Merry Christmas toruviel! You had a few suggestions, but I had to pick one, after all… ;o) Hope you like it!

Set BEFORE "Back Where I Belong" but pretty close after "The Date"… so, to sum it up, out favorite couple are engaged, but haven't told anyone yet. Things with the bat-family are still under control… ;o) Not that that matters in this story… ;o)

Good Deeds

They were on their way back from another successful heist when a shrill scream echoed through the night, making Robin hesitate. Slade sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Go, then. But I won't wait up for you."

"Yes, you will…" Robin grinned and took off.

"Yes. Probably." Slade muttered under his breath and then grinned as well, shaking his head.

Robin took in the scene in a second. Five men were mugging a young woman, and she was doing everything wrong, holding onto her purse like it was more valuable than her life. Judging by the look of the men, she would soon regret it.

Jumping down in the middle of the group, Robin extended his bo-staff and smirked.

"Sorry boys, no luck tonight."

"Get out of the way, kid, or we're gonna have ya crying for mommy in a second." one of the thugs snarled. Robin had positioned himself between the men and the woman, hoping she would take the hint and just run for it. So far, she hadn't caught on.

"Let's just say you'll get started, all right? Or do you want to have a few more of your friends over first?" Robin sneered.

It was a slight nod from the leader of the group that told Robin that something was wrong. Mainly because the nod was aimed at someone behind him. Something crashed into the back of his head at that moment, and Robin fell to the ground, unconscious.

"You sure this is the one, babe?" one of the man asked the young woman holding the short, heavy truncheon.

"Yeah, daddy gave me a picture. Besides, who else would he be, huh? And don't call me 'babe' or daddy's gonna tear you a new one."

Slade was at a small workbench in the tech-department. Sure, it was nice to have a lot of people doing things for you, but both Robin and Slade himself were very 'hands on'. Right now the man was working on a tracking device that he and his partner was going to use. He was checking the silicone based senders in an electronic microscope. This wasn't exactly something you welded together or put a hammer to… this was actually more chemistry than electronics. Slade looked up and checked his watch. It was late. A bit too late. Maybe Robin had gotten home and gone to bed without coming to look for him, but that wasn't like him…. Slade frowned and left the lab. Half an hour later he was pretty sure that Robin wasn't in the building. Another half hour later he was completely sure. The few people that happened to see him on the way down to the garage quickly got out of the way. The look on Slade's face was enough.

Robin woke up slowly, fairly sure that a group of elephants had used the back of his head for tap-dancing lessons. Huge elephants. Possibly mammoths. He kept as still as he could, as he didn't want to alert his captors that he was awake… that, and the fact that he suspected that he would throw up if he as much as blinked. Several things were already clear to him, however. Firstly, he had been kidnapped. A clue was the fact that he wasn't dead, and that he had been moved. This place didn't smell like the alley, and he was definitely inside. Secondly, they knew who he was. He had been set up, and he knew that even if he survived the kidnappers he might not survive Slade… the man would have a field-day during training with this one. Robin was far from sexist, but the fact that he had apparently been knocked down by a girl, somehow managed to nag him anyway. Thirdly he was on the floor, and not tied down. That probably meant there were either people in here with him, or that he was locked up. He hoped for the former, as that meant he could possibly attack his guard and force his way out, but he hadn't heard any noises that spoke for that theory. No breathing or coughing, no rustling of a newspaper of shoes scuffing the floor… it was a bit too quiet.

After a few minutes the pain started to be more manageable, and he cracked his eyes open, just a sliver. A rather badly laid tiled floor in lovely shades of grey and brown, if grey and brown had ever been lovely colors, greeted him. He couldn't make out much more as there was a wall a few feet away.

Splendid… Robin thought bitterly to himself. Why couldn't it have been a nice spa, or at least somewhere carpeted? Why does being beaten unconscious and dragged away by unknown people always have to be a bad thing?

It was cold. Very cold. Robin suddenly realized that he was naked except for his underwear.

Thank god they are clean and not in an embarrassing pattern… he sighed. Then he thought back to the morning, dressing, and winced. Well. They are clean at least. There just might be little hearts on them. Just might. Fuck.

He didn't have much choice but to move. He pretended to roll over in his sleep, head lolling to the other side. Bars. And not the kind you could get drunk in. Nice. The room outside the bars seemed empty, as did his little cell. He couldn't spot any cameras either, so after a moment he decided to sit up. He slumped against a wall, which was partly due to acting, but also because several of the tap-dancing elephants decided to do an encore.

