A/N - Step Five got very long, so I split it into two chapters. The second half will be out tomorrow night!
Step Five A - Blaze
B was already waiting in his rundown pickup truck a block over from her house with the headlights out and the motor running when Steph showed up at exactly 10 pm the following night for her ride to the BatCave.
She was carrying a purple duffel bag which she had packed with clean sweats to leave in her locker for future spars, as well as some extra undergarments and t-shirts and jeans, those for no particular reason. Really.
And if she was wearing tight jeans tonight that made her ass look amazing, paired with a fitted purple sweater with a deeply plunging V-neck, and if she happened to have on a super sexy eggplant purple lace bra and matching thong underneath, and if she had shaved her legs all the way up - well, sometimes a girl liked to feel good. For herself. Uh huh.
It was called self-care, Steph thought to herself smugly.
Not quite smugly.
"Hi, Steph," B purred in a smoky voice when she got into the truck, his eyes raking her over and looking deeply appreciative.
"Hi, B," she said back a little breathlessly, smiling shyly and soaking up his attention as she pulled the door shut behind her. The smile that he was giving her when she turned back to face him was full of heat - a warm, sunny affection, but layered with crackly sparks of darker desire.
Steph felt her insides begin to melt. They'd gone all strawberry heart flavored during last night's sort-of-maybe-a-date after patrol, leaving her a faintly shivering, barely congealed mess of hope and longing and wonder. But now, under B's heated gaze, she felt herself dissolving into a warm, sticky sauce that made every breath feel a little slower and sweeter.
He kept his eyes firmly on her as she buckled her seatbelt. When she finished and glanced up at him, his hand stretched out almost involuntarily. Strong fingers swept a long strand of blonde hair off of her face and gently tucked it back behind her ear, then slid down and caressed her cheek before retreating.
Her breath hitched. She could hear his breathing, too, loud and heavy, inches away from her. He cleared his throat.
"Damian's over at the penthouse with Dick for the weekend," B said conversationally, reluctantly facing forward and turning the headlights back on before pulling off the curb into traffic.
Steph could hardly contain her squee as her stomach started flipping with excited, nervous energy. A little flurry of happy strawberry butterflies started beating their fruit-slice wings and suddenly broke free from the river of sugary syrup slowly coursing its way throughout her body, splattering her heart with cheerful raindrops of delicious things to come. God, she was glad she'd worn her sexy underwear.
"I'm glad Damian's been spending the weekends with Dick since you came back," she said sincerely, mindlessly fidgeting with the strap of her duffel bag as B drove. "I know he's so happy that you're alive, but Dick's been his dad for the last two years and I'm sure Damian's feeling a little overwhelmed and scared about what's going to change."
"Dick will continue to be Damian's dad," B said reassuringly. "And you'll still be his mom," he added with a sweeter smile, calming some of Steph's secret fears. "These last few weeks have been chaotic and emotional with me suddenly reappearing in your lives, but now that we're all starting to settle into the shock, you, me, and Dick can sit down together and make proper plans for how to co-parent Damian as a team."
"You're always the man with the plan," Steph smiled.
"Is that a bad thing?" he asked, glancing over at her with a hint of uncertainty. Which, huh. Batman was anxious about what Stephanie Brown thought of him? Her heart thudded in her chest at the implications.
"It's not bad at all," she said gently, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. "It shows how much you care about us, that you put so much thought into everything you do."
Except for the time he hadn't, when he'd fired her, but that always hung between them like a pendulum. She didn't need to mention it, or God forbid, swing it at him like a weapon. Especially since it was, she suspected, part of the reason for his abundance of cautious concern in the present around Damian's emotional well-being. B smiled over at her but Steph could see in the lights of the oncoming traffic that his eyes were a little sad.
"Damian had it the roughest, I think, when you all thought I was gone," he said. He sighed. "I know how much it must have hurt each of you to lose me, but when you're a child and it's your parent -" He swallowed hard and reached out for her, and she automatically gripped his hand in support.
