A/N - TW - mention of Steph helping a rape victim. The attack isn't described, but the aftermath is briefly described. If you want to skip this part, stop reading at the word "Patrol" that's in bold. You can pick up again at the word "We" in bold. The only plot you'll miss is Batman offering to join Steph for the rest of her patrol, since she's a little rattled, and Steph accepting.

Step Four - Flame

It was almost a week after Steph's dinner at the Manor when she turned around one dark night on patrol and jumped out of her skin. Batman was at her elbow, on top of the random roof that Batgirl had just landed on.

"Holy shit, B! You scared me!" she gasped, and he actually chuckled.

Out loud.

In the Batsuit.

W h a t.

"Sorry," he said, but he didn't sound like he was. He sounded playful. And… cute.

(Not cute. No. Definitely not cute. Right? He was Batman! Except - ) Steph broke her train of thought by snorting.

"Liar," she said back to him, just as playfully. B gave her one of his Batgrins that didn't involve his mouth, and, well, that was a little more in character.

"What's up?" she asked him curiously.

The old Steph would have been suspicious that he was checking up on her during patrol. The old Steph would have sarcastically reminded him that Oracle was her supervisor, not him. New Steph felt like exploding into giant heart balloons because Batman had paid his Batgirl an unexpected late-night visit. New Steph was not very wise.

"Can you come by the Batcave after your patrol tonight?" he asked her. "I have something there I need to give you."

"Oh," New Steph said, surprised and even more pleased. Maybe he had new tech to give her? Or a suit upgrade? That would be great. And was surely the only reason why her belly felt all twisty like a pretzel with excitement over his invitation. (Yeah, New Steph wished.)

"Sure," she said, completely unable to repress her happy smile. "I can come over."

"Good," B said, and then - what the hell - he reached out and gently squeezed her upper arm. Affectionately. And let his hand linger. Steph's brain short-circuited.

Friendly. B was just being friendly, she chanted to herself. Right? Right. Friendly.

But … B was never friendly.

And - oh shit.

When in the last two seconds had she started leaning into his touch and swaying towards him? And WHY WAS HE STILL STANDING THERE, STROKING HER ARM WITH HIS THUMB?

Shouldn't Batman have slipped off the building into the shadows by now, his communicative mission accomplished? Shouldn't he have taken his hand away? Shouldn't she not be cozying up to him? Was he - what - could he be -

"How's patrol going?" he asked, sounding like he was genuinely interested. Which was freakin awesome, that he wanted to stay and chat - except for the fact that he let her arm go as he asked the question. Holy let-down, Batman, Steph moaned to herself, before snapping back to reality.

Get your fucking head together, Steph, she mentally chastised herself. So B was being friendly. So what. They were both adults now. Maybe he was friendlier towards his adult colleagues than to his kid sidekicks.

(YouTube videos captured by intrepid civilian gawkers passed unbidden through her mind: Batman snarling at the Green Lantern. Batman snapping at Green Arrow. Batman bossing Flash and Wonder Woman and Superman around. While snarling and snapping and snarking at them. Um. Well. That was Batman in mission mode. Maybe he was friendlier to his colleagues in the Watchtower Commissary? Maybe?)

Anyway, he'd been lost in time for two years. Maybe that had mellowed him out. He must have been lonely. Anxious about finding a way back home. Worried about his Bats trying to cope without him. Hell, even missing them.

So, it would be silly for her to assume that B was, oh, say, indicating romantic interest in her with his newfound friendliness. God. That felt ridiculous to even think. She fought a blush in the dark. God, she was such a fucking idiot.

"Patrol hasn't been too bad," she said, trying to sound perfectly normal. "Stopped a couple of muggings earlier. Helped a rape victim get to the hospital," she frowned, some lingering emotions creeping up her throat.

That one had torn her up inside. She had heard the woman crying in the alley but the perps were already gone. The paramedics who showed up were all males, too, and when the victim - Kelsey - had begged Batgirl to ride along with her in the ambulance, Steph couldn't say no. But she knew that she probably wouldn't have to worry about nightmares tonight, because she'd be lucky to get any sleep at all. Beside her; B made an empathetic grunt.

"I'm glad we have a woman on the team," he said with feeling. "Who can be in the field, that is," he added. Because Oracle was obviously an integral team member and she could still kick major ass from her wheelchair when needed, but she preferred to work behind the scenes these days.

"I hope Cass can come home soon, too," he added, with a wistful look in his eyes for his absent daughter.

