... to this rather sweet chapter.

/-^l^-\ Same Week. Same Day. Friday Evening. /-^1^-\

Alison wandered to the door and pulled it back. Unusual time for a knock. Especially on her door. 9pm.

"Jonathan!" she exclaimed.

"No. I'm not Jonathan," he scoffed. He stood and scuffed the sole of his shoe on the porch, slightly timid. "Well... I just came to see if you were ... err... you know? Okay? Because you weren't at work and I figured... the worst. Which is stupid! Because I went hospital with you and the doctors said you were okay so I left before you woke to leave you be. But... yeah... Are you?"

"I think you saved my life, Jonathan," she said awkwardly, "do you want to come in?"

"Err..." He was going to say no, but then he realised that was one very big window of opportunity, and missing it would be plain stupid. "If you're okay with me coming in for a minute? Sure."

Alison stood back and opened the door, letting him in. Easy... too easy. She timidly shut it after him and held her hand to the living room. He stepped in. Neither of them sat. Alison perched awkwardly against the arm of the settee.

"What are you actually allergic too?" he asked, trying to start a conversation of some kind instead of them just shrugging a lot and rubbing their arms timidly avoiding eye contact with each other.

"Ginger."

He nodded, watching her struggle with something. She took a deep breath in and then sighed, giving up on trying to speak for a second and then took another deep breath in, nodding her head with some self reassurance.

"Thank you," she finally uttered, pursing her lips after she spoke. Jonathan swept his eyes over her and proceeded to smirk. It hurt her to have to say that. Her posture was tense, she was fiddling about with her hands and she hadn't even looked at him.

"Oh, that wasn't easy, was it?" he asked, trying not to grin, "still dislike me even though I did save your life."

"You're at the top. You're my favourite disliked person."

"Don't let it go any further than that."

"Funny. You're still insisting that but you know I'm kinda your only friend or thereabouts," she pointed out. She then cast her eyes glumly down which utterly confused him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She stood and embraced him tightly. "Thank you. I was so fortunate you were there."

He found himself holding her in his arms as she gratuitously clutched to him.

She'd brought his lonliness up a few times. He wished she wouldn't. It was like she knew and she was guilt tripping him. Thus far, it hadn't been very effective at all, and any thoughts he'd had were quickly washed away.

But that said, he had indeed saved her life yesterday and in that moment had realised he was concerned for her. Hell, even he'd panicked a little bit and he didn't know he could! His nights stalking Gotham as a face of sheer terror had turned him off and brought him some vague immunity to panic.

Did he have to go through with his plans? Yes, you do. Remember, she taunted you straight away and picked on you first. Not good enough. Why? Because she knew how far out you were and you know what? She's going to get glory when she tears you down first if you don't do something to put her in her place.

His eye twitched with his thoughts. He was glad Alison hadn't seen that, it would have come across wrong. They separated, the awkwardness blooming back between them as the serenity died.

"Do you want tea or coffee or something?" she asked curiously, shattering silence.

"No, I'm fine thanks," said Jonathan, "I just wanted to come by..."

"Sure?" she asked.

"I am sure. What are all those letters?" he asked, glancing onto the coffee table.

"Keep your nose out or I will shave it off in the most painful manner imaginable and you know not assume I'm kidding."

"No, I know. Are they all from your mother though?"

"Pretty much," nodded Alison. She somehow struck the conversation off there and he didn't feel like he wanted to ask anymore. The more he thought about, he was genuinely afraid to ask anymore.

Alison jumped as her hand hovered over the phone at the exact same time as it went off. She held one finger up to Jonathan's lips, surprising him. He cupped his hand over hers and pulled it down a little resting on his chest, listening closely to the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's Bruce."

"No kidding."

"Listen, I wondered about Sunday?"

"I'm going to have to let you down, I'm sorry."

"It's absolutely fine."

"Yeah. I'm facing a few personal problems currently, which have escalated and are on the verge of exploding."

"Oh no! Alright then. Sorry to call you so late I was just thinking about it now."

"I am really sorry. Listen, I have a guest so I'm going to go, okay?"

"Oh! Sorry."

