Hey peeps! I'm really not sure where this one came from... Okay, I know EXACTLY where it came from, a tumblr post by spacedace that my friend Weshney tagged me in. (It is a slight divergence from the original idea - Jazz will still end up at Arkham, for now - but the idea is that she ends up counseling a rogue out in Gotham rather than within the asylum...and it just so happens to be during a date with Jason.)

Enjoy!

"This is dialogue."

"This is alternative dialogue, meaning whispered or spoken from a distance such as on the phone."

THIS and this and *this* are emphasis. The *this* emphasis is more along the lines of the snarky or sarcastic.

I do not own Danny Phantom nor the DC characters appearing in this fic.

A VIGILANTE, A DIFFERENT VIGILANTE'S SISTER AND A VILLAIN WALK INTO A BAR

It wasn't the persistent assault of the house music's bass line which made Jazz feel uncomfortable; rather, it was the establishment in which the music was playing.

First dates are an odd thing. Neither party is ever particularly interested in defining the parameters unilaterally. It is a give-and-take, a delicate dance challenging its participants to never misstep. So when her dating app match gently suggested, several times, that the Iceberg Lounge famously had the best cocktails in the city, she agreed to give it a try. He was the local, after all, and she but a simple Midwestern transplant.

Freshly licensed and hired at a prominent institution, Jazz found herself wanting to be introduced to Gotham, to get out there and learn about the city. Maybe she could find a friend, if not something more. So here she sat, twirling a strand of her straightened red hair while she snuggled into a black turtleneck sweater. Curse the Iceberg for staying on theme and not keeping it warmer inside; she would be able to wear something more flattering, otherwise. Too anxious to try distracting herself on her phone, Jazz opened her favorite aquamarine clutch and reached around the compact Fenton Peeler for a tube of lipstick, electing to re-apply it for the thousandth time since leaving her apartment.

"Jazz?"

The woman spun on her barstool and recognized the speaker's signature tuft of white hair amongst the black. He was a tall, dashing figure in tight black jeans and an unzipped leather jacket that could probably use some extra room in the arms. "Jason?"

The man gave a relaxed smile of confirmation. "Cool to finally meet you," he said and slid into the next seat as if he'd been there a thousand times. Unfortunately, his knee slammed against a support under the bar, causing him to lurch forward and knock over her water. "Fuck!"

Jazz snorted and righted the glass, quickly moving her purse out of the water's path.

"I mean…shoot," Jason corrected, reaching for some bar napkins to wipe up the mess.

"If anyone has a right to drop the F-bomb, it's me. Do you want me to be dehydrated?!" the woman teased.

"Oh, I think I can moisten you up myself," Jason easily replied, but horror instantly dawned on his face. "Wait! No! Rewind! I-" In his flailing haste to correct himself, he toppled the now-empty glass once more. Jason fumbled to grab it and finally stopped it from falling to the floor. "Shit, sorry, I didn't mean—I mean…"

Jazz's embarrassed giggle and dismissive wave interrupted his blubbering. "Don't worry. That was pretty smooth, if not entirely filthy."

"And not representative of me as a person," Jason added, nervously rubbing his neck. With a deep sigh, he set aside the dampened napkin and did his best to appear calm, cool, and collected.

Jazz smiled endearingly. "So, Mr. Local Expert Guide, you're the one that knows this place. What should I be drinking instead of just water?"

The man thought for a moment. "Any allergies or preferences?"

"Mm, not really. Not bitter, I guess."

"Got it." Jason motioned for the bartender. "Hey, Matt? The usual, and an Arctic Tuxedo for the lady."

"You got it, boss," Matt replied, immediately reaching for the top-shelf liquor bottles.

" 'Boss,' " Jazz parroted.

"...Term of endearment," Jason explained after a moment's hesitation.

"You wouldn't happen to think they have the best drinks in the city because it's your bar, would you?"

