Chapter 7

He slammed his mask on the bathroom counter and stepped in the shower, tossing off his black uniform in the process. The metal alloy reinforcements on the garment clinked sharply against the bathroom floor but Slade didn't hear the sound. His index finger punched the digital water temperature readout higher until the shower was steaming hot, and for a few moments stood still. When the shower was done and his brain had stopped buzzing he stepped out and mindlessly dried off before wrapping a towel around his waist. Slicking back his white hair, he adjusted his eye patch and stepped into the bedroom, stopping short in the doorway.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" He asked frigidly, his gaze locked on the woman in his bed.

She lounged in the middle of the bed like she owned it, arms casually draped out over the pillows as she smiled her soft little smile at him. Her blonde hair was loose and fell over one eye as she stretched, the white sheet that covered her sliding lower and lower down her chest and drawing his gaze like a magnet.

"Waiting for you," she sighed, "Aren't you coming to bed?"

"That's enough," Slade said, his tone uncertain as he drew closer, "Stop this foolishness now."

He could see the outline of her body under the sheet and she slid one leg out from under it, pointing her toe and looking up at him expectantly. The long, lean muscles of her bare thigh taunted him, and against his own volition he moved forward to sit on the edge of the bed.

"You should leave," he continued warily, his hand touching her calf as she reached up for him, beckoning him closer.

Trailing his fingers up her leg, he leaned in and stared into her green eyes, drowning in them until he closed his own and pressed his mouth against hers—

Beep….beep…beep….beep…

"Damn it," Slade swore, jerking awake and slamming a hand down on the alarm.

He gave a low growl and threw the blanket off of himself, stomping to the bathroom to splash cold water on his sweating face. He glared at himself in the mirror, displeased. A disheveled, blue-eyed man with uncombed white hair glared back. All the meditation and the exercise…what was it worth if he couldn't control his thoughts? But dreams weren't thoughts, were they? They were just random, unorganized synapses in the brain, left over from a day's worth of thinking.

Thinking about things he shouldn't.

It had been one week since they had sent Terra on her merry way, and the girl was adapting well, from what Diana was reporting. Perhaps Slade should have been thinking more about Terra and less about her older sister, since so far Terra's placement was working out nicely. Diana had been able to tap into the girl's communicator and Terra had brought a laptop with her to Titans Tower. Eventually she'd be able to get a full schematic of the security system. But that was a job for another day.

He grabbed a pair of black tactical pants and slid on a black t-shirt. Black socks, black shoes. No armor today, no mask. It was Monday. For the rest of the world, that meant the start of a work week. Back to the salt mines, back to corporate 9-5. For Slade and Diana, it meant down time. The beginning of the week, he had explained to his solemn young employee years ago, signaled the beginning of the rest of the world going on high alert. While nonetheless resentful about the weekend's end, companies rotated out the weekend shift of guards and replaced them with their better, full-time staff. Policemen were more vigilant on their patrols; guards more thorough in their rounds. Why attack or steal or destroy anything on the days when the people watching for it are more prepared?

Slade casually walked into the kitchen and was greeted with the sight of Diana peeling an orange. She sat cross-legged in a chair, back straight, as she looked down at her long, slim fingers. They deftly worked at the brightly-colored fruit, cradling it over a napkin. When she plucked a small piece of skin off of it she flicked it into a small bowl and went back to peeling, biting her lip in concentration. Her hair was braided, and a few strands had escaped the severe style to frame her face.

"Good morning," she said, glancing up at him before looking back at her breakfast.

He was aware that she loved orange juice and would drink it by the gallon if she could. However, if Diana drank it in the morning it made her extremely drowsy, no matter how much rest she'd gotten. Oranges were the next best thing and didn't make her want to fall asleep. Slade stood in the kitchen and silently hated himself for knowing such trivial information.

"Morning," he replied finally, nodding at Wintergreen when the older man walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning to both of you," Wintergreen rasped, "I've put on some tea."

