"Oh no you don't," Joker said quietly, his tone deadly, and Harley froze. He was still lying on the bed, the blankets pulled up to his bare shoulder blades. He was face down, one arm hanging over the edge of the mattress, his green hair mussed up as he lifted his head a bit. "Where do you think you're going, Harley?" he asked, not even turning to look at her where she'd tried to quietly slip out of the bed. Harley bit the inside of her cheek. It was the fourth day, Nightwing's patrol day.

"To see Red. She said she was gonna pull some pheromone jazz over a married dude, and I wanted to watch the drama. See who got zombified. Ya know," she lied smoothly and shrugged.

"We have something to do today," he replied calmly.

"We do?" She scrunched up her brow in confusion.

"You and I are visiting Dr. Crane this morning," he clarified. "At Arkham."

"Okay." Harley sat cross legged on the bed. "What about?"

"Need to know basis, Doll. I promise, you'll know when you need to know," he laughed quietly, staring at the wall.

"Ya always say that." Harley tipped on her side, pouting.

"Do you not trust me?" he asked, his voice still eerily low.

"Of course I do, I just wanna know," she whined.

He hesitated for a moment. "Well perhaps I could put a bit more trust in you." The Joker rolled over onto his back and then turned his head to look at her. "Crane is working on a way to- for lack of a better word- control the zombies. With more than a dog-catcher's pole and a bucket of meat," he chuckled. It was strange; here, alone with him, he seemed so… normal. It was how he'd seemed in their therapy sessions, what felt like ages ago. She had been the only one he would speak to. "We're going to go check up on him, and perhaps you can even help."

"Ooo, with what?" Harley rolled onto her stomach, kicking her legs in the air. "As long as ya don't make me hold the dog-catcher's pole, I'm game."

"Of course not. Did you have other plans for the next twenty-four hours? I do hope I'm not interrupting anything," he purred, his voice sickly sweet as he pushed her hair behind her ear, his green eyes genuinely concerned to hide the cunning underneath.

"Nope, I'm all yours," she grinned. She'd starting spending time with Nightwing because Joker and Ivy weren't available. Now the Joker wanted to spend time with her, so it should make sense that she stay. She couldn't stop a twinge of guilt and regret at not going though. It was quickly extinguished when he leaned forward and kissed her. It seemed to end just a bit too soon, and he got out of the bed, getting dressed quickly. A broken mirror hung crooked on the wall and Joker ran his hand through his hair a few times to fix it before buttoning his Arkham Asylum shirt up. He turned and beamed at her.

"Ready?" Harley finished pulling her boots on and grabbed her jacket.

"Yup."

"Terrific," he grinned, and then walked out into the main room. "Oh Nygma! Come on, you dirty little-" the zombie shot out of the corner at him, and the Joker laughed. "There you are you little rat- come on-" he scooped up the pole from its hook on the wall and went after Nygma, dodging his snapping jaws as he wrestled the wire around his neck and released him from the chain. "Time to go for a walk!" Joker sang cheerily. Harley warily stepped out of the bedroom they shared. It was across the living room from the control room, where the Joker would sometimes immerse himself for days, staying in the closet he'd turned into a makeshift room.

"Why do we have to keep him in the house?" Harley walked behind the Joker, keeping away from the zombie.

"What are you talking about, Harley? He's family! I said we all have to stick together. I just wish I could find Penguin, he got loose and ran off again. Oh well, he's either dead or a free bird now." Harley wrinkled her nose. Penguin had been pretty decayed the last time she'd seen him, she didn't want to think about what he'd be like now.

"Okay, Puddin. But he's starting to look a little rotted." They entered the elevator, and Harley pressed the button for the bottom floor.

"Who, Nygma? Sure he's a little rough-" Joker patted his head- "but we'll fix that eventually. Even if we can't stop him dying, maybe we can make him feel better."

"If his skin starts falling off, he's sleeping in the basement though." Harley stood in the corner of the cargo elevator, keeping an eye on Nygma.