Always look weaker than you really are, in situations like these … Robin reminded himself. It was generally a good strategy, but if he could get out before anyone came back, that was even better. He got to his feet. The cell was completely bare, not even a bench to sit on, but behind a small divider there was something that, if you had a really good imagination, might be described as a toilet… the way a Chihuahua might be described as a dog. That could mean that his captors intended to keep him here for a while. Robin didn't know if that was good or bad.

The bars turned out to be the door, a gate-like construction, leading out into a short, wide hallway or small room. From that another, closed, door led. No windows. Great.

Suddenly said door swung open and a vaguely familiar man stepped in like he owned the place. Which he probably did, Robin figured.

"So, little assassin…" the man started to drawl. "Do you want to know why you are going to die?"

Robin's heart skipped a beat, but he didn't show it for a second. Instead he smirked.

"Wow… has been a long time since someone told me a bedtime story… I'm all ears…"

The man didn't even seem to have noticed him. Instead he stepped further into the small room, followed by two body-guard-types carrying a chair. As soon as the men put it down, the man sat. Robin rolled his eyes at the theatrics, but he tucked this little piece of information away. The man liked to play some sort of weird lord. Good to know.

"My name is Drake Nyman, I think you have heard of me?"

Robin had, and suddenly realized why he recognized this man. He had been mentioned in a few reports that had been brought to his and Slade's attention. Nothing big, not big enough to deal with, anyway, but it seemed they had been wrong. For a moment Robin thought about denying his knowledge, but maybe stroking this man's ego for now would be better… Robin's own ego didn't like it, but he knew Slade would have picked the smart way and not the easy one, so he swallowed his pride and nodded.

"Of course." he added, curtly.

Mr. Nyman seemed pleasantly surprised by this and smiled benevolently, like Robin was a fan-boy standing on his doorstep.

"I thought so… It is nice to finally meet you, even if it won't be for very long… Oh, maybe I should explain now…"

Robin very, very badly wanted to strangle the man.

"Where to start…?" Drake sighed. "Well… let's start before you and your… lover, came to the city. Do you know how things were run back then? By politicians and the police, on the surface, but really by around twenty larger mafia families and gangs of different origins. One grabbed what one could, and was content. And then you showed up. It was an epiphany, I must tell you! In a few short months you had the entire city in your grasp, holding its reins, as it were… I must say I was impressed, and I started to be… inspired…"

"Why thank you." Robin said, trying not to sound too ironic. He already had an idea where this was going, and he didn't like it.

"You are welcome. Anyway, why, I thought to myself, if a man and a boy can rule the city… why not I?"

Yup. there it was. Robin thought dryly.

"It is just one little problem, and that is that you rule it as criminals… I, on the other hand, have a much purer goal."

"And that is? Do tell?" Robin's voice was rather monotone by now.

"To turn this city into a city-state!" Mr. Nyman exclaimed, beaming. "We are the greatest city in the world, for what do we need the United States? We are America! We should rule ourselves, and the rest of the world should look up to us and follow in our footsteps!"

"That, Mr. Nyman, is an interesting goal, I must say…" Robin smiled coldly. "And how will you achieve this when the JL will knock on your door in a matter of minutes?"

"The JL keeps away from here." the man shrugged, and Robin snorted.

"Only because we have… leverage against them."

"Oh? Well, no matter, my boy, because this will be completely legal. The candidates for mayor are going to be announced tomorrow, and guess what? I'm one of them. The people of this mighty city will choose me as their leader, and I will take them beyond their wildest hopes and dreams, I will create a glorious future, I will-"

"Please shut up."

"Excuse me?"

"Really, my head hurts, I'm half naked and you expect me to stand here and listen to this drivel? Please just shoot me now, and get it over with…" Robin growled. Slade had to forgive him, but he had had enough.

Surprisingly the man didn't start spluttering in anger, instead he threw his head back and laughed.

"Ah… such insolence! Such bravery in the face of death! I can see how you would be a hero in the eyes of the low-life of this city, pushing the mayor and authorities around. Weaklings, the whole bunch! I'm going to clean up this city, purify it. There are sacrifices that have to be made, no doubt, but my goals are all true and good!"

"Oh, you are a good guy?" Robin sneered.

"Of course!"

"Then I apologize. I thought you were a psychotic maniac with hubris-issues. An easy mistake to make."

The man frowned somewhat now. Of the bodyguards only the one on the left seemed to be able to change his expression, as there was a ghost of a smirk on his lips. Robin had a feeling it wasn't a benevolent one, though.

