully ready to be flying across the room soon. Would it be too much to ask for some ill-fitting butt padding, also?

"You need to work on your awareness." He reached his right hand up and held it next to her face. "Your enemies will be bigger and stronger than you. You have to be faster and smarter."

Correctly sensing his right hand was a distraction, she was able to dodge his incoming left, though she lost her balance in the process and quickly became caught in a choke hold.

"Escape." He barked into her ear. "You're two seconds from a broken neck."

She felt like she was being wrestled by a grizzly bear. His arms were massive and his body felt like a brick wall behind her. She flung an elbow toward his head, only to have him trap her arm and pull it awkwardly behind her. It wasn't the most comfortable position.

"Escape!" He barked again.

His arm tightened around her neck, and the decreased ability to move and breathe sent her into a sudden panic. Without thinking, she bit into his arm. She could taste the blood at the same moment she heard him groan in pain. His grip loosened just enough for her to drop down and bring her elbow to his groin. A sharp cry and he was doubled over, his arms releasing her. Free from his grip, she darted across the room and slammed herself against the door. She stood facing him, eyes still wide with panic.

"Fuck..." He lurched in her direction, still half bent over from the pain. She was sure he was about to take her down like a rag doll, but he instead angled to his left and walked to a sink in the far corner.

Her senses were coming back to her. The panic that had caused her to act like a feral animal began to fade and it was rapidly being replaced with a familiar sense of dread. She honestly wasn't sure why she had panicked, but something about the tightness of his grip on her caused an adrenaline rush that short-circuited her better judgment. That's two weeks in a row you've bloodied him. If she wasn't so terrified of how he would react this time, she would be proud.

She was still cowering against the entrance when he strode back into the room, holding a towel to his arm. He studied her carefully; could he sense her fear? He tossed the blood-stained towel aside and smirked, taking his knuckles and rapping them on his groin...an athletic cup now clearly in place.

"Knew I forgot something," he said, before motioning for her to return to the mat. "Let's try something a little less intense."

Her mind told her to move, but her muscles weren't responding...still rigid and coiled, ready for the next blow. She felt like she was glued to the wall. He stared at her, his brow furrowed, the smirk gone. Was he worried or angry?

"I won't hurt you, Zatanna," his voice was gentler now, his eyes looking into hers; probably trying to figure out what her problem was. "In fact, I'm beginning to realize I might have misjudged my opponent a bit." A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. She wasn't sure she had ever seen him smile before; she liked it. "Really, come back over. I'll show you some counter moves. No choke holds, I promise." He held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture that finally made her calm enough that her legs started to move.

Ah, right. Ambulation. That's how it works. She willed herself to chill the hell out before he decided she was a complete headcase and kicked her off of the team.

The rest of the session involved Bruce showing her how to counter various strikes. Some of the moves she remembered from her previous training. Some were more advanced. He even showed her how to disarm an opponent and take them down all in one motion, but that one would require more practice before she wanted to try it out in the real world.

They ended on the punching bags, and she was dripping in sweat by the end of their workout. To her surprise, she had actually enjoyed herself. It was the most she had ever heard him talk and he was a good instructor. Maybe this wouldn't be strictly torture, after all.

"Next week, same time." He ordered again, leaving the gym.

"No choke holds," she said hopefully. She could swear she heard him chuckle slightly as the door closed, but that seemed unlikely.

Tonight's bath would need to be extra long. And extra hot.

Bruce Wayne
Wayne Manor

Two sessions, two bloody injuries. Bruce wasn't sure if he was just off his game or if something else was going on. Zatanna had repaired his wound (again) before she headed back to Shadowcrest. He rubbed his arm, still remembering the pain of her teeth tearing into him and winced at the memory of her shot to his groin. Her reaction to the choke hold would have been natural, if he had been her enemy. Was she really that afraid of him? He didn't like the thought. His enemies should fear him, but his allies…he wondered if maybe he had let his dark demeanor seep too far into his encounters with the younger members of the League. They needed to trust him, and vice versa. That wouldn't happen with Zatanna if she thought he would break her neck during training.

