seaglassblue

Tinnitus was screaming in his ears and his face was burning with heat from the previous explosion. He waited for the sound to fade out before springing at the remaining enemy. They went down in heaps of ash, and Jason sagged in relief. The smoke was clearing, but alarm bells were still going off in his head. Something wasn’t right.

Collapsing against the closest support beam, he tapped into his comms. 

“Hey, O. Can you hear me?”

The device crackled for a bit, then:

“I hear you, Red Hood. What do you need?”

“...who’s closest to my location?”

“--Red Robin is in the area.”

“Got it. Can you ask him to clean up here? I–”

His hand fell from his ear as his knees gave out. 

Jason hit the warehouse floor with a thud. He hoped the building didn’t burn down with him still in it.

“--Red Hood? Red Hood–”

.

.

.

“--Jason!”

It took a few tries for him to comfortably keep his eyes open. When his lashes finally settled, you came into clarity, leaning over him like an angel sent to collect him. 

“Am I still in one piece?” He groaned, forcing a smile onto his face. 

You glared at him with tears in your eyes. Ever so beautiful.

“Yes, you dumbass.”

He wrapped you into his bandaged arms, and you held onto him tightly as his wounds would allow.

-

Gotham’s sunsets were… strange. As far as Jason could remember, the light had always felt wrong when it washed over the city. Like it didn’t belong there.  

Maybe because I don’t belong here.

The manor was glowing on the hill to his right. To his left, shadows bounced far and wide as the light fluctuated between buildings. He kept his senses alert for fear of what he would see in the streets–Oracle had briefed them on a possible Arkham breakout tonight. 

Not him. He was on bedrest, or supposed to be. 

“Thought I’d find you out and about,” your voice called out. Groaning, he turned around with his hands up in mock surrender. 

“You caught me, sweetheart.”

“You won’t hear the end of it from Alfred,” you teased. “Not that I’m any happier about you sneaking out when you’re supposed to be resting.”

He averted his gaze as your eyes fixed on him. 

“I just wanted some air,” he mumbled, turning back to the rooftops. You padded over to him, grit crunching beneath your sneakers. Your hand slipped into his, and he squeezed it gratefully. He didn’t have to look at your eyes to know they’d softened, that they were testing his waters. 

He didn’t stop you from diving in. He never could. 

“What’s eating you, Jay?”

“...I don’t know.”

You waited for him, slowly drifting the two of you to a corner so you could perch on the roof ledge. When you swung yourself up, panic momentarily spiked in him as he saw you lean back. His hands twitched towards you instinctively, his entirety gravitating to you in order to make sure you didn’t fall. If you noticed, you didn’t mention it. 

“Talk to me,” you whispered, brushing your fingers lovingly along his cheekbone. He chased after your hands, leaning into your touch like it could heal him, him and all his mistakes. 

“I feel blue,” he admitted. 

“Blue?”

“Blue,” he agreed. “I don’t understand what it is.”

The two of you stayed silent for a while. You rocked gently on the ledge while Jason was slotted between your legs, head resting on your thigh. His hand gripped yours tightly, silently pleading with you to anchor him to your shores. 

“Do you think maybe it’s the holidays? Y’know, seasonal depression or something?”

“Or something,” he muttered. Another quiet minute passed before you made a move. You leaned down, snaking your arms about his waist. Your hands traveled further and further along his torso before quickly slipping into his jacket’s inner seam. “Y’know,” Jason smirked, reaching down to grab your wrists, “if you wanted to grope me you could’ve just–”

“Found them,” you announced, producing a pack of cigs from the leather folds. 

Jason’s jaw went slack. 

“...how long have you known about those?”

“About a year now,” you said, biting the broken edge of your nail clean off. Wait, did that turn him on? 

You gently loosened yourself from his grip, standing up and gesturing for him to do the same. When he towered a good foot above you, you reached into his outer pocket and pulled out a lighter. Laughing at his flabbergasted look, you turned to give the flint wheel a little jolt. 

The rosy golden hue of the sunset was suddenly cupped in your hands, hazy darkness had descended upon Gotham like a blanket of snow. Jason was drawn to the light as you blew experimentally on the flame to make it sway, flickering across your palm. 

