CHAPTER TWENTY-Three

I scrubbed a sudsy brush over the broad expanse of Croc's back, forcing the bristles between the crannies of his scales. Croc sat nude, except for a white towel covering his lap, on a wooden stool in the middle of my courtyard, his feet in a massive metal basin I'd dragged out and filled with water and unscented body wash. I was positioned on a concrete ledge behind him, his waist between my knees while I helped him clean his back and he scrubbed his front. I'd changed into a pair of jean shorts and a bikini top, taking full advantage of the early summer sun. It had been an uphill struggle to get him here taking a bath but when I bargained with two deep-dish pizzas he'd caved.

"Make sure you get the dried blood out from under your claws," I reminded. He ignored me to continue scrubbing his pits. It had taken about a half hour of heavy handed washing to get the scent of rot and sewage out of his scales but it had been worth it. Leaning forward, I surreptitiously sniffed. He only smelled of his musk now, which while I found familiar and pleasant others seemed to find off putting and foul. To each his own, I suppose.

Leaning back on my hands, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feel of the sun. It's been a while since Gotham had some nice weather, even longer since I was willing to wear something sleeveless. I grimaced, reminded of the spider webbing of scars I'd now exposed to the world.

"Why do you live in a sewer anyway?" I asked. The sounds of scrubbing stopped.

"Only place big enough."

"I don't know, Bane's pretty big and he doesn't live in a sewer."

"I like the sewer," he growled, putting the conversation to an end. I cracked open one eye and swung my feet, planting them on his sudsy back. "Didn't mean to make you angry big guy."

"Why do you even talk to me?" his voice was thick and gravelly. Both eyes snapped open as I considered the back of his head.

"I don't really have an answer. For some reason I like being around you," I said thoughtfully, smacking my wet feet on his scaly back. "I don't know… at Blackgate I didn't know if you were about to tease me or eat me. I guess I started thinking we were friends. I don't got a lotta friends," more like none. Closing my eyes I leaned back against the brick wall behind me, knotting my fingers over my stomach and taking a deep breath of the sun flavored air. That confession wasn't half as humiliating as I'd thought it'd be. I heard the metal basin scrape against the concrete before Croc upended it over his head, the cold water shocking my toes so that I yanked my feet back to the ledge. The air cooled from a cloud passing over the sun.

"So what kind of pizza do you want – " I choked on my words when I opened my eyes and saw Croc over me. He'd moved silently, standing with his arms braced on the stone ledge around me, blocking out the sun and any exit. I folded my knees closer in, chest tightening as I looked up into his almost glowing yellow eyes.

"Friends?" he hissed, his teeth cutting into the word. I blinked up at him, suddenly too exposed in my summer wear as his heat touched my skin.

"Uh, yeah. Friends," I confirmed, nodding once while not looking from his eyes. I flinched when something connected with my shoulder. Glancing down I saw he was tracing my scars, his claws moving from my clavicle to my sternum. I blushed, immediately grabbing his hand and trying to push him off only to have his body press into my legs and force my knees apart. Now burning red I tried to move further back but was caught by the wall. When his hand pressed flat against my chest, his thumbnail scratching under my breast, I looked up sharply to call him off but stopped dead. The words died in my throat when I saw the look in his eyes.

"Gonna run away this time?" he murmured in a thick voice. I tried not to tremble, forcing a tighter grip on his wrist to keep myself under control.

"No, I'll stay here… with you, I mean. If you want?" I answered weakly. He regarded me with half lidded eyes, opening his mouth and lowering his head to the junction of my throat. He took odd breaths against my skin, tasting my scent. I shivered, hoping he wouldn't notice how sweaty I get when nervous.

"H-hey, uh –"

"Shut up," he griped, nuzzling into my throat. I spluttered as his teeth and lips tickled me, giggling and smacking at his shoulders. I knew I was ruining whatever sensitive moment we'd been trying to share, but I was stupid ticklish. Ducking around his jaw I planted a kiss on his throat, then bit down over the spot. I bit as hard as I could without breaking my teeth then leaned back with an embarrassed smile. Croc shook his head.

"What are you gonna do next time I get taken in?" he asked with lazy curiosity, his eyes half lidded. My face cooled despite his closeness as my mind refocused on his question. Mindlessly I pulled on the blade tipped thumb pressed into the flesh between my breasts.

"I could break you out. But that depends."

"On what?"

"You gonna eat me?" I was trying to rile him up, I'm suicidal like that. Croc reacted accordingly, rolling his eyes and leaning away.

"Depends on what you mean by that Dollface," he answered, focusing to something off to the left. I frowned.

"What's that suppo – oh. Oh! Shut up," I shouted, blushing furiously. He coughed his stupid laugh while I kicked my way out from under him, burning red from my ears to my toes. Getting to my feet I gathered up the buckets, brush, basin, and soap bottles as Croc doubled over laughing. Marching back into my sort-of home I dumped the bathing equipment off and changed into a lightweight hoodie and pair of tights. I'd shown off enough skin today to last the whole year.

Eventually Croc recovered and came lumbering into the room, wiping tears from his eyes and shoving a phone at me. Of course, the pizzas. And he called me fat.

Two deep-dish meat lovers later, Croc had taken up residence on my couch and was finishing off all the alcohol he'd been able to find in the kitchen. I was munching down a big bag of cherries with a bottle of Yoohoo, my feet trapped on his lap while he thoughtlessly kneaded my calf. Two movies about a space outlaw in spectrum goggles later, I found my thoughts turning to our…relationship.

"Croc."

"What."

"What would you do if I got a boyfriend?"

"Eat him."

"Ah."

I knocked a cherry pit against my teeth as I considered our situation. We were friends; he'd even seemed to agree. I squinted at the TV, not paying attention to the third film where the space convict outsmarted a bunch of bounty hunters on a desert planet. I guess he considered me his property? For some reason that sat fine with me, made more sense than calling someone like Croc a childish name like 'boyfriend'.

I was beginning to nod off when Croc pushed my legs away and stood, leaving me in awe of his towering height once again. He stretched slowly, pushing his hands against his hips and leaning back until a few loud pops were forced out. He sighed heavily, settling back into his hulking posture.

"You going somewhere?" I asked, not bothering to get up. He nodded, reaching down to ruffle my hair, "yeah, got work."

"Oh. Well I guess I'll see you around?" I finished uncertainly. Croc grinned, giving my hair one hard yank as he made his way to the door.

"Sure thing, Dollface."