He resolved to find a way to gain her trust. How? He had no idea. From what he could tell, they could not have less in common. Time for some detective work.

It didn't take much digging to find out that she was renting the Diamond Theater for her rehearsals. Zatanna didn't hide. In fact, everyone in Gotham and the rest of the world seemed to know who she was and that she was helping the Justice League. Bruce disliked this, but there was little he could do. She was convinced that she could take care of herself. Her fame and personality made her a darling of the media. Story after story about her shows, the deaths of her parents, her fashion, and, in particular, her dating life.

Well, there's one thing we have in common. Hardly something to bond over, though. At least, not without a lot of alcohol being involved.

She had risen to the top of many most-eligible bachelorette lists across the country. Every major event brought out a new piece of arm candy for her to pose with. Only a few outlets had caught on to what was seemingly her only serious relationship: with Dick Grayson. Dick was famous in his own right, and Bruce often wondered if that was why they had bonded so quickly. Their upbringings were far from typical, much like his own. They also had experienced too much tragedy in their young lives.

Deciding he had done enough digging into her headlines, Bruce closed his laptop and returned to the monitoring room. Barbara was scrolling through news feeds to see if anything needed attention.

"Good workout?"

"Fine. Anything I need to know?"

"Tim is on patrol. A few break-ins, a carjacking, and some street fights. Nothing exciting."

"Thanks, Batgirl, I can take over."

Barbara gathered her things and left. He knew she had a statistics test on Thursday and needed the study time. And he needed to distract his mind from another strange encounter with their resident sorceress.

Zatanna
Diamond Theater

Everything was coming together. The finale had been perfected, she had her routines down, and her team had stopped complaining and was finally excited for their engagement in Vegas. Five nights a week for six weeks. She would be exhausted by the end, but the publicity gained from playing one of the best venues in Sin City (coupled with a very generous compensation package from the casino manager) would be worth it.

"Okay, everyone, we leave in three days. Pack up, be ready, and I'll meet you at the airport on Friday." Zee couldn't hide the excitement in her voice as she practically skipped out of the theater and headed home. Her life had become a blur recently. Practice, League meetings, training sessions, and sleep were all she had time for. She had even been asked along on a few missions with the senior Leaguers in the last few weeks. Wonder Woman, in particular, seemed to enjoy having her along. Diana had no qualms about the use of magic and appreciated the time that could be saved by teleporting to their next location and tracking their targets. The Amazon dealt in her own brand of magic, so it was no surprise to Zatanna that it all seemed normal to her. More than that, they had become good friends. Diana had started calling her "sister" and it made her feel a kinship that she had been missing since she lost her father.

Not that she wasn't also close to her stage crew. They meant the world to her and she trusted them with her life (and limbs, of course...chainsaws being a regular visitor on stage), but they didn't understand the part of her that needed to help the Justice League.

"Why bother? You have all the money you could ever need, fame, houses, guys panting after you at every turn...why spend your free time fighting the world's worst criminals?" Sophie had frequently inquired.

"It just means a lot to me. My father told me that if I could use my magic to help people, I should. I can, so...the Justice League is the best place for it."

"Best place to get killed," she grumbled in response. "I worry about you, Zee."

"Don't. I have several superhuman godlike creatures watching my back at every turn. I'll be fine."

"Okay, but I refuse to not worry. And not just because I need the paycheck. I care about you."

"It's mostly the paycheck, isn't it?" Zatanna raised an eyebrow.

"Like, 50/50 caring to paycheck balance, boss."

Zee couldn't help but laugh. She knew her crew cared about her. She also knew that she wouldn't quit helping people as long as she was able. But the next six weeks? That was all about the shows.

After one more training session.

She assumed (more hoped, really) that this would be the last one. Six weeks away would likely lead Bruce's attention elsewhere. Her feelings about it were more mixed than she had expected. She had come to genuinely enjoy and appreciate the help. He'd grown more relaxed and her skills had improved exponentially. She didn't even need to resort to dirty moves to get her licks in anymore. Her body could use a break, though.

