A/N: Holiday hiatus- People Person will continue on January 8th, 2014. I'll be taking a short reprieve to spend time with my family and frantically throw shit in boxes and call it gifts. Not literal shit. At least not for the people I like.

"There's your sword," Robin said as he pointed to the ground. Slade leaned over the side of the building, searching briefly and letting out a laugh.

"Look at the little bastard," he chuckled at the sight of the tall dead man wandering below, bumping into other dead and occasionally jabbing them with the sword that was lodged firmly in his collarbone. "I don't suppose we could train him to take all of them out."

"I remember when we were trying to brainstorm legitimate plans," Robin half joked, looking discouraged.

"I think the clock officially ran out on those legitimate ideas when you suggested we built a parasail out of the tent," Slade reminded him helpfully. "And don't sound so forlorn, it's only been two days."

"Three," Robin said adamantly. "Three days, two nights."

"Two days, two nights," Slade responded in a civil, but firm tone. "I found you in the evening, not during the day."

"It was before dark. That's daytime," Robin folded his arms, glaring.

"The sun was setting."

"Right, we could see the sun. Day time. I don't know why you're struggling with this," Robin raised a brow.

"I think we're going to need a better way to pass the time," Slade said bluntly. "Because I'm having visions of dangling you over the side of the building."

"Ouch. That's mean. And here I was just having visions of eating all your rations."

"I actually think that's crueler," Slade smirked, finally earning a smile from the younger man.

The three, or two, days since their accidental imprisonment had gone relatively well… at least in the sense that they hadn't killed each other. The uneasy alliance held firm through their arguments and snide remarks, and surprisingly even through the moments when a vague façade of civility hung in the air, which was usually only at mealtime.

Robin glanced at their rations. It took some time to finally acknowledge that they were, in fact, sharing everything. He still didn't like the idea. In reality, though, Slade had much more to offer for their particular situation. The hero had mulled over the thousand 'what-ifs' in his head. What if he hadn't heard Slade's guns? What if he'd stopped by one of his caches first? What if he hadn't used his last grappling to save the man? What if Slade wasn't immune? What if Batman had come instead? What if no one came at all? What if he was really imagining all this? What if he was really all alone?

"Cold?" Slade asked, derailing the hero's train of thought and causing the hero to look up from the rations, startled.

"No. M'fine." Robin muttered.

"You're shaking," the villain stated simply, as if prompting a response.

"Yes, I'm cold then," he answered dismissively. "Sun is low… almost time for our check in."

"It is," Slade answered, glancing over to the odd transmitter and back at the teen, watching his expression harden as he noticed the man studying him.

"What?" he finally snapped, and Slade's eye narrowed predatorily for a moment.

"Just trying to decide what you were thinking about," the villain answered calmly. "Your expression was very… lonely."

"Whatever," Robin rolled his eyes and grabbed hold of his bo-staff and extending it. "Prep the communicator. I don't want to miss Bruce's signal."

Slade gave a knowing smirk that enraged the teen, not because the man seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, but because that smirk, for all its callousness, was edged deep with pity.

A/N: Slade, you caring bastard. Stop it and do sex.
When will they get to sex? I honestly don't know. I'm letting the boys do what they want in this story, and they're certainly taking their sweet ass time. I guess we'll have to shake things up in the new year~

Happy holidays to all my readers!