Jason barked a laugh. "Ha! As if. No, Matt sometimes does work on the side for me."

"You never did tell me what you do," Jazz inquired.

"Uh…sales and marketing?"

"Are you sure?" the redhead teased with a snort.

Jason rolled his eyes but didn't elaborate, sliding his credit card in Matt's direction when the bartender delivered their drinks.

Jazz moved her layered blue and black cocktail closer. "What's your usual?"

"Beverly Hills Iced Tea," Jason replied. "It's like a Long Island, but with Champagne for the bubbles instead of Coke. It's fancier that way. When in doubt, pinkies out, amiright?"

"And it's just…"

"Solid alcohol," Jason immediately confirmed with a nod.

"Getting right down to business, huh?" Jazz remarked.

"High tolerance." He took a long sip. "And also cost-efficient."

"To economizing!" Jazz toasted, raising her glass.

Jason happily clinked glasses with her. After a fortifying gulp, he set his cocktail down on the provided coaster and spun it absently. "Plus, you know, it helps with nerves."

"I find it hard to believe a captain of industry like yourself would get nervous."

The man scoffed. "It gets pretty lonely at the top. It'd be nice to have a partner in crime."

"Well, If anyone's struggling with nerves, it's me," Jazz admitted. "New city, nefarious people everywhere…and I'm just an unfashionable dork from a wacky family in the middle of nowhere."

"You've got a screw loose if you think you aren't the prettiest girl at this bar. I'm the one who ain't exactly Vogue. I mean, look at this stupid shit," he complained, pulling at the white strands of hair polluting a sea of perfect black until they stuck out wildly. "I look like an Oreo."

Jazz snickered. "Maybe my favorite cookies are Oreos," she retorted sweetly as she reached up and gently smoothed his hair. The woman suddenly realized what she was doing and snatched back her hand.

Jason did his best to ignore the fact that he'd leaned into her touch.

Having both gulped significant portions of their drinks, Jason cleared his throat and looked everywhere but at her. He frowned, though, when a loud buzzing emanated from his leather jacket. His expression soured further upon opening the notification.

"Everything okay?" Jazz asked.

"Fucking replacement," he muttered. After a moment, Jason locked his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. "Nothing worth taking me away from this."

Encouraged, the redhead smiled then held up her drink. "I have to admit, this Arctic Tuxedo is pretty darn good!" Jazz announced.

"Toldya this was a good place," Jason said with a shrug. "So, you said something about psychology in your profile? How's that going?"

Jazz snorted. "How's psychology going?"

"Well, I dunno," Jason said defensively. "How do you even make conversation with that? Give a jerk a break, okay? I'm trying over here."

"Well, *psychology* is going great, actually," the woman sassed. "I just got licensed last month, and I start as a therapist next week."

"Beauty and a brain," Jason said with an appreciative smile.

Jazz couldn't help but blush. "Your compliments are almost too much."

The man chuckled and looked everywhere but at her.

"Don't stop, though."

They both laughed. Jazz took a sip of her drink, and Jason took that as a chance to gulp some of his.

Swallowing, Jason declared, "I'll have you know I'm not so stupid either."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I like to read books."

"You like books, huh? Name one."

"The Bible," Jason deadpanned.

Jazz rolled her eyes. "I walked right into that one."

"I enjoy the classics. Especially moody or creepy ones. Eyre, Poe, sometimes Dickens."

His date nodded approvingly. "I lean towards nonfiction, mostly, but I enjoy a good ghost story."

A smile teased the corner of Jason's mouth. "Poor little Casper doesn't scare you?"

"Psh, please, growing up my house was basically haunted," Jazz dismissed. "Though you might think I'm crazy if you don't give any stock to the existence of ghosts. Do you believe in life after death?"

Jason was visibly suppressing a smirk. "You'd be surprised."

Bz-bzzz…. Bz-bzzz….

The man pointedly ignored his phone.

