Warning: Some Language . . .

Dick watched a very dangerous man slam the door behind him as he left the room and hopefully the house. He moved to follow him. Dick needed to know where he was on the estate, but the sound of a chair scraping drew his attention. He turned back to see Elle sitting heavily in her chair. She was shaking so hard it was visible from a distance. Dick glanced back at the door before moving back to Elle's side.

He knelt beside her chair as she reached for her flute and the remaining champagne. He was a little worried that she'd drop it until she grabbed the glass with both hands. She drank what was left, but fumbled the flute as she went to set it down. Dick caught it deftly and returned it safely to the table.

"Are you okay?"

Elle's sudden laughter was so out of place after the drama of the dinner that Dick started.

"Why," she asked him. "Don't I look alright to you?"

The bitterness in her voice was unlike anything he had ever heard from her before. She leaned forward and picked up what was left of her dessert wine, and brought the glass to her lips. Neither spoke as she finished off the wine.

"They never listen to me," she muttered. "No one ever listens to me."

Dick took the glass from her and set it next to her flute.

"I'm supposed to have this fantastically influential voice, but no one ever hears one damned word I have to say." Elle looked at him finally; the terrible sadness etched into her face. "I don't even have the luxury of being invisible. If I were invisible, I would be able to come and go about my life the way I please."

"No one gets to choose their family, Elle," he told her. "We get what we're given and make the best of it."

"You did," she said; a tiny frown of consideration on her face as she studied him, her head tilted to the side.

"What?"

"You chose Bruce, the same way he chose you," she clarified. "I'm fairly certain he would have left you to your own devices had you insisted."

Dick's face was startled, but the dining room faded from his sight briefly as memories invaded his mind. She was right, of course. Bruce never forced himself on Dick. In fact, when the entire world seemed to be pulling and shoving him in all directions at once, Bruce had merely stood there with his hand extended; the calm amidst the raging storm his life had abruptly become. Of course, Dick had chosen him. He had run to him!

He smiled for the first time in his life at the traumatic memory. Bruce had been an island of peace and safety in an ocean of confusion, horror, and loneliness. He might have lost himself forever had it not been for the man who would eventually become his father in the eyes of the law. But Bruce had become that in Dick's heart much faster than the paperwork had allowed. Years faster.

Dick returned to the present to find Elle smiling gently at him. She stretched out a hand; running it through his hair. She traced his ear and his jaw, making him lean into her touch. The love she had for him replaced the earlier bitterness, if not also the exhaustion that came from traversing the minefield this dinner had represented.

How did she do that, he wondered? How did she draw herself out of her own problems in order to remind him of all he had to feel thankful for? As uncomfortable as this evening had been, the peace and joy Elle brought to his life was still there. Amazing . . . he thought. She was amazing.

"Thank you," she breathed.

He blinked. "For what? I've been next to worthless this evening."

"For coming with me," she said softly. "For being here with me still. For not allowing my family to scare you off. For reminding me that there is a world outside of this house." She sighed. "Just being here, you've made this night tolerable."

Her face puckered as if she might break down at any moment. "W-without you, I . . . I don't know what I would have done; what might have happened." A tear escaped to slide down her cheek.

Dick put his hand up and caught the errant drop.

"Elle," he began. How did he ask this? "Has your brother . . . Has Aiden ever . . . hurt you?"

Her gaze flew to his and then away; dropping down and to the left. One of the classic tells of a lie . . . Gritting his teeth, Dick made a fist. He should have just hit the man.

"He has," he said, already knowing the answer.

"No," she told him quietly.

He winced at the lie. "You don't have to protect him, Elle. You can tell me the truth."

She jerked her face up; anger blazing in her eyes. "No! I said, no! You stay away from him, Dick! I will handle my brother."

She jumped to her feet. Giving in to impulse, Elle grabbed her wine glass and threw the costly crystal at the fireplace. The fire flared at the drops of alcohol still present as the delicate crystal shattered into a thousand pieces. She ran.

Dick stood up to run after her, but stopped himself after a few steps. He focused a moment on what he felt from her and determined that this time, Elle actually wanted to be alone. Sighing, he moved back to the table and headed for the outrageously expensive bottle of champagne; picking up Elle's flute along the way.

The bottle was more full than not. He poured himself a glass, draining it much as Elle had moments ago. He didn't know if it truly deserved its price tag, but he could admit that it was some damned good champagne.

"Excuse me, sir."

Dick looked over to find Franklin standing just inside the doorway. "Everyone is gone, Franklin," Dick announced unnecessarily; considering the obvious fact that he was the only one left in the room.

"They have all run away, apparently. You must come and join me. There is no sense in wasting two million dollars like this. Have you ever tasted this stuff?" Dick asked this as he poured himself another glass.

"I just wanted to let you know, sir, that Master Aiden has yet to leave the premises." The butler met Dick's eyes.

There was no reason for him to come to Dick with this bit of information other than he was worried over what the brother might do while he remained. Dick set the flute down.