"Life is messy, B," she said quietly, thinking of her baby growing up in someone else's family. "You can't always protect your kids from that," she said, sadness creeping into her own voice. His eyes flashed knowingly at her as he squeezed her fingers tighter and brushed his thumb across her knuckles. A soft sigh escaped her throat without meaning to, and she saw the corners of his mouth turn up the slightest bit.
He took his hand back when he had to change gears, and Steph bit her lip at the emptiness she felt. She twisted her bag strap in her hand for something to hold, and she couldn't be sure, but she got the feeling that B knew exactly what she was doing and why. Instead of feeling embarrassed or awkward, though, she felt warm and wanted.
"I bought a Bruce Springsteen album," she announced to lift the slightly somber mood.
"Yeah?" B said, his face lighting up. "Which one?" he asked, glancing over at her eagerly.
"A greatest hits album," Steph said and to her shock, B groaned loudly.
"Oh, my God," he muttered in not-quite-mock-disgust. "Kids today…" he said.
"I'm not a kid," she protested, giggling, pretty sure that he damn well knew that.
"Honey," B said, looking over at her in a way that made her flush, "until you appreciate the artistic concept of an album, which is not a random collection of singles," he said pointedly, "you've got no business calling yourself an adult," he said.
"So educate me then, oh great and wise Batman," she laughed. He grunted at her.
"Believe me, I will," he growled and oh, God, her panties were getting a little wet. "Start with Born in the USA," he said to her. "The album, not the song," he added. "That's one of my favorites," he said. "It has a lot of themes about justice, and treasuring where you're from."
"I'll get it," she promised, grinning up at him in amusement.
"What's so funny?" he asked her suspiciously. "You're surprised I like music about justice?" he said a little defensively.
"No," she replied, still smiling at him. "You're just really cute when you're all excited about something," she said. B jerked a little bit and looked at her sharply.
"Cute?" he said gruffly.
"Uh huh," she giggled in delight. "I've never seen you like this before," she said to him as he rolled down his window and punched in the code to open the gate for the Drake's service access driveway that wound through their property to the secluded back entrance of Wayne Manor. "I like it," she added more softly. B raised an eyebrow at her.
"I'll remember that," he said in a low gravelly voice that made her tummy clench.
They drifted into a charged silence as he drove them along the tree-lined backroads of Tim's family estate, past the garage and tennis court, finally turning off onto what seemed more like a dirt footpath than a road. It was drivable, however, and led to a heavy-duty gate in the perimeter fence of Wayne Manor's grounds.
B rolled down his window again to press his thumb to the sensor, letting in a cool breeze of night air, which Steph's hot cheeks appreciated. She took a deep breath and silently let it out as he drove them through the woods on the back half of his property, then past the barn, and finally up to an expansive garage that revealed, when they entered, a host of sleek, expensive sports cars, mixed in with some nondescript sedans and a few limos.
"Do you want to stay for dinner again tonight after patrol?" B asked after he parked the pickup, meeting Steph's eyes with blazing purpose instead of getting out of the truck.
"Yeah," she immediately answered in a half-whisper. She'd been almost positive that he would ask, but the absolutely absurdly amazing wonder of Batman wanting to date her was still hard to believe. God, she was so glad that she wasn't imagining his interest - or his intentions.
"Good," B said in a low voice, looking like he'd rather forget dinner and eat her up right then and there. The air between them seemed to sizzle and crackle for a minute before he forced himself to look away and get out of the truck. Steph opened her door and jumped down from the cab, too, bringing her duffel bag with her. When B came around the truck to her side, he lifted it off of her shoulder without a word and put it on his.
"Thanks," she said softly, into the shadows of moonlight flitting through the darkened garage. The bag barely weighed a pound with how little was in it, but the smile bouncing around on her lips felt absolutely weightless. B barely nodded and then he was reaching down, confidently taking her hand in his and interlocking their fingers, and Steph thought her heart would stop.
