Zatanna
Shadowcrest

"Scream all you want, you're still going on a diet."

"Moww, rrrr, merrow." Asshole glared his Asshole glare at her as she cleaned up and refurnished the parlor, humming every tune she could think of. June sat quietly in the corner, watching her work her way around the room. Bruce was coming over after work to set her up with new living arrangements in a safe location – the bargain for helping get her home safe. She felt guilty, but he had refused to let her help with the cost.

"How big is this house?" June asked.

"That's a good question. As big as it wants to be, I guess. It kind of changes a lot."

"It seemed to be trying to keep me comfortable while I was here."

Zatanna laughed lightly. "It can be a good host...when it wants to be."

"And if it doesn't want to be?"

"I'd have a bigger mess to clean up than this," she mumbled. She felt fortunate to have the house, but it could be a handful sometimes. "My friends think it's creepy."

"They just haven't gotten to know it," June smiled. Zee was surprisingly at ease around her odd house guest. When she wasn't summoning her rage-witch alter ego, she was quite pleasant.

"Hey, I noticed Constantine's jaw was busted up yesterday. What happened there?" She had a sneaking suspicion she knew who had caused it, but wanted confirmation.

"Bruce punched him. Got him in the stomach, too. I thought he was going to kill him."

She smiled and nodded. "He wouldn't have. Not that he doesn't deserve it."

"I was surprised he came back."

"He had to," Zee said, sitting down on the couch as she finished reconstructing the room.

"You made him swear, too? I thought it was his idea to do all of this in the first place."

"No, I put a sobriety spell on him. If he didn't help me get through it, he wouldn't have been able to drink again."

"That's why he came back? What a piece of shit."

"Yeah, well...we all have our vices. And motivations." She looked down at her hands as she spoke.

"What's yours?" June asked quietly.

"My vice or my motivation?"

"Both."

She thought for a long moment about the first. "Vice? I'm addicted to magic."

June laughed when she said it, but she was dead serious. She'd lived her life as if magic was just a tool to be used...like a toothbrush or a kitchen utensil. It was more than that. It was sacred and precious. The older she got, the more she understood the things her father had tried to teach her. It's why she had killed the beasts in the other dimension. It's why saving three lives there meant more than preserving her own. Magic must be respected, protected, and nourished, lest it wither and die.

"Zatanna?" June pulled her back out of her thoughts. "What about your motivation?"

"Redemption," she said quietly. As she did, she felt Bruce enter her bedroom through the Zeta tube. "He's here. Do you have all of your things?"

"Yes," she said, standing and walking to the door. "Thank you for being so kind to me."

"Thank you for helping. And for keeping me company today."

Bruce walked down the stairs and met her in the hallway, pulling her close and kissing her more passionately than was probably appropriate with someone else in the house. She finally had to push him back to catch her breath. He grinned devilishly at her as she did before seeming to remember why he was there. She led him to the front door where June was waiting.

"Are you ready? Zee's going to transport you directly to the airport in case anyone's watching."

"Yes. Thank you both again. I don't know what you could possibly be seeking redemption for, Zatanna, but I hope you find it. We could all three use a little peace."

She could feel Bruce studying her as June spoke, but didn't look up at him. More questions to answer later.

"Here's your ticket and new documentation. There will be a car waiting for you in Denver. Leave everything behind if you want to stay hidden."

"I will. Thank you." She took a step back toward the door as Zatanna held her hand up.

"Goodbye, June Moone. Enuj ot tropria."

Bruce's arms were quickly around her as soon as they were alone, and he kissed her neck as she let her head fall to the side.

"How are you feeling?" He asked between kisses.

"Tired. But glad to be home."

"Wanna go upstairs and rest? I have a couple of hours before work." His lips were still working their way along her skin.

"I wanna go upstairs, but rest isn't want I had in mind," she said, turning in his arms and pulling his mouth to hers. He sighed and lifted her gently, carrying her up to the room and putting her down on the bed. "C'mere," she said after he had been standing and staring at her for a while.

- "He doesn't want you."

She shook her head slightly and fought the urge to speak back. Bruce didn't seem to notice as he gave her a lop-sided grin and crawled over her, rolling them until she was laying on top of him. His erection quickly proved the voice in her head wrong, and she reached down and stroked him through his pants.

"Fuck, I missed you," he said as he ran his hands along her back and shoulders. She looked up at him and smiled.

"After a week and a half?"

