A/N: Merry Christmas Baruga! This story is for the Sladin Christmas give-away in the Duckling group on facebook.

Going Down?

Dick Grayson sighed wistfully as he locked his hotel door and started walking down the hall toward the elevators. He would miss this place. His dingy apartment here in Blüdhaven was being fumigated, so the whole building was off limits for a few days. Dick had decided to splurge on a week of luxury at the finest hotel in Blüdhaven, and he had to admit: he liked it. Usually, he didn't live outside his means when it came to his private life; his pitiful salary as a rookie cop covered everything. When it came to his second career as Nightwing, though, well… he used some of the interest from his trust fund for that. Gadgets were expensive. He had now spoiled himself for a week. He wasn't even doing any hero work as all his things were very carefully locked up and concealed back at the apartment. He couldn't risk a snooping hotel maid finding out who Nightwing was, after all. Blüdhaven would just have to manage without him for a few days.

He just wished that he didn't feel so damn guilty about that part.

Well, he worked extra hard as a cop, trying to make up for it as he doubled his effort and put in extra hours. He was on his way to the nightshift right now, dressed in a pristinely pressed police uniform, which the hotel staff had been kind enough to iron. It was a skill that he should work on more. He patted his pockets and swore. He'd forgotten his phone.

After retrieving it from his room, he entered the elevator and spotted himself in the mirror wall inside. He couldn't help but grin a little bit. Not bad. Not bad at all. He'd do him. Maybe his hair needed a trim, but he kind of liked it longer. Maybe he should let it grow?

As he was so busy with his sudden bout of narcissism, he didn't really notice the man stepping in behind him; he was only vaguely being aware of another person's presence.

"Going down?"

Richard froze. That voice. No? Certainly not?

"Where else? We're on the top floor," he answered, keeping his voice carefully even.

"I see you still have a bit of your deductive skills intact, Robin."

The young man spun around. "It is you! What the hell-"

"Now, now, I know you're happy to see me, but we can hug later. I came to-"

"Slade." Dick grabbed the man's shoulder and spun him around. The mercenary was obviously so surprised that he let the younger man do it, and soon the officer had a grip on his wrists. "You are hereby under arrest; you have the-"

"You're joking?" the man asked, sounding rather amused.

"These aren't a joke," Richard growled and slapped his handcuffs on the man's wrist. The level of satisfaction was almost orgasmic.

"What exactly are the charges, officer?"

The younger man wished that Slade wouldn't sound so amused.

"I'm sure that you're guilty of something somewhere!"

"Ah, Robin-"

"I'm Dick now!"

A thick white eyebrow arched. "I can tell."

"… I have to remember that police brutality is a bad, bad thing…" Richard muttered under his breath.

"So is bad hospitality. I expected to be greeted somewhat better. After all, when we last parted, we weren't exactly… enemies, where we?"

"We weren't exactly friends either."

"Fuck buddies?"

"What?! We never-!"

"Right. Wishful thinking…" the man nodded.

"I was sixteen!"

"And that would be the reason, yes. Good thing you grew up," the man's voice had changed to something rather unsettlingly seductive now.

"Can't this elevator move any faster?" Richard growled.

Then the elevator stopped moving at all.

Actually, it started with a tremor which grew until the floor seemed to dance under their feet. The lights flickered before going out completely, and then the elevator rattled to a halt.

"Are you going to tell me you had nothing to do with that either?" Richard hissed, trying to get used to the dark. He reached for the flashlight on his belt only to remember that it was at the station, in its charger since last night. Great.

"As much as I would like to take credit for rocking your world… I think that was an earthquake."

"Earthquake? That big? In Blüdhaven?" Richard realized that he didn't sound as incredulous as he wanted to sound. It was like he expected Slade not only to be right, but also to tell the truth. The man usually was, though, on both accounts. It was annoying. Per definition villains should be untrustworthy! Slade clearly hadn't read the handbook.

To be fair, he had changed a lot after helping them defeat Trigon. He had become more human and of a threat…well, no, not less dangerous, but he and Dick had… bonded. It had been a complete secret, of course, but they had even trained together before Slade told him that he was leaving on a mission and never returned to Jump. The Titans got a few messages, so he knew the man wasn't dead, just busy. Too busy for him. And then he had realized not only that he missed the man, but also why: he had a crush on him. Richard wasn't one for drinking, but after that truth hit him in the tower, he was retracting his sticky hand from under the covers after another strange fantasy scenario late at night… well, he was rather close to go binge drinking. He actually did go on quite a binge once he thought back and realized that Slade had been aware and jokingly flirted back.

