Finally . . .

Warning: Language . . . (Watch for occasional POV changes)

Elle was still glaring down at Hugh when Dick shoved his way through the door. If looks could kill, she would have herself a pile of ashes, and be down one bodyguard.

"You did that on purpose," she hissed at him over the railing.

"Maybe," he admitted; shrugging a shoulder.

"Elle," Dick called out to her as soon as he saw her.

She could run, or she could just do this. Running meant Dick would catch her by the time she made it up the stairs. On the positive side, a few steps would mean privacy. On the negative side, a few steps would mean privacy.

Rolling her eyes, she moved down the steps. Dick waited near the bottom.

"What the hell were you thinking coming here? Why did you sneak off the plane?" He asked before her foot could reach the marble tiles of the foyer.

"Maybe I was thinking that I didn't want to see you right now," she snapped. "And your brother wouldn't let me off of my own plane otherwise."

"Baby, I'm sorry," he started out. "I know I should have said something before now, but I had no idea Jason had asked Roy and Kori for help. If I'd have known, I would have told you earlier."

Wrong. Thing. To. Say . . .

Anger flashed in Elle's eyes. "Meaning, if Jason hadn't asked them, I still wouldn't know!" She wasn't yelling . . . yet. But her voice was rising with every word. "I might never have known!"

Elle stormed toward him. Her plan, her speech was gone! Blown out of the water by her anger; completely forgotten in the heat of the moment.

"How many, Dick? How many more? Do I need to worry about Wonder Woman next?"

Dick backed up; blinking. "Wonder Woman? Hardly . . . She's at least five thousand years older than I am."

Elle faltered; confused.

"She's part goddess," he murmured. "She doesn't age like the rest of us."

"So not the point," Elle shrieked at him; waving a hand in the air. "You lied to me!"

"I didn't lie," Dick retorted. "I just didn't tell you."

"A lie by omission," she countered, "is still a lie."

Movement caught her eye as the woman at the heart of it all entered the house; Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran with her exotic alien beauty, strange eyes, and flaming hair.

"Dick? It is good to see you again," Kori moved in to greet him.

Panic flared in his eyes. "Kori, um . . . Hi," he stammered, glancing back at Elle. "Now's really not a good time."

Kori hesitated just a few steps away, but close enough that Elle could see the two of them as they might have looked as a couple. They were stunning . . .

The princess towered over Dick by several inches; he just topping her shoulder. It should have looked odd, but instead . . . A sharp pain of hurt and jealousy stabbed Elle's heart. How could she ever hope to step into this woman's place? Or Barbara Gordon's?

She was just a singer. She was just a nobody; a coward who just wanted to crawl into the linen closet and hide like Hugh had said. How was she ever expected to compete against women like this? Bold and beautiful; strong, brilliant, and powerful . . . How soon would Dick look at her and begin to grow bored?

Dick rubbed that spot over his chest, and she knew that he felt her pain. But when he reached for her, Elle stepped back. She didn't want to be touched right now. She just needed time to wrap her mind around this. What with her meeting with Aiden earlier, Elle hadn't had time to think about this latest revelation.

"Elle, wait," Dick said.

"Go home," she told him. "Go back to Gotham."

The shift in his expression was noticeable. It wasn't hurt she saw there, however, but determination.

"Not without you," he grabbed her wrist.

She didn't think; she just reacted. Who knew her reflexes could be that fast on land?

CRACK!

Dick's head rocked from the power behind the slap. He let her go.

Elle stared in horror at the bright red handprint displayed prominently across one side of his face as she tried shaking the sting out of her palm. She suddenly became aware of their audience when Jason and Edward ran in the door and slid to a halt. All of them staring at her. No one moved. No one spoke. It might have been funny, the looks on their faces, if it had been in any other situation.

She met Dick's eyes. That magnificent blue that never failed to take her breath away stared back at her in shock and regret.

He loves me.

She had just slapped the hell out of him, and she still felt this overwhelming love for her coming from him. It should have felt reassuring, but instead it felt suffocating. She didn't deserve it. Her face heated in shame.