“You catch on quick,” you commented, looking at the open pack of cigs. He was hesitant to put one between his fingers, you hadn’t liked smokers since your Bowery days. But here you were now, smiling wryly at him like it was no big deal. 

He chanced a crooked grin as he tucked the cig between his lips. Ignoring the open flame just inches from his face, he nudged his way into your space. Rough hands took up their place on your waist, your arm rested across his shoulders, and he was so close. 

“Help a guy out here, darling.”

“My pleasure,” you replied smoothly, holding the lighter up between the two of you. Angling your face to avoid the first wisps of burnt black smoke, you set fire to the end of the stick. 

Two pairs of eyes watched the cig smolder. Jason readjusted you so that you were tucked into his side. When your head fell onto his shoulder, he released the first lungful. It clouded your eyes as you watched its course. 

“Hey, Jay.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s good to have you here.”

He didn’t reply, but you knew he knew. 

Jason tossed and turned under the sheets that were smothering his body, eventually throwing them off before crawling back when the cold bit at him. 

It was the worst night to fall asleep—two days from Christmas and all he had were the stifling bedcovers and a persistent migraine. No body warming the bed next to him, no delicate breath against his skin. 

No you. 

You must have received some sort of sign from the cosmos, however, because a few minutes later, his phone lit up on the nightstand. 

A gleam entered his eyes as the screen reflected off his half-lidded gaze, growing brighter as he picked up on your caller ID. 

“‘Ello?”

He winced at the crackle that popped through his throat, holding the phone away as he coughed. 

“Hey, Jay.”

You sounded like you were smiling—god, he hoped you were smiling. 

“Hey, sweetheart. How’s the old crime rate doing uptown?”

“Uptown? Very funny, Mr. Todd—“

“Don’t you dare,” he growled, trying to ignore the grin breaking out on his face. 

“—Todd-Wayne, heir to a cut of the greatest fortune in all of America and possibly, the world.”

Oh, you were so in for it when you got home. 

“Tease,” he accused as he settled against the newly refurbished headboard. “You’ll pay for that later, doll.”

“I’m sure I will,” you replied serenely. “Lucky for me, Timmy’s going to be the one picking me up tomorrow.”

“What? I didn’t know that.” He frowned slightly. “Isn’t the Timbourine too busy taking care of business?”

Your no was positively gleeful. 

“He said, in his own words, that you and Dickie would steal me away the second we got to the gala and that he was taking advantage of the time allotted.” 

His groan echoed through the phone, and even he could hear the crooked smile in his voice. 

“All right then, doll. Say hi to Uncle Clark for me. And I guess I’ll have to catch you at the bar tomorrow night then,” he sighed, and he made sure to stretch it out as languidly as possible. If only to get your heart to twist for him—just a bit. 

“You’ll see me,” you whispered sweetly. Jason heard the soft chirrup of your kiss before you hung up. He chuckled—how cute was that, Mrs. Todd?

-

The next day, he got two texts from Tim. 

Stole Timmy’s phone. Over at his place for the day, I’ll see you at the bar?

Sorry abt that idk why your wife keeps forgetting she has her own phone. See u later were out for shoes

Grinning, he texted them back on their respective accounts. 

-

The roar of his motorcycle died as he parked it at the side of Wayne Manor’s garage, duffel bag swinging from his arm as he checked his watch. Nine o’ clock, he had just enough time to switch out his cargo pants for his trousers. He could already hear the rumble of the crowd as he passed a few windows. 

Slipping in through a side door, he made it to a bathroom and removed his boots before entering. Alfred would have his hide if he cracked the tile and Jason knew better. 

A few minutes later, he left the bathroom with a conspicuously lumpy bag, his uniform boots considerably larger than his loafers. He tossed the bag in his old room before making his way to the gala hall. 

Second dinner was in full swing as waiters paraded along the tables with trays of food. Jason only peeked in before deciding that whatever he could whip up in the kitchen would be infinitely more filling than the first class morsels being served. 

Luckily, he met Alfred by the door. 

“Master Jason, Merry Christmas to you.”