"I guess I have to forgive you. Hearing about your own impending death must not be easy at your age. Well. I'm going to tell you about my plan anyway."

"You weren't done? Brilliant." Robin sighed.

"No. You are, in fact, a precious part of my plan. It is all about winning the love and trust of the people. As I said, tomorrow my campaign for mayor will begin, and after introducing my plans and goals I will start making it happen by presenting the greatest democratic threat to our city, and execute him. I'm sure you can guess who?"

"Yourself?" Robin asked innocently.

"Hardly."

"So you are going to begin your campaign by killing one of the city's most famous profiles? Nice move. None of the street vendors will vote for you. Besides, aren't executions against the law in this state? And privately initiated ones? I think that's murder."

"That's the lovely bit. Though the officials are too scared to actually offer a reward for your capture or death, they have issued a bill of absolution for anyone who kills you, which means; no reward but no punishment either. So you are free game, my boy. And your 'fans'… well, I'm sure they are just a few nut jobs… misfits, really. Nothing to worry about."

"And speaking about something to worry about…" Robin said slowly "What about Slade? Think you'll live long after your little show?"

"I'm sure that once I show the people the way, that they have the power to change their life if they just gain the courage, as soon as I show them that you are not some immortal demons… they will join me, and hunt him down."

Robin gave the man a long hard look.

"They won't have time. You'll see. Well. I'm still bored and naked. Could something be done about that? Either get me something to wear or leave. Either will do."

"So you can hang yourself in there and avoid your punishment? No. I think not."

Robin didn't bother to inform the man that if he had wanted to hang himself he was sure he would be able to manage that with his boxers… he didn't want them to be taken away as well.

"I guess it's time to tell you that the execution will take place in the morning. You have…" he checked his watch "---three hours. Not much time to worry, I guess? Good? Yes… I've restored one just for this event. The real way to execute people, I have always felt, but then I was always one for drama…"

"One what?" Robin asked, getting a morbid feeling of curiosity.

"Huh? Oh, I forgot to say? A guillotine of course! The first one to be used on American soil! Exciting, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I'm about to lose my head…" Robin snorted, getting a somewhat bigger smirk from 'Lefty the bodyguard', who apparently suffered from a very bad sense of humor.

"It is time for me to go. So much to do. You will be well taken care off while you are here. Do spend this time reflecting upon your life. Maybe you'll see your faults and can pray for forgiveness… leave this life with some sense of reconciliation, hmm? I will see you in the morning."

"Much too soon." Robin muttered, and watched the three men leave.

Sooo… he had only a few hours to get out of there. Robin paced the cell, studying every detail without making a move quite yet. There were a few things he thought he might try, but he wasn't very hopeful. This place was well built. Some fear actually started to make his stomach coil, but he tried desperately to push it down. If he got afraid, he would act out of panic, and that was never a good thing…. Besides, since the man had said he would be 'taken care of' Robin figured he would be fed soon. He was right, because only a few minutes later, the door opened again. Robin looked up to see 'lefty' walk in with a tray.

"Hello, pretty stuff… brought you a little snack…" the man grinned. Robin immediately resented the tone as well as the words. The way the man said it hinted too much at a double meaning. However, strong walls with weak guards still made a poor prison, and Robin was prepared to use whatever tools he had. Well. Almost.

"Bet you did…" he therefore smirked and moved closer to the bars. The guard did too. Not close enough, though. He merely tossed a wrapped up package through the bars and on to the floor.

Robin knew he had to play the weakness card and as he bent to pick the parcel up, he feigned a stumble and groaned, grabbing his head. He got up and leaned heavily on the bars, ignoring the cold metal against his skin.

"Still a bit of a headache? The bitch throws a hard punch…" the guard said with half a chuckle.

"Yeah… bit dizzy… who was that, anyway?"

"Boss's daughter. Bit of advice; don't try to hit on her."

Robin chuckled dryly and slid down the bars, sitting on the floor and leaning his side against them.

"Not a problem… she's not exactly my type." he placed the parcel in his lap and opened it. He wasn't really interested in the contents but wanted the guard to see him as a weak kid who was too hungry to focus on anything else.

"So… the rumors are true?"

"Rumors? Haven't you seen the photos?" Robin grinned up at him slightly, before returning to the package. "Yup… strong men are more to my liking than whiny bitches, you know?"

