Eyes still cast towards the floor, Shayera turned. "I was there earlier, but then I left." Then she got the hell out of that room.

"Wait!" She heard John call.

She didn't look back. When she reached the elevator, she finally looked back. John was still behind her. She pressed the door close button and when the doors closed she leaned her back against the wall and heaved a great sigh.

That made it twice. Twice, she had seen John, and twice she had run away. She slammed a fist against the elevator door. Why was she such a coward? When had she become like this? She ran a shaky hand through her hair then looked down towards her hand. Was she really supposed to get these papers down to Lucius? She leafed through a couple pages. Yup. These reports were of models of vehicles that resembled the Bat Mobile. She hadn't really talked with Lucius, she had heard about him quite often while she was at Wayne Manor. He knew Bruce's secret.

When the elevator stopped, she walked towards Lucius' office. She didn't expect that he'd be here, but to her surprise, he was there. His back was turned towards her as he worked on something that sat on the table in front of him.

"Mr. Fox?"

He looked behind him and saw Shayera. "Ah, Ms. Scarlet. Bruce's new assistant right?"

She came closer to him and handed over the papers. "Yes, he sent me down here to give you these and deliver a message."

He took hold of the papers and held them far from his eyes as his glasses went down his nose. He leafed through the papers. "Oh? And what was the message?"

Shayera chuckled. "He says that the old man wants you to stop by the mansion. Oh! And that he's sorry for the delay."

Lucius set the papers down. "I guess I'll have to stop by then." He took his glasses off and leaned back as he looked at Shayera.

Uncomfortable by the attention she snapped. "What?"

He continued to look at her. "How do you do it?"

Shayera squinted her eyes in confusion. "Do what?"

"Come here every day and act like you never were one of the greatest heroes on earth."

Shayera looked at the older man in shock.

He smiled at her. "After seeing what I've seen and helping who I've helped, it becomes a skill you acquire. Pointing out the heroes in our society."

Shayera looked ashamed. "I'm no hero."

"You've saved lives. Without you, well, we probably wouldn't be here."

"That's almost exactly what Alfred said to me."

A laugh. "He's a smart man. And so am I." He winked. "Now if I were you, I'd go on home. There's nothing and no one here tonight."

Shayera sighed. "You're right. I guess I will go home."

She turned and started to walk away. "Don't worry about your secret! It's safe with me."

"What the hell was that?" John demanded as the trio of heroes walked into Bruce's home.

"That's something that I'd like to know as well."

Bruce faced his company. "That was nothing."

John walked over and got right in Bruce's face. "That, in your office and at that diner, was Shayera." His voice was low and deadly. "You've known. After all this time, you've known. You bastard!"

He raised his fist as if to strike Bruce, but was stopped when Diana grabbed it. "There must've been a good reason." She wasn't condoning it; she wasn't for the idea of Bruce helping a traitor. She looked at Bruce. "Was there?"

"Yes. There was." He walked away from the confused people. "Don't expect me to explain it. That's up to Shayera."

John angrily shook off Diana. "Why you? Why didn't she come to me?" Rage sparked in his eyes as a thought occurred to him. He voice matched his burning gaze. Deadly and barely controlled. "Are you sleeping with her?"

"Of course not!" Diana cried out, distressed.

John ignored her. "Well?" He demanded of Bruce. "Well?"

Bruce met his gaze. Where John's was burning with hate, Bruce's was cool and calculating. "I'm not nor have I ever slept with her. She needed help and I gave it to her. Now, I'd appreciate it if you left my house."

John stared at him for a few moments. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. Sad and defeated. "Why wouldn't she come to me?"

Diana carefully answered. Her voice was soft, but to Bruce, he could still hear her muted hate. "She had already hurt you too much."

John sat down on a couch and brought his hands to his face. "I would've helped. I love her." He looked at Bruce.

"Tell me where she is. Please."

Bruce sighed and went to stand by the window. Diana followed him and spoke to him. "Tell him. It can stay between the three of us. No one else has to know."

"Why are you for this? I thought you hated her."