"Lost in thought? Reminiscing about old times?" the man's deep, smooth voice asked teasingly in the dark.

"Absolutely not."

"Good, then why don't we get out of here?"

"I'm working on it." The quickest way, Richard figured, was using the built in alarm in the elevator. Those buttons were florescent, so he could find them easily although they didn't shed any real light in the rest of the space. He pressed the emergency call button, which was supposed to sound some sort of alarm. Nothing happened. Richard wasn't sure that they would hear anything, but it would be nice to get some sort of confirmation that the alert had been heard.

"Try the phone instead," Slade suggested, and Richard pushed the button to that. Now there was a signal and finally a rather stressed out voice on the other hand.

"This is the hotel reception. What is your status?"

"We're stuck in the elevator," Slade said dryly as if the woman on the other end was an idiot.

"There's two of us. We're unharmed. What happened?" Richard wanted to know.

"There's been an earthquake, it seems. The power is out in the whole block, but don't worry, we'll try to resolve things as soon as possible."

"Don't you have backup generators for emergencies?" Dick asked.

"Normally, yes, but they have been taken offline for service. We're trying to get a hold of a maintenance crew to get them working again."

"How long?" the mercenary asked.

"Well, sir, the power could come back at any moment, but the electricians could find it difficult to get here, I understand there's a bit of damage further down town."

"Shit…" Richard muttered, wanting to be out there to help.

"You are not in any danger, so please don't panic," the receptionist insisted. "There are no fires anywhere close to here, and we know exactly where you are. We're working on freeing you as soon as possible."

"Thank you," Richard said.

"You'd better," Slade muttered at the same time.

Richard's phone rang with the angry, loud signal that meant that it was his boss.

"Where the hell are you, Grayson?!" the voice on the other side barked as he answered.

"Sorry, chief. I'm stuck in an elevator at the Plaza. The power's out."

"We need you out here. It's chaos," the man said next, calmer by now.

"Yes, I'll see if there's something I can do, sir."

"You sit tight and wait for rescue. Don't try anything stupid, you're not a damn hero, Grayson."

"Yes sir, um… or no sir," Dick sighed. "I won't."

"Report to me as soon as you're out. Gotta go."

"Yes, sir," Richard agreed as his boss hung up.

"And here I have been telling you not to be a hero for years, and you didn't listen to me," Slade muttered in the dark.

"Don't sulk because you lost, Wilson." He wasn't surprised that the man had heard the Chief. His boss had never learned the meaning of an 'indoor voice'.

"Lost? Me? Who says?"

"Those handcuffs around your wrist?" Richard suggested smugly.

Something metallic dropped to the ground.

"Oh, come on!" the hero groaned.

Slade chuckled.

Richard gritted his teeth and raised his fists, ready to strike out at anything in the dark.

"Why so defensive?"

The words gave away something which made the young man's jaw tighten even more. "You can see?"

"I gather you can't."

The hero suddenly realized that he had just held a flash light a few moments ago and dug out his phone, feeling stupid. He felt a bit better when the light from the phone's lamp hit Slade right in the eye, making the man wince. Now Dick felt much more prepared to face him.

"Put your fists down, Richard. If I was here to attack you, you wouldn't even have seen me coming." Slade had gotten used to the light and wasn't impressed.

"Why are you here then?"

"Finally ready to listen? My, my, that didn't take long at all." The sarcasm in the man's voice was quite clear.

"Shut up."

"Thought you wanted me to talk?"

"Shu- well, then talk! Did you suddenly miss me or something?"

"Certainly. But that's not the main reason I came by. Put that damn light down. Please."

"You've learned a new word? Impressive," Richard drawled and lowered the phone, using only the screen as a light source now, as the flash light option drained the battery quicker. It would be stupid not to be able to make a call if the situation got worse.

"Cute. People want you dead."

"Not news."

"Powerful people."

"Again, not news. Nightwing has made quite a few enemi-"

"This has nothing to do with Nightwing. They want you dead."

"I don't know if you got the memo, but I've changed my alias to-"

"You as in Richard Grayson."

"Oh."

"Seems you need to take a class on making friends."

"Well, this just proves I'm doing good work," Richard shrugged.

"This means you're a sitting duck. As Nightwing you can hold your own, but on the street you're a much bigger target. And if you pull any hero trick you might give away your identity."