“You too, Alf. So good to see you.” He wrapped his arms around the old butler, and his grandfather let go of his strictly professional demeanour to return the hug. 

“Now, my dear boy, why aren’t you dining with the rest of our family in the hall?” Alfred asked when they parted. “Your wife asked after you.”

Jason offered a lopsided smile. 

“Well, I’m not giving up the time I get to spend with my old man.”

“I am touched, Jason. However, I’m certain your absence in the hall will concern Master Bruce and your wife. Shall I notify them that you are here, eating the recommended amount of Christmas dinner?”

He thought it over for a second, yes, you would wonder where he was, but that wasn’t with the intention of seeing him. 

Jason grinned. 

“No, I’ll take my time and notify them myself.”

-

He stifled a burp as he slid between the upper crust of Gotham, making slow work of navigating the crowd. A glimpse at the bar showed him you weren’t there, though you had been just moments ago. 

You’d waggled your fingers at him in a way of hello, then taken off as soon as you saw him pivot towards you. 

“Playing the long game tonight, aren’t we?” He muttered, grinning upon reaching your empty seat. 

He turned and instantly knocked into Tim. The two of them stared for a second, then took up seats at the bar. 

“Alcohol,” Tim told the bartender. Jason rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t worry, he’s not drunk,” he informed the bartender. “Not yet, anyway.”

Their weary smile told Jason they understood perfectly. Soon, drinks were in their hands. 

“So what’s the deal with her running off?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older, Timbers.”

“At least you’re not making fun of my shoes this time.”

“Nah, those aren’t fun-sized.”

-

Two hours later, Jason was back on your trail—he had a good idea of where you’d be at this time. He stole up a staircase, whistling Jingle Bells to himself. The relief of escaping dance partners who weren’t you put a spring in his step. He unlatched a window and shuffled out onto the manor roof. Sure enough, you were standing at the edge, facing him with your arms outstretched. 

“Took you long enough,” you called to him as he slipped down the snow-covered eaves toward you. 

“Look who’s talking.” He pouted. “You spend a week away on business and you tell me I’m late?”

“Actually, a bit early,” you corrected. “It’s not midnight yet.”

“You were going to wait up here ‘til Christmas?” He asked, catching you up in his arms. He tipped you toward the edge, basking in your whoop of surprised delight. He braced himself as you swung your foot at the snow-covered ledge, knocking off a clump of the powder with your heel.

“Okay, Jack, let me down,” you teased as he propped you up on his forearm like a child. 

“No, I like this view,” he replied, and got his hair pulled in return. Laughing, he set you down carefully on the ledge. 

“You are such a menace.” You leaned forward to touch your forehead to his.

“And your menace hopes you missed him,” he replied without missing a beat.

After years of knowing him, even after marrying him, you still blush. 

“I did,” you admitted, a rare shyness creeping into your eyes.

He smiled.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he murmured against your crown, pressing his lips to your hair. 

Gotham was a peculiar place to live in. 

Most nights, it was dark, pitch black and blood red mingling from the back alleys to the big roads. Most days, it was gray, even as the city bustled with life. However, the few times a year that it became just like any other city was the holidays. 

Your breath came in puffs of smoke as you panted slightly, out-of-office rounds were becoming more and more frequent as Christmas approached. More business to take care of, last-minute deadlines before the holiday break.

As you began to recognize landmarks on your way home, you considered cutting through the mall. It would be warmer and faster. Less riskier than slipping on the icy sidewalk. 

Surely there won’t be that many people. 

And you set off for the nearest entrance. 

-

The mall was packed. 

“What is this, a T-Swift concert?” you moaned as you tried to swerve past a group of people going in the opposite direction. “Never taking this shortcut on holidays again… don’t know what I was thinking.”

The high ceilings of the mall projected the rumble of the crowd into your ears as you wove in between shoppers. And as you noticed more and more Christmas merchandise, you realized just how stupid your idea of a shortcut had been.

You were so glad that your husband wasn’t here to tease you. You’d never hear the end of it. 

-

You made it home eventually. After a few minutes more of getting jostled by eager children and frenzied shoppers, you had slipped out a side door in the end. 

