He'd dreamt about Harley.

It'd been Barbara's kiss lingering on his skin when he'd closed his eyes, but it was Harley's touch in dreaming. He'd awoken with a start, as the dream had started pleasantly, but ended in the same nightmares again; always the same nightmares. He and Harley were together, gasping; her kiss burned his skin but all he'd wanted was more; as they'd grown more passionate, her moans had turned to screams, her touch searing his flesh, and Dick had jolted awake in a panic; flashes of the years before in his mind. And the blonde woman. A quick smile and the soft tumble of blonde hair over his face, glasses shining in the sun and a laugh echoing through the haze of his dreaming.

Dick shook off the chill that the recalled images brought with them, firing his grappling hook around a light pole and rocketing upward to perch on it. It was windy, another spring storm blowing in from the mainland, and he scanned the horizon. Empty and gray. The sun had risen on his patrol day, and after he'd slept and cleaned himself up, he'd been ready to take on his work. Dick rubbed the shoulder where his graze wound was, and then flipped off of the light pole back to the street. He scaled the wall of the wharf warehouse beside him to check the security camera; no evidence of tampering or damage.

"Everything seems to be ship-shape in northwestern Uptown Gotham," he reported into his comm. When Robin didn't respond, Nightwing could only assume that he was listening to his music again. Dick turned and began walking east along the docks; the sound of the cold wind whipping off of the water rushed in his ears and the chill bit through his jacket. He zipped it up, stopping to look down at the waves breaking against the rocks below. He smiled a little. A cannery building loomed behind him, with a smaller ship repair yard beside it. Dick chuckled to himself. "'Ship'-shape," he smiled, looking up at the clouds. Everything was quiet and peaceful- until Dick felt teeth on his neck, panic and pain suddenly flooding his mind as something bit him.

He cried out and turned, slamming the zombie against the wall as the sharp prongs of the taser shot out of the end of his escrima stick- and it was just before they made contact with it's face that he realized he recognized who it was. Who she was.

In fact, she wasn't a zombie at all, grinning up at him and cackling happily.

"Harley!?" Dick cried, his elbow pressed across her shoulders, holding her against the wall. He was too shocked to move, the escrima stick frozen inches from her face. "What the hell!? I could've killed you!"

"You shoulda seen the look on your face," she gasped between peals of laughter.

"You have a sick sense of humor, Harley, that wasn't funny," he pressed, releasing her from the wall and putting the escrima stick away. His heart was racing from the shock, and he took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair.

"It was pretty funny." She giggled herself to a stop. "Are ya mad at me?"

Dick glanced at her and rolled his eyes. "No. You just scared me. I mean, come on. I could have seriously hurt you, did you even think of that?"

"A little. I knew it was a bad idea," she shrugged, grinning, "but I still wanted ta do it."

"That's what gets you into trouble, you know," he raised an eyebrow. She gave him a sly smile and leaned against his chest. She looked up at him through her bangs that were let down to frame her face, batting her eyelashes slowly at him.

"Would ya believe me if I said I was sorry?" she asked sweetly, running her hand up his chest and up to his neck.

Dick straightened up a bit, inhaling sharply. "Probably not, actually. You were laughing way too much to be remorseful at all." The corner of his lips turned up a bit. She stood on tiptoe.

"Well I'm sorry," she breathed, her lips next to his ear. Dick closed his eyes, his lips parting ever so slightly as he smiled.

"Definitely not sorry," he laughed, his hands moving to her hips.

"Ya won't forgive me?" she asked. She leaned back but moved her hips forward against his and pouted as she hung onto his shoulders.

"Of course I will," Dick grinned. He couldn't believe how quickly her presence could make him forget about everything. He wanted to neglect his duties. He wanted to run away with her.

"Good cuz I'd hate for ya to be mad at me." Harley smirked "But I don't think you are." She leaned forward again, her lips brushing his. "Unless that's a wingding in your pocket," she whispered.

"Well the only one I had left I lost, so I guess that means you're right," he groaned, his lips chasing hers. He pulled their hips together, his thumbs hooking in her shorts at the base of her spine, tracing over the waistband of her underwear. She leaned her face away, grinning.

"Then I guess that means good news for me." Her fingers lazily trailed up his neck and into his hair.

"I guess it does, doesn't it?" he breathed, licking his lips anxiously and brushing her bangs away from her face. His lips had barely met hers when he pulled back suddenly, again pushing her hair out of the way. A fading bruise was on her cheek, and Dick's face twisted in anger. "Harley what is this?" he demanded, cupping a hand delicately under her chin and turning her face so he could see the bruises better.

"It's nothing," she mumbled, turning her face away and out of his hand.

"It doesn't look like nothing," he said gravely, again taking her face in his hands. Dick hesitated, and then made her look at him. "Harley did he do this to you?" She stepped back away from him, looking down at her feet.

"I told ya it was nothing. Just let it go." She nervously pulled her bangs back in front of her face. Dick's jaw tightened and he stepped forward purposefully, taking her face in his hands again, making her look up at him, and then he kissed her passionately. Harley gasped in surprise. Her hands reached up and held onto his jacket as she pinched her eyes closed. As his fervor calmed and his lips fell away from hers, Dick stroked a thumb over the bruise on her face.