"You and me both," Steph said sadly, thinking how much she missed her best friend.

"You want some company for the rest of your patrol?" he asked her, surprising her again until she saw the compassionate look on his face. Damned BatRadar. He knew the rape was still bothering her.

But even though she didn't like being so easy to read, Steph didn't actually feel one single scrap of irritation at all at his offer of company. She was, in fact, a bit of an emotional mess at the moment and some support would be amazing. And if that didn't show how much she had grown, that she was not only willing to receive help, but actively welcomed it - well. Her growth had come at quite the cost, and Steph felt like she still was making payments on it.

"I'd love some company, B," she said warmly. "Thank you," she added more softly. He reached out (again!) and squeezed her shoulder.

"We may have to back up Robin if he runs into anything too dangerous on his patrol," he said when he let her go (too soon!) and led them towards the roof's edge. "But I can think of worse things than fighting with my two favorite Robins at my side," he finished somewhat playfully. Steph heard the twinkle in his eyes that she couldn't see and it made her smile.

"Should I tell the rest of the Robins that you said that?" she teased back. He gave a grunt that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

"Who do you think informed me who my favorite Robins were?" he said mischievously. Steph laughed out loud then, as they shot their grappling hooks onto the next building and swung off together into the night.

"Hi, Damian," Steph said, when she entered the Batcave later that night. B had stayed by her side for the whole rest of her patrol - and it had been so nice. Incredibly, comfortingly, woozily warm fuzzies nice. She almost hated that her patrol was over, although she was always glad to see Damian, not to mention curious about what B had to give her.

"Hello, Batgirl," Damian said politely.

He was in his civilian clothes already, but since Steph was still masked, codenames Damian would use - despite the fact that the three of them were alone in the BatCave. Her pseudo-son's sweet little eccentricities always brought a smile to her face, and this time was no exception.

Steph was inexpressibly fond of Little D. She'd pitched in hard to help Dick parent him over the last two years, since B had been gone, and she had no plans to stop now just because Batman had returned. No one could ever have too many parents, she thought with a smile.

Besides, she'd never admitted it to anyone, not even to Dick, but being there for Damian was helping her cope with the fact that her own daughter was growing up apart from her, with another family. If she could do for another lonely, needy kid what she hoped that her daughter's adoptive family was doing for her - well, it helped soothe the soul-deep wound of giving her infant daughter away six years ago.

Damian, for his part, pretended that he only tolerated her, but Steph was well aware that he secretly loved her back as much as she loved him, and that knowledge brought her endless joy and no small amount of pride.

"How did patrol go, son?" B asked, as he slipped the Batcowl off and ran a hand through his tangled mass of hopelessly attractive, slightly gray-tinged curls.

"Very well, Father," Damian said. "No problems to report."

"Good," B replied, bending down to kiss the top of his son's head. "I'm proud of you for handling patrol on your own tonight," he said, and Steph felt a sudden rush of tears well up in her eyes, because B had changed.

Gone was the stern, cold, unsympathetic Batman that Steph's Robin had once worked with. Was it finally reconciling with Jason that had caused the change, she wondered? Or was it a maturity gained from firmly advancing into middle-age that had softened him up? Or maybe his time spent away from his family, lost in the past?

It could be possible, though, that maybe, just maybe, B's change in demeanor might have something to do with her. Steph couldn't help but hope that his devastation over the accidental consequences of his callous decisions as her Batman had given him a firm resolve to never again make the same mistakes with a Robin.

That would be a legacy that she could be proud of, to have inadvertently molded Batman into a better person through both of their mistakes. And the fact that it was her pseudo-son who was actively reaping all the benefits of a more caring B? That made his personality change even more meaningful.

In any case, it was good - so good - to see him, fresh out of the gates with a new Robin, being so tender and encouraging. Steph felt her heart swell and quickly wiped away the bits and pieces of her happiness and gratitude that were leaking out of her eyes in big wet drops.

"Remember," B was saying to Damian, "I always expect you to call for help in an emergency. If I ever find out that you tried to handle something on your own when you should have called for backup, you'll lose the privilege of patrolling by yourself."

"Yes, Father," Damian said obediently. B bent down to pull him into a tight hug before kissing his son's cheek, and Damian didn't even flinch away from it. Her smile grew wider and a little more wobbly as she watched him tentatively hug his father back.

"I need to talk to Steph for a bit," B said to him, "but you get to bed, son. Tomorrow's a school day. I love you," he added. Damian's eyes brightened.

