Random new habits or quirks weren't anything he hadn't run into before with a night job like being Batman. Nothing seemed like it was out of the ordinary or the realm of possibilities.
Waking up buck ass naked face down and diagonal across his own bed was a new one. At least, new in the fact that he was alone, hadn't been drunk in weeks, and absolutely certain that wasn't how he had gone to bed.
Sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of his bed, he found his pajamas in a crumpled pile as though they had been kicked off like a blanket on a warm summer night. Hopefully meaning that is what had happened and he hadn't wandered through the calls in a naked sleepwalking state.
Because right now that would be a problem.
Barbara was staying at Wayne Manor for the week. Most of her neighbors were pleasant. Ranging from coffee house beatniks to yuppies who wore socks with their Birkenstocks (ironically, of course) to retirees who turned into instant apartment building grandmas (like Mrs. Kalacek in 4B who insisted on giving containers of homemade soup to whichever resident she happened to see and think they weren't getting enough protein. Last time it was lentil soup with too much garlic. Barbara had admonished to Bruce that she had never thought too much garlic was even possible). But one unnamed tenant somewhere didn't see the connection between pests and garbage that hadn't been taken out. For a length of time that was also unnamed.
The result was one eviction and one embarrassed landlord that had to send fifteen other notices that the apartments were at increased risk of cockroaches, mice, and God knows what else. So there was to be a scheduled fumigation, and her temporary relocation of choice was one floor below where he currently sat hoping he stayed secluded when his brain had decided not to record to memory whatever it had him do.
He made himself decent (pajama bottoms, robe) and made his way toward the breakfast room. It was once a large office near the kitchen but had been converted to a small dining room when a 14 year old Dick Grayson had commented that two people eating in the large dining room at a table that sat 24 was just weird. Now, whenever there was a casual company for breakfast, that was where Alfred served. Because he no longer desired to gallivant across the entire estate for each individual person to have their own lidded plate. Alfred's own words, which Bruce had smirked at but made no comment.
Alfred had no sooner sat the steaming cup of coffee in front of Bruce before a wild tornado of red hair rushed into the room and grabbed a muffin from the table.
She stopped short when she caught Bruce's gaze from over his newspaper. She turned a slight shade of pink, drew in a shaky breath, and rested her hand at the side of her neck in an odd moment of nervousness.
"Sorry, can't stay," the words tumbled out of her mouth quickly. "Early class, and I overslept." Her eyes darted to Alfred before returning her attention to Bruce. "We need to talk about that conversation we had. After patrol last night? But not now. When I get back." She paused and then grabbed a pear from the table as well before dashing out the doorway once more.
"Miss Gordon is in quite the state this morning." Alfred raised an eyebrow.
Bruce furrowed his brow. "Apparently so. I wonder what else she's thought of about the Mad Hatter."
Their post-patrol rundown had mostly consisted of theories on what Jervis Tetch's ultimate goal had been before it was thwarted by Batman and Batgirl. There wasn't much to go on. He had a minimal amount of his regular tech but for some reason had gathered a dusty bag of gift ribbons. He was apprehended in less than 20 minutes and then sent back to Arkham.
Bruce didn't see her again until after that night's patrol, at which point Barbara sighed, said she didn't have the energy for that conversation, and postponed it to the next day. And then the day after that when events seemed to duplicate themselves.
By the 5th day, Bruce had to order her to take a break because it seemed like she was going to run herself ragged keeping whatever schedule she had kept for herself.
He, on the other hand, had never felt so refreshed. His combined schedules never allowed him much sleep, but the quality of what sleep he did get seemed to be at least better than the average. When he thought about it, he wondered if it had anything to do with his new habit of a nocturnal dislike of attire.
Waking up on day 6 brought new proverbial light to exactly how far his new habits went.
The first thing he noticed was that this time, he wasn't alone. His head rested next to a pale back of a knee with his left hand wrapped around the calf below it. His right arm was extended up to where his hand rested on the equally pale ass attached to the pair of legs he had slept beside.
He couldn't help but notice that the legs were parted enough to give him a great view of the glistening pink between those legs, still swollen and moist from what had to be a very active night of sex.