It had been a long day, and you could feel it in your aching bones as you dragged yourself across the threshold of your new home. 

“Honey, I’m home,” you sang tiredly as you shucked off your shoes at the door.

“In the kitchen,” your husband called out. 

Your husband. 

You sighed happily, some of your fatigue dripping away with it like water down a sink. It delighted you to no end to be able to call him that, call him yours. Just as you were going to peek in the kitchen, Jason came to you first. 

He was wearing one of your aprons, the red-green-and-white checkered one. It was the subject of your never-ending debate on whether it was Christmas themed or all-purpose. You ignored that today, instead opting to press a soft kiss to his jaw. 

“Hey, doll,” he greeted you. A mischievous grin appeared on his lips. “Or should I say my wife?”

“Both are much appreciated,” you murmured into the crook of his neck. He wrapped an arm around you, careful not to touch you with his ‘cooking hands’. But the gentle flex of his bicep against your spine was more than enough. 

“Rough day?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe. It’s coming to a close, though,” you told him as your gazes met. 

“Good.” He left kisses along your hairline before releasing you from his grip. “Go wash up and I’ll have dinner on the table when you get back.”

“My little househusband,” you teased. 

“Don’t know about the little part, but I am a helluva cook,” he winked. 

“Agreed.” Shaking your head good-naturedly, you went to freshen up for dinner.

-

The sky outside was a smoky gray-black when you passed the window, noticing some stray snowflakes beginning to drift down. 

“Jay,” you called ahead. “It’s snowing.”

“Yeah?” He looked up from where he’d been setting the table. 

“It’s snowing out,” you repeated, coming to loop your arms around his waist. He hummed as he grasped your hands and lifted them to his lips. Kisses tickled your fingertips as he graced them with soft pecks. You nuzzled into his defined back, the skin there warming up swiftly as you pressed your cheek into him. 

“Someone’s feeling cuddly tonight,” he commented fondly, slowly turning in your embrace so that he could face you. 

“Am I?” You wondered, touching your now warm forehead to his. He murmured a yes and began to twirl you slowly around the table to your seat. “No couch?” You asked as he sat in his own chair, chuffing in contentment. 

“Nope. Figured I should up the ante a bit, especially since you’ve been working so hard lately.”

Nodding gratefully, you dug into the meal he’d prepared for the both of you, eyes closing in ecstasy as the first flavors hit your tongue. 

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” You asked, although already knowing the answer. 

“Alfie. But you knew that,” he chastised playfully. “He’s taught you a few tricks too, right?”

“Mhm. Can we go see him soon?”

“Not on Fridays. That’s when almost everyone’s home,” he grumbled. You giggled. 

“But Jay–”

“Don’t but Jay me, you can’t rope me into another Christmas gala.”

“We haven’t been to one in a while,” you pointed out. “Might as well go, to celebrate our marriage, hmm?” You gave him your best puppy eyes, a product of watching him and Dick do it to you a few too many times. And sure enough, Jason cracked. 

“Fine,” he relented. “But you’re staying with me the whole time, darling.”

“Of course I will,” you assured him. He perked up, eyes brightening ever so slightly. You loved that soft blue glimmer, it made you want to wrap him in a hug and never let go. He always told you that he felt the same.

-

You sank into the couch after dinner, a smile on your face and warmth in your belly. It was the best feeling to sit here and know that Jason would come to you. And come he did, appearing in the doorway arch like magic. You beckoned to him, and he obeyed with a wordless smile. 

“Hi,” you breathed as your noses brushed. 

“Hi,” he replied. His arms snaked around you, gradually lowering you so that your back was on the couch and his head was on your thighs. 

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” You joked, stroking his hair and gazing fondly at him. 

“I love you either way, sweetheart,” he said easily, eyes slipping closed as he leaned into your touch. Your heart purred, it was fascinating to see how you healed him as much as he did for you. 

“Hey, Jay?”

“Mh?”

“Thank you… for everything.”

“‘S not a problem, doll.” 

“My workload hasn’t been too lenient, no thanks to the jerk who messed up as much stuff as he possibly could for me.”

Don’t pay attention to him, you’d said. You’d probably expected him to move on and forget about it as he doted on you. 