"Good night, Father," he said. "Good night, Batgirl," Damian added when his father released him, but no way was Steph going to let her child get away with such formality. "Aaggh," the boy cried as Steph flung her arms around him, giving him a big bear hug and pressing a kiss into his hair.

"I love you, too," Steph said with a grin.

"You are not completely abhorrent," Damian sighed with great affliction of soul. Steph giggled and even B's lips twitched in amusement as Damian made his way to the elevator. B gave Steph a warm look afterwards, as she slipped her cowl and gloves off and set them down on the Batcomputer console.

"He loves you," he said in wonder.

"It took him a long time," Steph smiled. "And he'll swear he doesn't. But, yeah. He does."

"Thank you," he said, "for everything you've done for him, Steph. I didn't realize when I first got back a few weeks ago how much you've been involved in his life. Dick filled me in this week about how you've basically co-parented Damian with him, and I'm so incredibly grateful," he said roughly, his own eyes looking more than a little wet.

Shit, Steph was tearing up again, too. Oh well.

"I'm grateful, too," she said, "to have Damian in my life." She cleared her throat. "You know I gave my baby up," she said, and then she bit her lip hard and couldn't go on. B was nodding, though, like he got it, and giving her a gentle smile that looked like it was taking the place of words that he couldn't get out, either.

"Thanks for coming over tonight," he said to her, coughing slightly into a welcome change of subject. And such a simple statement really shouldn't give her a fizzy rush of soda bubbles in her belly, but dammit, it did. Steph had to repress the urge to bounce up and down on her toes.

"Thanks for asking me," she said instead, smiling up at B. "What's going on?" He slid open one of the desk drawers under the Batcomputer and took out a small plastic card, which he handed to her.

"I want you to have this," he said, "but I didn't want to take it out on patrol with me." Steph stared at the black credit card in her hand with the name Stephanie Brown imprinted on it. Her mind went blank.

"It's linked to my account," B said. "And I expect to see charges on it every week," he added sternly when she lifted her eyes to him in numb non-comprehension.

"Charges for what?" she asked, feeling at an utter loss.

"Groceries, gas, coffee, takeout, I don't care," he said. "Clothes, movies, anything you want. I want to take care of you." Steph's jaw dropped while she gaped at him. Because she was sure he didn't mean it to sound that way, but -

"You want to be my sugar daddy?" she blurted out with no filter. B's eyes popped open wide and now he was the one staring at her like a goldfish.

"No!" he said quickly, looking alarmed and confused and - was he starting to blush? Holy crap!

"NO," he said again, with panicked emphasis, but she began to giggle, and his shoulders slumped in relief.

"You're bad," he said, reaching out to tweak her nose affectionately while he weakly chuckled with her. "You know what I mean. Right?" he asked her, still sounding the slightest bit worried.

"Yeah," Steph said slowly. "I guess. I knew it wasn't about sex," she smirked, looking down and fingering the edges of the card. "But I don't completely understand why you're doing this," she said, gnawing on her lip.

"Yes, you do," he said quietly. Steph raised her eyes to meet his, and, well, yeah. The thing was, she did understand. She didn't want to, but she did. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"B, you don't have to," she started to say hoarsely, but he stepped forward and gently folded his hands around hers, which were still nervously fiddling with the card.

"Let me do this for you," he said softly, his eyes locking with hers.

Steph forgot how to breathe. B's hands were warm, and despite being rough with callouses, his fingers were featherlight and soft against her skin, and they were giving her goosebumps as they mindlessly traced circles on the backs of her hands. His eyes were so blue, and so intense, staring into hers with something so deep and magnetic and -

"Ok," she whispered. "Thank you," she added, more audibly, and he nodded, keeping her hands enfolded in his without breaking eye contact.

"Buy whatever you want," he said, squeezing her hands lightly. "I mean that. Any luxury you can think of. But spend it on the necessities, too."

"Ok, Daddy," Steph teased, trying to lighten the mood, but it came out a lot breathier than she intended. She couldn't quite get in enough oxygen with each breath, and the soda fizzies from earlier were spreading both up and down her body - oh - ohh - and at this point, if this was all in her head, she was gonna drive straight to Arkham Asylum and check herself in.

B cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Ok, baby girl," he growled back. Ohhh-kay, now Steph was the one blushing. And hoooooly hotness, her panties were wet. Um. She took her hands back from him as quickly as she could without being obvious about it, and broke eye contact.