"Hmm. Fair enough. Wouldn't want him to get under your skin, eh, Harley?" He chuckled, holding the pole tight as Nygma slammed himself against the elevator door frantically. The smell was overwhelming.

"Why is the cure a bad thing?" she asked, watching the zombie with revulsion.

"It'll make my job more difficult," he sighed, letting Nygma out of the elevator as they reached the ground floor. Nygma practically pulled Joker out the door, sniffing around like a hungry dog. Joker laughed. "Why would I want the Batman to win? I have Uptown under my own control, for the most part- when I take the rest of Gotham, I'll go after him." He grinned down at the sidewalk.

"But-" Harley cut herself off before continuing. "If everyone's a zombie, will it matter if ya have control 'a Gotham?"

"Nope," he said cheerily. "What will matter is that Batman will have lost."

"So you wanna control the zombies instead of curing 'em. Got it. Just please don't turn any 'a my friends into zombies," she begged.

"Friends?" he asked lightly, glancing at her, a gleam in his eyes. "Anyone specific you have in mind? I know that Ivy is immune, so I can't imagine who you're talking about."

"Well Harvey was my friend before he got himself taken," she ticked off on her fingers, "and once upon a time Crane was fun before he turned all grumpy." She wanted to say Nightwing, but she wasn't quite sure. She was still going to keep seeing him in case she could learn something that would help Joker, but part of her wondered if she'd keep going anyway. "And if we ever find out what happened to Catwoman."

"You don't know?" He grinned slyly. "She's the Bat's personal house pet now."

"What?" Harley spun and stared at him. "Cat's in Gotham?"

"Has been since the beginning. She had to choose sides, and she chose wrong," Joker looked at her. As they walked through the streets, the residents cowered and hid in the shadows, disappearing into buildings and hiding from their rulers.

"Ya knew?!" she cried, her eyes hurt. "Ya knew the whole time and didn't tell me?"

"Honestly dear, I thought you smarter than that," he rolled his eyes. "Don't make such a big fuss over the Cat, she's dead by now anyway."

"Don't say that." She pouted, crossing her arms.

"Why not? I killed her."

"What?" Harley gasped, her mouth hanging open as her arms dropped to her sides. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at her, Nygma pulling him along on his makeshift leash.

"Catwoman- Selina Kyle- is dead. Or at least, she's undead."

"Why?" Harley demanded, her eyes watering. "Why would ya do that?"

He scrutinized her for a moment, his jaw tightening. The Joker stopped in his tracks and grabbed her arm, pulling her roughly around to look at him.

"She's a defector. A traitor," he snapped. "Think. Think very hard in that fool brain of yours about how many times the Batman has hurt us. Me. You. Your friends. Beaten us within an inch of our lives and dumped us on Arkham's front doorstep. He's the enemy, Doll, and this is war," Joker glared at her, his brows pulled low over his eyes in a menacing stare. "She betrayed us; I was doing her a favor by taking her out."

"She went with the man she loved," Harley argued. "That's not betraying us. I did the same thing for you," she reminded him, furiously wiping her tears away.

"And they've tried to cage you and kill you for it ever since," he hissed. "Come now, Harley, it's not so bad as you think. You've still got Ivy. And Crane, and me."

"Yeah but I woulda liked to see her," she mumbled dejectedly.

"Chin up, Harley," he cupped a hand under her chin and smiled. "Haven't I told you you've got no reasons to frown? Now come on, we're going to be late and Dr. Crane won't like that." Harley jumped when Nygma snapped at her and followed the Joker.

Joker walked on, whistling the tune of a song that Harley remembered, but couldn't recall the name of. He occasionally let Nygma go a bit to chase away passersby who were bold enough to be out on the streets where they walked, and when he reeled his zombie in away from the terrified pedestrian he would laugh happily and continue on. They finally crossed the small bridge connecting Arkham Island to the rest of the city, walking towards the half crumbling structure that was once Arkham Asylum.

"Ya know, this place was always creepy," Harley mused. "An apocalypse has not helped things."

"No it has not," he agreed. "At least there's not a doctor in sight." He glanced over his shoulder at her and did a double take, bursting into laughter. "Sorry, Dr. Quinzel, didn't see you there," he grinned.

