Author's Note: Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews, for reading and favoriting and following and for reaching out to me on tumblr! I'm so touched by all the support and I hope you continue to enjoy this with me! I wish I could reply to the reviews, but a lot of them are anonymous and I don't like this site's PM system— it's so clunky and awkward to me. But I really appreciate your kindness, especially those who comment chapter by chapter. Literally the highlight of my day.

Just a heads up, this chapter opens up with pure smut. And another heads up: the fated Beach Party is coming soon. Very soon. And yes, it will be Significant. We're a little over halfway through the story now. Please, don't be afraid to talk to me! You can send me an ask or message on my tumblr (marzannaruza). This story is also on AO3, so if you prefer reading there, you can find it under the username marzana.

P.S. I tend to leave more author's notes on AO3, and just because I feel like this is important: I totally imagine Jason as Benicio del Toro in the 90s because he has that PERFECTLY handsome, rugged, I-literally-don't-sleep kind of look. Like, I just love it.

I hope you enjoy!


She's back the next night, a shy little smile on her pretty face, and she walks inside like a cat looking for cream.

He grabs her ass and has her against the wall in a second.

She laughs instead of kissing him so he bites her lip and sucks it into his mouth, until he misses the taste of her and slides his tongue against hers.

With her, instead of being sinful it's almost languid, full of slow-burning heat and sweet cream, and then he pushes his hips hard into hers and she does it back and then he sits her down on his bed without ever letting go, the sugar of her pouring into his veins.

He might die again if he doesn't have her.

He gestures at her breast plate and she takes it off. He gestures to her top and she takes it off, too, until he's staring at her perfect cleavage and pushing her tits together, filling his hands with them, watching how they fit so perfectly.

"This, too," he mutters before falling to his knees and kissing the top of her chest, but he's already reaching for the hook of her bra and ripping it off of her.

He grabs one of her breasts and licks her nipple with the flat of his tongue before taking it into his mouth, pressing his palm into her back when she arches it with a gasp of him name.

He uses his other hand to drag her skirt up, his knuckles grazing over her underwear, teasing. He pops his mouth off her nipple and licks his lips, circling his thumb over it. She whimpers.

He leans back in and bites at the underside of her breast, just enough to make it red, before he comes back around and sinks his teeth into her nipple.

That's when she starts rolling her hips and thats when he starts drooling 'cause when has he had something that looked this delicious? He cups her pussy into his palm and lets her grind down on him, her arms wrapped around his neck and her fingers wrapped in his hair.

He squeezes her so hard that she squeals, but it makes her stop.

"Jason," she huffs, and he laughs at how pissed she looks.

"Yeah, baby?" he smirks up at her.

She scowls so deeply it kinda scares him.

Except he's harder now than he was a second ago, staring in awe at the way her eyes are glowing green and like she could honest to god kill him anytime she wants, but out of the kindness of her gold heart, she doesn't.

He hooks his fingers into the elastic of her underwear and pulls it off.

"Just wanted you to get more comfortable."

She smiles.

He spreads her legs apart by the thighs, her boots still on 'cause he finds them way too sexy, and stares at her gorgeous pussy.

She giggles. "Thank you."

She took his mind and threw it into another galaxy.

He stands and pushes her back on the bed, climbing over her. He slides his middle finger over her slit, drinking in the way she lifts her arms over her head and grips the pillow. Softly, he kisses up her arm, stopping at the elbow and then coming back down to her neck, biting bruises into the skin there.

He drags his hand away from her and she deflates, legs spreading wider underneath him. He takes her moans into his open mouth and sucks her tongue before reaching back down and circling her clit slowly, her sighs barely even there.

"You're so fucking sexy," he says hot and low into her, and she purrs.

He sinks a finger into her. Fucks her just how she wants it.

Then he's sinking another one in, and the way it just goes right in makes his balls ache.

He takes her nipple, that one that isn't swollen yet, and sucks hard. He pumps in and out of her, lets her fuck herself back on his fingers, too, and it doesn't take long until she's closing in, cumming on his fingers.

He only takes them out when she's flat on the mattress, with a flush so deep it makes her look like a fresh bloom.

She shudders when he leaves her.

He places a warm hand on the side of her face, curving his fingers around the back of her neck, tugging gently so that she opens her eyes.

When she does, he licks her taste off his skin. Never breaking his gaze, never rushing a single second.

"Like honey," he says with a smile, lifting her up and pressing his lips against hers.


She's wearing glasses today. He doesn't stop making fun of her.

"Okay, loser." He snorts and crosses his eyes and smacks her middle finger away when she lifts it.

"Bad girl," he wags his index finger in her face. "I'm going to call HR on you."

"I'm wearing glasses because I've been staring at your ugly ass face all week." She shoves him and he laughs. "You sound like a little bitch."

He pulls her ponytail. "I'd rather sound like a bitch than look like a horse girl."

"I'd rather look like a horse girl than look like you."

She's actually getting pissed now. So he kisses her cheek before she drop kicks him and bruises his tailbone.

"Why are you acting like a 7th grader today?" she pouts, crossing her arms. He wraps one of his one around her shoulders.