Watchtower

For the first time, Bruce hadn't beaten her to the gym. I'll count that as another victory. He seemed distracted when he did enter.

"We might have to keep tonight short." He was looking at his phone, brow furrowed.

"No complaints here; I need to pack."

"Pack?" He didn't look at her.

"For Vegas? Six weeks. Harrah's. I told you, I'm taking hiatus from the League for this. Why did you think I've been rehearsing so much?" His lack of memory of her schedule didn't exactly surprise her.

He grunted once and nodded. "Right. You'll get rusty again."

"I'll practice on my own."

"Ha!" His sudden mocking outburst caught her off guard.

"What?" She smiled at his reaction, despite her irritation at his lack of faith in her. "There's a gym in the hotel; I already checked."

"Whatever you say," his tone made clear that he had no hope that she would follow through. "If this is the last time I'm going to have you for a few weeks, I want to show you something. Come on."

He strode out of the gym and went toward a wing of the Watchtower she rarely bothered to visit. Technology was never really her thing, given she could conjure up whatever she wanted on a whim. Still, the tech lab was interesting to roam around in...she knew better than to touch anything.

Bruce was standing near a wall of gadgets, mostly Bat-shaped, that were hanging on small hooks. She briefly wondered who had the job of hanging each gadget there, and hoped it would never be her. Tedious tasks were not her forte. After reaching up and taking down a small, cylindrical device, he turned his attention back to her.

"Not that you haven't been doing well with your training, but I want you to have something else to protect yourself with." He walked closer to her...close enough that she could smell his aftershave. It was pleasant and disoriented her. Too long since you've gotten laid, Zee.

She shook her head to clear it, hoping he wouldn't notice that she had been leering at him. She wasn't oblivious to his looks, she just rarely took the time to admire them. He held the small cylinder out to her.

"Multi-purpose. If you get trapped, flip the end open, hit the button, toss it. It will send out a pulse to drop your enemy to the ground and let you escape."

"How far do I need to toss it? I don't really want to drop myself."

"It has a radius of ten feet. Make sure you aim well."

She turned it in her hand...it was barely larger than a tube of lipstick. "You said it was multi-purpose?"

"It also sends a signal here." He pointed to his wrist communicator. "I'll find you."

"Why give it to me now? You haven't worried before."

"My tech guy just finished it. I didn't want you going off to Vegas without some way to reach me."

His words made her head slightly fuzzy again, along with that damn aftershave.

"Just you?" She tried to put a teasing edge to her voice to ease the tension that she was feeling. "What if you're asleep?"

"Batman never sleeps," he deadpanned with a straight face. It was a very long moment before he finally broke a half smile and took a step back, allowing her head to clear. His eyes were still trained on her face. "Don't worry, I'll hear it. Even if I'm asleep."

"What if someone else's goes off at the same time? Sounds confusing as hell to me." You're rambling again.

"One-of-a-kind." The answer was soft, his voice taking a tone she wasn't familiar with.

Now she was really uncomfortable. She stared at the device in her hand, not sure of what she would see in his eyes if she looked up. "Why?"

"I told you. I made a promise that I intend to keep. No matter where you are."

She felt a desperate need now to break the tension, even if it only existed in her head. Holding the small beacon up, she cocked her eyebrow and grinned.

"So, you're saying if I were to drop this at your feet..."

Before she could finish, he had snatched the device back from her hand and headed toward the door.

"You can have it after we finish training tonight."

"Spoilsport," she called after him, jogging to catch up.

The rest of their practice was much the same as the others, though he did cut it a few minutes short to see to official League business. He tossed the bat-beacon (yes, she named it) to her as she got in the Zeta tube.

"See you in a few weeks," Barb had shouted as the tube buzzed to life.

As she got ready for bed, she determined that the first thing she needed to do when she got to Vegas was find a man to release her pent-up tension with. If Bruce Wayne's aftershave was affecting her that much, she was long overdue for a meaningless fling. There was no better place on Earth to find that than Sin City itself. Rich tourists, alcohol, posh hotel rooms. Her excitement swelled again. It was going to be perfect.