"Are you sure you don't need to answer that?" Jazz asked. "Really, it's okay. Even if it's a planned escape emergency, I'll understand. Just tell me you're not vibing, and I'm gone."

"No, not at all; actually, that would've been a good thing to set up. But no, it's just my little-"

Bz-bzzz…. Bz-bzzz….

Jason scoffed and took out his phone. "Goddamnit. Lemme just tell them to leave me alone. Fucking brothers don't have any boundaries."

"Oh, tell me about it," Jazz agreed. "Though I will concede I'm usually the overbearing one. The curse of older siblinghood."

Jason half-smiled at that. However, his mirth evaporated instantly when he finished reading the incoming texts. With a furrowed brow, he looked up at his date and started sliding out of his seat. "Hey, Jazz, how about we bounce? I know a great shawarma place about a block-"

Shattering glass drowned out the rest of his suggestion as broken skylights rained down on the patrons, eliciting a yelp from the redhead. Several goons dressed in all black dropped in with automatic weapons drawn. Still more poured in through the doors to the entrance hallway and terraces. Jason slid instantly into a defensive stance in front of her, oblivious to the young woman's own prepared stance and drawn fists.

"What the heck is going on?" Jazz hissed.

"I dunno. The Iceberg was raided on Tuesday so they already filled their weekly quota. We should've been in the clear till Saturday at least."

Unaware that her jaw had dropped, Jason reached behind himself until he found Jazz's wrist and pulled her back behind a pillar. Amongst the scattered tables and carved ice sculptures around the room, several patrons tried to run but were stopped under threat of death.

"Okay, I may just be a small-town girl," Jazz whispered, bewildered, "but a raid quota can't be normal. You know how not-normal that is, right?"

"Hey, it happens when it's the Penguin's joint."

Incensed, Jazz scoffed. "You took me to a villain's lair on a first date?!"

"I told you: they have good drinks!" he defended quietly and drew a gun from somewhere under his jacket. "Besides, he's supposedly reformed, so it's kind of a moral grey area."

"Why do you have a gun?!"

"It's fuckin' Gotham. And I saw that silver piece peeking out of your purse," Jason indignantly replied. "Don't act like you're not packin'."

"That's different. It's a peeler; it's not for humans."

The local whirled around to gawk at her. "The fuck is it for, then?!"

"HEY!" a goon barked at them with his rifle raised. "Lovebirds! Drop the gun!"

Jason faked terror and raised his hands, letting his pistol slip from his grasp onto the floor. He kicked it over and slunk back in front of his date. "So predictable," he muttered.

"What was the point of even drawing it, then?" Jazz breathed.

"Decoy gun. Now they think I'm unarmed. Try to keep up, Jazz."

"*Decoy* gun?!"

"Yeah. Everyone should have one."

"You're unhinged."

"And you're new to life in Gotham. Stay quiet; the bat dudes should be here soon."

Some monochromatic movement caught her eye. The goons guarding the exit had moved aside for a man wearing a suit split vertically into black and white. He sauntered in exuding confidence, sneering at the terrified patrons.

"Oh my god, it's Two-Face!" Jazz cheered quietly.

Not quietly enough.

The villain immediately glanced in her direction. With a skeptically raised eyebrow, he slowly approached. "You're not from here, are you?"

"You're excited?!" Jason hissed.

Jazz ignored her date's protests and stood to match the villain's gaze. "No, I will admit I'm new here, but I know who you are, Mr. Dent."

"I find it unfair that one of us knows who the other is, while the other does not."

"Well, isn't it a perfect balance? A dichotomy of knowledge and ignorance? Two sides of a coin?"

The villain huffed a laugh. "You know me too well."

"I bet I'll know you even better before too long," Jazz teased. "I'm the new therapist at Arkham. I'll be working with Dr. Meridian."

"The fuck?" Jason whispered behind her.