"I'm here for you," he whispered gently. "If he lays a hand on you again, I'll kill him."

Harley shook her head. "No," she sniffled a little, "no it was my fault."

"Harley. I may not have been there, but I promise you this- it was not your fault." A victim, he thought. "Why did he hit you?" Just another victim of the Joker, like the rest of us.

"It was because he was worried about me," Harley defended him, "when I didn't come home." She stared at Dick's chest as she talked. "He didn't mean ta; he just lost control, that's all. It was my fault. He didn't know where I was, an' I wasn't supposed ta be in Uptown, an' I…" She paused and glanced up at him before looking back down "... I wasn't supposed ta be with you." Dick inhaled sharply, his face going pale.

"This…" he traced the bruise on her face, his touch so gentle she could barely feel it. "...This isn't my fault, and it isn't your fault," he assured them both. "He isn't allowed to do these kinds of things, Harley. Not even him," he breathed. Dick pressed his lips to her forehead. "Things like that aren't supposed to happen to anyone, and especially not to a girl as sweet as you," he told her, and then looked in her eyes. "Does he… Did you tell him about me?" She shook her head.

"But I think he knows," she breathed, her eyes wide.

Dick bit his lip, thinking for a minute. "We can't do this anymore. Not if he hurts you like that." It could get her killed. "It's too dangerous." He finally shook his head slowly, pulling her closer by his hand still cradling her face. He nosed his way to her lips and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Don't. His lips fell away from hers. It's too dangerous… but I don't want to stop.

"We just can't meet by the wall anymore," Harley pleaded, her eyes watering. "I don't wanna lose you as a friend. Even if we can't…" She tucked her hands into her chest. "But if you don't wanna see me anymore-"

"-No. I mean..." Dick smiled a little, sighing quietly. "I was hoping you'd say that. I don't want to lose you, either." He took her hands, kissing her fingers.

"Okay." She gave him a watery smile before glancing back toward the wall even though they couldn't see it from where they were. I made him so worried last time an' I'm out here again. She looked back down. But I don't mean ta hurt him… I just… She looked back up at Dick. He smiled gently, his forefinger under her chin guiding her lips to his, soft and deliberate.

"I think I have an idea," he said once the kiss had finished, pulling away and smiling.

"Is it a fun idea?" she asked as she smiled back.

"I hope so. What if we found a place… far away from the Arkham City walls, overlooking the ocean, maybe; that could serve as our… home away from homes," he suggested. Dick was still hesitant of his words even as he spoke them.

"Are ya suggestin' we make a secret hideout?" She grinned. Dick laughed.

"I guess you could call it that."

"I'm game." She bounced up and down a little. Her eyelashes were still wet, but she looked more excited than sad now. "We definitely hafta decorate it."

He smiled. "Hold your horses, though, cutie. We still have to find a good spot. I'm thinking what used to be the expensive apartment buildings and hotels a couple of blocks to the east," he pointed, and she could see the skyscrapers looming against the dark sky.

"It has ta be high enough we can look over everything, but I don't have one 'a those grappling hooks and stairs are brutal, so not too high." She grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction he'd indicated.

"I'll get you one. Batman won't miss it, I hope; we have plenty of extras. It will be safer if we bar the doors and enter through the windows- that way no Infected can get in without us knowing…" He thought out loud, his hand in hers as they walked.

"Ooo we should go to a furniture store and get a bunch 'a pillows and blankets to make a fort," she told him. "And I want a coffee table. Is that weird? We're getting one." She dragged him along in her excitement. "An' I saw this cute lamp at Hobby Lobby one time. We don't have power, but I think it'd still look cute." Dick smiled after her.

"Whatever you want." He looked around as they reached the towering buildings. "So where do you want to look first?"

"Umm," she glanced around at all the buildings. "That one." She pointed at a sleek skyscraper that had been an expensive hotel. It had the largest windows and balconies.

"All right," Dick laughed. They walked to the building and he looked up, gauging where he ought to fire his grappling hook. Dick pulled out his escrima stick and aimed, wrapping his arm around Harley's waist before firing the grappling hook out of the end. Dick grit his teeth against the pain in his hurt shoulder as they launched upward and landed safely on the wide balcony. Harley giggled, her chin against his shoulder.

"That's still really hot by the way," she grinned. Dick laughed a little, his hand slipping into hers as he walked to the balcony doors; when he tried the handle it gave, and he smiled, leading her into the dark rooms.

"Candles. We'll need candles..." He looked around. The dim room was lavishly decorated, everything still in its pristine, proper place. It was as if it was waiting for its next guest. In the immediate room was a decorative glass table and a round vase of long dead flowers, dry and hanging dejectedly from their pot. It was a sort of foyer or entrance room, and directly across from the balcony doors were the double doors to the suite. Dick walked to them and made sure the handles were still locked, and he pushed the table up against them for good measure. Another set of metal double doors, presumably leading to a bedroom, were on the left, and a matching set to the right opened into a wide living room furnished with modern looking couches and chairs; a glass coffee table rested under a layer of dust between them, in front of a sleek metal fireplace. Windows on either side of it were covered by thick drapes, and the kitchenette was dark on the far wall, a glass dining table near it. The carpet was soft and thick, everything sickeningly white and gray with brushed metal. It was a suite fit for the richest of the rich, now all dead, that used to come to Gotham. Dick whistled, impressed.

