As far as evenings go, it was a success. Elle had been surprised that Dick hadn't interrogated her as soon as he had walked in the door, but he hadn't. He shot Tim and Damian a look and went to shower and change. Elle stood inside of the bedroom as he dressed. She winced when he opened the sock drawer and saw the box had been returned to it.

Dick paused, staring at the ring that had caused so much problems. He could feel Elle's trepidation like he could his own heart. He didn't know what the exact cause of it was. Was it that she felt that because he didn't get rid of the ring he wasn't dedicated to their relationship? His anger flared, but it was directed at himself; himself and that damned ring!

He grabbed the box and ripped it open. He had no doubt that the ring was back inside of it. He pulled the ring out and threw the velvet box across the room so hard it dented the drywall. Elle cringed and he felt worse, and his anger grew.

He crushed the ring inside of his hand. He could feel the diamond cutting into his palm, but he didn't care. He moved toward the bathroom.

Elle jumped out and threw her arms around him, crying. "I'm sorry! I so sorry! I thought it was a gift for Bruce for Christmas! I shouldn't have touched it."

His arms slid around her shoulders. "You have nothing to apologize for," he told her.

"But I made you so angry. I almost lost it," she admitted miserably. "And now you don't trust me anymore!"

"Of course, I trust you! Elle, you did nothing wrong. This was all on me." He leaned his forehead against hers; savoring the feel of her in his arms, the knowledge that she was safe, that she didn't hate him. "I should have gotten rid of this thing a long time ago. I had an unhealthy obsession with it up until recently," he admitted ruefully. "But I haven't thought about this ring since I first met you. I had completely forgotten about it, honestly, until I saw the gift box on the table earlier."

She didn't know if that made her feel better or worse.

"I was afraid that you thought I might still have feelings for her," he said.

"Do you?"

Even if he hadn't been able to feel the flash of fear within her, he could see it in her eyes.

"No," he promised her. "I mean, yes, I still care about her. I don't hate her, but I've since realized that what we had wasn't what I was looking for."

"And what are you looking for?" Hope flared up.

"I'm not looking for it anymore," he said, "because I've already found it."

Confusion made her nose crinkled adorably as Elle tilted her head. He couldn't resist leaning down to kiss the tip of it. He nearly laughed when she blushed.

"It's you, Elle. I found you," he murmured against her lips.

"But what if I . . ."

"Stop," he interrupted her. "Don't apologize for what you've given to me."

"And what have I given you besides headaches," she snarked.

"Unconditional love," Dick hugged her close. "I never dreamed that I would find that. Elle, do you not realize how rare that is? You don't judge me. You support me in everything I do. Most women couldn't handle a relationship with a cop, let alone a vigilante. I thought for the longest time that the only acceptance I would find would be in the hero community."

Elle leaned back and stared at him. "Wait. The hero community? Do you mean that Babs is . . ."

"She was." Dick was stepping into uncharted territory now. It was one thing to confirm the identities of family that Elle had already deduced herself; entirely another to tell her outright another hero's identity.

"She was? Meaning she's not anymore?" Elle frowned and then gasped. "D-did she . . . die?"

"What? No! I mean, she had to retire from active crime-fighting," Dick found himself explaining. "She was hurt. Oddly enough, she was hurt as a civilian and not as a crime-fighter. But she couldn't go out in the streets anymore after that."

"Oh," Elle's face contorted in sympathy. "That's kind of sad."

"It's something we prepare ourselves for," Dick told her. "She was angry and depressed for a time, but not much could keep Babs down for long. She found other ways to fight the good fight."

Elle watched him. His expressions; his eyes . . . She listened to his emotions. He admired this woman . . . Babs. Short for Barbara, Elle thought. The woman's name was Barbara and she had been a crime-fighter, a vigilante, like Dick.

"How long were you together?" She didn't know if Dick would answer her or not, but Elle needed to know if she had been the cause of their break up.

"On and off for years," he admitted.

On and off? Years? Elle's forehead crinkled in thought. That could mean so much.

"You don't really want to know about my past girlfriends, do you?"

Elle looked up into Dick's face. He was uncomfortable talking about this. She probably shouldn't press, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. Now that she had a name, seen tangible proof of this woman's existence, Elle had a need to know about her. What was it about her that had attracted Dick to her? What made him keep coming back?

"Did you date superheroes much?"

A blush rose up over his cheeks and he shrugged, letting Elle go to rub the back of his neck sheepishly.

"A bit."

Translation: Almost entirely. Elle suddenly felt . . . diminished somehow. Dick was apparently attracted to strong women, athletic women, women who were the ultimate in competency, women who could kick butt . . . Not women who were klutzy, women who were relatively sedentary, who found themselves being walked over by their overbearing fathers and stepped on by hate-filled, abusive brothers.

But she could swim! It wasn't a superpower . . . Not exactly. Actually, it was kind of lame. There was Aquaman, but he could talk to fish and was super strong and had a cool trident. Elle could hold her breath a really long time and dive from relatively large heights with minimal splash. Not really something that lent itself to the world of heroes well.