"I do." She looked back towards John. "But John is our friend. A member of our family."

She touched his arm. "Tell him Bruce. He needs this."

Bruce looked at the hand that grasped his arm. That same hand had touched him other times as well. A simple brush against his own. A warm hand against his cheek as she made sure he was alright. And now, it was a soothing touch that calmed the raging storm of indecision in his head. Next, he looked into her blue eyes. His own were blue, but his were ice where hers were as clear as the ocean in the Bahamas.

He brought his hand up to hers and lightly kissed her hand. "Alright. I'll tell him."

"He did what?"

"That bastard, Mr. I-know-the-Justice-League, brought John to his office!"

As soon as Shayera had gotten home, she tore off her little device, setting free her wings and got out her cell phone to dial Katie. She had raved and ranted about Bruce but had to change some details. Katie knew that John was the Green Lantern; everyone did for he had no secret identity. She didn't know about Bruce and Shayera would never tell. Shayera left out Diana and Lucius.

"I can't believe him."

"Are you going to go to him? No! Better yet, are you going to wait for him to come to you? Oh! What if Mr. Wayne tells him where to find you? That would be sooooo romantic!" Katie gushed on and on.

"Katie!" Shayera shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "This cannot happen. He needs to stay away. If I wanted to see him, I would've sought him out."

"Shayera! Think about it. He saw you at the Diner, that was strike one. Next, at the office, strike two. I'm willing to bet my whole salary the strike three is about to happen when he knocks on your door."

"Katie." Shayera repeated as her stress level continued to rise. "This is not going to happen."

"How do you know?"

Shayera went into her kitchen and grabbed a beer bottle out of the fridge. As she popped the cap off, Katie continued talking.

"Shayera, is that a beer bottle?"

Gulping down almost half of the bottle, "Maybe."

Over the phone, Shayera heard Katie's sigh. "You and I both know that your drinking gets worse when you're alone and stressed. Do you need me to come over?"

Shayera threw away her finished bottle and grabbed a new one. "No. I'm fine. I finished one bottle; I'm going to go to bed now."

"We both know you're lying, but whatever. I'll come check on you in the morning. You know, just to see if you're still alive and not lost in some bar."

She laughed without humor. "Tomorrow I'll be fine and completely rested. Don't worry about me."

"You know I'm going to."

The two said their goodbyes and hung up. Shayera dove into the fridge again and grabbed two more beers. She sat heavily into one side of her couch. She sat there for a few moments, just staring into space. As if she were on auto-pilot, Shayera continued to drink, and drink, and drink. Soon, she was lying on her couch, stretched as far as she could, with empty beer bottles surrounding her on the couch, on the table, and on the floor. She felt sleep begin to overcome her. Her eyes began to droop and she grabbed the blanket that was hung on the back of the couch. Wrapping herself tightly in the blanket, Shayera prepared herself for sleep. Just when she thought that her drinking had paid off, a knock interrupted her alcohol induced peace.

"God damn it." Shayera groaned as she got up. She swayed dangerously and considered letting the knocker believe she was out. But, a nagging vibe in her head told her that it could be Katie.

Somehow, she made it to the door. "Katie, I told you I would be fine!" She slurred as she tore the door open.

What she saw made her slam it closed.

"Oh my God." Shayera mumbled. "Strike three."

The visitor pounded on the door. "Shayera! Let me in! We need to talk! Please!"

Shayera shrank down to the floor. "Oh God." She repeated multiple times. She brought shaking hands up to her face. "This can't be happening."

"Shayera!" John yelled. "You know I can force my way in, but I don't want to. I just want to talk."

She shook her head. "No no no no no no no. Just go away. Please leave."

Still in shock, and some denial, Shayera began to crawl away from the door. Being drunk, her vision was blurry and she bonked her head against her coffee table. She was too confused and drunk to care. Her hands groped the table top in search of her phone, who would she call? Katie? No. She needed someone who could get John away. She turned the screen on and began to locate Bruce's number.