"I realize that," Dick muttered, secretly pleased that Slade indirectly praised him. "So what do you propose? Taking a vacation?"

The man were leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, looking relaxed. Something told Dick that Slade wasn't quite as tranquil as it seemed, though, so the young hero remained on his toes.

"As it happens, I have two tickets to Barbados," the man drawled in a way that made it obvious that he was joking.

"Oh, great, so you came to tell me that I have a price on my head and now you're going to stand by and watch the show?" Richard snorted. "You're no help, are you?"

"I would like you to remember that you said that during the next few minutes," Slade told him and straightened up a little from his slouched position.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" the younger man growled.

"It depends. Probably not."

"Just tell me."

"I sent them a message saying that you're off limits."

"Oh." That wasn't too bad. The question, however, was: "Why?"

"Because you are."

"Who says?"

"Me."

"I'm not quite comfortable with that," Richard muttered.

"You don't have to be."

"You must be a great lover," the young man snorted.

"Amazing. Why? Curious?"

"Never mind! So you suddenly decided to be overprotective; fine. Are they really going to mind this message, though?"

"Oh, they will. When they find it."

"You left it somewhere? What if it disappears?"

"Not likely."

Richard's eyes narrowed. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Oh, nothing important."

"Spill!"

"Just that it's carved into the chest of the man who was about to kill you when you left your room."

Dick was temporarily stunned by all that information, and then he sighed. "Shit, now I have to arrest you for murder."

"Would you like the handcuffs back?" Slade asked helpfully.

"Dammit, Slade! This is serious!"

"Hardly."

"I… you… I… I'm a fucking cop!" A dry inner voice told Richard that he acted like a child, stomping his feet and demanding that the adults listen to him.

"Glad to hear you provide that service. I might take advantage."

"…" After a false start, the younger man tried again. "…" And failed.

"As you seem speechless at the moment, I might as well inform you that it will be in your best interest to let me go."

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Well, that's stupid, but we'll deal with that some other time. If you 'bring me in'," Slade seemed to think that the concept was amusing, "then your colleagues would start asking me questions. Questions I would, of course, be glad to answer. About why you needed protection, for example. And how I know you."

"Asshole."

"No, but I know most of you."

Dick groaned. "I'm so glad to be stuck in an elevator with you right now," he muttered.

"Likewise, since you are going to give me an alibi. The body will most likely be found while I'm still in the building now, and they might question everyone. Luckily you and I have been together most of the day and left your room together."

"And what shall I pretend we've been doing all day?"

"How about some hot, steaming-"

"How about you're an old friend of the family, who is temporarily in town?"

"That will do. You didn't have to stress 'old', though."

"Well, you are," Richard snorted vindictively.

"Do you want to compare stamina?"

"I don't want to compare anything with you!" Dick hissed. When he saw Slade's smirk he realized what he had said and blushed.

"Don't worry, I won't say anything. Too easy," the man let him know.

"You're easy," Richard muttered childishly under his breath. The smirk growing slightly told him that Slade's sensitive hearing had picked it up. The younger man felt his ears burning. This wasn't exactly the way an adult –nonetheless a cop– should act. He felt his shoulders drop as he finally let his guard down completely, hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dammit, Slade, you can't do this!"

"What? Save your life?"

"Kill people!"

"In my defense that wasn't the plan. I came to warn you, not knowing they already hired someone else. I spotted him just before you came out the door. You were two seconds from being dead. You could say thank you."

"I'm not sure I could, from a moral perspective."

"How about from an egocentric one?"

"Not everyone thinks like you."

"I know. Most people are stupid."

Richard snorted. "You think very highly of yourself, don't you?"

"So do you, judging by the way you were ogling yourself in the mirror before."

"I was just… distracted."

"Obviously. You didn't notice a man trying to kill you –or me killing him– right outside your door. Are you getting sloppy, boy? Did I do you this favor in vain?"

"How about I pay more attention, and you stop committing crimes?"

"That would cost a bit more."

"There's a price? Name it!" Dick demanded.

Slade only snorted and then looked around. "How long does it take to get the power back on?"

"Why? Tired of spending time with me?" Richard drawled.

"I'd rather not stay too long."

"Well, it's not like it's− Wait! What did you mean by 'they had already hired someone else'?!"

"What? Oh. Well, they approached me first. Naturally."

"Why?"

"I'm good. Also the law rather disapproves of killing cops for some reason. They didn't want to send just anyone."

"How much did they offer?"