"You didn't know."

"I guess. Bye Alison!"

"Goodbye Bruce!" she smiled, placing the phone down. Jonathan raised a brow.

"Standing up, again?" he quipped.

"Are you sure you don't want that tea? It's going to give you more time to mock me."

"I don't want to mock you! Much. But err... you genuinely know Bruce Wayne?"

"Did that sound like I was talking to Bruce Wayne?" she asked.

"Well, yes. Do you realise how easy you got in there and how many women have daggers in their eyes every time they'll see you?" He was really testing the waters.

"Well, I really hope my friendships don't produce enemies..." she mused, "I'm not a fan of enemies," she whispered. Jonathan was perplexed. Didn't she consider him to be an enemy? He didn't show this on his face. She snatched her hand back and gave him a narrow glare. "Except you. You're my favourite enemy, as stated earlier." There we go Alison.

"Thank you. It's an honour," he remarked coldly. Superficial annoyance. "Alison, could I ... use your bathroom?" he asked shyly. Superficial timidity.

"Sure, it's upstairs, first door. Literally, bang opposite."

"Thanks," he smiled. He crept upstairs. Superficial piss.

Actually, no. He genuinely needed the toilet. Not desperately. He needed to know his way around her house though. He glanced back, making sure that she wasn't glancing up and turned down the landing.

Her room had the door wide open. But when he stepped in he almost seized he was that shocked by it. Hot pink! Eww! Really, Alison! He cringed and then shivered a little with horror. It could have been a nice room if it weren't for the colour. He took a quick scan around and stepped back out, tip-toeing into the bathroom.

He did what he could and made a point, more to himself than Alison - since she was clueless about his invasion of privacy - of pulling the chain extra hard as if this made the flush louder for everyone, including the neighbours and a dog ten doors down hear that he had 'been' to the toilet.

He trudged back downstairs. The coffee table was now completely clear, and he couldn't even see any evidence as to where the letters had gone. He glanced gazed at Alison.

"Thank you. Err... I'll be off. I've actually got to be at work tomorrow," he said.

"Alright," she smiled. He pulled back the door and stepped outside. "Goodbye!"

"Bye Jonathan," she said coolly, leaning against the frame. He turned back to her, needing to say one last thing out of impulse more than anything. No!

"I was scared. I'm glad you're here."

"Why did you tell me you needed me?" she asked curiously. He'd known she heard that. She wasn't unconscious when he had said it. He wanted to lie, his mouth wouldn't let him.

"You're all I have," he shrugged, glancing down shamefully. She tilted her head and smiled.

"Have you heard yourself, Jonathan?"

"Yeah. I don't know who the hell I am anymore," he nodded with a little smile. Everytime I walk away from you, my magnanimity dies, and I can't handle those two extremes.

"Jon," she called as he walked away. He turned around and clutched her shoulders.

"Yes, Alison?" he sighed, shaking her lightly. She laughed and grimaced a little, not sure what she had even wanted to say. He tilted her chin up as she glanced down looking sorrowful. He was absolutely taken over by her. "What's up?" he asked softly.

"I don't know. I'm not sure. I just wanted to call you back. Sorry."

"It's okay," he soothed, "smile," he instructed, brushing his thumb over her lips gently, as if this would make her smile. It actually worked; she timidly did so. The benevolence in him tip-toed out further as he warmly took to her. "You are pretty," he mused, running his fingers down her cheek softly. He laughed when she blushed, which made her blush more and him laugh more.

"Stop-it," she mumbled.

"You force me to smile against my will!"

"I'm tetchy about my appearance. I feel like I'm being attacked when people say things like that and I'm only blushing... because..."

"Because?"

"I don't know. Because I want it to be true, I mean... I want to feel that way," she frowned. His heart went out to her; he knew she genuinely felt that way. Did she have no idea? He leant down and this time he kissed her cheek. Where did that whim come from?

"I genuinely mean it," he promised, embracing her for a long time until he could force himself away, "get some rest." You're going to need it. "Goodnight."

"Night," she smiled, losing grip on him.

He DOES have feelings! Who knew? XD