"How, uh, how I am supposed to get the card home if you don't want me carrying it in my Batbelt?" she asked, carefully not meeting his eyes as she looked the card over with intense, excessive interest.

"You can leave your Batsuit here and change into your sweats," he told her. He had insisted that she leave her workout clothes in a Batlocker after their training session last week, promising that he'd have her over again soon so they could actually spar, whenever she felt up to it.

"I'll drive you home tonight," he added easily. "In a non-billionaire, non-Bat car," he smirked. "And I'll pick you up for patrol tomorrow night. You'll have to come over and change first, since your suit will be here," he said.

"Ok," Steph said casually, even though inside she was giddily squealing and jumping up and down and doing backflips and somersaults. Because B was giving her a ride home? AND picking her up tomorrow? "What about the paparazzi?" she asked him suddenly, remembering that he wouldn't let civilian Steph use the main gate of Wayne Manor last week.

"We have a second civilian driveway that the paps don't know about," he said in a relaxed voice. "It connects to the back of the Drake property where it borders ours and exits to the road through their smaller service driveway. It'll be fine."

"Ok," Steph said again, trying to calm her insides, because REALITY, Brain, HELLO! Come in for a landing! It probably didn't mean anything, after all. She was being ridiculous. So B was gonna drive her around a little bit as Bruce Wayne. So what.

It was totally legit to feel flattered that he was revealing another secret entrance to her, though, she decided. And a civilian one at that! She could accept that sign of increased trust with grace and without fantastical Cupids shooting heart-infested batarangs at her, surely.

His hands getting all wrapped up around hers a second ago, though? Yeah. Steph didn't quite think that she had a non-fantastical explanation for that - and she damn well didn't want to.

"I'll go get changed," she said, tamping down the swirling puzzle in her brain of conflicting vs. corroborating evidence for her stupid heart-shaped hopes. Leave it to Batgirl to be a damned Bat-detective about whether or not Batman was into her, she mentally sighed.

"You can change first," he offered when they got to the locker room, since they had to take turns. This time, she managed to avoid a flashback and made it out in record time.

"I'll just be a minute," B said when she reappeared in her freshly laundered-by-Alfred sweats, and she nodded, moving to lean against the cool, slightly damp cave wall outside the locker room. She was playing on her phone and didn't notice that he had come back out, until his voice drew her attention.

"Are you hungry?" he asked her, leaning against the doorframe watching her, looking sexy as fuck in a tight t-shirt and black joggers. Steph stared at him, too busy drooling to answer. "I always like to eat after patrol," he continued. "You can join me before I take you home, if you want…?"

"Sure," she said stupidly, trying to get her brain to process what was happening. B was asking her to stay for dinner…?

Did that mean - could it - ?

Steph didn't know, but she sure as hell was going to stick around and find out. It's what any good Bat-detective would do, after all, she thought to herself smugly as she and B walked side by side to the elevator, not quite bumping shoulders. That wasn't her imagination, how close he was walking to her - was it?

The manor was dark as they walked through the house in companionable silence. When they got to the kitchen, the lights were off and Alfred was nowhere to be seen. Steph settled herself on a stool at the kitchen island after B snapped the lights on, but she raised her eyebrows in surprise when he pulled out a pan and a knife and opened the refrigerator.

"You're cooking?" she asked him. She had almost expected Alfred to still be hovering around to take care of the vigilante's every need, or to at least have stocked the fridge with leftovers to be microwaved. But B was chuckling.

"Yes, I'm cooking," he said. "Alfred went to bed hours ago."

"You know how to cook?" she had to clarify, because wow. She would not have expected that out of Bruce Wayne. And not because he was a billionaire, but because she'd thought that Alfred did everything domestic for him and then some. Steph realized that she'd had the fuzzy, childlike notion that the butler never slept, but spent his time fluttering around the house like one of the literall bats in the Batcave, tidying up and cooking and fussing over his Master Bruce non-stop.

B was full-on grinning at her now, with his dashingly sexy smile that she still wasn't used to seeing, as he began slicing onions and green peppers on a marble cutting board on the island, facing her so he could chat.

"I was raised by Alfred Pennyworth," he laughed. "You'd better believe that he taught me how to cook."

"Oh," Steph said in surprise.

"And how to do laundry, and iron my shirts, and scrub mildew out of a shower," he added, his eyes twinkling as he cut and sliced vegetables with Batman-like precision and speed.

"I'm amazed," Steph said honestly.