"Well I'm trying to blend in," she teased. "Can't ya tell?" She held out her arms. She was wearing her black and red leather jacket over her black and red tanktop and shorts. A good portion of her stomach was exposed and the shorts were too short, but she liked it that way.

He glanced at her and smiled again, leading her with his zombie to the front doors. Their footsteps echoing in the large atrium. The windows in the ceiling had long since broken away, the shards of glass sparkling on the dirty marble floor. The Joker led her down a hall and up a flight of dark stairs. The interior of the building was as eerie as the exterior, dark and damp from the spring rain. Continuing down the bland halls, decorated now with dirt and leaves that had blown in through broken windows during countless storms, Harley and the Joker finally came to a door with CELL BLOCK A stenciled across it, and the Joker shoved his shoulder against it to force it open. Nygma scrambled out onto the balcony where it led.

"Crane is probably in the surveillance room, Harley, would you go say hello? I'm going to let Edward loose to play with the others," he laughed, following the zombie to the stairs and forcing him down, closing the gate behind him.

When Harley entered the Block A surveillance room, Jonathan Crane looked up at her curiously. "And where is he?" he asked after a moment's hesitation. She opened her mouth to respond but the Joker squeezed in the door behind her and closed it tight.

"Releasing Nygma for some exercise," he laughed. "So, doctor, how are we today?" Joker asked, sauntering over to the other man and surreptitiously glancing at the notes taken on old pieces of newspaper in heavy black ink. Crane listlessly put his hands in his pockets and allowed Joker to look them over.

"How ya been Jonathan?" Harley asked, plopping down on a chair. "I never see ya around anymore."

"Only when I'm needed," he agreed with her, glancing up. He looked tired and listless, a dirty lab coat draped over his thin shoulders. It was stained at the cuffs and the hem with dried blood, and there were various instruments in the left pocket. The right had torn clean off, leaving a perfectly white patch on the coat where it'd been.

"So how's it goin' with the walkin' corpses?" Harley put her elbows on a table, leaning forward and grinning.

"How do you think, Harleykins? I'm a psychologist and a chemist, not a biologist or a doctor. I don't know how to-" he cut off promptly as Joker turned around, and Crane was relieved to see that the Joker hadn't heard him, lost in reading Crane's notes.

"Looks to me like you've got near to nil, eh, Scarecrow?" he laughed, but there was a deadly tone to it.

"Other than our most recent… tests… no. Look, it's the same information you had before, okay? What these things are capable of, how they behave, what their habits are- they're animalistic. I don't know what you expect me to do," he said flatly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his lab coat so hard that Harley heard the seam pop on the one still attached. His other hand searched for a place to go before giving up, unable to find the missing pocket.

"Do they mate?" Harley asked. Both men turned to stare at her, and she sat up. "What?! You said they're animalistic."

"Um… no, not that I'm aware of," Crane cocked his head a bit, his light eyes flashing as he shot her a 'thank you' glance and then moved to his desk to look at his notes again. He rubbed his eyes in the darkened room. "Their only motivation is fresh meat. Which again, makes no sense, because they don't need it to survive. They feed on humans because it's their only instinct. And I mean only instinct. Their brains still motivate them, and we know that the brain is the only way to stop them, via decapitation or a head wound-" Crane ran a hand through his already tangled and messy black hair. "But it's nearly impossible to control. I've been trying, with various toxins and chemicals- but most of their brains are mush. There's nothing left but that one instinct." He sighed slowly, his eyelids half closed over his eyes in a perpetual state of irritation and exhaustion. The Joker thought about this for a moment, tapping his foot on the floor.