Slade eased himself into a chair across from Diana and for a moment she paused in her motions, her green eyes flickering up at him before looking back down, ever-sensitive to any change of routine. He didn't sit with her very often. Of course, he didn't send her little sister off to spy on the Titans very often either. Seven days had passed since Terra's successful integration into the team and so far she hadn't managed to screw anything up, but that didn't mean that Diana had relaxed. Or did it?

"Thank you," she said to Wintergreen as he brought her and Slade steaming mugs of tea before walking into the hallway.

At the moment Diana seemed totally at ease. She didn't have dark circles under her eyes and her expression remained neutral as she sipped her drink. He had the illogical urge to reach out and tuck her bangs, which had fallen over one eye, behind her ear. Slade kept his restraint, and when Diana looked up she absentmindedly did the deed herself.

"Could we spar today?" She queried, "Last week you said I needed to work on defending at my left side."

"If you'd like. You should do more with the bo staff as well."

Diana wrinkled her nose.

"I am well aware that you aren't fond of it," Diana's boss continued mildly, "But it's a valuable tool. Eventually you'll learn to think of it as an extension of your own body and we can put that dancer's grace to good use."

Her cheeks turned pink and she nodded, tracing one slim finger around the edge of her mug of tea.

"Eat your breakfast." Slade said.

He stood up and finished off the tea before walking to the counter and putting the mug in the sink, touching Diana on the shoulder as he left.

"I'll see you in the training room in ten minutes," he continued over his own shoulder, walking into the hallway to find Wintergreen adjusting the thermostat, his eyebrows raised as he shot a glance at Slade.

"Don't look at me like that. I know what I'm doing," the mercenary stated quietly, turning his broad shoulders so he could pass by the older man.

"Never said you didn't sir," Wintergreen replied briskly, walking back toward the kitchen.

Slade rolled his eye as he moved down the hallway to the training room in order to put on some light protective gear under his clothes. Diana was getting better, and there was no reason not to suit up in order to be prepared. One day she might actually land a blow to his ribs or groin and he would prefer to remain at least relatively uninjured. Slade stretched in front of the mirrored back wall, rolling his shoulders and reaching down to grasp his ankles. He performed a few other stretches and saw Diana walk in out of the corner of his eye, cracking her knuckles and looking warily about the room. She walked to stand beside him and eased herself down into the splits, eyeing her reflection in the mirror. He knew what she was looking for-muscle tone in her triceps. A weak spot for most women, though most women couldn't do push-ups or pull-ups the way his employee could.

He surreptitiously eyed her reflection in the mirror while she continued her stretches. Diana stood up and pointed her toe, raising her arms and flourishing her fingers in what was undoubtedly a pose left over from her ballet days. When she saw him watching her she lowered her arms and continued with a more utilitarian form of stretching.

"Are you ready?" Slade asked, moving to the sidelines to grab a pair of his retractable bo staves, "First things first."

He tossed her a staff and she smiled her small little smile at his remark. In the past Diana would have simply nodded, but in some ways she seemed freer around him now that he'd saved her life. In other ways, though, she was still closed off and reserved. Not that he didn't enjoy that about her, as Terra had shown him what a headache someone so brash and free with her emotions could be.

"Terra is coming in sometime today, when she can slip away without being noticed," Slade said, backing away from her and twirling his staff.

"Oh?" Diana replied neutrally, shifting into a defensive stance, "What's the occasion?"

It was a game he played with her. To test her, to distract her. She knew what was happening and she tried to maintain focus. He'd talk to her, prattle on, sometimes incessantly. In the real world there were innumerable distractions and she had to be prepared for them. When she was stealing something a guard wasn't going to direct her to the nearest silent practice room so that they could spar alone. She might have to deal with multiple opponents and alien environments and who knew what else.

"She has information from the Titans' database for you," Slade grunted, shoving her off of him when she grabbed at his arm.

"I'll analyze it as soon as she's here," Diana replied, her slim hand reaching up to his shoulder as she used him for leverage to execute a flip.