"I can see why I've never stayed here." Harley dropped to the ground and started make snow angels in the carpet. "This carpet is worth more than I am."

"Oh I don't think so," Dick laughed at the cloud of dust she was kicking up. He strolled away, checking through the rooms to look for any Infected victims. A bathroom with one wall lined with floor to ceiling mirrors, a massive bed in the bedroom with white bedding and a metal headboard… Each room had a doorway out to the long balcony overlooking the water. Dick returned to the living room, glancing at the kitchenette and bar and putting his hands in his pockets. "Did you want to search anywhere else?"

"I dunno." She sat up and sneezed. "Wherever we end up staying, we're gonna need ta vacuum and dust." She sneezed again.

"You tell me how to do that without a vacuum," he laughed, smiling down at her. Dick took a deep breath and looked around. "I like it. Small enough to be comfortable, but big enough to be spacious- and sealed tight. One door in or out, high up, inconspicuous, no other surrounding buildings..." He nodded.

"We should go ta Wal-Mart and get one of those battery powered vacuums," she muttered as she pinched her nose to hold back a sneeze, watching the cloud of dust settle back around her. "They have a little charge ta taunt ya with when you buy 'em before they gotta charge right?" She looked up at him before suddenly squealing. "We forgot ta check if the view was good!" She jumped up and ran over to the windows on either side of the fireplace, yanking the curtains back. The gray sky seemed to blend straight into the water on the horizon, other skyscrapers outside of the windows framing the dismally colored backdrop. Dick stepped behind her and put his hands on his hips.

"Is that view acceptable, your highness?" Harley turned and grinned at him before scampering in the bedroom to see that view.

"It never ends!" she cried. She flung open the balcony doors and skipped along outside until she was in front of the living room windows. She beamed and waved at him. Dick laughed, grinning out at her. His smile wavered a bit.

"Shit," he breathed, looking away. Damn it, Jason. Harley went back into the bedroom, closed the doors, and looked around.

"Jinkies! Look at this bed!" She called. He stepped into the room just as she dove onto the plush bedding, kicking up another cloud of dust. "Not again." She rolled onto her stomach and hid her face in her hands. Dick laughed, leaning over her. He put his lips right beside her ear, grinning.

"Is the room to your liking, Lady Quinn?" he asked, assuming a fake British accent as his hands slid up her sides.

"We will need to do some modifying, Sir Richard." She giggled, rolling over to look up at him. "So now what?"

"We could always go get things for our new place," he said quietly, leaning down to kiss her neck. His hands traced along her arms slowly, over her shoulders, and down her sides. Dick kissed her collarbone.

"Hmmm." She pulled him closer by his utility belt. "You seem like ya got something else in mind."

"Did I tell you that I dream about you?" Dick whispered, looking up at her as he slowly trailed his hands back up her waist, pulling her shirt up.

"No." She traced her thumbs along his jaw. "I hope they're good dreams."

"With the exception of the occasional memory of you beating the shit out of me, yes. All good dreams." Dick grinned at her, leaning up to bite her lip before kissing her softly. "Although even Batman begrudgingly admitted once that your jester costume was kind of hot, so it wasn't just me thinking it, at least." His hands moved to her hips, suddenly pulling her against him, his lips brushing hers. "Just because you were a super villain doesn't mean I can't admire the way that costume fit you." She wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Was a super villain? How that outfit fit?" Her hands pulled his face to the side so she could bite his ear. "What's wrong with the one now?" she whispered.

Dick let out a sharp breath through his teeth. His hand slid over her leg to the soft skin under her thigh, his thumb tracing along the hem of her shorts. "Oh I like this one just fine."

Harley giggled, kissing along his jaw. Ya shouldn't be doin' this, she told herself. "We should really go get the stuff for this place, huh?" She leaned back, grinning. "I'd hate for things ta be dirty."

"I thought you liked it a little dirty," Dick laughed, his hands tightening on her legs as he leaned up a bit to look at her.

"Not…" She held up a finger with a look of concentration on her face until she sneezed. "Not this kind of dirty." She hid her face in the crook of his neck as she giggled.

Dick laughed, closing his eyes. Shit shit shit. "Alright, alright," he agreed, suddenly desperate to get out of the situation he'd put himself in. He sat up and stepped away from the bed, still smiling; masking his panic.

Harley blinked at his sudden retreat. "Well jeepers, I don't bite." She laughed. "Okay, sometimes I do." She hopped off the bed. "This place needs some color… and new bedding." She hit the covers and watched the dust poof up.

Dick took a deep breath, running his hand through his long hair. "Yeah. Let's go get some stuff," he smiled.

"Okey dokey. Ooo! Can I try the grapplin' thing this time?" She grinned hopefully at him. Dick looked at her unsurely, but shrugged.

"I don't see why not. Come on," he walked to the balcony doors, opening them up and stepping out into the chill.

She skipped after him. "So how do these doohickey's work?"