"Ooo, cool." Harley got up and went to the glass window that overlooked the cell block. The zombies were all gathered as close to the wall below them as they could get. "Massive frontal lobe degradacion I bet. I mean, reduced past carnal desires ta pure bloodlust." She sounded fascinated by the thought. "And I guess that explains the creepy attracted ta humans thing. Their animalistic impulses lead them to the largest gatherin' a blood." The Infected were always drawn to the largest group of people. Three people was a large enough group to draw a horde from miles away. "Some subconscious instinct we're not aware of that leads the predator to their prey." She turned around, grinning at Crane. "Gross." She wrinkled her nose. "But how are their brains even still workin'? I mean they're dead. No oxygen to the brain equals-" she put her hands around her neck and stuck her tongue out- "they shouldn't be walkin' much less instincualizing or whatever."

"Yeah, well, I've learned other things," he sighed. "They're not technically dead. Their blood is so thick that it barely moves, but they're still alive."

"Aww!" Harley whined. "So they're not really 'undead', they're just barely alive. That's dull." She pouted. "Some 'zombie' apocalypse."

"We already have all of this information. Can't you come up with anything new, Crane? It's all the same," Joker snapped, glancing between Harley and Scarecrow.

"Sorry Puddin." Harley moved over by him and smiled tentatively. "But he's learned a lot considering he's just got candles, newspapers, and chewing gum."

"That's all I have. There are other things too- I mean, I cut their eyes out and they still follow me around the balcony like they can sense me- they don't need them. And…" Crane sifted through his notes for the third time and Joker finally snapped, grabbing the collar of his lab coat and slamming him against the wall.

"Can't you understand that that isn't enough?" he purred, sickly sweet as he grinned. "You're boring me, Crane. What good is a Scarecrow that can't do it's job?"

"Joker, I don't have the supplies-" he was cut off when a silver blade pressed to his stomach. Crane closed his eyes and pressed his lips together.

"Please don't!" Harley pleaded, putting her hand on the Joker's shoulder. "Just give him some more time. He's trying."

"I know he's trying. He just needs a little motivation," he grinned wider, but stepped back from Crane. Scarecrow released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"I don't have the equipment. I haven't gone through the other wing of the Asylum. There may be more I can use there, and I have a couple of new experiments lined up, but I need more time."

The Joker laughed quietly, but said nothing.

"Puddin please," Harley begged, putting her other hand on his arm. "Who else is gonna be able to look for a way to control 'em if you kill him?"

"You seem to be perfectly capable, Dr. Quinzel," he spat as he turned, narrowed eyes fixed on her. Harley recoiled, pulling her hands back.

"I-I just wanna know more about 'em," she stumbled over her words. "Nygma's livin' with us, and I didn't even know if I needed to find him a girlfriend." She smiled hopefully. Joker stared at her for a moment, caught between anger and amusement. He finally settled on the latter, bursting into laughter.

"Oh, Harley," he shook his head, ruffling her hair. "You've got such a penchant for pairing things off I could easily mistake you for Two-Face."

"Well everybody needs somebody." She shrugged and beamed at him.

"I suppose you're right. Crane-" the Scarecrow looked up when he heard his name- "keep up the… mediocre work." Joker narrowed his eyes. "Just remember what's riding on this, eh?" he hissed, and Crane nodded once, his eyes still half closed lazily. Harley opened her mouth to suggest something to him before snapping it closed and glancing at the Joker.

"Is there anythin' else, Mistah J?"

"We're done here," he answered, turning back towards the door and leaving abruptly.

"Quite the charmer," Crane muttered, rubbing his arm as he watched Harley. "Well, run along."

"Good luck, Crane." She smiled and waved before heading to the door. The Joker had already reached the end of the long walkway, his purple coat standing out in the grim industrial surroundings. He waved a hand without turning back.

"Grab Nygma for me, Doll," he said calmly, and then disappeared down the hall back the way they came. Harley glanced down at the crowd of zombies and back to where the Joker had disappeared. She wrinkled her nose before walking over to the grate covering the stairs. She swatted one of the hands that was reaching its fingers up through the grate as she searched for Nygma. He was toward the center of the pile clumped at the bottom of the stairs.