But Jason wasn’t against holding grudges. You probably should’ve seen this coming. 

-

Jason perched on the rooftop ledge of your former boss’ house. 

It was a nice house, but maybe a little too nice. As expected of someone who’d lived as an executive and made money off other people’s backs. He scoffed scornfully as he cocked his ear for signs of life. 

And there. 

He could hear the middle-aged man tottering around his home. A little too happily for Jason’s tastes, he was humming a little tune as he opened the window. Completely oblivious to the antihero sitting just above him. 

“Hello?” 

This could be good.

“Ms. Vale. Yes, it’s me. Listen, I know what happened last time, but I promise that this story will blow up in much better ways than before. Not for her, of course.” Then followed a nasty little chuckle. 

Jason was glad he’d heard that. Not for your boss, of course. 

-

Just under an hour later, Jason was walking into Gotham Gazette. He had suited up–not in Red Hood gear, but in a regular old work suit that he hadn’t touched since his security days. Picking through the office halls to Vicki Vale’s very own. It didn’t take him long to find. 

He knocked. 

“Come in!”

He walked in. 

“Ms. Vale,” he drawled, and the redheaded reporter whirled at his voice. 

“Jason Todd–? Whatever brings you to GG?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just wanted to ask about an article you wrote a while back.”

She had the good grace to flush. 

“Surely you don’t mean that silly paparazzi fluff piece.”

She had outspoken. Jason’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he replied,

“Fluff piece? I don’t think so.” He closed the door behind him. “Not where my girl’s concerned.”

“Well–I was actually planning on paying a visit to the Daily Planet in a few days,” she giggled, Jason detected the nervous tinge to her voice and pounced on it.

“Really? What, did the printer break down over here? Run out of toner? Or,” he rumbled, “pretending to lie low so you can ambush our wedding?”

“I–”

“You wouldn’t, would ya?” He sneered. “Guess no one ever taught you that overstepping isn’t welcome. Especially not to me.”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Vicki insisted, having found her words. “I resolved the article for you, didn’t I? Why would I go and betray that trust?”

Jason sighed. This was getting to be more than a little bit of a migraine. 

“Because,” he said slowly. “You’re being duped.”

“W-what?”

“You’re being tricked by a fraud,” Jason repeated. “The guy who called you for the–paparazzi fluff piece offered you another story and told you it couldn’t go wrong. And you know that dating an executive gives you a better chance to attend rich folks’ parties.” He shook his head, sighing, “Believe me, you don’t wanna do that.”

“You’re not wrong. I’ll get better stories–better gossip from the upper circles. Is that so wrong?”

“Missing the point here, Vale. I told you you’re being tricked. The guy isn’t an executive. Not anymore.”

Her jaw dropped. 

“But there’s no way! I’ve been to his office!”

“When?”

“Last… “ she faltered and trailed off as a look of realization dawned on her face. “Oh.”

That was enough for Jason. It was probably enough for her too. She was a sensible woman, he reasoned. She’d know what to do from here. His job was done. He turned to go. 

“Wait!” He glanced back at her, brow raised in question. “Who’s the new executive, then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” And with a final smirk, he left.

-

He waited on the couch for the rest of the day, switching between watching the tv and the door. Finally, at 7, you walked through. You were visibly tired, but nothing seemed too out of place just yet. A pleasantly surprised smile spread across your face when you met his gaze. 

“How was your day off, Jay?” You asked as he drew you in for a hug and kiss. 

“Fine. Went out for some air,” he responded, continuing to kiss you all over. You giggled as his lips brushed along your jawline. 

“Stop it,” you whined playfully. “I’m dirty.”

“Mm, yea, I don’t think so.” He ignored your embarrassed ‘hey!’ and only released you when you tapped out on his back, promising to return after your shower. 

“Be quick. I wanna get you fed and in bed after this,” he called after your retreating back. 

“Will do!” You called back. He smiled, you didn’t know about the article that had almost gone out today. 

-

Later in bed, you scrolled through the day’s news on your phone, sifting through stocks to pop stars. Jason read the headlines with you over your shoulder, you were propped up against him, and he against the headboard. 