Slade reached back without looking and caught her bo staff, wrenching her down and slamming her on the ground. Diana hit the mat with a thud and he heard her force the air out of her lungs as she made impact so her wind wouldn't get ejected of its own accord. Good.

"Keep the staff up and away from me."

Diana rolled to a standing position and her grip on the bo staff slackened. But when Slade lunged for it she was ready. Vaulting away from him, she slammed the staff across his back and he stumbled.

"Should I debrief her?"

"You should," he replied, pleased that she would think to ask.

Slade rolled forward to avoid the bo and for a few moments they sparred in silence. Diana seemed to stay in the present, focusing on her movements. She was a quick study. It was one of the only reasons he'd brought her on in the first place. He wasn't the type of person to play "sensei" and sometimes teaching Terra was a challenge for his temper. He had taken Robin on to torture the boy (because there was no way in hell he'd ever get Robin to join him willingly) but had he been inclined, Robin would have made a decent apprentice—he was proficient in the martial arts to begin with.

"Get the information she's giving you and prepare to report on it tomorrow morning. Of course, we'll discuss all of this later as well."

He punctuated the remark by swinging at her ribs on the side where she had been injured. Diana barely brought her own bo up in time and the force of the hit sent her backward, where she fell hard on the ground. She didn't get up. Retracting his staff, Slade warily circled her and moved closer, dropping down to both knees beside her. His pulse quickened. What if he'd actually—

Diana shot up and knocked him under the chin with her bo staff and jumped on top of him, fingers scrambling for his throat as they landed back on the ground. He fell backward and assessed the placement of her fingers. She had the bo pressed to one side of his neck and her free hand squeezing down on his carotid. They locked gazes and she froze. With his peripheral vision Slade could see a bead of sweat that slid down from her neck into the front of her black tank top.

"Good," Slade said approvingly, "That's good. How are your ribs?"

"I felt the blow but they don't ache," she replied, her ankles still hooked with his as she sat on top of him, ever-watchful for another attack.

Slade bucked and she involuntarily lurched forward. Hooking her arm, he rolled her off of him so that he was on top. She squirmed in his grip as he knocked her bo away and leaned forward, digging one knee into the pressure point inside of her thigh. Locking a hand around her throat, Slade tightened his grip and leaned more of his weight on top of her. Diana remained silent, her fingers scrabbling at his as she looked for a way to get free.

"Are you going to tap out?" he asked with interest, watching her expression as he put the full force of his weight on top of her.

She shook her head and her face turned red as he kept squeezing at her neck. There wasn't really a way to get out, at least a way that he had taught her, that didn't involve flipping him…but he'd already trapped her feet. However, she kept trying, her own bare feet pushing against his legs as she writhed around underneath him. He wasn't going to show her any mercy until she tapped out and Slade took the opportunity afforded to him to tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear and survey her face.

"I'm just going to keep choking you, my dear," Slade continued wickedly, "Is that what you want?"

They locked eyes again and Diana swallowed, averting her gaze. Their faces were so close that their noses were almost touching and he could read her every expression. It was with much reluctance that Diana drew her slender hands up and placed them over his, and it was with more reluctance that she slapped his fingers twice, signaling that she was throwing in the towel. Diana whimpered when Slade moved off of the pressure point against her thigh. He quickly removed his fingers from her neck and the two of them looked at each other for a moment, Slade studying the red marks he had made against her pale skin. They would fade in time and probably wouldn't bruise. If the pair of them didn't have an impressionable adolescent to deal with in a few hours, he would have pressed harder. A brief wisp of a fantasy crept into his head; he quickly blinked it away and stood up, holding out a hand to Diana. She regarded it suspiciously and remained on the floor.

"Get up," he ordered, and she grudgingly placed her hand in his before getting to her feet.

"Sir, Terra is set to arrive in approximately ten minutes," Wintergreen interjected over the intercom.

"Can you shower that quickly?" Slade asked Diana, jerking his head toward the door when she nodded, "Then go. I'll send her to your room when she arrives."