"Well that's just peachy," she muttered to herself. She looked around and saw the dog catcher's pole. She grabbed it, still talking to herself. "And to think, I wanted ta find you a girlfriend." She pointed the pole at Nygma where he was smashed between two decaying old ladies. "Last time I do anything nice for you. You can find your own dinner from now on." She stomped on the fingers poking up through the grate as she mulled over what to do. "You're more trouble than you're worth. Maybe I should leave ya here and let Crane cut you open to see how ya tick," she threatened. The zombies in the front were knocked over as the crowd behind them pushed forward. "You're right," she sighed. "I've gotten used to the way you stink up the place. Fine," she groaned. "But no growling at the guests anymore." She took a deep steadying breath like she was going to dive underwater, paused with her cheeks puffed out as she grinned, and huffed it out as she unlatched the gate.

The stars were just beginning to come out over Gotham, and Dick walked past the Arkham City entrance for the third time. She hadn't shown up all day. They'd only spoken three times, but for some reason... He missed her. Harley's constant chatting made patrol a little more bearable, and he would have been grateful for it tonight; there had been minimal action and no disturbances all day, and the calm had continued into the night thus far. He hoped he hadn't scared her off when they were last together. He still thought about it, and every time he did he blushed. It was wrong and he knew it, yet... he didn't want to stop. "Ugh, where is she?" Dick muttered irritably, and then jumped when Damian spoke behind him.

"Where is who?" he asked quietly. Dick turned; Damian's eyes were narrowed behind his mask.

"Cassiopeia," Dick said lamely, biting his lip. Damian stared at him for a moment longer before looking up.

"Well first of all, it's a Northern constellation. You're looking South," he pointed up at the stars, and Dick smiled. "We should get out of here. Arkham City doesn't exactly have the most welcoming residents, eh, Nightwing?" he asked, smirking. He didn't wait for Dick as he turned away and began walking East, further into Uptown Gotham.

"God," Steph complained over the comms, "you two losers have been so boring all day. At least with Blackbat or Batwoman I expect them to be dull, but I just cannot wait for sunrise."

"Yeah, that'll be a welcome change of pace," Damian sighed. Dick knew the truth; he had city patrol with his father next, and he was always eager for their time together.

"How are you, Spoiler?" Dick went on conversationally, walking beside Damian. The boy picked a human femur bone up off of the ground and flung it ahead of them, sending his dog chasing after it.

"Bored," she muttered. "You're being Debbie Downer and it's a major buzz kill."

"I'm being Debbie Downer? I'm in a perfectly good mood!" Dick defended himself, laughing. Damian smiled as Titus raced back with the bone, wagging his tail.

"The first conversation I heard in an hour was about a constellation. If that isn't the definition of boring, Damian's dog can have my place on the team." They weren't really supposed to use the comms for chatting; they were they for emergencies and patrol related information. None of them followed that rule too closely, especially Steph.

"We all know Titus would be able to do your job and more, he's twice as good. And he's quiet, too," Damian laughed a little, throwing the bone again. Dick chuckled.

"You cut me deep," Steph said sarcastically. "I hope you and Titus are very happy together. Especially since him licking your face is the closest you're going to come to being kissed."

"After watching you and Red Robin demonstrate, I think I'm alright with that," Damian muttered, waiting for Titus to come back.

"Hey, at least we're not Bruce and Selina," she defended.

"Don't knock Batman and Catwoman, guys," Dick shook his head, laughing. "And leave Red Robin and Spoiler alone. We've gotta be happy with what we've got, right?" he elbowed Damian. "Even if we are single," he laughed. Damian ignored him and whistled shortly, his brow furrowing under his mask as he quickened his pace, hurrying into the darkness where Titus had disappeared. Dick followed him as he broke into a run. Titus barked viciously at the docks, and Damian skidded to a stop, looking down at the water. "What is it?" Dick asked. Titus whined, and Damian knelt in front of him.

"Don't know. What's gotten into you?" he muttered, holding onto the dog's collar. Dick laughed and knelt to pull the bone out of the water.

"Here you go," he smiled, dropping it on the damp surface of the dock. Titus ignored it, breaking into ferocious barks again, this time facing the direction they'd come. Dick and Damian glanced at each other, and Damian promptly let his collar go.