Blood rushed to his groin and the morning firmness he was used to awoke with new vigor. He tried to chastise himself for reacting that way when he had no memory of how he got there, but a libido that went from zero to gimme in two seconds wasn't helping anything.
Looking further up, the pile of red hair deflated his excitement by half. Although, he noted sardonically, not completely.
As he tried to gently release Barbara from his grasp, he noted a number of pink lines dragged across her back. And a bruise across her left hip that, when compared to his hand, was a near perfect fit. One that had clearly been there for more than just a few hours.
When he shifted his weigh on the bed and started to drag his arm from under her leg, she stretched and rolled over, grinning down at him from under fluttering eyelashes.
"Listen," she smirked before stretching her arms above her head with a whine. "If you want another round so early this morning, you might have to be on top this time. I think my legs plan on staying jello until at least noon."
Her right arm rested across her eyes and her right knee bent up into the air, giving him a more uninhibited view of her pussy. It was tantalizingly close. If he were to just lean forward…
His eyes darted back up to her face before moving slowly back down to the front of her body. More bruises. But indistinct. No hand prints. No way to tell if they were from him or from a fight during patrol.
But under her left breast, teeth marks. A bite just below the nipple. Dark purple but just hazy at the edges. Two, maybe three days old.
Another whine escaped her lips, this time needy in tone, as she arched herself up to wrap her arms around his shoulders, nuzzling her face into his jaw.
"I'm sore, but you can still touch me." She grazed her teeth just below his jawline. "I'm okay with this kinda sore."
He groaned as he lost his resolve. He palmed her right breast as he shifted above her, running the flat of his tongue up her collar bone and mouthing the side of her neck. He tasted salt from long dried sweat.
"Mmm…" her chest rumbled with content. "The things you can do with your mouth. I never knew…"
He leaned her back onto the bed, her right leg coming up to hook around his hip as his lips started to travel down toward her chest. Another groan escaped his lips when she ground her hips up toward him, and his dick brushed past her mound. He forced himself to stop, taking a few deep breaths and being met with the smell of sweat, sex, and sweet vanilla.
A primal growl came from above his head and before he could look to her face, Barbara had him flipped and was now straddling his hips, the lips of her pussy dragging over the head of his dick. With a hand at the back of his neck, she pulled him to her, kissing him with a passion he briefly realized he hadn't felt in a while.
Her other hand wrapped around his dick and angled it into her wet folds before slowing sinking down onto it. He moaned into her mouth and grabbed her hips as tight as he could, firmly pulling her down the rest of the way and thrusting up as hard as he could in his position.
She felt amazing. Smoothly enveloping his hardness with a slight quiver as they continued to move. A definite tell that she was already well on her way to orgasm. He hadn't been with anyone so reactive in… well, ever.
All words left his train of thought as mewling noises began to emanate from her throat, and she ground down on him harder. She had to feel his fingernails now digging into her hips, but she made no change in her continuing movements.
She broke her lips free of his to pull her teeth firmly down on his neck, her throaty whimpers joining the wet sound of their bodies coming together in consistent rhythm until her hips suddenly jerked forward, and she bit down, causing him to let loose his own groan from deep inside his chest. He could feel wetness leaking from within her, but he had no clue how much was her or how much had come from him. He wasn't sure he had ever came that hard before.
She gasped at his neck for a few minutes as he enjoyed the press of her weight on his chest. When oxygen had finally returned to her brain, she whimpered out a breathy apology.
"I didn't mean to *bite* you," she kissed over his neck. "But it felt so good… and you've been biting me all week. It's only fair I get one in, too. I'm glad you finally stayed last night."
With his libido sated and his brain with current dibs on his body's blood supply, he released his grip on her hips, and gently rested his hands on her back.
"Barbara…" his voice was hoarse.
"Mm?"
"How did I get here?"
Her head shot up, and he felt another tingle of arousal shoot through his core as she moved against him.
"What?" Her eyes were wide and panicked.
"I… don't remember coming to your room last night," he had just noticed that this was in fact not his room. So he had been walking the halls in the nude.
"But… you've been here every night since I came to stay…" her voice slowly became a whisper as she tensed. "I mean… you left after…" She pulled away from him and wrapped a sheet around herself.
"I'm sorry." He sighed and pulled a pillow into his lap.