"Mmm...week and a half. Day and a half. Hour and a half." He pulled her mouth down to his and fogged her brain with his tongue. She fumbled with his tie and buttons until finally working his shirt off so she could feel his skin. His smell...his scars...home. He made short work of her clothes and pulled her against him. She could feel his muscles tense as he ran his hands over her back. When she looked up, he was frowning slightly.

"What?"

"I feel like I'm going to break you," he said, running a finger along one of her ribs.

She tried to give him a reassuring smile. "Alfred sent leftovers home with me. I'll be back to normal in no time." He nodded slightly, but the frown was still stuck on his face as he touched her. Raising an eyebrow, she started to move down his body, kissing his chest and stomach. "I'm going to need grumpy Bruce to take a break for a little bit."

"I'm not grumpy, I'm worried," he grumped. She smiled and licked at the scar below his belly button as she worked his pants and boxers off of his hips.

"Ah, I see," she said, letting her tongue run a slow circle around his tip. "So, should I just stop and go grab some food instead?" He growled quietly and tangled his hand in her hair as she took him in her mouth. After stroking him with her lips and tongue a few times, she pulled her head back. "Wouldn't want you to worry."

He looked at her with dark eyes and shook his head. "Don't you dare fucking stop."

Bruce
Shadowcrest

She didn't stop. After letting him come in her mouth, she had kissed and licked and stroked him until he was hard again. What she was lacking in body weight, she made up for in energy, riding him until they came together and collapsed in a panting, sweating heap.

"I guess that's one way to drive the voices away," she mumbled into his neck as she caught her breath. He was still uneasy knowing that she had lingering psychological after effects from what she had been through, even though she seemed willing to joke about it.

"Probably more enjoyable than my singing," he said, trying to stay non-grumpy.

"I actually enjoyed both," she said. "You can sing to and/or fuck me anytime you want."

"I don't think combining the two would be a good idea," he laughed.

"Don't knock it till you try it. A little Marvin Gaye..."

He laughed again as he rolled her onto her back and pinned her down. Looking into her eyes, he tried to gauge her mood. "Still not ready to talk?" He asked as gently as he could. As her body tensed, he immediately felt guilty.

"What do you want to know?" She asked, looking up at the ceiling. He got the distinct impression she didn't really want to tell him anything, but any opening had to be taken advantage of with her.

"What are you hearing?" She immediately recoiled and winced as he asked. He kissed her jawline and ran a hand through her hair, hoping to get her to relax and open up. "And what happened during the fight?"

After a few quiet minutes, she finally spoke. "We got help from some friends I wasn't expecting." He continued to kiss her gently as encouragement. "I guess 'friends' isn't the right word. Allies."

"Who?"

"The Phantom Stranger came. Constantine got him to help somehow."

"Constantine came back?" This was surprising, considering the way he slithered away after the punch to the gut.

"Yeah, he pretty much had to. Sure has hell wasn't because he gave a shit. Thanks for breaking his jaw for me."

He nodded and went back to kissing her neck. "Who else?"

"Dr. Fate."

He jerked his head up and looked at her. "He fought?"

"Yes. You must be the mysterious friend he was referring to. He said you asked for his help."

"Not to fight. I just wanted him to help me get you back after you won."

"I wouldn't have won without him. Spectre and I were about 30 seconds from death when they showed up."

Raising up, he looked in her eyes. "Then I'm very glad he did more than I asked." As he finished speaking, his alarm started to sound. She was officially off the hook for telling him more and her body started to relax again. "Thank you for talking to me." A little.

Leaning forward and kissing him, she nodded and smiled. "Be safe, Batman."

"Always," he said, getting up and gathering his clothes. "Will you be able to sleep?"

"Yes. Sleep hasn't been a problem. I'll eat some leftovers and listen to some music while Asshole screams at me."

He laughed. "He's so fat. I think he gained all of the weight you lost."

"Not quite, but I think he has me beat in the percentages game. Guess he'd just eat himself to death like a goldfish if I let him."

The cat huffed at them from the corner where he'd been sleeping, but he'd have to live with the ridicule until he got back to normal. Once he was dressed, Bruce looked back to Zee sitting on the bed and humming softly again. It didn't seem right to just ignore everything and fall back into routine, but she wasn't giving him a lot of options yet. He also couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that something else was off with her. It could have just been paranoia, but his instincts were rarely wrong...especially when it came to Zatanna.