"Please, leave," she told him softly, and then turned and ran; heading for the one place of solace the house had to offer her.

Dick stared at her. Hurt, anger, jealousy . . . doubt? . . . Why doubt? Did she doubt him? And betrayal? Is that how she saw this? As a betrayal of her trust?

He supposed that she was right, but if his and Babs' relationship had been fraught with trouble, how his and Kori's had ended was nothing short of a disaster. He didn't like thinking about it even when he was alone; especially when he was alone, but he really didn't want to talk about it either. Not just to Elle, but to anyone.

Shame. This emotion that came from her confused him, though.

She had slapped him, sure, but Dick didn't blame her at all. He had deserved it. He felt regret now for not bringing this up when his prior engagement to Babs had been discovered. He would have liked to have blamed Bruce for raising him to hide things from everyone; to internalize the pain, and shove it in a box where it wouldn't disturb the mission. But this wasn't Bruce's fault because Dick knew better.

These secrets weren't meant to be kept from Elle. She had a right to know, but he had chosen to keep them because he had wanted to avoid them for a little while longer. He should have known that these sort of things would blow up in his face one day.

Ironically, he had kept silent because he had wanted to avoid this very outcome . . . Because he loved her.

In the end, that was all that mattered. He loved her. The only power his secrets had to hurt her was the power he gave them by hiding them from her.

He could fix this . . . He held out his hand to her, only for her to step back.

"Please leave," Elle told him, and then she ran.

"Damn it," he muttered.

Dick moved to follow her, but Hugh stepped in front of him.

"Get the hell out of my way," he snarled. He didn't have time for this.

"Sorry, Grayson," Hugh said. He almost looked sincere about it, but it wasn't enough to make the man move. "You two aren't married yet. This is her home, and we work for Bella. If she wants you to leave, then you're going."

Kori was suddenly beside him. "This is my fault," she admitted regretfully. "I will hold him off for you while you go after her."

Hugh gaped at the alien woman as she practically lifted him from where he was standing and casually moved him aside.

"What the hell?" He yelped in surprise. He pulled his weapon.

Kori's power flared, and her eyes began to glow. She clamped her hand over the muzzle, and melted the end closed.

"If you try to fire your weapon now," she warned him, "it will explode in your face."

"Don't hurt him," Dick reminded her, although that was more from habit than from the belief she that she would do the man a serious violence. It had been a long time since Kori had been tempted to abuse her power. "And it's not your fault, Kori. It's mine."

There was some scuffling and a few grunts. Dick glanced back at the front door as Jason wrestled with Edward for his guns. In seconds, Edward was on the floor with his gun aimed at Jason's chest, and Jason standing above him with two aimed at the man in return. Roy had swiped his bow and quiver from the startled butler and had an arrow notched as he moved his target from one man to the other and back.

"Get going, Dickhead," Jason called to him. "We've got your back here."

Oh, shit . . . Dick facepalmed. He supposed that Jason wanting to help him was a good thing, but holding a gun on Elle's bodyguard was definitely not.

"You're his brother? What the hell? Who are you people?" Edward growled at Jason.

This couldn't end well. What Dick knew of Elle's bodyguards is that they would take the shot if they got it. Jason and his mouth didn't have a reputation for easing tensions. If Dick left now, someone would get shot, and then there really would be hell to pay.

"Stop! Everyone, just . . . stop," he yelled at them. "This is ridiculous! There's no need for this. This is a lover's spat; nothing more. Elle and I can work this out, but not if you guys start shooting up her house and her employees!"

"Don't mess with us, Grayson. You don't want what comes next," Hugh grunted. Kori was holding him off of his feet by his shirt collar.

Dick glared at the man. "The ceremony is merely a technicality," he snapped. "You know how this works. We've already bonded. That gives me the right to pursue her anywhere."

Hugh snarled. "Not if she says no!"

Edward suddenly held his hands out; his gun dangling from one finger. "No, Hugh. He's right. It's out of our hands, now. Let him go."

Funny, considering that Hugh had no way of stopping him, but Dick appreciated Edward's attempt to alleviate the tension in the atmosphere.