Two Face guffawed at that. "Don't tell me, you think you'll be able to therapize me back to the light side, or at least into submission?"

"I think I'll help you find peace."

"I'll find peace when Gotham gets its act together," he growled, suddenly angry. "I recommend you don't stand in my way. The Penguin, and everything he touches, is dirty."

"I don't care about the Penguin, Mr. Dent," Jazz said softly. "I care about you. I happen to know a thing or two about obsession, and your relentless, Machiavellian pursuit of justice is an obsession."

"Where was my justice?! Half my face burned on the stand, and what happens? A night in jail for Sal Maroni? That's not right!"

"No, it's not fair."

"No, it's not!" Two-Face shouted indignantly. He sobered, however, when he realized she had agreed. "It's not."

"So, what would make this better for you? What would give you peace?" Jazz prodded. "Would taking down a reformed Penguin give you peace?"

"N—yes, he's part of the problem."

"Do you want to toss acid on Maroni's face too? An eye for an eye?"

"Absolutely not. It's excruciating...and cruel."

Jazz sighed. "See? You still have mercy, Mr. Dent. There is good in you. But it is obscured by hatred and fury and injustice. You used to be a force for good in this city."

"I still am," Dent insisted. "A vigilante, like Batman, except I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty."

"What makes you better than them if you have no limits or reservations?"

The man brandished his infamous coin. "I abide by the laws of fate."

Jazz crossed her arms. "Fate, huh? You want to do fate's bidding?"

"Absolutely."

"Even if fate decided you needed acid to be thrown in your face?"

The former district attorney stood dumbfounded. However, before he could formulate a response, Batman dropped in through the ceiling with Robin and Red Robin in tow.

"Dent! Step away from the girl!" the vigilante barked, bat-taser drawn.

"Damnit, Batman!" Jazz cried. "Read the room!"

Instead of the chaos found upon Dent's first arrival, the room was calm and contemplative. No patrons panicked, and no goons actually aimed their weapons. Even Dent, now bristling, remained a respectful distance away from Jazz. The lounge had fallen completely still while the unassuming outsider had stared down the duality-obsessed rogue. Regardless, the vigilantes kept their distance while they reevaluated.

"And just when I was starting to get through to him, too," Jazz complained to herself. She returned her attention to Harvey. "I think sometimes the world is just awful, Mr. Dent. Bad things happen to good people. But it's up to those people to overcome, fight the good fight, lead by example. Wouldn't you agree?"

Anger bubbled in Two Face's functioning eye. "No, actually, I wouldn't, since that's what I was trying when this happened!" he snapped, gesturing to the left half of his head. He unbuttoned his blazer and took a menacing step forward. "Damn you, girl, for interrupting my operation! Now the Bat is here, and it's too late for justice to be AUGH!"

The man's knees buckled, and he fell to the floor. Two rubber bullets bouncing away explained the loud pops preceding his collapse. Jazz whipped around to see Jason perched low on one leg with the other extended for balance, a smoking second gun supported in his hands. He lowered the barrel and clicked the safety back on before making eye contact with a determined frown.

Panting from the fright, Jazz looked back at Harvey on the ground. Batman had soundlessly crossed the room and pressed a knee into the villain's back.

"I knew what I was doing, and I can defend myself," Jazz huffed. She sensed Jason's protective presence arrive beside her.

"And I know Harvey and the danger lurking underneath the surface," Batman gruffly retorted and pulled back Dent's blazer to reveal a holstered weapon. He pulled the man in question to his feet and cuffed his hands in front.

"Then why not handcuff him behind his back?"

Dent smirked knowingly. "Because *I* know not to try anything once the Bat is on my ass," he answered.

Batman made to angle himself away from Jazz, but he hesitated. "What you did tonight was impressive, young lady. Your distraction likely saved lives and bought us enough time to arrive. But you should develop better survival instincts if you intend to survive Arkham."

"With those guts, I think she'll be just fine," the rogue grumbled. "You're something, you know that, Miss…?"