"'Cause you're leaving me." He opens the door of the diner open for her as dramatically as he possibly can. "How dare you?"

"Honey, I've been waiting for this all week. Keep up."

They sit down and stare at each other, unblinking. The glasses make her look really dorky. She's got the whole bug-eyed look because of them, as if her eyes weren't big enough on their own.

She raises a brow and he raises his.

"I want my grumpy Grayson. I don't know you."

"He's dead and gone, Barbara." He tucks his arms behind his head and leans back into the booth. "Dead and gone…"

"And I'm hungry. I want salad."

"We came all the way here for salad?"

"It's not like we walked. And what does it matter to you that I want salad? Mind your own damn business."

"You just told me your business, though."

"Hush."

"Are you gonna get a big salad?"

"I'm gonna get a new friend that won't judge me for wanting salad."

He slaps his hand over his heart.

"Dead and gone…" she smirks.

"I mean," he sniffs and makes a show of scratching his nose, stretching his arms over the top of the booth. "If I could have anybody murder me, I'd want it to be you."

"How would you like to die?" she says, leaning her chin on her hands.

"Hmm… gotta be something sensible. On the job."

"Here we go with the hero complex…"

Her demeanor completely changes once the waiter comes around, and it's always been jarring to him. She orders her damn salad and he orders a damn burger because today he's hungry, too.

"You're a wonderful actress."

"I have many talents."

"Like killing?"

"Oh yeah."

"How would you want to die?"

She pauses, thinking long and hard about it.

"I would like to… hmm…" she pouts and taps her chin, tilting her head all the way to the side.

"Like, never die?"

"I would like to be taken down because I know too much."

"I'm surprised it hasn't happened yet."

She winks but it looks goofy through her glasses. "Maybe it has, darling. Maybe I just refused to die."

"You're telling me you're a zombie?"

"I'm a lot of things."

"Like a big salad lover?"

"Exactly."

"You're a doll."

"You too."

When her salad comes, it's pretty big.

They eat and talk and laugh like it isn't the last time they'll see each other for god knows how long.


She lays there next to him and tells him stories about her home and the way the sun used to touch her skin.

It used to be closer over there, she used to heal in a moment. He holds her hand to his chest.

"You had a happy childhood," he says.

"It ended too soon," she says.

He doesn't ask. He only traces shapes into her skin.

She is wearing his shirt, loose around her body and reaching just past her underwear. She feels small in it, safe from everything.

Somehow he has taken her so high that she is floating back down to Earth now, a pleasant fall softer than his touch.

Eliza hops on the bed and lays in between the both of them. She strokes her face lovingly, cooing when she nuzzles into her palm.

"I adore her," she says, smiling.

He reaches over and begins to rub Eliza's ear. "It's hard not to."

"How precious is she?"

"Very."

She turns to find him looking right at her, something unreadable in his gaze. She shivers despite herself and the warmth of him by her side.

"And she is the bestest friend you have ever had?"

"My one and only, really."

She scratches the top of Eliza's head, grinning. "Who could be better?"

Eliza tilts her head before making her way to the end of the bed and resting there. They laugh.

"I think I might know somebody." He winks at her and she wonders for a moment if he would ever stop making her melt.

She reaches for him and brushes his hair back, following the white streak over and over. He looks beautiful like this, drifting off as she soothes him.

He burrows his face into her neck and she begins the stroke the back of his head, the back of his neck, his naked back.

"I wish you could stay here," he mumbles into her skin, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She yawns, scratching her nails lightly up and down his spine. "As do I."

"Then stay."

"You make it all seem so simple."

He cranes his neck so that he can look at her. "Sometimes it is."

She traces the dimple on his cheek. "Nothing has ever been simple for me."

"Hasn't been simple for me either, doll. Not until I made it simple."

"And how do you do so?"

His smile fades and his dimples go and he is giving her his dark eyes again, turning her head with the palm of his hand before kissing her deeply.

Her head spins when it's over.

"You know what you want, don't you?"

She nods weakly, licking her lips, enjoying the way they burn.

"So make a choice. And stay with it."

"Stay?" she whispers.

"Stay."

She rests her hands against his chest, feeling his heartbeat through it. Strong and sure.

"Where do you want to stay?" she says softly. She doesn't look away from how his whole body moves with every beat of his heart.

"Right here's just fine." He snakes his hand underneath her shirt and rests it in the dip of her waist.

"No," she says with a blush and a smile. "Where would you like to stay?"

"Like, live?" he chuckles. "Forever?"

"Forever… is a very long time, Jason."

"Exactly my point."

She slowly blinks up at him. "For the rest of your life. What would you like to come back to?"

He shrugs, looking unsure suddenly. "I like being here. I've got everything I need."

She hesitates before she asks. "Where did you live before?"

His smile is bitter, and his laugh is, too. She furrows her brows and leans in closer, placing her hands on either side of his neck.

"Somewhere underground," he finally says.

"Underground?"

"You're really cute. You know that, right?" he says before kissing her again, much softer this time. It is sweet like a dream. "I'm joking."

"Oh," she giggles.