She was hunched over with her hands in her hair, seemingly collecting her thoughts. She combed her fingers roughly through the tangles before looking up at him and immediately away.
"Tell me how this started."
She swallowed audibly but didn't look back to him. "The night we got Tetch. After we left the cave… we both went to bed. Or… I thought that's where you went, too. And then you were here. I thought there was something else about the case… but then…" She took this moment to glance at him quickly.
"I found my clothes on my floor that morning." He looked around what he could see of her room but didn't see them.
"We… didn't fully undress that night. Just… you know, enough. I normally just wear an oversized shirt… But every night since, you came naked."
"What explanation did I give you?"
She tensed. "You… didn't. You never said *anything* to me. Just went for it. I mean, I was shocked the first night. That's why I wanted to talk the next day, but… I overslept and…"
"Didn't want to say anything in front of Alfred." He finished her thought for her, and she nodded. "And the nights since?"
"It was… exciting. I'm not sure what I was really thinking, but it was good sex. And I haven't had that in a long time so… gift horses and whatnot." She flipped her hand in the air like it was a perfect explanation. "Last night you went to leave again, but I somehow got you to stay."
"I enjoyed it as well," he kept his voice soft, and her eyes finally met his with a hint of confusion. "Uh… this morning… I don't remember the other times." He ran a hand along the back of his neck and looked away from her. "I'll take your word as to how good it all was…"
"So…" she took a deep breath and blew it out roughly between her lips. "Is sleep sex a new thing of yours? This never happened when I stayed here before."
"I'll run a tox screen on myself," he sighed. "This is not normal for me. I'm guessing that first night you were here is when it started, but I'm not sure why."
He'd never done a walk of shame in his own house before, but there were first times for everything. At least her on-suite bathroom had the large towels so he didn't have to do it completely in the nude. When he had redressed in his room and then passed through the breakfast room to grab his coffee, Alfred made no indication he disapproved of the morning's happenings, but he also made no acknowledgement that anything was out of the ordinary. Bruce surmised that he must know. The man knew everything that happened within the walls of the manor.
Drawing his own blood in the cave was never one of his favorite activities, but he'd done it so often that it was nearly second nature. He started the process of a few general analyses, and then prepared a slide for microscope appraisal. He was just sliding it into place when Barbara cautiously stood at the lab's doorway.
"Anything?" Her voice was soft and apprehensive.
"I'm still working on it." He noticed the hickies on her neck were now covered with makeup. One advantage to their line of work being the skill to expertly cover bruises of all kinds.
He returned his gaze to the microscope viewpoint and swore under his breath.
"What?" Her eyes went wide with concern.
"Nanites."
She scrunched her nose before clarity hit. "Tetch. That dusty bag. Was that his plan? That's… a little outside his normal wheelbase."
The full explanation was embarrassing more than anything.
Batman drew from Tetch that he had miniaturized his brain control. His new nanites were programed and then introduced to the host. Where they survived for about a week. So neutralizing them wasn't much of an issue.
The nanites in question had been programed to control Alice, which was no surprise to anyone. The programing was to activate when she fell asleep, causing her to seek out Tetch, a coworker that she had a friendly connection with but hadn't thought of in a romantic sense. A parallel to Bruce and Barbara.
Although, how quickly Barbara accepted his hypnotized advances was something he hadn't expected. She hadn't been infected by the nanites, but she quickly dismissed the thought that it was anything but consensual when he nodded toward his actions bordering sexual assault.
"I know how to take down guys bigger than me," she jutted her chin up in defiance. "Even you. I've won some of our sparring matches. And you weren't in control anyway."
His eyes glanced down to her fingers wrapped around the tumbler of coffee she'd brought down to the cave when he'd returned from Arkham with the new information. They were tensed, lightly tapping a nonsense pattern. He could tell she was nervous but trying to hide it.
"Still." He squared his shoulders. "I'm sorry."
She shrugged and smiled coyly, tilting her hips as she turned to walk from him. "You said you were sleeping better this week, right?"
"Yeah…" he drew out, wondering where that thought had come from.
"Maybe we can use that to our advantage." She smirked quickly before burying her face in her drink, leaving him there with a shocked look on his face.
It took him longer than it should have to follow after her, smile slowly spreading onto his face.