"Fenton. Dr. Jasmine Fenton." Jazz offered a small smile and held out her hand. "I'll see you next week, okay?"

Harvey's never-blinking eye darted from the woman's face to her hand and back again. The unharmed half of his mouth almost managed to smile. "Looking forward to it."

With Harvey Dent escorted away, Jazz finally dropped her façade of confidence. "Oh my god, did I really just do that?" she rasped.

Jason was quick to grasp and massage her upper arms. As the room grew noisy once more with an inundation of cops arresting the goons and interviewing witnesses, the skunk-haired man led Jazz to their vacated barstools and sat back down next to her. Jason grabbed his nearly forgotten Beverly Hills and passed Jazz her Arctic Tuxedo. "You know, Two-Face was right. You're really something, you know that? I mean, what kind of person can not only face one of Batman's rogues but also somehow therapize him out of attacking an entire bar?"

"I don't know. Sometimes this kind of thing just happens. Sometimes I don't know when to butt out."

"Maybe. But it was fucking impressive either way." Jason noticed a boy in red approaching. "Oh, no…"

"Is this the miracle worker?" Red Robin asked.

"Tt," Robin clicked his tongue disapprovingly just behind him. "It could hardly be considered a miracle to use a villain's fundamental beliefs against them."

"It was stupid, but also brave as hell. And, of course, kudos for actually pulling it off."

"What a first date, huh?" Jazz asked with a huff.

Jason winced at the sudden glimmer in the protégés' eyes.

"You were here with romantic intent?" Robin asked incredulously. "Incredible."

Jazz quirked a curious eyebrow. Her eyes darted to where Jason's decoy gun now hid under his jacket before returning to the elder protégé.

"Well, the Iceberg Lounge isn't exactly a romantic hotspot," Red Robin agreed.

"I hear they have great drinks, though," Jazz interjected with a sly smile and winked in her date's direction.

With a scoff, Jason met Jazz's eyes, an embarrassed blush coloring his cheeks. Regardless, the upward twitch of his lips betrayed admiration and appreciation as he raised the cocktail for another sip.

Red Robin glanced back and forth between the two. Almost instantly, a wicked grin split his face beneath his domino mask. "Just wait till your brothers find out about this," the protégé taunted.

Jazz watched her date still with dread. With a pensive stare, she mused, "You and your family must really be something if even the local vigilantes know who you are."

Whether it be on the iced tea or just air, Jason and the vigilantes all choked.

Easter eggs and references:

- Beverly Hills Iced Tea - a real drink, and one of my favorites, at that, because it's more drinkable than a Long Island and packs a bigger punch. I, too, have a high tolerance, so my drinks need to be *worth it,* you know?

- Arctic Tuxedo - a drink I made up and now have to figure out what I'd put in it because I want to try it now….

- When in doubt, pinkies out - that glorious first season episode of Spongebob where he meets Sandy and Patrick coaches him on etiquette

- Oreo - Of course Jazz compares him to food because she thinks he's a SNACC #thirstyjazz (also I love Oreos)

- Dr. Meridian - Ohoho I bet you didn't expect a Batman Forever namedrop, did you! I am, of course, referring to the incomparable Chase Meridian played by Nicole Kidman in 1995

I had a surprisingly fun time writing this! If you're a longtime follower of mine, you'll know flirting and romance really aren't my vibe. But Jason just deserves so much love, y'all. And I just think he and Jazz are such a fun pairing.

I currently have no plans for a continuation of this fic; it was more an idea I had to get out of my head after I got tagged in that post lol. But, I won't rule it out. Especially because Tim and Damian witnessed the tail end of his love interest unflinchingly facing an A-tier rogue. And who's to say how long it'll be before the other villains start hunting her down, or their goons start seeking her out for themselves?

I'd love to hear what your thoughts and reactions are!

Until next time,

hiimian