"Need anything?" He asked, knowing she wouldn't tell him if she did.

"Another kiss?"

"If you insist," he said, leaning forward. She put her arms around his neck and held him there for a long time, soft lips moving against his. "Come sleep at home tonight so I can see you in the morning?"

Nodding, she let her hands drop back to the bed as he walked away. He let his mind start to drift to work as he stepped into the Zeta tube. He had a serial killer to hunt and no major distractions now.

No more deaths.

GCPD

"Jennifer Franks. 23 years old, working on her master's degree in early childhood development."

Most serial killers built their resumes slowly. As they honed their skills, their taste for killing would increase along with their confidence. It was how most got caught, eventually. They would become so confident that they would get cocky...make mistakes, taunt the police or the press. This killer was different. He was racking up victims at a rate usually reserved for killers who were close to being caught; who started throwing caution to the wind in a desperate attempt to feed their appetite before they went down. But this man was cautious. He wasn't flailing and he wasn't desperate.

"Taken?"

"Saturday night. Dumped last night around 3-5 am."

Right under my fucking nose.

"What else?"

Gordon handed him the case files as he uncovered the body. "See for yourself." He looked down at the latest victim. Everything was the same. Age, height, hair color, build...even the wound patterns. "I've heard of having an MO, but this is over the top."

"I'd say putting 'obsessive compulsive' at the top of the list of characteristics wouldn't be a stretch," Batman said, scanning the body for evidence he knew he wouldn't find. "What do your psych people say?"

"That they can't figure out his motivation. Usually it's pretty obvious: hatred of women, hatred of self, hatred of mother...the usuals."

"But not this one?"

"Not that they can tell. The killings, despite seeming brutal, are devoid of the passion you would normally see from that kind of killer. There's nothing disordered or chaotic about them...as you can see."

Bruce sighed and handed the case files back to the commissioner. "So, I'm on the hunt for a well-programmed killer robot?"

"Seems that way. I'll let you know if we find anything else. You want to run your own tissue and blood tests, I'm guessing." He handed him a small evidence box.

"Thanks, Jim. And I'm sorry. I feel like I've dropped the ball on this."

"Yours aren't the only eyes on it. There's nothing to go on yet. We'll get him. Just keep me in the loop and I'll do the same."

"Of course." He headed back down to the garage and got in the Batmobile. "Fuck!" He pounded his fist into the steering wheel as he sat. Six victims. Six young women whose lives were cut short. "And I'm still at goddamn square one." He fired up the engine and drove quickly to the area where Jennifer Franks's body had been dumped. Despite the muddy ground from the recently-melted snow, no footprints could be found at the site. No tire tracks. Her body had been carefully wrapped in a blanket and deposited at the base of a tree. No real attempt to hide her.

Make it make sense, detective.

He knew who he wanted to call in on this, but couldn't bring himself to dial the number. Not after everything. Instead, he put his hand to his ear.

"Barb? Can you run some analyses for me? There's been another murder."

"Damn it. Of course, boss. Just send whatever you have my way." He climbed back into the car and uploaded the tissue and blood samples to the computer. "Okay, I'm getting everything now. I'll let you know when results start to come in."

"Thanks. I'll be running extra patrols around Gotham U until this guy's caught. I'll need the rest of you to do the same."

"You've got it."

He turned and headed toward the campus. There were already police patrols running in 15 minute circuits down every street, but the killer had still somehow found a way to snatch someone. It was too much. Too many.

No. More.

Zatanna
Shadowcrest

She wasn't normally one for big changes in the house or spring cleaning, but the last year had been far from normal. Hell, it wasn't even spring yet, but something in her was desperate for a change to her environment. Probably the whole dying and coming back to life and going to Hell bullshit. Standing in her bedroom, she looked around at the decorations. Nothing had been changed since her father died. There still wouldn't be anything changing with his room. She had locked it and not stepped foot inside since he died. Here, though? Major makeover time. With a wave of her hand, the colors changed from red and black to light blue and yellow.

Perfect.

Humming along with the stereo, she moved to the bathroom and changed the fixtures, widened the bathtub, and put in a separate double shower stall.

"Mrrrrrrr." Asshole complained from the doorway.

"Yeah, yeah. You don't like anything I do. I get it. Feel free to find another place to live where nothing ever changes and they feed you until you burst."

"Mrr." He ran back out and plopped down on her pillow, making sure it would be thoroughly fuzz-covered by bedtime.