"Tell me about it." his guard muttered, and in the corner of his eye Robin saw how the man straightened some and inflated his chest. He had known it. The man bore every sign of spending too much time at the gym. He wasn't nearly as muscled as Slade was, but even though Slade worked out, the reasons, and results, were different. Slade did it to, roughly, stay alive, and this man did it to look pretty for the ladies… or lads… and somehow he had failed miserably, making his body unproportional instead. Not that he thought so himself, obviously.

Robin was still pretending to focus on his snack, though, which turned out to be a sandwich. He had hoped for something that needed utensils, but maybe they were too smart for that. He carefully checked the dry thing out, it had a slab of cheese and a sorry looking piece of lettuce, and not much else, and decided it was probably safe to eat. He took a bite and looked up at the man as he chewed, letting his eyes linger on his arms, before quickly looking down again, as if he had caught himself thinking dirty thoughts. The man was cheerfully fooled by the show, however.

"What's your name?" Robin asked innocently.

"Err… Hank… it's Hank…" the guard said, obviously caught in a few naughty thoughts himself.

"Oh. Cool name." Robin said, an obvious lie if any.

"Yeah…" the man half agreed, not quite sure himself. "Hey, listen… I'll bring you something better if you'll be a pal…"
Robin had never heard anything so lame in his life, almost busting out laughing, but instead looking up with wide eyes.

"Pal?"

"Yeah…I'm your guard, right? I could make life pretty bad for you, but if you'll be nice to me…"

"Oh…" Robin, with the help of the bars, heavily dragged himself to his feet and even managed to sway slightly. 'Life pretty bad'? Was the guy serious? His 'life' was supposed to end in a few hours! Wel, well, Robin decided to play along..."I… okay… Don't… I don't want any trouble…"

"That's right!" The man said, sounding relived and a bit surer of himself. "You don't, do you?"

"But… what if anyone sees?" Robin asked, looking around the room.

"There's no cameras, and no one's coming for another hour yet…" Hank told him, and Robin refrained from rubbing his hands together.

"Oh? Okay… I … would like a glass of water." Robin said, actually a bit thirsty after the dry sandwich. He also had a feeling that the damn man wouldn't make a move unless he started to make demands.

"Yeah, well, first you'll suck my cock." the guard said and stepped up to the bars.

A moment later Robin went through the pockets of the unconscious and heavily bleeding man. Grabbing him quickly and slamming his head against the bars had done the trick. He grunted as he finally managed to turn the man over after only finding lint, a paperclip and tissue paper in the first sets of pockets. The second set proved much more fruitful, though. Robin grinned as his fingers touched metal, and he pulled it out. A key. Perfect.

A few seconds later he cursed as said key didn't fit in the cell's lock. He suddenly realized that the guard was never meant to come into his cell, so why would he have a key to it? Robin wanted to scream out in frustration, but then he remembered the paperclip. He took a few deep breaths and turned the man over again, fishing the thing from his pocket. It was the metal variety, which was good or else it would have been useless, and Robin bent it with his fingers and teeth until he had made the tip of the wire into a rough lock-pick. He only had one, though, and he knew that wasn't enough. After bending the metal wire several times in the same spot, he managed to break it, giving him two picks, although a bit on the short side. They would have to do. Standing up he maneuvered his arms through the bars, bending them in very awkward angles to reach the lock. He nearly made it. He swore again as he found the bars too narrow to give him enough space to move the way he needed. The metal gave just a little bit when he pushed at it with all his strength, but he couldn't push and open the lock at the same time.

He kicked the bars hard, only resulting in a shooting pain through his foot, and looked around. He was starting to become desperate. His eyes landed on the man in front of him, and he got an idea. He rolled the man over yet again and started to undo his belt. The wide piece of braided leather might be useful, Robin only hoped the clasp would hold, but it looked sturdy enough. He wound the belt around two bars and tightened it. The bars bent slightly. Robin grinned. It just might work… He tightened the belt further, even planting his feet on the bars, pulling with all his strength and weight, and as he finally secured it, thankful the belt was braided so it didn't need holes as such, the bars were held apart just enough. There were too many of them, too close together, for him to ever hope to use this technique to slip through them, but now his arms had more rooms to move.

Still, it took nearly fifteen minutes for him to open the lock, and Robin felt almost ashamed of himself. He took the time to quickly search the room, but it was fruitless. He considered taking the guards clothes, but undressing an unconscious man, twice his own weight, would take far too much time, and besides, the clothes would fit badly, making it hard for him to move. The useless man didn't even have a weapon, and Robin couldn't help but kick him in the groin before leaving. He was lucky to be left alive. He brought the key, though, and it fitted the outer door. Locking it behind him, Robin figured that that would take them just a bit longer to figure out that he had escaped.