She could sing, but what good would that do her if someone was about to punch her in the face? She could project her emotions, so maybe she could give the bad guys panic attacks since that is what she would be feeling if she had to actually face down evil villains.

This idea that Dick was attracted to women who were heroes sparked her curiosity about her Atlantian heritage again. After the first week, she stopped thinking much about it, but now she wondered exactly what she was capable of doing; of being. Would Dick love her more if she could learn to hold her own in his world?

She thought about that man, Arthur Curry, who came to talk with her. She wondered if he would help her find out more about her Atlantian ancestors if she asked him. He had left some kind of communicator with Dick. It looked just like a regular, old shell to her, but what did she know of such things. Dick had showed it to her, and both he and Arthur promised her that she had the freedom to use it any time she wanted when more questions arose.

Suddenly she was filled with questions. Suddenly she wanted to meet one of her own kind. Well, one of part of her kind? She was mostly human, so really she was with her own kind, but she wanted to meet a real-life Siren and discover what all she might still be capable of if only she knew how. She hoped that Arthur would be able to help her. Being only half-Atlantian, he might just be on the fringe of things; the full-blooded Atlantians merely tolerating his presence sometimes.

"What are you thinking?"

Dick voice brought her out of her revelry.

"That I'd like to take a trip," she smiled at him finally.

It would take some doing, but she might be able to arrange something sometime after the holidays. She might never be a super hero, and honestly, she didn't really want to be. She wasn't sure she'd be able to handle the stress of it on a daily basis. But Dick admired strong women . . . He liked women who could hold their own in a fight. He had preferred women who were capable of tackling trouble and coming out on top.

Elle would never be a hero or vigilante like Babs, but maybe she could become capable enough one day that Dick wouldn't worry about her walking home at night, or freak out when he couldn't get her on the phone. She didn't really mind his overprotectiveness. It was kind of sweet. And his overreactions were sort of cute. They were both symptoms of his love, and really how could she complain about that?

Dick looked startled at her change in subject, but it had only been a couple of months. He couldn't be expected to be able to follow her train of thought yet. Her smile grew wider. He might be more comfortable if he never actually learned that trick.

She glanced down at his still-clenched hand.

"So, what are you going to do with that," she asked, moving back to the present.

He opened his hand and looked down at the ring. "It represents something that is never going to happen," he murmured. He then met her gaze. "And I am more than okay with that."

When he turned on his heel and strode purposely into the bathroom, Elle hurried to follow him. What was he going to do? When he tilted his hand over the toilet and watched the ring plop into the water, she gasped.

"Dick! What are you doing," she yelped in surprise.

He flushed it, and the both watched the diamond wink once in the light before disappearing into the sewer system.

"I can't believe you did that!" Elle gaped. "I mean, you didn't have to . . ."

Dick grasped Elle's shoulders. "I should have done this a long time ago. Elle, the only thing keeping that ring would accomplish is to hurt you, and I would do anything to keep you from being hurt."

There is was, she thought a little glumly. He was admitting that he thought she was weak. And while she appreciated and even liked his protective streak, Elle thought of how much more she would like it if he could admire her . . . like he did Babs and those other girlfriends she hope to never learn about.

"You are the sweetest man," she said, slipping her arms around his neck. Making out in front of the toilet wasn't in her top ten list of the best places to get it on with your man, but it would do in a pinch.

Several minutes later, there was a pounding on Dick's bedroom door.

"Hey! What are you two doing in there? When's dinner?"

Damian . . .

"Go away," Dick yelled.

Elle laughed. "Be out in a minute," she called out.

Dick raised his eyebrow at her. "You know, you really shouldn't encourage them like this."

"Why not?" Elle gave him a quick peck and started tugging his hand back into the bedroom.

"Because you'll spoil them," Dick complained. "And they will think that they can just show up any time they please and interrupt . . . our . . . um, plans."

"I have plans, but they happen later. After dinner and game night," she winked at him.

Dick followed her out into the living area. Damian and Tim were lounging about, working hard at looking nonchalant when they were fully aware of what was happening behind closed doors. Or what might have happened behind closed doors if one of them hadn't started banging on it!

His mind kept going back to that statement she had made seemingly straight out of the blue. A trip? What brought that on? Why did she want to travel now? Where did she want to go? Did she plan to go alone or did she want him to go with her? It was enough to keep him distracted throughout the majority of the evening; much to everyone's annoyance. Well, that depended on who he was partnered with during the games part of the evening.

They saw the boys off early enough that they could get home before Bruce began tracking them, and made their way back into his apartment. He helped Elle clean up the last of the dinner and put the games away. But it wasn't until they were curled up in his bed and things were quiet that he brought it up again.

"What trip," he asked softly; his lips against her hair.

"What?"

His hand did its own traveling across the bare expanse of her stomach. Elle hummed with pleasure. It was nice that she was just as physical as he was. She loved his touch and arched into every stroke and caress.

"What trip?" He kissed along her temple and her jaw. Elle turned into him and met his lips with her own.

"Trip?" She murmured, sliding her mouth along his chin and down his neck.