"What about you? Where would you like to stay?"

"Where I grew up," she says without hesitation.

"It sounds like a great place to be. You're lucky you had it at all."

"I feel lucky for where I live now." Guilt twists her stomach. How could she leave it?

"For all the freedom it gives you?"

He always seems to read her mind.

She sighs. "That and so much more."

"Princess, you only deserve the best."

I hope that I do.

All she knows is that as much as he sets her alight, he settles her, too. All she knows is that she is falling.

And falling asleep with every stroke of her cheek.


"Miss me already?" she says when she picks up the phone, sounding sleepy.

"I just need you to look outside the window." He's sure she can hear his smirk.

It's like they didn't even say their goodbyes a few hours ago. Like she didn't cry like a baby.

"What did you do…"

He can see her turning the lights on, and snickers while she fumbles for her glasses. She walks up to her window and squints. "What am I supposed to be seeing?"

"You really put the Bat in Batgirl."

She presses her middle finger against the glass. "Hope you saw that."

"Oh, I did. Can you see this?" He flips it right back.

"Darkness? Yes."

"Open your damn window, Gordon."

"But it's so humid," she whines.

"No talking back, young lady."

"Shutup," she says, holding her phone between her shoulder and her ear while she pulls the window open.

"Make me."

"Looks like I'm really gonna have to kill you now."

"Step back. And don't get scared."

"Like I'd be," he hangs up the phone but she's just loud enough to hear from the branch he's hanging off of, "scared!"

He throws himself effortlessly to her window, grabbing the pane.

"God, you're so annoying."

He pulls himself up and into her room. She gasps.

"I'm here to give you what you asked for."

"Wow," she breathes, face splitting into a huge smile.

"You're the first person to see."

"Other than Alfred?"

"Other than Alfred, obviously."

"That man is really a genius," she says, in awe.

She reaches to touch his suit but she hesitates. He takes her wrist and pulls it forward, placing her palm right over the middle of his brand new symbol.

"Dick," she whispers. "It looks incredible."

"Thanks. It was definitely time for a change."

She skims her fingers over the blue, and then over the black kevlar. "Nice colors."

He hums, letting her inspect his suit. She circles around him carefully, feeling the material, grabbing his belt and pulling the compartments open.

"Gonna hang on to these?" She raises her brow, holding up a birdarang.

"They're a staple. Wait… is your father home?"

"Nope. Still working. You planning on spending the night or something?"

"Just wanted to make sure."

"Couldn't check before you came leaping through my window in your new clown suit?"

"I'd risk it all for you."

She gives him a sarcastic smile and pinches his cheek. He swats her hand away and pulls her glasses off, tossing them on her bed.

"But lord forbid I did that to you, right?" she says, crossing her arms.

"Mine's for style. And protection."

She's quick to tear his mask off his face with a smirk and smacks his nose with it.

Then it's back to reality, his bare eyes on hers. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and smiles sadly.

"Don't give me that look, Grayson," she says, her eyes glassy. "Your pouty puppy-dog look."

He tucks her against his chest and holds her there, holding her head in one hand and rubbing her back with the other. He rests his chin on her hair. "It's just that I'm gonna miss you a lot."

"Yeah," her voice wavers and she squeezes his middle between her arms. "I know."

"Don't tell me you're gonna go crying on me again…" he teases.

"A year of repressed sadness and tears… I deserve to cry," she sniffles. "After everything."

He cups the back of her neck and massages it the way she likes it. "Yeah. After everything."

"I dunno, Dick. Seeing you just made me realize how long I've been by myself… and as much as I enjoy it…"

"You need a friend."

"Comfort. Support. Something normal. Self-indulgent. God, I feel old," she laughs, hiding her face in his chest.

"You've got a lot on your plate, Barbara."

"I need to. There's so much I want to do, you know? A lot that I need to."

"Yeah," he lays his cheek on the top of her head. "I get it."

She pulls back and takes his face in her gentle hands, nothing but love in her eyes. He can't help but smile back.

"But I'll be okay."

"I know you will." He wraps his hands around her forearms.

"And you'll be okay, too." She shakes his head a bit and scrunches her nose, a stray tear falling.

"If you say so, -It-All."

"But only if you shave this ratty ass beard…"

He laughs deep from his belly, and so does she, and then they're laughing and laughing and laughing until she's crying again. She kisses his cheek and lets it linger there.

"Don't worry. I'll see you soon."

"Is that a promise?" she asks with wide eyes.

"Of course it is."

She holds out her pinky and he hooks his own around it, locking it with the pads of their thumbs. He leans over and pecks her forehead.

"I promise that I'll see you soon."

"Promise me something else…"

"Yes?"

"Promise me that you'll take a chance this time."

He pauses, soaking in her words.

"Promise me that you'll forgive yourself. Promise me that you'll do better."

The doubt that's been sitting in him for so long turns over, swelling despite the faith she has in him. He looks down at their hands, still interlocked. But still, he doesn't indulge in the shame.

He presses his palm against hers, gripping her hand like he means it. What does he have to lose anymore?

He holds his chest. His symbol. Looks right in her eyes.

"I promise."