Creeping down the hall was nerve wrecking, but keeping his senses alert made him aware of two people coming down the corridor just beyond the corner a minute later. Robin picked up a bit of conversation.

"… to the kid. Hank's been in there quite some time, think he's having fu-" The men rounded the corner and walked straight into a very annoyed Robin. The boy's heel met the first one's chin, knocking him back against the other. Robin quickly slammed their heads together as they fell, and they quietly went down. The first man had been carrying a bundle of clothes, and Robin looked at them curiously. He hadn't heard everything the man had said, but he thought they might be meant for him. Apparently he wasn't to be executed in his undies. So considerate of them. The clothes were rough cotton of an indecisively bluish-gray dull color, reminding him of a prison outfit. They seemed to fit, though, and Robin pulled the simple shirt and pants on. This, at least, he could move around in. Now… for the exit. It was probably the way the guards had come, he figured, and headed that way, running softly on bare feet.

As he was about to pass a half open door he again heard voices and paused. They were low, like the speakers were on the other side of a large room, and Robin had to strain his ears to listen.

"But daddy, you said I could watch!"

"You can watch it on the TV like everyone else… I am sending this live over every station in the city…" a familiar voice said.

Robin swallowed a growl. Suddenly just getting out of there was no longer an option. He wanted revenge. He had no time to consider this, however, because the cold barrel of a gun was suddenly pressed into his neck.

Robin wanted to kick himself. He had been so focused on the conversation that he had completely missed the two guards sneaking up on him. A gun to his head wouldn't keep him from moving, though, hell, it was a great reason to move, but these guys were prepared, and knew not to give him any space. Instead he was pushed up against the wall, and as his forehead slammed into it quite hard, his hands were wrenched behind his back and expectedly tied there. Only then was he led into the room.

"Oh my… aren't you early? Eager to see this wonderful invention, were you?" Mr. Nyman chuckled. "Celia, darling, please leave us."

"But I want to watch the blood! Daddy!" the woman whined like a five-year-old.

"Now, Celia."

Robin was just barely paying attention. He was looking at the monstrous contraption in the middle of the room, with the high wooden frame that held the angled, heavy blade, ready to be dropped onto his neck. Surrounding it, were huge TV-cameras, and those made him feel even more sick to his stomach.

"Strap him down."

The order made Robin react and he twisted, trying to get out of the guard's hold. He nearly managed, even with bound hands, but more men joined the first and Robin had no way to protect himself from fists crashing into his stomach, making him gasp for air. Eventually they had him down on the bench, face down, and a heavy wooden headlock was lowered, keeping him in place. Roped were stretched over his body, although Robin couldn't move much as it was without breaking his own neck. He wanted to scream at them, a small part even wanted to beg, but he kept quiet, only snarling as he still fought his bounds.

"Now mind your language or we will have to gag you… you are going to be on TV, my boy." Mr. Nyman told him like he was some sort of bothersome child.

Robin proceeded to tell him exactly what he could do with the cameras and the whole guillotine, going into some detail before a gag was forced into his mouth.

He couldn't see much, as he could barely turn his head. Only the stands of the closest camera, oh, and the basket where his head was supposed to land. Robin closed his eyes for a second.

At least Slade will know what happened... he won't have to wonder… The thought was somewhat comforting. This was just such a stupid way to die! Bruce would no doubt blame Slade for it too, to make things even worse. He hoped Slade wouldn't tell him that it had happened when he was supposedly on a rescue-mission, because if Alfred found out… Robin was lost in thought, only opening his eyes again as a voice rose above the rest.

"Five minutes 'till we go live! Five minutes!"

Robin had stopped struggling now. There was little use. The next three minutes were the shortest of Robin's life.

"Places everybody! Two minutes!"

The room appeared to have filled with more people, but now everything seemed to still, everyone keeping quiet and only one and two kept moving around.

"10, 9, 8…"

The counting continued, and even though Robin knew that it was only the countdown for the 'show' to begin, it felt like it was to the dropping of the blade. The last three numbers were silent, and then Drake Nyman started speaking. He told the cameras pretty much the same thing he had already told Robin, so the boy tried not to listen. A sudden movement in his field of vision turned out to be a hand held camera, getting a close-up of his face. Robin met the stare of the black, dead lens with a similar expression in his eyes, determined not to show any of the fear he felt. Sure he didn't want to give his enemies the pleasure, but his thoughts were mainly with Slade…. although the man would be able to read him even if he had had a hood over his head… Slade would see the terror and the hopelessness anyway… Robin closed his eyes again.