"Fine. Not sleeping here, anyway," she muttered. The dining room was up next. As she moved the furniture around, someone crossed the wards and rang her doorbell. It was an energy she wasn't expecting and it made her hands start to shake as she walked to the door. Opening it, she met his eyes.

"Hey, Zatanna," Deon said, leaning heavily on a cane and giving her a small smile. With a gasp, she stepped forward and threw her arms around him, causing him to groan and stumble.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry," she said, stepping back and reaching out to try to support him. "Please, come in."

He limped forward, still leaning on the cane. She ushered him to the nearest chair in the study and he sat and groaned again. Nervously, she sat down across from him and snapped to turn the music off.

"Deon, I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." She could feel the tears running down her cheeks as he stared at the floor.

"No, Zatanna, I'm sorry," he said in a quiet voice. "You came to see me and I sent you away."

"I shouldn't have gone there. I know you must hate me for what I did."

He finally looked up at her and furrowed his brow. "Why would I hate you?"

"You were hurt because of me. If I hadn't..."

"Hadn't what? You didn't do this. Hell, I don't even know what did this, but you were hurt, too. I couldn't protect you. I thought you were dead. When the nurse said you were there...I didn't think it could even be you. And then she gave me the flowers and..." His voice trailed off and he looked back down at the floor.

- "You did this to him."

"I know."

"Know what?" He asked, looking back up at her.

"Um...know that you're in a lot of pain." Control your mouth, Zee.

"Oh. It's not that bad most days. Just hurts to walk."

- "Selfish bitch."

She stood quickly and held out her hands. "Stand. I need to do something."

"What?" Her sudden demand had him staring at her like she was crazy. I am.

"Stand a second. Please."

With effort, Deon rose to his feet and leaned on his cane. Zatanna walked forward and put her hands on his shoulders. This was more than she had tried to do in the past, but she needed to make amends...no matter the cost.

"Laeh mih. Ekat sih niap." The light engulfed him and he gasped as her magic flowed through his body. It took several minutes before the light finally faded. She closed her eyes and breathed heavily as her body protested the surge it took to heal old wounds and scars while fading his memory of the pain enough that he would eventually forget it. When she regained her bearings, she opened her eyes to see his shocked face. He was standing tall now, no longer hunched or leaning. The cane had dropped to the floor and the scars had faded from his arms and neck.

"How...what happened?" He took a cautious step forward and laughed. "Holy shit. What a freaky dream."

She smiled and stepped forward to grab his hand. "No dream. I'm sorry I couldn't do it sooner. You deserve better than to live in pain."

"You...you can do that? I mean actually..." His eyes were wide as he looked at her, clearly not convinced that what he was feeling was real. It made her feel even worse about what she had done to him. He'd lived with the pain for so many months that it had become the most prominent part of his life. Without warning, he pulled her to him and kissed her, lifting her body and spinning her around. When he lowered her back to the floor, she gently pushed him away.

"Don't suppose I could convince you to let me take you on that date now, could I? We never did get one right." He asked with a smile on his face.

"Deon, I..."

"You're seeing someone," he said, the smile fading slightly into a more forced grin. "No surprise. Only a fool would send you away."

- "Only a fool would stay."

"I need to ask you to do something," she said, trying to change the subject and silence the voice. "Don't tell anyone about this."

"Uh...I think people are going to notice I'm not hunched over like a 90 year old anymore."

"Lie, then. Please. Tell them you tried some experimental stem cell treatment or CBD oil or some other bullshit." He laughed at her seemingly-insane request, but nodded.

"Okay. I guess it's worth it to be able to walk upright again. No one's going to believe me no matter what I tell them. I don't even believe it," he said, pacing around the room. "Now, can I ask you to do something?"

"Of course," she said, still holding onto his hand.

"If this guy you're seeing is a bigger idiot than me and sends you away...call me." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead gently before letting her hand go and heading toward the door. "Zatanna? Thank you. That doesn't seem like enough, but I mean it."

"You're welcome. And take care of yourself, please. Go find some girl that's less prone to getting into trouble."

He grinned back at her. "Sounds boring as hell."

