A convenient dose of tranquilizer kept Nightwing out cold until dawn, when I reluctantly acknowledged that Oracle wasn't coming back. I borrowed clothes and a gym bag from Dinah's closet, grabbed a shower, and, leaving Bondage Fun Nightwing in the middle of the floor, headed out to go to work on my second night of no sleep.

She was coming in as I was leaving, and I filled her in quickly. She told me she'd handle it. I wondered how, but I couldn't miss work to find out. As it turns out, I probably should have asked.

She sent me a text from Dick's phone mid-morning, as my students tried their hardest to follow the movie's plot, and I had to keep hitting pause to explain WHY the main character was taking a drill to his brain, and why there was a Jewish man chasing him when all I really wanted was to put my head down and die for a solid 8 or 10 hours.

The text was short. "Pick me up after work where you dropped me off this morning. Dress up." Irritated, I slammed my phone shut and threw it into my purse. Fuck them, I wasn't ABOUT to cater to her bossy whims and be his personal chauffeur. By the time the last bell rang, I'd started simply telling my students to read the plot summary on IMDB when they got home as homework, and Ms. B. was not answering any questions until they did. Your tax dollars at work, American Citizens.

Still fuming, I drove to a deserted parking lot, changed into my costume, and jammed the sweaty, still-sticky mask on my face. I checked it in the mirror as I drove away. Crooked. Goddamnit. I was not fixing it. I was just going to break the neck of anyone who said anything at a 5 degree angle so it looked straight to them for the rest of their lives. Problem solved.

My mood did not improve when I came in and saw Dick, freshly changed, showered and shaved, sitting on the couch in a polo and jeans, Oracle sitting beside him with her hand covering his possessively. I could have punched them both, but I think I would have enjoyed punching her more. I settled for a direct verbal assault. "How's the head, Humpty Dumpty?"

He winced like I had hit him. "Helena, I am so, so sorry. I... I don't know what came over me, I was just so angry... You totally owe me a beating." He paused, waiting to see if I would actually hit him. Did he know me, or what? He continued. "When she blew that stuff at me... I could see what I was doing. Feel it. I wanted to kill, and destroy, and crush... But it just made such perfect sense. Like there was nothing wrong with it..."

I ignored his apology for the moment, looking at Oracle. "How'd you cure it? Can we duplicate it?"

She shook her head. "He was fine when he woke up. He called into work. Apparently everyone else they arrested last night was fine in the morning too. Whatever this is, it's short-lived."

"Did you get a sample of the toxin?"

Another head shake. Maybe I should kick that rueful look off her pretty face. I bet the tread on my boots would make for some interesting bruises. "There was nothing left in his bloodstream when I took the sample. We need a sample from immediately after exposure."

I could handle that, assuming our mystery woman hadn't hit the highway between last night and today. I guessed we weren't that lucky. "How's Dinah?"

"Two broken ribs, collapsed lung, but she's going to be okay. She's down for the count for several weeks though. It's just the two of you for now." She looked at me directly. "Can you get me that sample? It's not safe for Dick to be out there right now."

I snorted. "Get it yourself, I'm not your service dog." Her face twisted. Low blow. Good. I wanted the bitch to feel the way I felt with her sitting there holding his hand like she owned him. Would she still touch him like that if she knew whose bed he shared when his own got too big for him?

"Helena... please. We can't take the chance. You're going to be out there anyway..."

"Why does everyone assume that I don't have a life? I have plans tonight." Okay, so they involved an entire cheesecake, 1400 crunches to make up for said cheesecake, and the Sophia Loren marathon on IFC, but she didn't have to know that.

He spoke up. "I remember how hard I hit you last night. I split open the skin on 6 of my knuckles. " Yeah, remind me. That will help your case. "I... I can't stand the thought of doing that again." He looked up at me, and I could see the fear in his eyes. "If- if I seriously hurt you, or someone who -couldn't- take me down... I couldn't live with myself. What if I kill someone?"

"Touching. You gonna cry about it too?"

He just looked at me, giving me the baby blue treatment. I sighed, and I saw the triumph blaze across his face. He had me, and he knew he had me. Seeing no reason to continue the conversation, I grabbed a handful of syringes and tourniquets out of the supply cabinet and jammed them into a pouch on my belt.