His calloused palm squeezed tight against her own hardened hand, both made tough from years of wielding grappling hooks and batarangs and escrima sticks, and the matching texture of his hand felt comfortable and reassuring, like home. As B led her outside and down the walkway to the mansion's back entrance, Steph felt like she would have floated away if not for his hand anchoring her to reality, even though it was simultaneously the cause of her zero-G moment.
The smile that he gave her when they stepped into the lighted hallway of the house was tender but absolutely dazzling. Steph knew her own smile had to look goofy, because her cheeks hurt from how wide they were stretched, but B seemed unfazed by it. In fact, if she looked really closely at the corners of his eyes, his typically smooth veneer was dissolving into excited wrinkles from his own inner joy.
"Can I tag along on your patrol tonight?" he asked her, swinging their joined hands together as their eyes silently communicated with the language of electricity and sparks and flames.
"Of course," Steph said, her smile stretching even bigger than she'd previously believed was possible without the benefit of Joker-gas. B smiled back just as wide and gave her hand another tight squeeze before leading her through the back rooms of the mansion to the hidden Batcave entrance in the conservatory.
He held her hand the whole time.
Patrol with B was infinitely better than patrolling by herself, Steph decided.
She found herself smiling again and again as they dropped down on villains, knocking out muggers and thieves, messing up would-be rapists, and cleaning up what they could in a city that was perpetually grimy no matter how often they scrubbed it.
"You light up when you fight," B told her towards the end of the night as they regained the roofs after a particularly brutal run-in with some gang members.
"Yeah?" she said, grinning up at him as she wiped her bloody lip on her sleeve.
"Yeah," he echoed, moving in closer. "Here, let me look at that," he said gently, pulling some alcohol wipes out of his Batbelt.
"It's fine," she tried to say, but his fingers were already on her jaw tilting it towards the light of the garish neon billboard on the next building over.
"Hold still," he ordered her, a note of amusement layering his growl with something fluttery and wonderful. He looked down and caught her eyes with his, holding her gaze for a moment with a look of pure affection before ripping open the sterile packet to clean her cut.
"When you fight," he said again, returning to his earlier observation, "I've never seen anyone look so radiantly joyful while throwing punches." His mouth actually curled up the slightest bit as he spoke, while he carefully attended to her lip.
"That's how I look?" Steph asked in wonder. B nodded.
"What are you thinking about when you're out there?" he asked her curiously as he stuffed the used wet wipe back into his Batbelt. She turned a little red and hoped that he couldn't see it in the shadowy night.
"Tonight, well, I was happy we were fighting together," she said bashfully.
"Were you?" he asked her in pleased surprise. She blushed harder and nodded.
"It was different when I was Robin," Steph said, looking away for a minute. "I was more of a liability than a fighter back then," she muttered.
"You were never a liability," B protested softly, startling her by cradling her cheek with his gloved hand and turning her face back to his.
"I was so young and I hardly knew what I was doing," she tried to say, her heart beating wildly as his reinforced glove gently stroked her cheek. He chuckled at her words, though, dropping his hand in the process and letting her face go, and her heart mourned the loss.
"You were Robin," Batman said matter-of-factly. "Being young and at the beginning of your training is pretty much the job description." He paused.
"I'm actually surprised that Damian hasn't lobbied me for a different sidekick name yet," he said. "He's vastly overqualified for the Robin gig." Steph burst out laughing and even B got some crinkles at the corner of his mouth.
"You ready to head home?" he asked her, and the fact that he called it home probably didn't mean anything. It was his home, after all, but Steph felt included in the word and she was going to enjoy the happy feeling and pretend like she belonged at Wayne Manor, too.
"Yeah, B. Let's go home," she said.
A/N - More to come! This fic is completely written. I'm publishing one new chapter a night.
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