"You thought I was just rich, lazy, and handsome?" he quipped with a smirk as he chopped up some broccoli, too.

"Not lazy," she clarified. "Spoiled, maybe."

"So you think I'm handsome?" he said, meeting her eyes with a smoldering sparkle in his, and oh holy God, he was flirting with her.

B. Batman. Bruce Wayne. Was flirting. With Stephanie Brown.

Holy. Fuck.

Yes, please.

Steph's solar plexus squeezed out a cloud of magical fairy dust that made her feel like she could float right off of the barstool.

"You're ok," she said nonchalantly, leaning forward to grab a slice of green pepper to munch on, then yelping when B cracked a dish towel against her hand.

"Just ok?" he smirked, his way-past-five-o-clock shadow coating his sexy as fuck jaw, and his sapphire blue eyes twinkling with inner depths of starlight, and his messy, curly, definitely-not-yet-a-silver-fox-but-would-be-a-damn-fine-one-in-ten-years hair begging her fingers to bury themselves in their knots and twists, and -

Steph squinted at him.

"I mean, you're a little old, but you're still kind of good looking, I guess, despite that," she said thoughtfully. He laughed out loud and threw a broccoli head at her - which her hand snapped out and caught. His eyebrows flew up.

"Nice reflexes, Batgirl," he said, sounding impressed.

"Thanks," she said casually, popping the broccoli into her mouth. But she felt warm all over from his compliment.

He chatted with her while he sliced the chicken into strips, and as he poured her a glass of wine, and as he cooked the stir-fry, asking her about her interests in movies and music and food, until Steph felt like she was Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole, except she was hoping desperately to find her Wonderland at the bottom.

If only, if only -

"I've never really listened to that much Bruce Springsteen," she said in response to learning who his favorite musician was, and the look of horror he gave her was priceless. "I'm too young," she added helpfully, which only made him groan in anguish.

"He's still releasing new albums!" B protested. Steph shrugged.

"We live in Gotham City!" he added to the litany of her sins. "We're only a few hours from Asbury Park!"

"What's Asbury Park?" Steph said innocently.

B groaned loud and long and turned the heat down on the stove. He came up behind her and began massaging her shoulders while she sat on the stool. A soft sigh escaped her mouth as his strong thumbs and fingers did far more than relax her muscles.

"I am going to take you to the next concert the Boss does in Asbury Park," B growled with his mouth up to her ear, his hot breath giving her shivers as it tickled her earlobe, "and you will love it."

"Ok," Steph breathed out, because honestly, he could have decreed anything in that moment and she would have said yes. Double yes. Hell to the yes.

"Buy yourself some iTunes albums with that credit card," he added, sliding his hands sensually down her back and then squeezing her waist before returning to the stove.

"Ok, Daddy," Steph mumbled in a daze, feeling like her panties had just melted off. She had meant it to be a joke, but the fiery look that he blazed her way in return sucked all of the moisture from her mouth and leaked it out her other end.

"Don't disappoint me, baby girl," he ordered in a stern, gravelly tone, and Steph mutely shook her head. He thankfully had to turn around to attend to the stir-fry on the stove, so she reached for her wine glass, gulping down a large mouthful. The wine didn't do anything at all to help with the inferno of lust raging throughout her body, but at least her mouth wasn't dry anymore.

When their meal was ready, B set her plate in front of her at the island and seated himself intimately close to her on the next barstool over. Close enough that he could definitely-not-accidentally brush her elbow with his from time to time, and bump his knee up against hers while they ate, as he continued to tease information out of her about who Stephanie Brown was outside of Batgirl.

Which, she supposed, he had never really known. Aside from being Spoiler, having a baby at fifteen, dating Tim for several years, and now attending college, Stephanie Brown, Person, was an unknown to Batman.

And oh - ugh - she had dated Tim. Back when Tim's parents were alive, sure, but now he was B's adopted son. Oh, that was going to be awkward. Beyond awkward. On so many levels. But the thing was, she and Tim had already left awkward in the dust at this point and moved on to downright uncomfortable. So… if Steph dated his new dad, maybe it was just one more log on the fire of burned friendship.

Was she about to fuck up B's parental relationship with Tim, though? That would be kind of shitty, she supposed. But that was kind of B's own problem to worry about, right? If he seriously wanted to date her? Which, unbelievably, incredibly, it absolutely seemed like what he was working up to. Holy heart attack, Batman!