"What about Bella's rights? Her choices?" Hugh ground out. "Someone's got to look out for her. I'm not standing back and letting assholes push her around anymore; family or no family."

"That's rich considering you were the one insisting she talk to him in the first place," Edward snorted, shoving his gun back into the holster under Jason's watchful eyes.

Hugh looked like he wanted to argue the point, but huffed instead. He allowed his pistol to drop to the floor with a clatter. It was a token move since the firearm was now useless. Unless he wanted to throw it, that is. It was close. He glared at Dick instead.

"Don't hurt her anymore," Hugh told him.

Roy had put away his arrow and handed the bow back to Fredrick. Jason reluctantly reholstered his weapons; obviously having no intention of handing them back to anyone. He held a hand out to help Edward to his feet. Kori was slowly lowering Hugh back to his feet.

"That was never my intention," Dick murmured, and turned to follow in Elle's wake.

He knew exactly where she was going.

Dick entered the pool room. He didn't see her at first, but that was because Elle wasn't swimming. She was sitting . . . on the bottom of the deep end. Dick's lips twitched up when he realized that she didn't bother stripping this time, except for her shoes. His flicker of amusement died away, though, at the thought that this was a testament to her upset that she had just dived in clothes and all.

He found a place to sit on one of the lounge chairs and prepared to wait.

And wait . . .

. . . And wait some more.

Bruce poked his nose in at one point.

It must be late.

"They told me you were down here with Elle," he started hesitantly; glancing around. "I didn't want to interrupt you. I heard she was a little upset with you for not telling her about your relationship with Starfire."

"A little?" Dick snorted.

"She had a right to know," Bruce commented. "Can't be a pleasant way to meet your fiancé's ex."

"I know that, Bruce," he huffed. "You want to know the ironic part? I just decided I would tell her about it, but Jason beat me to it."

"Not the best timing . . ." Bruce agreed. He frowned. "Where is she? Did she go upstairs?"

Dick shrugged and tilted his head in the direction of the pool. Curious, Bruce stepped to the side and did a double-take. It takes a lot to surprise Bruce, and Dick was a little bummed that he couldn't enjoy the moment more.

"She's . . . sitting on the bottom of the pool," he remarked needlessly. Chalk up another first for Elle; she had Bruce muttering inanities now. He looked back at Dick, and gestured at the sight. "How long has she been down there? Should we be worried?"

Dick crossed his arms behind his head and looked up at the skylight. It was nearly the length of the pool. Winter skies; there had been hints of pale blue peeking down through the plentiful gray clouds when he had first come down here. Now, stars winked at him.

"She's good. She can breathe underwater, apparently," Dick admitted casually.

"Really? I didn't notice gills. Do they somehow come and go like the webbing you said she gets between her fingers?"

"Nope! No gills. She breathes through her skin . . . like an amphibian," Dick said.

He watched Bruce for his reaction. Never big by anyone else's standards; Bruce was Batman, after all, nonetheless, any little twitch of the lip or the brow was worth noting. Both eyebrows rose. Dick smiled despite the circumstances.

"I suppose I should have expected that," the older man remarked. "Makes sense."

Dick sighed heavily. "She's pouting now. It's easier to not speak to me underwater." He met Bruce's gaze. "How do you handle a pouty woman? You're Bruce Wayne; you're bound to have had hundreds."

"Hundreds? I'm a little smoother than that, I'll have you know." Bruce narrowed his eyes at his smartass son. "Send her flowers or jewelry. Depends on the severity of the infraction. Then I would wait a little while after I knew it had been delivered before calling her up."

Dick sat up and rested an arm across his leg. "You know . . . It's probably a good thing you don't want to get married."

"What? It's always worked for me," Bruce assured him. "Of course, I tried to not tick the woman off unless I wanted to end the relationship."

Dick grabbed a decorative pillow from the lounge chair next to him and threw it at the man. Bruce caught it, and set it down on the chair closest to him.

"You're no help," the younger man complained.

"Then I'll leave you to your brooding," Bruce acquiesced.

"I'm not brooding," he grumped.