Titus sprinted off into the dark and they followed, staying a few feet behind the dog. He stopped to sniff the ground for a moment before racing down an alley and into the next street, where he began barking as he ran. Dick could see two figures in the dark, running away from the monstrous dog chasing them.

"Damian, try to catch up- I'm going to hit the roofs to head them off-" Dick sprinted forward and fired a grappling hook into the building beside him. He was yanked upward and flipped onto the roof, continuing down the street. Quickly overtaking them, he dropped onto the street ahead, just as Titus caught the snarling zombie by its arm.

"Infected, Robin!" Dick called as he caught up. Running away!?

The second Infected surged forward again, knocking Dick down as it ran past. He turned and watched it go, and then covered his head as the other one ran past as well; its arm hung from Titus's jaws. Damian caught the dog's collar again and stared down the street in shock.

"They were… running away from us," Dick said in confusion, standing slowly.

"What?!" Steph cried. "Don't tell me I missed the only cool thing all evening!"

"It's like they were… I don't know," he shook his head slowly. Glancing back over his shoulder, Dick smiled. "But maybe we can find out." He knelt in front of Titus. "Drop it," he commanded, and the dog released the zombie arm onto the street, wagging his tail. Damian scratched his ear as Dick took a few samples. "Alright, we have some samples here, I can-"

"-Nope," Damian cut him off. "You and Steph have got to battle it out. You shirked your duties last time to go flirt with Barbara in the labs, now it's Steph's turn. Let her take the samples back to Tim."

"Haha!" Steph taunted, leaping off the building above them and catching herself on the fire escape. "Suck it."

"Damian you little- I thought you were on my side," Dick muttered, handing over the samples to Steph. Damian flashed him a smile.

"Spoiler, head in. Nightwing- get back to work," he ordered, and then turned and ran off into the night. Dick scoffed.

"Why did that sound exactly like Batman?" He rolled his eyes and smiled. "Say hi to Tim for me."

"I'll tell Babs you wanted to stay out here rather than see her." She laughed before giving him a mock salute and running off. She tucked the samples into her utility belt as she ran and pulled the hood of her Spoiler costume further over her head. It wasn't long before she reached the bridge, waving at the guards she passed, who paid her no attention. Her bike was parked next to Nightwing's, and she kicked it into gear as soon as she was seated. Her break was as soon as her Arkham shift was over, so the sooner she got the samples to the lab, the earlier she could start it. She desperately wanted a hot bath and to wash her uniform.

Steph pulled into the Wayne Tower garage and parked on her designated spot. Why does Jason get the spot closest to the door? she grumbled to herself. She hurried to the elevator, hit the button for the lab floor Tim was on, and waited. The labs were one of the few places that could feel like they were bustling with energy, and when the elevator doors opened, it seemed like people were going everywhere.

Stepping out, Steph tried to weave her way over to Tim's desk. It's the freaking night shift, she thought when someone hurried right across her path, go to bed you nerds. She finally reached Tim's desk and set the samples directly on top of what he was working on.

"Batgirl, I said that I'd do the Type B samples in a minute," he huffed and glanced up, doing a double take. "Oh, Spoiler. Hi. What are you- What are these?" he picked up one of the samples, turning it over in his hand.

"Some flesh eaters ran away from Nightwing and Robin instead of toward. They thought you would like to have these." She perched on the edge of his desk. Tim shook his head slowly.

"Ran away? Ok. Great, um…" he looked up at her. "Are you serious?"

"Well I personally didn't see it, but I don't think Nightwing is pranking you." She glared at the top of his head as he examined the samples. First time you see me in days and you're more interested in zombie blood than your girlfriend. Maybe if I ran in the other direction you'd think that was serious.

"Ok," he shrugged and stretched, walking away from his desk. Steph watched him walk to Barbara and start talking. She threw her hands up in the air. Why do I even bother? She stood up and headed to the door, smiling good naturedly at a scientist who looked at her curiously before blushing when she realized the lady couldn't see it behind her mask, and then was thankful she wouldn't see the blush either.

"Steph wait up!" Tim called. He glanced over his shoulder as he joined her. "Thanks, Batgirl."