"Alright. Well the grappling hook is all physics." He pulled out one of his escrima sticks; about a foot and a half long and an inch and a half in diameter, showing it to her. It was black polymer with thin blue accents around the circumference about four inches from each end. "It's a simple weapon, with a grappling hook in one end and a charged taser in the other," he explained. There were two nearly imperceptible buttons in the grips on it's surface; one near the end furthest from him, and one beside his hand where he held it. He pressed the one closest to his hand. The blue strip around the far end suddenly lit, crackling with electricity. "This one is for the taser, and the other end is for the grappling hook. Press it once and it's charged, press it twice-" he did so, and sharp metal prongs shot out- "it's still charged, just more dangerous." When he pressed it a third time the blue strip went dark and the prongs sank back into the weapon.

"That is so cool," she said in awe. She poked her head close to the end of the stick as she looked at it. "Why doesn't everybody carry these?"

"Because despite giving the impression of just beating people with sticks, they're very, very hard weapons to master. Batman invented these upgraded ones himself, and they're also incredibly expensive to make," Dick laughed.

"Got it. Ya break it ya bought it." She grinned. "So how does the…" she mimed firing in the air, "work?"

"The grappling hook." He chuckled and turned the weapon over in his hand so that the other end faced out. "It's a more complicated piece of tech. Basically this part opens up-" Dick tapped the end above the blue accent- "and folded inside here is- well, it's not really a grappling hook. It looks like the top of a harpoon- it's small, but you fire it into the concrete of a building, and three wings open up from it. Little metal pieces to help it grip. It's connected to a high-tensile steel cable that can lift up to a ton." He smiled, handing her the escrima stick to examine. She could see the nearly invisible lines on the top where it opened up. "The cable is coiled tightly down the length of the weapon, like a fishing line. All in all, it's about six hundred feet long."

"Ya know I had a grapplin' hook once." She smiled up at him. "It… didn't work…"

Dick laughed and let out a slow breath, biting his lip. He was glad that she couldn't see his eyes behind his mask; he knew he was falling for her, and he wouldn't have been able to bear it if she knew. With his mask on, he was still able to hide. "So it's just…" He stepped behind her, swallowing hard as he held out the escrima stick. She took it, his hands over hers and his arms around her. "From here, we want to get down, so I'd fire it over here-" he moved her a bit so she was facing the balcony of the neighboring room. The wind blew through her hair, her loose bangs brushing his face. Dick took a deep breath to focus. "Aim close to the bottom. It has to be high enough up that it won't crumble, but low enough that it will still release." His words were quiet, his lips just beside her ear.

Harley shuddered, and she knew it wasn't because she was cold. His arms were warm around her. Focus. She carefully tried to aim. It felt awkward in her hands, the angle different than aiming a gun. She took a deep breath and hit the button.

"Brace yourself, there's a bit of a kick-" he cried, and his hands swiftly tightened around hers before the escrima stick could whip out of her hands as the sharp, pronged end fired out and bit into the concrete of the balcony, the steel line going taut. "And hold on tight," he laughed. "A strong grip is key. This is much more difficult than a grappling gun, because there's very little to hold onto. Same when you swing off. Hold it tight. Ready?" Dick turned his head a bit, his lips brushing her ear. Stop it, he scolded himself.

But he didn't want to.

"Um, no." She glanced at him. "You're distracting me," she confessed.

"I'm sorry. I'm really trying not to," he admitted, biting his lip. Dick stepped back and lifted her onto the balcony railing, stepping up behind her with his boots on either side of hers. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he held the escrima stick just above her hands. "All you have to do is hold the button to release more cording. When you let go, the line will stop coming out; and if you push it again, the cording retracts. Don't double-click it, that will release the wire from the stick completely and then we'll be in trouble," he instructed.

"Okay. Hold for cording, stop ta stop, an' press ta retract," she mumbled to herself. Her stomach felt tight with the suspense, and she was glad he was with her. "Okay." She took a deep breath, squealed a little to herself, and tipped off the railing. She pressed and held the button as they fell. She felt Dick's muscles tighten against her back, his arm tensing around her waist as the cording released and they dropped in a free fall, swinging forward as well as racing down. The ground was coming up fast and in a panic Harley's thumb slipped off of the button and the cord stopped abruptly. Dick inhaled sharply and for a second- they continued to free fall- before the line went taut. The motion jerked on her shoulders painfully and yanked the weapon out of her hand; Dick still held firm, but he'd been focusing on her and hadn't seen the roof to the front entrance of the hotel coming. Harley squealed and Dick let go just before they hit it; they dropped the remaining six feet to the pavement and Dick's arms curled around her protectively.

He cried out when his back hit concrete, pain exploding in the wound in his shoulder, and the air rushed out of his lungs as Harley's weight came down on his chest. Dick groaned and started to laugh, wheezing slightly.

"Oh my God!" Harley cried, quickly rolling off of him. "Are ya okay?" She checked him over. "I am so sorry. Oh gosh, are you alright?"

Dick laughed harder, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm good, I'll be fine- just let me- give me a second-" he coughed, reaching down to press a button on the holster strapped to his thigh. The escrima stick dangling above them suddenly shot upward as the cording retracted and finally released, and Dick watched the weapon fall towards him before reaching up and catching it to prevent it from hitting his face. He slid it into the holster and coughed again.

"I coulda killed you!" she gasped. "I just, I panicked, and just your arms were around me, and that thing is so hard ta hold onto, an' I'm so sorry."