Bruce
Wayne Manor

Another night of no progress. The killer seemed to know exactly when to move and exactly when to hide. The guy was a goddamn ghost. Bruce had patrolled an extra hour, but he knew the killer wouldn't strike in daylight; he just felt the need to be out there longer...anything to give him some sense of control. All it had done was make him sleepier. As he trudged up the steps to the bedroom, he heard music coming from the theater room. More movies. He felt a twinge of guilt for leaving her for so long, but when he walked into the room, he found Zatanna sprawled out on her back and snoring as the title screen to One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest played on endless repeat. Smiling, he lowered himself to stretch out on top of her, burying his face in her neck as she sighed and wrapped her arms around him.

"Mmm...heavy," she mumbled. He didn't move. "Really heavy. Gorilla."

"You're taking up the whole couch, so deal with it," he mumbled back.

"Moordeb." With the usual dropping feeling his stomach always got when she transported him, they reappeared on the bed. She pushed against his shoulders, so he moved his weight off of her just enough to get to her to stop complaining.

"I guess I don't need to ask if you slept," he said, turning her head and kissing her gently until she opened her eyes and smiled.

"Told you, sleep's no problem."

"And waking?" Her smile faded and his heart ached. "Tell me."

"No. But I will tell you something that happened yesterday." She raised an eyebrow and studied him as he considered her offer...and avoidance.

"Okay."

"Deon Scott came to see me."

Great. Another ex. Willing his face to stay neutral, he ran a hand through her hair and considered his words. "How is he?"

"Better than he was when he knocked on my door," she grinned at him and brushed her lips against his again.

"I take it you worked a little hocus pocus on him?"

"Mm hmm." Her lips were still on his, tongue flicking out to tease him. His mind went back to what June had said before she left.

"Redemption," he said, pulling his head back and studying her face. She narrowed her eyes and rolled onto her back. "It wasn't..."

"My fault, yeah yeah. I'm getting really sick of people saying that to me, you know. If people are getting hurt or dying around me...because of me, it's my goddamn fault." She quickly pulled away from him and got out of bed, grabbing her shoes and putting them on.

"Where are you going?" He sat up and tried to adjust to the sudden, violent mood change.

"The gym."

"Get back in bed. It's not even 8:00."

"No. I don't care what time it is." She walked to the door, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Stop, damn it." He trapped her arms behind her back and walked her to the bed as she struggled.

"Get your hands off of me," she said.

"You're pissed off for no reason. Calm the fuck down." When she looked up at him, her eyes were glowing and her jaw was clinched. He backed her to the bed and moved both hands into his left. "You wanna be pissed? Take it out on me." She was shaking and the glow was intensifying. "Calm. The fuck. Down."

"Let me go," she hissed through her clinched teeth.

"No." He used his right hand to pull the shirt up and over her head. "You want to burn energy, fuck me."

"Tel em og!"

His hand shot away from her wrists and he took an involuntary step back. "Zatanna..."

"Tis!"

He turned and sat down on the bed, grunting as he tried to fight the spells she was spitting at him.

"Eit sih smra."

"Don't you fucking..." His hands and arms were suddenly being wrapped by the bed sheet, weaving its way from his fingers to his elbows. "Goddamn it." This one will be a little harder to get out of.

"Sehtolc ffo." She stood staring at him with her glowing eyes, breathing heavily. "If you try to get loose, I'll tie you tighter." He'd never seen her like this and he hated how much his cock was throbbing as she glared at him. Not having his hands free was going to be torture...and she knew it. She turned around and threw her shirt off of her arm, pacing in front of the door with her fists clinched. She'd told him once what would happen if she ever lost control and it seemed as if she were fighting to maintain it now.

"Think I'm scared of you, little witch?" Control is overrated. He heard her take a deep, huffing breath before she turned around, eyes even brighter and light coming from her fingertips. She threw her hands forward and before he knew what had happened, his arms were over his head, still wrapped, and bound to the headboard.

"Call me that again and you'll fucking pay."

"All talk so far," he growled.

"Gag mih."

Fuck.

She waved her hand and her panties disappeared before she walked to the bed and straddled him. She lowered herself down, arched her back, and let out a loud moan. Rocking her hips, she opened her eyes and looked down at him. "Gag ffo."

"Fuck you," he said, thrusting up into her as she rocked. She smiled and licked her lips.

"Don't make me put it back on."

"Hands?"

"Hell no. Shut up." He laughed as she set her pace, digging her fingernails into his chest. "Sorry."

"Did you seriously just apologize while you're fucking me? Christ, Zee, you..."

"Gag mih."

Shit

To be continued…

*I'll be vacationing next week and off grid, so no uploads. I'll try to get 42 up before I go, but work is INSANE! Still writing, though! Always.