"Like father, like son," Bruce chuckled as he moved to the door. "Wait until I tell Alfred."

Dick sighed. "Wait! Why did you come down here looking for me?"

The amusement slid away. "I think we have a culprit," he told him.

Standing up, Dick faced him. "Well, don't keep me in suspense. Who are we hunting?"

"Deadshot."

Dick gaped. "No way." He looked back at the wavering image of Elle through the water. "Deadshot never misses."

"Unless he means to," Bruce corrected him. "But I'm not sure that was case this time. He meant to hit the pilot, I'm positive, but based off the video we saw and the angle he was using from his position in the apartment, I don't think he could get a clear shot at her. He had planned to send the helicopter to the ground, but hadn't expected Jason's skill behind the controls."

"What do we do? He can't get another shot at her. There's no way he would let her walk away," Dick told him; a flare of something like panic caught him by surprise.

"And let's not forget that he's likely after you as well," Bruce cautioned. Dick waved the idea away, but Bruce pointed a finger at him. "No, you're unable to go that self-sacrificing route this time. You've been lucky so far, but if you die, she dies. And if she dies first . . ."

"I don't want to live," Dick answered.

Bruce grimaced at the reminder.

"Go," he said. "Work out your problems. It's late. Fredrick already made up rooms for us. We can stay the night, talk in the morning, and head back to Gotham tomorrow."

Now it was Dick's turn to be taken aback. "You're staying?"

Bruce frowned. He moved back to stand in front of his son; placing his hand on Dick's shoulder. "I know I've given you plenty of reasons to doubt me throughout the years, but I assure you that nothing is more important to me than family."

"The mission . . ."

"Will still be there. It will always be there." He squeezed Dick's shoulder gently. "I've come too close to losing you. I'll always have the mission, but I might not always have you . . . or Tim, or Damian, or even Jason," he went on. Bruce let his eyes stray beyond his son to the pool's lone occupant. "But we have a new member of the family now. Let's try not to screw this up."

Dick cleared his throat. "Right," he whispered.

It always surprised him when Bruce opened up like this. It didn't happen often, and Dick strived to savor every moment. Bruce had been doing better at it, though, since that Christmas a couple of years ago when he had showed up at Dick's apartment on Christmas morning apologizing for their falling out. That was when Bruce had stunned him with the offer to adopt him officially. It had been the best Christmas that Dick could remember.

With one last squeeze for good luck or strength, or whatever, Bruce left the pool room and went upstairs. Dick turned around and contemplated his bondmate.

She was still angry with him, but it had been hours now, and Elle needed to eat something, and then get some sleep. She couldn't stay down there all night.

Dick frowned . . . Or could she?

It took him less than a minute to make the decision to go in after her. He promised himself that he wouldn't come up without her. He smirked at his plan. There wouldn't be any choice. She couldn't let him die without losing her own life. If she still refused to come up, Elle would be forced to breathe for him. Dick smiled as he remember the results of the last time Elle had breathed for him.

That had been a great night!

He kicked off his shoes, and took off the sweater he was wearing; leaving only his white undershirt on. He took the belt off and the socks, but his jeans remained. He was tempted to strip bare, but a glance back at the glass wall and door that allowed anyone coming down the stairs to see the occupants in the pool changed his mind. Although he doubted Bruce would return and knew Hugh and Edward wouldn't bother, there was still Tim and Damian . . .

And let's not forget Jason! The younger man had been a thorn in Dick's side since this whole debacle had started. It would be just like him to wander downstairs out of curiosity or on the off-chance that it would annoy Dick. And it would annoy him, he was sure.

So, in jeans and an undershirt, Dick dove into the pool.

Elle was deep enough that Dick needed to equalize the pressure on his way down. She could have gone deeper he realized, and was thankful she hadn't. She was sitting with her legs crossed; looking like she was meditating. Her hair was loose and flowing around her in almost a surreal way. Her beige sweater and slacks looked out of place. All that was missing was the jacket she had worn to her meeting with her board of directors.

The picture she made kind of creeped him out actually. Too many bodies fished out of the Gotham River to make this a comfortable sight for him.