"And so, ladies and gentlemen. It is time. Some of you might say that he is just a child. In years this might be true, but he is also a vicious killer, and abomination of this city. I will have none of that. Vote for me, and this is only the beginning. Together we have the strength to rid ourselves of scum like this. All I have to do is pull this lever, and the blade will be baptized in the name of truth, justice and a bright future for all of us… beloved citizens… I give you… freedom!"

Robin wondered if there would be any noise. There was. First the crack of something being released, and then a hissing sound as the blade fell. A strange thud and then a sharp pain in his neck. Robin slowly opened his eyes, half expecting to see the inside of the basket. Blood was running down his neck, but it felt like still had one. There seemed to be quite a bit of things going on in the room, but Robin couldn't make any sense of the noises.

"Are you going to lie around here the whole day?" a gruff voice asked above him. Something cold lifted from his neck and then the headlock disappeared as well. Robin tried to roll away, but he was still strapped down to the bench, his hands bound behind his back. One by one the ropes fell away, and as soon as Robin's hands came away, he sat up and removed the gag, quickly glancing around the room. It looked like a slaughterhouse. His eyes traveled to the guillotine, noticing that the reason his head still was attached was one of Slade's large throwing knives that had embedded itself deeply into the hard wood. Unfortunately the weight of the blade had been a little too much, making the knife bend dangerously, and the sharp edge hadn't stopped until just before severing Robin's neck. Robin ran a hand across the back of his neck, and seeing it coming away bloody from the shallow cut, he frowned up at his lover.

"Cutting it a bit close there, weren't you?"

Slade smirked.

"Ungrateful brat."

Robin smirked back and looked around.

"You killed all of them?" he noticed the body of Drake. "Damn."

"I'm sorry. I didn't exactly have time to assess the situation. Better to be safe than sorry. You wanted him to live?"

"I wanted to place him in this thing… Robin gestured to the guillotine. "You know… poetic justice?"

"I see. I apologize."

"Don't. He was a maniac… He wanted to turn this place into a city-state, rule it himself… he kept talking about democracy, but I don't think he ever looked the word up… How did you find me, anyway?"

Slade looked a bit uncomfortable.

"I found the alley easily enough, and there were traces of your blood on the ground. Then… I asked myself what Batman would have done…"

Robin laughed at the uneasy expression on the man's face.

"And what did you do?"

"I found a homeless man, who had actually been in the back of the alley the whole time. I asked him a lot of questions. He remembered the woman talking about her 'daddy' and I took it from there… ran some searches, talked to more people… finally I found this place…"

"Awww… you were being a detective for me!" Robin grinned even wider. "That's so sweet…"

Slade was more serious, however.

"I've shouldn't have let you go…"

"Yes." Robin straightened up and looked deep into Slade's eye. "Yes, you should. You can't blame yourself for this…" he reached up and pulled the man down for a kiss. As he did, Robin noticed a small movement from the door, and, quickly pulling a shuriken from Slade's belt, he let it fly. There was a small, surprised sound and then the body of Drake's daughter, her hand still clutching a gun, hit the floor with a dull thud, the shuriken sticking out from her forehead.

"There…. she just wanted to see the blood…" Robin explained. "Where were we?" Another kiss was just what he needed right now, and Slade didn't mind in the least.

An hour later they were back home, walking into the elevator that would take them to the main lobby.

"That was rather low, you know, even for us…" Robin mumbled.

"What was?" Slade asked innocently.

"Making love in a room full of dead people… I need a two hour shower now…" Robin shivered.

"Well, when you want it, you want it…" Slade smirked, ad Robin knew he was right, it was him that hadn't wanted to let go after the second kiss, and things had just progressed from there.

"Well, at least the guillotine was useful for something …" he smirked.

As they walked out of the elevator there were hoots and whistles, making Robin's head snap up. There were grinning and clapping people everywhere, shouts of "encore!" were heard and then it hit Robin, just as Slade hissed.

"Robin… those cameras… were they on?"

The End.

A/N: like… one billion dollars to the one who thinks up a name for the blasted city! I just can't think of one! Oh, by the way… there is no money… sorry… maybe… a drabble? or a pic? Or a thank you? –grin- Just throw some ideas at me! Has to be unused ones, though… Not like 'New Blüdhaven' or something... ;o)