"You owe me one," she assured him, and he turned back to Stephanie.

"You were just gonna leave me?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck as he smiled a little.

"Hey, you seemed busy, and you're the stickler on the no names in costume thing," she reminded him.

"I... What?" He paused. "Oh. Sorry, I just- it's been awhile since I've slept. Barbara had to save me from a near contamination breach today when I nodded off and almost fell in my Petri dish." Steph snorted.

"You always overwork yourself. When was the last time you ate… or slept… or showered?"

"Um…" he thought for a minute and his brow furrowed. "Why didn't Dick come in from patrol? Did he send you?" Tim asked curiously, pushing the lab doors open. They closed behind them and locked again.

"Nah, Damian sided with me, so they're both stuck out there till sunrise." She laughed. "I think he wanted to fight me for the right to come in early."

"Yeah he and Barbara have apparently been getting a little friendly again. I mean, I think because Barbara talks while she works and I tune everything out. From the little bits that got through they might be rekindling whatever they had together," he shrugged, looking ahead tiredly as he walked to the elevator and waited for it to come to their floor. When the doors opened they got on and Tim punched the button to the executive floors, where their rooms where.

"That'd be fun, or disastrous, both sound good to me. Now we just have to get Jason and Damian paired off." She leaned back and put her hands behind her head. "What about Jay and Cass?"

"That much anger and frustration and angst can barely stay in the same room for long, much less share a bed," Tim chuckled. The elevator doors slid open again and they went out into the hall.

"I don't know. They kind of have the whole 'too mad at my dad and punching things to notice you' thing going, and I doubt the bed thing. I can't imagine they'd be bad." She shrugged.

"I'm not saying bad, just probably… severely wounded." Tim pushed his bedroom door open. He started to close it behind him, but he remembered that he had Steph with him and then left it open for her, pulling his cowl off. His dark hair was stuck down to his head, and he ran his hand through his hair to loosen it as he yawned.

"Okay, no. None of this tiredness crap." Steph waved her hand at him and flicked her hood off. "I had two plans with my extra time while you ignored me and fell asleep in petri dishes: laundry and shower. Now you're here all not ignoring me and tired, but I still smell like three day old sweat. And so do you." She pulled the top of her Spoiler costume off. "Give me the costume, Boy Wonder. I am doing laundry."

"Steph-" Tim's cheeks went red in surprise. "Um, do you want a- I have clean t-shirts," he stuttered, turning to the desk in the room and digging around in the pile of clean clothes beside it. He turned back to her and held out a college tee. His ears had turned pink as well. She'd already taken the bottom of her suit off and was standing there in her underwear as she gathered the pile of clothes up in her arms.

"Costume. Now," she told him, going and dumping her uniform into the washer that was in his bathroom. The plumbing of the tower had been reworked to make sure everyone had showering and washing capabilities. There were some exposed pipes, but everything worked fine. "Seriously," she called from the bathroom, "I will start the wash without you clothes in it!"

"Okay okay okay," he muttered, tugging his cape and his tunic over his head and then taking his pants off. When Stephanie returned to get them, he stood there in his boxer briefs looking like an abandoned puppy, his cheeks still bright red.

"Thank you." She kissed his burning cheek as she took his clothes and returned to the bathroom. She peeked her head out with a mischievous smile. "Boxers too."

"Stephie!" he cried in protest, nearly whining like a child. He rubbed his arms and pulled on the shirt in his hands, sitting down on the bed as he glared at her across the room. She winked before ducking back into the bathroom. He could hear hear pressing the buttons on the washer and the cycle starting.

"There. One thing down." She walked back into the room and pulled a lock of her hair in front of her nose and sniffed. "But I still stink." Tim had dropped back to lay on the bed, his eyes closed and his arms over his face.

"Bath?" he muttered, smiling a little.

"That depends." She grinned. Yesyesyesyes, she mentally chanted. A thousand times yes.

"Depends on what?" he took his arms away from his face and smiled at her, pushing himself up on his elbows.