Elle's eyes opened as he neared her. She obviously felt his movements through the water, or maybe it was a form of her echolocation. He didn't know; he thought maybe he should, though. He wanted to know everything about this woman.

He hated that he had hurt her. He hadn't meant for this to happen. He just wanted to avoid a painful part of his life a little longer. He would try to make her understand somehow, if, that is, she would stop this and surface with him. The pressure was becoming uncomfortable to him. Dick thought it had been too long since he had practiced diving.

When she looked at him, Dick pointed to the surface. Elle shook her head.

Stubborn woman!

He touched her arm and pointed upward when she opened her eyes. She frowned and shook her head. He was feeling the lack of oxygen already. Dick crossed his legs and settled in front of her. If she wasn't coming up, then neither was he.

His plan was working. Elle frowned at him again and pointed to the surface. He pointed back at her and then up. She shook her head. He shook his head and remained planted in front of her. He closed his eyes; taking up her meditative pose. A couple of seconds later, Elle was shaking his arm. Not a moment too soon. He was going to need a breath before much longer.

She pointed at him and then up. Dick shook his head. He repeated the hand movements in her direction. Her mouth dropped open as she realized his intent. She pointed up insistently. Dick pointed at her in the same fashion. He was feeling lightheaded and getting a little desperate, but he refused to ask her for oxygen. She would have to offer it willingly.

His thoughts were getting panicky and a bit cloudy. He could see her counting in her head; trying to determine how much oxygen he had left. He could tell her . . . It wasn't much. Spots started appearing in front of his eyes as his lungs began burning. He need to breathe was growing stronger.

Dick grabbed Elle's hand in an effort to stay where he was, and not go shooting toward the surface. Although he was beginning to believe he had waited too long for that. They were too deep. His need for oxygen would overwhelm him before he could make it.

Elle's eyes widened as she began to feel his urgency and panic. His body fought him now. She unwound her legs and pointed up.

Ah, he'd won . . . His body jerked suddenly as it tried to force him to take a breath. It didn't understand there was no air to be had. His lungs expelled the wasted air in a burst of bubbles.

Elle grabbed his face and blew oxygen into his lungs forcefully. His lungs expanded gratefully, and the spots receded somewhat. He shook his head, feeling confused still. Elle wasn't done with him, and forced another lungful of her excess oxygen into him. Then, sliding her arm under one of his, she kicked off the bottom; dragging his weakened body through the water with her.

Understanding his need to pause every so often to avoid the bends, Elle would halt their progression and blow another lungful of fresh oxygen into him. Then, after a few moments, she would pull him along with her; getting closer to the surface. It took one more stop, and then their heads broke the surface. Dick started coughing as a little water had made it into his lungs at some point along the way.

He relaxed; letting Elle do all the work. The water revitalized her; filling her with strength she didn't have access to while on land. She might even be stronger than he was while in the water. He didn't feel like testing it, though, as he tried to catch his breath between ragged coughs.

Elle stood on her feet in the shallows, and dragged Dick to the edge of the pool. She climbed out, and while she was still dripping and reasonably strong, she pulled him onto the deck.

"Damn you, Dick Grayson," she shouted at him. It echoed around the room. "What the hell were you trying to do?"

He started to open his mouth to answer her, but she interrupted him.

"It doesn't matter what you were trying to do," she griped at him, "you very nearly succeeded in drowning yourself!"

He coughed in agreement. It was close, he admitted in his mind.

"You realize if you had drowned, you would have taken me with you? Can you even imagine the unlikelihood of a Siren dying by drowning?" She rambled on angrily. Elle was on a roll and didn't even need his arguments to assist her in her raging.

"Don't you do that ever again," she practically shrieked in his face.

Dick caught her face between his hands and held her still.

"Then don't make me," he said against her lips, and then kissed her.

She froze under the abrupt assault in shock. Dick pressed his advantage, but all too soon, she came to her senses and broke the kiss. Elle pulled back with an outraged gasp.

"I will always come after you," Dick promised her with a growl.

Elle stared at him as water dripped off of their eyelashes, nose, and chin.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him finally.