"No, it's fine," he laughed, sitting up. His shoulder was burning. "I should've seen it coming, it was my fault. You didn't know," he amended, smiling at her. "I'm fine, really." She made a strangled noise and buried her face in his chest.

"I shouldn'ta asked ya to let me do that."

"You'll have to learn, either way," he grinned. "Now come on, we've got some house shopping to do, don't we?" He stood unsteadily, holding his shoulder.

Harley put a hand over her mouth. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," he straightened up, kissing her head. "Deadshot clipped me yesterday when he stole all of our food," Dick smirked, guiding her away from the building and down the street. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" She looked a little taken aback.

"I didn't hear about that." She frowned.

"Maybe he doesn't trust you as much as you think," Dick commented, shoving his hands in his pockets. Harley looked like she was seriously considering this for a second before she shrugged.

"Nah. It's probably just cuz 'a the thing Deadshot and I had while I was in the Suicide Squad. I think Mistah J's still mad at him for that," she mused. Dick cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Oh. Of course, though, why not?" he muttered, kicking a cigarette box along the street. Harley grinned.

"Are you jealous?"

"No I'm not," he looked at her, answering a little too quickly. His cheeks went red. "No! Why would I be? We're just friends," he tried to reassure them both.

"You are! Aw that's so cute!" she giggled. "If it makes ya feel any better, we all thought we were gonna die."

"There's a furniture shop," he mumbled. "Do we need to go in there? What exactly are we trying to find?" Dick asked, trying to change the subject.

"I dunno. Let's find out." She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the store. "So," she glanced back at him, grinning, "is there anyone I need to be jealous of?"

Barbara, he thought, but then the name left his mind as quickly as it had come. "Not that I know of." Damn you. He couldn't help but scold himself. Does she mean that little to you? Dick watched Harley, pulling him into the dark furniture store as she skipped a bit. He smiled. Or does Harley just mean... more? His smile vanished and he shook his head a bit. Damn you to hell.

"What, no new girl? You an' Batgirl still over?" she pried as she dropped down onto the first recliner she came across.

"No big furniture," he told her, looking around. "There's already some in the room- and besides, how would we get it in there?"

"So what you're sayin' is ya want a furniture kit you can put together," she giggled. "Kiddin', no big furniture." She hopped back up. "And you're avoidin' the question."

"I answered your question," he looked down at her. "I said not that I know of. Unless you're jealous of the hundreds of fangirls I have in Downtown," he added, smirking.

"That wasn't the question an' you know it." She smacked his chest before wandering over to look at mirrors.

"Fine," Dick raised an eyebrow, following her. "If I answer that, you have to answer my question," he brushed past her, glancing back. "You remember the rules."

"We're breakin' all the other ones," she muttered. "Fine, what's your question?"

"Who's better, me or the Joker?" he grinned, turning to her and leaning against the frame of a full length Victorian mirror. Harley could see herself reflected in the dusty surface. She squinted at him, pursing her lips.

"Oh no doubt you're more morally good," she said sweetly.

"That wasn't the question an' you know it," he imitated her accent, still grinning. She glared at him.

"Fine. I retract my question," she muttered, sticking her tongue out at him.

"That's what I thought." He laughed, walking away through the rows of furniture.

"You're such a butt." She grabbed a throw pillow off a couch and tossed it at the back of his head. Dick laughed and glanced over his shoulder at her, smoothing his hair down where the pillow had hit.

"I knew you wouldn't answer it, and therefore I wouldn't have to answer your question. I went to four different private schools and one semester of a University to learn the skills to do that," he grinned, shrugging.

"And what if ya were wrong, boy genius?" she taunted. "What if I'd said Joker? Or..." She walked past him, trailing her hand along his chest as she smiled. "What if I'd said you?" She smirked over her shoulder at him as she moved into the lamp section. His smile vanished.

Well, shit.

Dick mentally screamed in frustration, staring after her. "Then I guess I would have either been very embarrassed or very flattered," he stuttered, angry with himself for tripping over his words, a string of curses and infuriatingly inappropriate thoughts running through his mind. Harley giggled.

"Four years at Gotham University studying psychology and psychiatry to learn to do that," she teased.

Why are you taunting him? Do you really wanna know the answer to these questions? The answer was yes. She did. She wanted to know if there was anyone else, and if he'd said no, she knew she'd be ridiculously happy. If he said yes, she hoped she wouldn't rip the girl's throat out. It didn't matter that she knew she shouldn't want it; she still did. And the fact that he wanted to know who was better frustrated her beyond reason. She couldn't answer that question. Either way, she would lose him as a friend. She glanced around the lamps trying to distract herself. She suddenly screamed.

"They have a lava lamp!"

"No power," he reminded her. "Candles," he suddenly remembered. "We'll need candles."

"For what?" Robin suddenly asked, and Dick cried out, whirling around. No one was there, and he sighed in relief, pressing his comm.