"Just thirty. You might be a cop, but you're not that important."

"If you turned them down because they were stingy-"

"You already know why I turned them down."

"Yeah, yeah, because all those mushy feelings you have towards me."

"There's nothing soft about those feelings," Slade smirked.

"You'd do me right here if I'd let you, wouldn't you?" Richard snorted.

"Actually, I'd rather get out of here, but we can reschedule really soon."

Dick studied the man for a moment, all the small signs coming together. "You really do want to get out of here, don't you?"

"Don't you?"

"Of course, but you're… antsy. Are you claustrophobic?" Dick hardly believed it himself.

"No."

"I think you are."

The man just glared at him in reply, making the young man grin.

"There's nothing wrong about having an irrational fear or two-"

"There's nothing irrational about it. How do you know the whole place isn't on fire by now? Or about to collapse? Another, bigger, earthquake might-"

Richard had long since stopped grinning. Slade kept his voice in check, his movements too, but he couldn't hide the tension. He was about to snap, and being isolated in a small space with that kind of strength and desperation wasn't something Dick wanted for Christmas.

Distraction was the answer. He still had to rise up on his toes after stepping up to the man, but lips met lips. Dick could feel the man's brain change gear just before the kiss deepened from pretty chaste to something more. Slade then took charge fully by pushing the younger man back against the opposite wall. Richard wanted to roll his eyes but let the mercenary manhandle him. Up to a certain point. When Slade went for his belt, Dick pushed him away.

"No, no, no, we're not going to have that much fun."

"Spoilsport. Alright, let's leave this place then."

Richard groaned. Did Slade only have two settings? And how did he switch between them so quickly? He saw the man eyeing the maintenance hatch in the ceiling.

"Forget it; those are sealed from the outside. You can only climb out of those in movies," he said. "Besides, being outside the elevator is a hell of a lot more dangerous than staying here."

"Fine. Let's see if we can open the doors, then," Slade concurred but only after ignoring the young man's lecture and trying the hatch anyway.

"Why don't we just call the lobby again and ask how the work is going?" Dick suggested. "It's not really been that long, you know."

Slade wasn't listening; he was prying the doors apart. It got a tiny bit brighter as it turned out that the elevator had gotten stuck just as it was about to leave a floor. The gap between that floor and the ceiling of the elevator was small, though. Barely enough to get a head through.

"Well, that's it, then, we're not getting out there, and if the elevator starts moving it would be suicide anyway," Richard said. The reinforced mirror got a huge, star shaped crack as Slade's fist connected to it. "That's mature," he added.

"If I can't take out my frustration one way, I'll do it the other."

"Well, I'd rather you fuck up the mirror than me right now," Dick admitted. "Let me call them again, okay?"

After getting through to the desk, they finally got a time frame. One hour. That and the tiny view of the hallway outside seemed to make Slade relax although Richard had a feeling that he was counting the minutes.

Dick decided to distract him with friendly small talk, and over the next sixty-two minutes, they reconnected a surprising lot. Slade seemed to feel the need to be moving around, so he did that, including constantly changing positions. Richard noticed that he was also touching him quite a bit. Not in a purely sexual way, just a brush there and a hand on an arm or a shoulder in passing. They both startled when the lights suddenly turned on.

The elevator doors slowly closed again, screeching in protest as they did so.

"If you damaged them so they won't open when we get down, you only have yourself to blame," Richard told the man, who just muttered something gruffly in response. As they were almost on their floor, Dick added, "Well, this phobia of yours was an interesting little detail to find out about you. Let's never to go on a submarine ride together, okay?" he joked.

"I can recommend another type of ride, though," Slade told him, stepping close again.

"I'm sure you can," Richard said and held up a hand, pushing it against the man's chest. "Not here, not now."

"I like how that's not a no."

Dick groaned inwardly. He knew that if he said no, a definite no, Slade would back off and never approach the subject again. And even though he was dealing with someone who had just killed, had no regard for the law and was more than a bit of a bastard… he still kinda wanted him. At least once. Just to get some sort of closure. And out of curiosity.

"I'm going to Gotham for Christmas," the young man suddenly heard himself say. "But what are you doing for new years?"

"You?" It was only just a question.

Richard smirked. "Yes."

The End

A/N: the wish was for an elevator story with mostly conversation and a kiss at the most… ;) No naughty things. Never wanted to write smut so badly in my life! ;)

Oh, I actually OPENED "The Good Boy" file yesterday. Just opened it. But it's a start.