“Nothing interesting?” He asked when you put your phone away. 

“Nah. Been quiet lately.”

“B must be doing a good job of keeping the preparations on the down-low.”

“Mhm.” You nodded, leaning your head back into his chest. He hummed, and you practically melted in his arms as the low sound vibrated through both of you. “I can’t believe it’s only a few days away,” you breathed. “We’re going to be married. It’s surreal.”

“Isn’t it?” He teased. “I can’t believe I get to marry someone so beautiful and capable. How lucky am I, sweetheart?”

You’re definitely blushing by now, even if he can’t see your face from his angle. 

The pitter-patter of rain on your window fell into rhythm with the steady beats of your heart. Your laptop was open and your eyelids were drooping. The last few late nights were starting to catch up to you. It was only 12 and you were already about ready to throw in the towel. 

After you had taken over as head of your office department, work had been rougher on you. Especially with your ex-boss doing his best to ruin things for you after he was forced to leave by HR. For the first time since starting your job, you felt incapable. 

You could do the work. But your mind distracted from your sense of duty, redirecting your focus to mindless little things like the rain. The false lull fooled you into thinking that you would wake up tomorrow and greet a Saturday morning. Unfortunately, that was far from the truth. The clock ticked steadily towards 1, you were sluggish and you had a strong desire to just ignore your responsibilities. 

Come on, you think. Focus. Find motivators. Like the wedding. Okay, good. You’re marrying the love of your life in a few days. 

“And I’m working like some chump,” you groan, leaning back and bumping into the headboard. You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to clear away the heavy feeling tugging at your lids, but instead you slip away into sleep.

-

When you wake up, your head is on Jason’s fresh, slightly damp thigh. You laugh mirthlessly, tears springing to your eyes as you realize you’d overslept. The slightest turn of your head, and you see the red clock numbers spelling out 4:30.

Jason must sense that you’re about to cry, because his hands move out of your hair–where he’s been gently hand-brushing it–to cradle your cheeks.

“Hey, doll,” he breathes softly. “How are you feeling?” 

You answer with a broken moan. 

“That bad?” 

His voice is filled with concern. You slowly lift your hands to cover your eyes as a tear slips down your face. It’s traitorous. You think you’ve been crying too much lately, and although you know that you’re not an emotional person, you can’t help but feel like one. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, voice hitching from the growing lump in your throat. “It’s not going great.”

Jason slips out from underneath you, gently placing your head on the pillows and putting your laptop away. 

“You shouldn’t stay up so late,” he chides. You scoff. 

“You’re one to talk.” 

“Touché,” he chuckles. You can’t help the little smirk that breaks out on your face, and Jason visibly brightens at the sight. The bed squeaks quietly as he bobs to place your sleeping device on the bedside table. You find a scrap of comfort in the sound as it pulls your focus away from the incessant ticking of the clock.

“How was patrol?” You whisper. You’re still not confident that your voice won’t waver when you speak to him. 

“It was wet,” Jason admitted. “Not too great for us either, but nothing we can’t handle.”

“Dick must’ve looked a sight,” you snickered, picturing his skin-tight suit plastering even closer to his body and soaking through. You could almost hear his whining complaints, and Jason telling him to shut up. 

“He wasn’t the only one who sacrificed his suit,” Jason pouted. “If I didn’t run the cycle early, you’d be complaining about the washing machine stinking up the place.”

“You’re right. Thank you,” you cooed, reaching for him so that you could kiss his nose. 

“You’re welcome.” He grins, turning off the lamp on your side of the bed. He tucks himself in, slotting his body against yours. His large, warm limbs fold you into his embrace, and you sigh contentedly.

“How are you so good at making me feel better?” You wonder, snuggling deeper into his strong arms. You figure you’ve earned a few moments of weakness. 

“Because I know you, princess. You were probably overthinking your project before I got home, yeah?”

How’d he know?

“That’s exactly what I was doing,” you admit. “My workload hasn’t been too lenient, no thanks to the jerk who messed up as much stuff as he possibly could for me.”