"On if you help." She pushed her hair back over her shoulder as she leaned over him, still grinning. "But I know how tired you are."

"Did you hear me say plural 'baths'?" he laughed. "But I guess if there's an option where you get un-smelly and I get to sleep, then that one's a win." Steph resisted the urge to frown. Boooooooo.

"Well there is an option for that." She flipped over him and sprawled out across his bed. "But that involves me going over to my room to take a hot shower, put on pajamas and fuzzy socks, and hibernate for a day." She tilted her head back and smiled at him. "So is that really a win for you?"

Tim pursed his lips. "Do you want the honest answer or no?" he chuckled nervously. Steph leaned her head back forward so he couldn't see her face. After a second, she sat back up.

"Okay, so," she gave him a kiss on the cheek, "get some sleep." She crawled back over him and off the bed. "I'll be back to move the laundry," she reminded him before flashing him one last smile. "I'll try and grab lunch with you or something before I head back out on patrol."

"What? Stephie, I…" he got up quickly and grabbed her hand before she could leave. "It was a joke. I was going to say that you smell fine, and that the honest answer was no, and…" Tim sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down. "I just miss you, Stephanie. Even if we take a bath or just lie here or… I just want to spend time with you."

"Well you need to sleep. You're going to overwork yourself to death." She poked him in the chest. "And if you fall asleep in the lab, I don't know if I can handle a boyfriend with a bacteria colony on his face."

"I know. We have plenty of time to sleep. Just… together," Tim smiled. Their fingers laced together as he rested his forehead against hers.

"For the record, if you hadn't stopped me from walking out the door, you would've been eating lunch alone." She patted his head. "Good boyfriend."

"Oh did I finally do something right for a change?" he laughed.

"You do things right you're just… busy." She shrugged. She was used to it; his work came first.

"Really? Because I think not having time for you is kind of wrong. There's nothing I can do to help it, of course, but it is. I mean, Bruce gets to be with Selina, Dick and Barbara have whatever they're doing, and you… shouldn't have to be left out of that. So let me do something right," Tim smiled gently and tipped back, falling onto the bed with Stephanie in his arms.

"How long did it take for me to learn your name in our relationship?" She laughed. "I can be patient." She kissed his nose.

"And I thank God for your patience every day," he laughed and their lips met. He kissed her slowly before pulling back a bit. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he chuckled.

"Smell like three day old sweat," she assured him before grabbing his face and kissing him. Tim's exclamation of surprise was muffled by her lips against his, and he kissed her back, taking a deep breath.

"You smell fine," he muttered against her lips, kissing her again.

"You're obligated to say that, so I'll keep doing your laundry," she countered. "I can't trust your word," she mumbled.

Tim laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight as they kissed. He broke away again, smiling. "See I told you. We have the rest of tonight, and tomorrow, and the next night. I won't work if you promise not to," he kissed her cheek gently, still holding her against him.

"But I had so many plans!" she joked. "With my pajamas, and fuzzy socks, and the popcorn I have stashed away."

Tim smiled and pushed some of her hair out of her face. "Well you can still do that, just so long as you don't mind me tagging along. Though I don't think I'll look very good in your pajamas."

"That's okay." She kissed his neck just below his ear. "I'm good in yours," she whispered. Tim smiled, his cheeks turning a bit pink again as he closed his eyes.

"I love you, Stephie," he said quietly. One hand slid into her hair and the other held her close by her waist. She leaned up and smiled.

"I love you too." She gave him a quick kiss. Tim smiled back and kissed her gently. The washing machine beeped in the bathroom, and Stephanie got up to toss their uniforms in the dryer; when she returned to the bed, Tim was half asleep on the pillows. She crawled under the covers and kissed him on the cheek.

"Okay, but in the morning, bath."

"Morning…" he repeated her before yawning. It wasn't that he never had time to sleep, it was that he could never relax to do so. With her there, his anxiety seemed to curb for the moment, and he was suddenly exhausted. Tim smiled and kissed her sleepily. Steph rolled her eyes and smiled. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, letting the slow rhythm of his breathing put her to sleep.