But B wasn't just Batman. He was Bruce Wayne, billionaire, Steph suddenly reminded herself, with anxiety clawing at her stomach. Sure, B might want to date her - but was he planning to keep her his dirty little secret? That would definitely make his life easier - well, both of their lives - but it wouldn't make her life happier, she realized with growing dismay.

She didn't want to be some tucked away fuckbuddy, too shameful to bring around in public. And, oh God, maybe he was planning to hide their - whatever it might be - from Tim and the Bats, too. No. Fuck no. She wanted a real relationship. An actual, out in the open, romantic relationship that she didn't have to hide.

She was so damn exhausted from the way that she had to hide almost everything real about her life from ordinary people - Batgirl, and her Bat-friendships, and her Wayne-friendships, and her mom's former drug addiction, and her own nightmares, and her scars, and her PTSD, and - God, she was an idiot. No way would B ever want -

"Where did you go?" he asked with concern, laying a hand on her forearm and making her jump. Steph realized with a start that she had frozen in place with a piece of chicken suspended mid-air on her fork. "Are you ok?" he said, and she realized that he was worried that she was having another flashback.

"Yeah, um, just spaced out for a minute," she said, giving him a forced little smile and trying profusely not to blush. His eyes looked worried and tender and God, how much she wanted to lose herself in them, to bury herself in the comfort of B and never come up for air. She had been alone for so, so long. Steph felt a sudden, gnawing dread in the pit of her belly, because there was an uncomfortable truth there that was screaming for her attention.

Her sad reality was that any way B wanted her, she would let him have her - even if that meant that he kept her a secret.

Fuck. She was weak.

His hand was rubbing soothing circles on her back now, and she had to blink away the tears. He wouldn't know, but his caring, platonic touch felt better to her in that moment than anything sexual possibly could have. She sighed. She was so screwed.

"I can box up the rest of your dinner for you to take home, if you want," he said to her gently, noticing that she wasn't making any motion to finish her food.

"Yeah," she whispered, turning her head sideways to look at him. Oh, damn, his face was practically touching hers. And even more handsome up close than - SHUT UP, STEPH - she screamed at her brain.

"Thanks, B," she said with a little more strength to her voice and he nodded, giving the back of her neck a little squeeze before standing to take her plate away.

As Steph watched him moving around the kitchen, cleaning up, all she could think was that she was going to pay whatever the price was to have him and whatever pieces of love and comfort he was offering her - whether it bled her dry in the end or not.

Shit.

About half an hour later, B shut his pickup truck's headlights off just before pulling up in front of Steph's childhood house, where she still lived with her mom - since she'd been paying for college on her own, and all.

"I'll pick you up the next street over tomorrow night at ten," he said, and she nodded.

"Thanks, B, and thanks for dinner," she said.

"Use that card," he said with a hint of playfulness on top of his tone, but Steph heard Batman's command coming through loud and clear underneath it.

"I'll use it," she promised, as she reached for the door handle. She hesitated for the barest moment as she swung the door open. In a burst of courage, she quickly leaned in and brushed a kiss onto his stubbly cheek, before rebounding backwards as fast as she could to escape.

But B was faster, because of course he was. Before she'd even finished swinging her feet sideways to jump down, his hand had flung out and caught hers, and she was abruptly tugged back towards him. In the flickering light of the streetlamps, his eyes glittered as he made eye contact and slowly, deliberately lifted her hand to his mouth.

Steph swore she could hear her heart thundering when B pressed a kiss to her palm, before gently nuzzling it with his jaw.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Steph," he said with dark promise, barely audible over her rapid, heavy breathing.

Words stuck in her throat. Steph sat frozen for a long minute before suddenly squeezing his fingers tight and pulling away. Her hands were shaking as much as her pussy was quivering when she fumbled her way out of the truck and quietly shut the door. B stayed put and watched her from the shadows until she was safely inside her house before he drove off.

Steph leaned her back against her front door as soon as she had shut and locked it behind her, and ran a trembling hand through her long blond hair, brushing it back from her head.

"Please tell me this is really happening," she whispered in a fervent prayer.

She didn't hear an answer, but she had a Tupperware container of leftover stir fry in her hand and a billionaire's black credit card in her sports bra, and Steph supposed those were pretty good clues as to her current grasp of reality.

Sleep didn't come easy to her that night, but Steph didn't mind the rosy champagne bubbles of B that kept floating up through her drowsy consciousness one bit.

A/N - More to come! This fic is completely written. I'm posting one new chapter a night.

You can follow me on Tumblr as River9Noble.