"Um… just Supply run. Last night Red Hood and I picked up a lot of candles, and they were in the truck that was stolen. The citizens are running low on them; I just remembered that I had to tell Supply that," he lied lamely, his heart racing. Suddenly he'd been wrenched out of his dream world, and he saw what he was doing- neglecting his duties, and in doing so, putting Robin, himself, and the rest of his family in danger, as well as the city and the people in it- his throat felt like it closed on itself and he took a deep breath, fighting to clear it. Oh God, what are you doing, Grayson…

"Alright, tell them when we get in. And thanks for checking in, asshole, it's been a while," Damian snapped sarcastically. Dick bit his lip.

"Sorry, Robin, I-"

"-no, don't worry about it. But I warn you- disappear like you did last time, and I'm telling Father that you've been completely remiss in your duties."

"But I haven't!" Dick cried defensively.

"Your voice wavers when you lie, and I guarantee you're biting your lip. Don't lie to me. You don't have to tell the truth, either, but don't lie. If you don't want to tell me what you do every day, I don't care."

The comm went dead and Dick switched it to mute again.

Endangering them. Endangering him, myself… and what for?

Harley was leaned around a shelf looking at him. "Did ya know that from the wall, you guys look ridiculous when ya talk on your comms? It's a lot 'a gestures and talkin' to yourself, and it looks funny." She giggled. Dick laughed, smiling a little.

Her.

"You're one to talk." He took a deep breath. Why shouldn't he allow himself this luxury? I've sacrificed everything for Gotham. I don't want to have to give her up too. "See anything you like?" he asked, walking towards her, stopping next to the shelf. He cupped a hand under her chin. "Because I sure do." Dick leaned down and kissed her passionately. It was so sudden, so forward that she was shocked into kissing back. He held her face in his hands as they kissed. Shit, damn it, son of a- Dick kissed her again, his panic suddenly over. You never should have started this, he thought in resignation, but what's done is done. Harley giggled, pushing him back into the shelves; the lamps rattled. She broke off the kiss and bit his lip before kissing down his neck.

"I really hope it's not that ugly armoire because that'd be disappointing," she mumbled.

"Damn. I knew I shouldn't have gotten attached to it," he laughed, leaning his head back against the shelf as he closed his eyes. He pulled her closer by the lapels of her jacket and bit his lip, pushing her back across the aisle and against a dresser as he caught her lips again. Harley gasped. She grabbed his face, kissing him hard. After a few seconds, she stopped and glanced to the side in confusion.

"Did ya hear something?"

"I didn't," he muttered, biting her ear and pulling her against him by her belt. Her hands grabbed at his hair, and she tilted her head back before freezing. She glanced at the recliner section where she heard scuffing.

"Okay, did ya hear that?"

Dick had stopped too, and he looked at the rows of Lay-Z-Boys. "Yeah. Yeah, that I heard," he breathed, pulling an escrima stick out of the holster and pressing the button to charge the end. He walked towards the recliners. Harley followed behind him, peering over his shoulder. When the source of the noise finally came into view, Harley squealed so loud Dick jumped and nearly screamed.

"Aw! It's so cute!" The weiner dog looked up at the noise, sniffing at them.

Dick stared down at it, scrawny and malnourished, with a couple of scars on it's back that he could only assume had come from bigger dogs. Packs of strays wandered around Uptown, it wasn't a shock. "It's… what is it doing in here?" Dick knelt down, and the dog hunched over, growling.

"I dunno, maybe we smell like food." Harley squatted down beside him. "Hi little guy." She beamed. "We won't hurt ya. Right?" She glanced at Dick. "Put the taser away," she ordered. "You're scaring 'im." Dick rolled his eyes and double clicked the button to turn it off. The dog crept closer to Harley sniffing her outstretched palm.

"It's starving," Dick said quietly. "Be careful."

"It's not a zombie," she muttered. She scratched the dog's ears. "If I had food, I would give it to ya."

"Maybe we can find it some. We should get out of here, though. It's been a while, any number of Infected could be outside. Let's move on to someplace else." He grabbed her hand and stood.

"Okay," she sighed. "Come on puppy." It sniffed her leg, and trailed behind her when she started walking.

"Harley, no- we can't take it," he said gently, stopping and glancing down. "What are we going to do with it?"

"Feed it," she said seriously. "We can't just leave him here." She opened the door before making a surprised squeaking noise and slamming it closed. "Okay, I did not expect that."

"Infected?" he asked.

"Yup," she nodded. Dick groaned.

"Okay, grab the dog," he muttered, taking her hand as she scooped the squirming daschund up and they ran towards the back of the store.

"It's okay. We'll find you a Petco or something that has some dog food," she told the dog. Dick rolled his eyes and pulled Harley out the back door, heading for the commercial district a few blocks away.

They went through what was left of Wal-Mart, stripped nearly bare, and then browsed the other chain stores in the vicinity before finally calling it quits. The sun was dropping nearer to the horizon when they'd finished and begun their walk back to the hotel, both of them pushing stolen shopping carts full of the toiletries, knick knacks, and other scavenged treasures that they'd found. It took six trips to get everything into the room, and by the time they'd finished, the sky had grown dark. Dick stood on the balcony and looked out at the moon sparkling on the water surrounding the city. He'd spent nearly the entire day with her, completely ignoring his job- yet he couldn't bring himself to regret it. The little dog that they'd found barked happily behind him and he turned, smiling as he watched Harley dump a bag of beef jerky into a dish, along with some stale dog food.