Through her drunken haze, an idea began to form. How had John found her? She groaned and put a hand to her forehead. She couldn't think straight. Had Bruce…? Bruce told him where she was! That egotistical ass! Nonetheless, Shayera pressed his number in.

The phone rang and rang, then went to his voicemail. "Bruce Wayne, when I see you I am going to murder you." She pressed End and tried to stand. Just then, her door opened.

"Shayera." John walked over the threshold and slowly went to her. Once he reached her, he knelt down beside her. "I can't believe it's you." He moved forward as if to hug her, but stopped. He sniffed the air around her. "Are you- are you drunk?"

Her arms attempted to push him away as she continued to try to get up. "Leave me alone. Why are you here?"

Ignoring her feeble attempts, he helped her sit on her couch. "I got it out of Bruce."

Tears began to fall from her eyes but she made no move to wipe them away. "You need to go and forget about me."

He pulled her close to him. Ignoring the scent of alcohol that lingered on her, he pulled her over his lap and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I can't. I've tried, but I can't Shayera. I just can't." He pulled away and tilted her chin up towards him. "I-I need you." Thoughts ran through his head. What he had wanted to say when they met once again, but now wasn't the time. Instead, he would just hold her. Unfortunately, questions bubbled out that he couldn't stop.

"Why didn't you come to me? Why Gotham?" He shut his eyes. "Why Bruce?"

Shayera nestled into his chest and grasped his shirt in her fist. "I was hurt." She whispered so quietly he almost didn't hear her. "I was hurt and almost dying. He saved me." She laughed bitterly. "God knows I didn't ask him too." She closed her eyes. "God also knows I wouldn't be telling you this if I weren't so drunk."

"I won't ask anymore." Once more, he tightened his embrace and let the familiarity wash over him. 8 months he had missed her. 8 months, he had dreamed of her. He burrowed his head in the crook of her neck and just held her. Shayera let herself be held. Soon, she found herself falling asleep. She didn't want to for fear of John being a cruel dream.

Seeing Shayera on the verge of falling asleep, more like passing out, John lifted her up and searched for her bedroom. Finding it, John lay Shayera down and stood beside the bed. She was snoring lightly and John couldn't help but smile. He brushed a strand of her hair from her face, his smile faltered a little. Would she remember this when she woke up? Would she kick him out and demand that he never seek her out again? He could only hope that she wouldn't.

He looked around in her room. It was dark but he could still make out a few things. On the door knob of her slightly ajar closet, there was a pair of boxing gloves. He smiled a little at that. On the floor near the closet, there was a tiny array of clothes. Unlike his neat-freak self, Shayera could live with a mess on the floor. On the dresser there was a small circular looking thing. He put it aside and picked up a framed picture. It was of Shayera and Wally. The two were smiling and had one arm over the other. John too smiled. He remembered that day. The three of them had been alone in the tower when Wally had suggested they take pictures.

Behind it was another photo. It was folded and had no frame. Carefully, he put down the frame and grabbed the hidden photo. He unfolded it and looked at it. It was of him and Shayera. The two were looking at each other. John had an incredulous look on his face and Shayera had looked triumphant and she was smiling and laughing. She had caught John off guard and was enjoying her victory. John had grabbed his camera and planned on taking a picture of them. But then, Shayera told him something quite… distracting. As their heads were tilted towards the other's, Shayera took that moment to turn her head and whisper something in his ear.

She hadn't put on any panties that night.

She said it right as he pressed the button that would implant this moment in the camera's history.

After all this time, she kept this picture. He had a copy of it too. Right on his bedside table.

John looked back at Shayera again. He saw that she had curled up on her side with one of her wings covering her body. She was cold, and from experience, he knew. So, he pulled up some of the blankets and covered her. Then, ever so slightly, he bent over her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Good night Shayera."

Then he walked back into the living room and sat on the couch. He wasn't sure what to do now. So he leaned back on the couch and thought about it. It was getting late do he figured he should go home. But, his eyes began to droop and he realized how nice the couch was. When his eyes finally shut, his last thought was what would Shayera think when she saw him on her couch.