"I don't suppose you have any idea where Elle might have run off to," he asked as he moved toward the door.

"She most often retreats to the pool room, sir," Franklin informed him.

"And how do I get there from here?"

"Take a right as you exit the room, and take the stairs at the end of the hall."

Dick paused beside the man. "Is Edward or Hugh here?"

Franklin shook his head regretfully. "Master Cedric had given them work in the city. Had they been here, I would not have bothered you."

He placed his hand on the elder man's shoulder. "Informing me when Elle needs help is never bothering me. Thank you."

"No, sir. Thank you," Franklin said as Dick ran out the door. The servant sighed in relief. "Thank God for you."

Dick ran down the stairs and turned the corner. The hallway was long and somewhat narrow; one side of it was covered in long windows that gave views of the indoor pool. Beside one of the windows stood Aiden. The man was tall and imposing, and currently looming over Elle. She had her face down and turned away from him, but her anger and fear were clear to him. He couldn't hear their whispered conversation from here.

Gritting his teeth, his hands clenched, Dick stalked up the hall. If he touched her . . . Dick didn't finish the thought because he didn't know how that conflict would end. He forced himself to swallow some of his anger. Someone needed to have some measure of control. He was a cop. If he wanted to still be a cop by morning, he needed to get his shit together.

"Get away from her," he growled.

Aiden stepped back with his hands in the air. The smirk on his face slid away at the expression on Dick's.

"This is a family matter," the man said.

His smile was more like a snarl as Dick answered with a surprising amount of satisfaction. "I am family."

Aiden's eyes narrowed. "A sibling matter, then. It is nothing to you."

"Anything that concerns Elle, concerns me," Dick clarified. "Chicago is calling. I suggest you not disappoint her."

"This isn't over," Aiden announced loudly; obviously talking to his sister although his eyes never left the predator in front of him. "Tomorrow," he said, although he made it sound like a threat.

Hamilton brushed passed Dick as he made his way towards the stairs. Dick turned to watch him go even as he walked backwards to reach Elle. As her brother disappeared around the corner, Dick stopped beside her.

He looked at her pale face and cursed.

"What did he say to you?" Dick asked her softly.

At her silence, he turned more fully to her and placed his hands on her upper arms.

"Elle, please," he begged, hating the rift that had developed. "Did he hurt you? Touch you in anyway?" Anything that would give him the right to rip into that bastard?

She still wouldn't look at him.

"Don't shut me out, baby. I can feel you, remember?" he tapped his chest. "Right here."

She leaned her head against him and sighed.

"Don't," she whispered. "Don't antagonize him."

"Elle . . ."

"No, Dick," she cut him off. "He's my brother. I will deal with him myself. It has always been between us. It will end that way, too."

"What good is this damned bond if you won't let me protect you?"

Elle pointed down the hall. "Out there," she said calmly. "You protect me from what's out there. I'll handle what's in here."

Despite her calm, he could feel her emotions beating at his chest. They were anything but calm. "Sweetheart . . ."

"I am a strong woman," she suddenly barked at him; stamping her foot for emphasis. "I am not a child! You will respect me in this, Dick Grayson, or you can go back to Bludhaven tonight."

Dick blinked. He knew better than to point out any similarities in her outburst to a tantrum. He wasn't a stupid man. She was too upset to take it in any way but a bad one. She still wouldn't look him in the eye, but continued to stare at his chest. She was stiff with tension. He hated seeing her like this. This wasn't the Elle he knew. Was it wrong of him to want the other Elle back?

He pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. After a few moments of hugging a damned stick, her tension suddenly melted and she returned his embrace. Instinctively, he began to rock her gently back and forth.

"It's over," he reminded her.

And as if that reminder was all she needed, Elle clutched at him and suddenly sobbed.

His normal empathy apparently wasn't enough. Elle's emotions crashed into him, and it was all he could do to remain standing against it.

Damn them! Damn them for doing this to her!

"Sh, sh, it's over now," he crooned against her hair. "I'm here. I'm not leaving you. Everything will work out, sweetheart. You'll see . . ."

For long, long minutes she cried against his shirt. Finally, she pulled back. Dick didn't want to release her, but she reached up to her shoulders as if she were going to hug herself. It was a little surprising when she pushed the top of her dress down.

"Wh-what are you doing," he asked, curiously. He glanced up the hallway, but no one appeared.

She stepped out of the dress, allowing it to puddle on the floor. She didn't stop at her underwear this time, however. When she was nude, she walked to the door to the pool; pausing only to glance back at him, and then she was gone. Through the window, he watched her dive into the water and disappear from his sight.

Maybe they would be able to salvage the evening, after all, he thought to himself. He kind of wished he had brought the last of the Gout de Diamants with him and a couple of flutes. But it was probably better not to drink and swim, he smirked, tugging at his tie. Shrugging out of his jacket, he left the two articles of clothing behind as he moved to follow his bondmate into the pool room.

The hallway was deserted and quiet except for the muted sounds of splashing and the occasional echo of distant laughter.

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