"So what are you going to call it?" he asked, leaning back against the railing. The French doors to the balcony were pulled wide open, the curtains blowing in with the cool breeze. The pile of things they'd collected lay in the corner.

"Um," she sat back on her heels and watched the dog eat, "well he's a wiener dog… How about Oscar Mayer?" She beamed up at him. "Get it?"

"Of course," Dick laughed. His stomach growled and he looked down in surprise. They hadn't scavenged much food; there hadn't been much left to scavenge. He sighed and walked back into the dark rooms, rummaging around for the candles they'd managed to find. He took a box of matches out of his utility belt and started setting them all over the room until it was filled with the warm yellow glow of the firelight. "We should probably eat something," he said distractedly, lighting another candle as his stomach growled again.

"Like what?" She laid down and rolled onto her back as she smiled up at him. "Uptown and Arkham aren't exactly buried in food in case ya didn't notice."

"I did, actually. We found enough for tonight, and I do have these-" he pulled a few protein bars and half a dozen Kit-Kats out of his utility belt pockets. Harley sat up.

"Is that chocolate?"

"Yeah, mood lighting and chocolate, I'm giving you the full Monty here," he tossed her one with a smirk.

"Yes!" she cried as she caught it. "I haven't had chocolate in a year." She peeled the wrapper off as she talked. "I mean, I gathered a stash when things went south, but I'm bad at not eatin' things when I have 'em." She happily shoved a piece in her mouth. Oscar Mayer had finished his food and sniffed at her hand. Dick felt a pang of guilt before he sat down beside her on the floor, unwrapping a protein bar.

"I'll bet you were one of those kids who never had any Halloween candy left, either," he smiled.

"I was the kid who'd eat the whole pizza if ya left me alone at a party," she laughed.

"Something tells me you were never alone at parties," Dick raised an eyebrow, flopping back onto the carpet.

"I know! I never got ta eat the whole pizza." She laid back down beside him as she giggled. The dog trotted across the room to go smell the bathroom. Dick looked down at her with a smile.

"That's what I thought. So what was the infamous Harley Quinn like in college? Let me guess, the stay in and study type?" he asked, tossing the wrapper of his protein bar aside.

"Yeah, I guess," she shrugged. "I can only assume you were the exact opposite if you only made one semester."

"Not really. College was just never my thing. I was much happier on the streets, wearing a mask, than I ever would have been with a cap and diploma," he explained, tucking his arm under his head. The light from the candles flickered and danced in the breeze coming through the doors.

Harley sighed happily and stretched on the floor. She'd spent the time Dick had been grappling everything up vacuuming the whole place while the dog barked at the vacuum and hid under the bed. One battery powered vacuum didn't come with nearly enough charge to clean the whole floor, and it had taken three for her to be satisfied with it. She'd gotten red covers for the bed but blue sheets, and insisted the non functional lava lamp be put on an end table. She realized how tired she was, and the thought made her panicked.

"I should probably be heading back soon."

"We both should," Dick said quietly, closing his eyes. "Doesn't mean I want to."

"Nope." She agreed and sighed. "This floor is seriously so comfy."

"Then let's stay awhile." His arm came down from under his head, tucking around her shoulders and pulling her close. She giggled.

"Didn't we both just say we should go?" She pushed his hair out of his face.

"Go where?" He smiled down at her. She pretended to think about it.

"Why don't ya give me a sec? I think I need help rememberin'." She pulled him to her by his jacket. "Got anything that'll jog my memory?"

"I might have a couple of tricks in my belt," he laughed, his lips barely touching hers before he finally kissed her again, as intensely as he had in the shop. It was easier now that he had accepted it; resigned to his feelings for her. He wasn't in love, he just cared for her. At least, that's all he wanted to believe, and either way it made being with her so much less complicated. Harley rolled on top of him, her hands running up his neck to his jaw.

"Oh now I remember," she mumbled against his lips before kissing him quick. "It was away from you."

"Right," he smiled, pulling her jacket off slowly as he kissed her gently and then bit her lip. "I'm the bad guy…" he trailed off when he saw the bruises on her arms, left there by the Joker's hands. He scoffed quietly. "Right."

Harley leaned up, biting the inside of her cheek nervously. She'd completely forgotten about the bruises and that she was trying to hide them from him. She'd hoped remembering they were there would keep her from getting into another situation that would make her feel guilty, but… at least he hadn't seen all of them. "We should go," he nodded, looking away as he sat up, moving her gently off of his lap. Dick got up and began blowing candles out. Harley sat where he'd left her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"No, Harley, I'm sorry. How do you let him do this to you?" Dick asked quietly. His voice was pained, and he didn't look at her, stopping just behind her.

"It's… I don't… I mean, he's just a little more… rough than most people. He's just physically expressive. It's… he always says he's sorry." She wrapped her arms around her legs, hiding her face in her knees. Harley felt Dick's hand on her shoulder and when she looked up, he kissed her gently. He didn't care anymore. As long as she was with him, she wasn't with the Joker, and if it was the only way he could save her, then Batman be damned.

Harley blinked in surprise and hesitantly reached up to pull him down to her. Dick kissed her softly, his hand resting gently over the bruises on her arm. He helped her up as she stood and wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. Dick held her dearly. Something had changed in his demeanor. He wasn't desperate or passionate anymore. She couldn't bring herself to think loving. But it was. He was gentle and kind as he held her, tilting his head to kiss her again.