"What do you think?" He tilted his head at her confusion.

"No, I mean, here . . . with me."

"What are you talking about?" He frowned.

She blinked at him. "I saw her," she gasped out. "That . . . That woman! She's magnificent! I don't understand, Dick? You were with her for years! What happened to the two of you?"

"Stop. What are you doing, Elle?" He gaped at her. "Are . . . Are you trying to . . . what? To get Kori and I back together again? It's over! We aren't getting back together. Even before I met you and we bonded, it wasn't going to happen."

"If it's over, then you can explain it to me," she said. "You two made it all the way to the wedding, for God's sake! How do you just . . . just walk away from that?"

When Dick was slow answering her, Elle made a disgusted noise and climbed to her feet. She walked over to the cabinets that lined one wall and pulled out a couple of towels. She tossed him one, then walked over to one of the lounge chairs and sat down with her back to him.

He watched her strip off her sweater, soaked and heavy with pool water, and toss it over the back of the chair back. She left her lacy beige bra on and proceeded to towel-dry her hair in sections.

He climbed to his feet and made his way over to her. He sat down on the chair at her back. He wasn't quite ready to face her, but needed to be near her.

"You should have told me," Elle said to him finally; going back to the heart of the matter.

"I-I know," he admitted. "And I'm sorry."

When no other words of explanation came, Elle stopped drying her hair to look back over her shoulder at him. For someone who never truly loved Kori, he seemed to be having a difficult time with the memories. She hadn't been there for it. Elle could only guess what had been going through either of their minds at the time. Part of her was afraid to delve; afraid to bring back the same emotions that had spurred Dick to ask this other woman to marry him in the first place.

Oddly enough, she noticed that his emotions seemed somehow muted to her. She could feel his upset, but couldn't tell if that was due to regurgitated history, or if he was upset that she had had to find out about it in this way. So, Elle reached out to him; shamelessly using their bond to pick at the scab only to discover that he was actively trying to hide those emotions from her.

Frowning, Elle turned around on the lounge chair to face him.

"Dick?"

He hung his head down; refusing to look at her. "That wasn't a good time for me, Elle," he murmured quietly. "For either of us. Bad things were happening . . . t-to everyone."

"I know."

Dick peered up at her without actually raising his head.

"Kori told me about your friend murdering the minister, and how she became . . . p-possessed?" Elle scrunched her nose. "God, that sounds so bizarre."

Dick looked up, startled, but then turned to the side. "That . . . Yeah, that, too."

Elle blinked. That, too? Was there more? She thought back over the conversation she had had with the alien princess a few hours ago. Kori had hinted that there was other stuff going on, but hadn't elaborated. Something about a misunderstanding.

"Dick . . . What happened? What are you hiding from me now?" She asked, feeling a little desperate.

But she wasn't the only one feeling this way. Desperation flared before Dick shut it down – hard! He simply closed off, and shut down. Elle's eyes widened in surprise as he stood up. His face was a blank wall; even the bond couldn't break through the steel door he had just slammed shut on his emotions.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again, but this time it came out flat and emotionless. "I should have told you; been up front with you about both Babs and Kori. I have no excuse, but you know now."

Elle blinked. He might have been a robot or manikin.

"Look, I've been in a number of relationships," he admitted. "Only Babs and Kori did I become engaged to. Things didn't work out. I love you now."

He was so closed off at the moment, she couldn't quite tell if he meant that. She knew he did, of course . . . Only moments ago she had felt his love for her, but she might have been in the room alone for all she could 'feel' him now.

"But those were difficult times, and I want nothing more than to put them behind me." It was a statement, but the question was in his eyes . . . his very blue eyes. Would she leave it alone?

She would . . . for now, but there was something bad in Dick's head, and Elle wanted to get to the bottom of it. But after all the drama of the day, they both deserved a break. So, she nodded and kept her mouth shut.

REACTIONS?

Dick's still keeping secrets. Will he open up to her or not? Either way, maybe things can settle down between the two . . .

Deadshot. They have a name, but will that be enough. He's not known for walking away from a contract.