His breath caught. She found that sensitive spot on his neck that always made him a little crazy.

"You said you wanted to take a trip earlier," he gasped out as she rolled on top of him.

She gazed down at him with radiant eyes, and he felt it all the way down to his toes. She loved him. She adored him. She was happy with him in her life. She laughed down at him; her world content.

"Well, I was thinking about taking you for a ride," She grinned as she sat up and straddled his hips. She rolled her hips in a circle. "Around the block a few times."

Dick gasped and grabbed her hips. Growling, he flexed his own hips; lifting her up and make her squeal with delighted laughter. The conversation deteriorated from there, but Dick didn't mind. There was time enough to ask his questions later.

They had a different destination at the moment, and right now, he was busy taking her to heaven and back.

Elle was dozing when Dick slipped back into the bedroom. He leaned over her and whispered in her ear, hoping he didn't actually wake her, but wanting to keep his promise.

"I'm heading out now, sweetheart. I'll be back sometime around five, if not sooner," he crooned softly.

Elle hummed in sleepy contentment and rolled onto her back. She stretched; a luxurious movement that made Dick want to climb back under the covers with her. It was ten o'clock at night, however, and he should have been out there patrolling two hours ago.

Her eyes blinked open and she took in the uniform he was wearing. She sat up and Dick moved back to sit beside her. Her gaze swept over him with relative calm and no small amount of pride. His heart swelled with the knowledge that she approved of him. Her fingers plucked the mask out of his hands.

"Be careful," he told her. "I already applied the spirit glue to it."

She held it up and Dick helped her by turning it right-side up. Elle licked her lips in concentration as she carefully applied the mask to Dick's face. Before her eyes, he went from the man who held her heart to the hero of her dreams. His amazing, cerulean-blue eyes stared out of the mask at her; their brilliance seemed to be highlighted by the dark material surrounding them.

He started when he noticed the swell of tears in her own warm, brown eyes.

"What's wrong?"

She smiled and a tear escaped to slide down one soft cheek.

"You amaze me," she whispered. "You astound me. Your generosity and courage are beyond measure. You have got to be the best man I've ever met; both in the uniform and out of it. I'm so proud of you; so proud, too, that you're mine."

They were words he had always hoped to hear. He had heard a few of them before at different times, from different people, but never together like this with such passion behind them. He had always taken the words at face value and tried not to doubt them before, but this time, from this woman, they meant the world to him. More so because he knew she meant them; knew they came straight from her heart.

He caught her face in his palms and kissed her hard. All of his love and gratitude sewn up into it. He was suddenly happier than he ever felt before, and it was all because of Elle; his lovely, precious Elle who was proud of him and unselfish enough to share him with the people of Bludhaven; understanding enough to know and accept a part of him that he would never be able to change for anyone. It meant more than words could say to know that she had no desire to change him; that she loved him exactly as he was.

He promised he would give her a call on her cell phone sometime between one-thirty and two a.m. as he flicked down the white, opaque lenses that hid his eyes. Elle shivered a little as he climbed silently through the window and shot a line to a building across the street and swung out. He had a bike hidden out there somewhere, he had told her. He would travel to the start of his patrol route, hide it, and then follow a circuitous route that would lead him right back to his bike at which time he would head home.

He had scribbled out a map for her and marked on it where his approximate location would be when he called her in a few hours. Elle closed the window; leaving it unlocked for his return. He had chosen to exit from a window away from the fire escape so she could do that and feel relatively safe. He disappeared into the shadows, and after a few minutes she heard the sound of a motorcycle. It was far quieter than any normal motorcycle. If she hadn't been listening for it, she might not have noticed it at all.

A tiny flicker of fear traced it way through her veins. The knowledge that this was the last time she might see him alive sent a shiver through her body that had nothing to do with the temperature outside. But she trusted him. Elle had seen him in action once and she had thought that he had seemed invincible then. She knew better, but he was so amazingly quick and agile, she thought it would be miraculous if the bad guy ever had the opportunity to lay a hand on him.

Turning away from the window, she padded across the room and slid open another drawer in his dresser. In one corner, beneath his collection of t-shirts, lay the shell. He had shown her where he had kept it, and even offered to give it to her to keep. She had refused at the time because she had just been overwhelmed with more information than she knew how to process. Elle had had no desire at the time to accrue more.

Now, however, she did.

Picking it up, she held it in her hand. She would never know it was a communicator from this angle. Turning it over, she could see inside of it a glimpse of the technology that enabled her to talk to someone in the bottom of the ocean. It was the middle of the night in Atlantis as well. She would call Arthur in the morning. They would discuss her options and see where that would lead her.

Satisfied with her plan, Elle crawled back into the warmth of Dick's bed and breathed deep the scent of him from his linens. Not quite like being in his arms, but good enough for now. She picked up her cell phone from the bedside table and set it on the pillow beside her head.

She didn't want to miss his call.

REACTIONS?

A possible trip to Atlantis? This could be a good thing or it could be a very bad idea . . . Wonder what her reaction will be when she discovers that the mere half-Atlantian Arthur Curry is really King Odin of Atlantis? LOL!