No, stop it. Harley closed her eyes, suddenly fighting the urge to cry. How tender he was being was making her chest ache. She didn't want to feel like this, she couldn't feel this. She mashed her lips hungrily against his, pressing herself to him. Dick responded slowly again, his thumb stroking over the bruises. She took his hands, placing them on her body as her tongue tied with his.

Love doesn't have to be painful, he thought, taking her furious advance and turning it back on her in a soft and gentle kiss, his tongue running along her lip. Let me show you. His hands came to rest modestly on her waist over her shirt, and he pulled her closer. Harley desperately pushed him back against the couch. Her hands fumbled with his belt, trying to get him to do anything.

"Harley..." Dick sighed her name, kissing her slowly, savoring the taste. When his hands finally met her skin, his touch was feather-light and gentle, again resting on her waist. She whimpered slightly, tilting her face down as a tear finally escaped.

"Please," she whispered.

"Shhhh," he wiped the tear away from her cheek, suddenly panicking again. He kissed her softly and then looked in her eyes. She could barely see his behind the white lenses of his mask. "Stay with me."

"I can't," she breathed. "He'll-" she cut herself off before she could say that he'd get mad. She couldn't meet Dick's stare. He stroked her back gently, holding her close.

"Whatever you think is best."

"I-I just…" She grabbed his jacket and rested her forehead against his chest. "I don't know."

"I'm allowing you to choose, Harley," he said gently. "If you want me, I'll stay. But if I do, I'm going to show you how I make love." He smiled a little, stroking her cheek. His lips met hers hesitantly as he kissed her, and then sighed happily. "Not that I'm biased either way..." He chuckled. Oscar had curled up on the floor, sleeping soundly under Harley's jacket.

Harley was tempted to say yes, and for a split second, she almost did. Then the moment passed and reality crashed down around her. She was Harley Quinn, the Joker's girl, Arkham patient, and wanted criminal; he was Nightwing, the Boy Wonder, hero, and one of the Bats. Even if she didn't love the Joker, even if he wasn't her whole life, she had nowhere else to go. Dick would leave tonight just like all the others, and Joker would still be all she had. If she chose Dick, she'd have no one and nothing.

She stepped away from him, her eyes mistrustful and her cheeks streaked with her mascara. "I think we should both go."

Dick looked taken aback, and then he nodded slowly. "Alright. I said it was your choice," he agreed, and then smiled gently. "I respect that, and I respect you."

"Stop sayin' it like that," she snapped. "Stop sayin' it like he doesn't love me. Stop sayin' it like he's not the only one who's been there for me and you aren't the enemy." She furiously wiped a tear away. She could see the white face paint that wiped into her hand and vaguely wondered how bad the bruises on her cheek looked now. "He may have his problems but it's not like you Bats can't take some 'a the blame. At least he's been there for me. An' I understand that you might not get our relationship, but you're not in Gotham right now. You're in Arkham, so welcome ta crazy. So stop acting like ya know me when we've only been friends for what? Not even a month. Friends," she scoffed. "An' you knew all this about me going into this 'friendship,' so stop judgin' me when the simple fact is that I love him. Okay?"

"I'm not judging you, Harley," he held up his hands in surrender, stunned at her cold and bitter words. "I didn't say a word. It's okay, I'll just go. I'm sorry," Dick breathed, walking towards the doors. Harley clenched her jaw, her chin trembling. She snatched up her coat and Oscar yapped at her. She froze.

"Oh sorry." She picked up the dog, scratching behind his ears. Dick waited quietly beside the doors for her, the moon casting a glow on his face as he stared at the floor quietly. She turned and looked at him. "What?"

Dick looked up at her, gnawing on his lip. "Excuse me? I didn't say anything," he watched her sadly.

"Why are you still- oh." She looked down awkwardly. They were on the top floor, and she had no other way down. He nodded slowly.

"Yeah, don't worry, I promise it won't hurt you to touch me the six point five seconds it will take to get down to the street; after that we can go our separate ways," he muttered, running his hand through his hair. Harley scuffed her foot along the ground. She looked up at him, opened her mouth, and closed it, looking back down. She walked slowly over, patting Oscar's head as he sniffed her chin. She stopped beside Dick and glanced up at him unsurely. "Don't look at me like that," he smiled, closing the doors behind them, but the smile was forced. It vanished quickly. He wrapped an arm around her waist and grappled safely to the ground, putting her back on her feet. Dick hesitated, and then kissed her cheek. "Be safe. Please." The dog stretched out trying to sniff him.

Harley nodded. "I will. An'... I'm sorry. I… overreacted a little." She didn't want to push him completely away.

"You didn't. I shouldn't have crossed that line." Harley nodded, looking down at Oscar who blinked balefully up at her.

"So I guess," she cleared her throat, "goodbye?"

"Until next time, beautiful," he shrugged, backing away from her, his lip caught in his teeth.

"Bye, Wonder Boy!" she called "Try not ta run into anything more dangerous than me tonight!"

"There's not a thing in this city more dangerous than you," he whispered, and then disappeared into the dark.