You feel Jason’s grip tighten around you, and you just know he’s thinking about shooting the guy’s kneecaps out. You’re inclined to agree, but it’s pointless picking fights with someone who’s already left your orbit. 

“Don’t pay attention to him,” you yawn. “It could just be my brain making up excuses. Actually, that’s probably what I’m doing.”

“No, doll. I know how hard you work, and you’re never one to give up easily. If you feeling tired isn’t a sign of burnout, then I don’t know what is,” Jason insists, and your heart swells with gratitude. 

“Thanks, Jay,” you murmur, rubbing your cold nose on his bicep. 

“Anytime. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, you should probably take a few days off. Even working this close to the wedding is weird enough–well, it’s you. My little workaholic,” Jason says fondly. 

“I don’t know how much my new uppers are willing to let me go for the wedding prep,” you sigh. “It’s a delicate situation right now, what with the recent shift in admin.”

Thunder rumbles outside, and you can sense the flash of light that follows, even as your eyes are sliding shut for the hundredth time. 

“Just go to sleep, sweetheart. Don’t want my fiance falling asleep on me at our wedding,” Jason teases. You smile against his chest. 

“Ha… ha… real funny…” A yawn cuts you off, and you struggle to stay awake for a few moments more. Jason begins to hum quietly, and it blocks out the rest of the room’s noises while soothing you to sleep. “Wake me… up?”

“We’ll see,” Jason sighed, or so you think. You can’t tell as your senses shut down one by one. But the last thing he says, you hear distinctly: “I love you.”

“Love… you too.”

The engagement diamond is barely back on your finger for two minutes when you get bombarded with calls from your friends–a few in particular. Even though your recently set wedding day is still weeks away, they insist on taking you out on a bachelorette bash. 

What can you do except say yes?

-

The moment you step onto the street, a chorus of squeals greet you. Your face lights up as you see your lady squad lounging about one of Bruce Wayne’s limousines. You wave excitedly as you start towards them. 

Selina is sitting on the hood, black dress blending into her background. Her smile, however, is as blinding as ever. 

Stephanie and Cass are huddled together at the front of the group, the former bouncing on her feet and the latter gazing at you fondly. The door closest to them swings open to reveal a waving Barbara, her glasses are off tonight and you think she looks beautiful. 

“Get over here, girl!” Steph finally explodes, running over to catch you up in a hug. You laugh as she lifts you into the air like you weigh nothing, giggling breathlessly when you’re back on solid ground. 

“You look gorgeous,” you compliment her, then turn to the rest of the group. “You all do.”

Selina slides off the hood to greet you, green eyes sparkling. 

“You better get in the car, honey. Someone’s been dying to meet you,” she says, lips quirking mischievously. You gasp as you realize who it might be. 

“You didn’t–Harley!” You yelp joyfully, you’d been itching to meet the lady anti-hero ever since Selina had mentioned her. Sure enough, a pair of pink-and-blue pigtails swing your way from the driver’s seat. 

“Hey, sugar! Nice to meet ya!” Harley Quinn squeals, and your heart flutters madly when you meet her fun-loving gaze. 

“I can’t believe you’re all going to take me out tonight,” you tease as you get in beside Barbara. “It’s gonna be one hell of a send-off with you ladies.”

“Oh, you can count on it.” Steph’s grin is positively wicked as she straps herself in on your other side, Cass joining her. “Step on it, Harls!”

“You got it!”

-

The first place they take you is one of the biggest boutiques in town, Selina leading you all into the shop. Surprise, surprise–it’s been rented out just for you tonight. 

“Bruce is gonna feel tonight on his credit card, huh?” You chuckle as you run a hand over a blue silk dress. 

“You know it, kitten.” Selina smirks. “Nothing he can’t earn back, though. So don’t pay any attention to the budget tonight, sweetheart. It’s on us–with a little help from Batsy’s black card.”

This rouses laughter from everyone, and hands fly to grab gowns off the racks. A few photoshoots later, you’re all decked out in shimmering garments that fall elegantly around you like colorful auras. What’s more, the entire group is covered from head to toe in jewelry, enough to make you shine bright as little suns. The doorbell tinkles over your heads as you file out the door and back into the limo. 

“Where to next? We didn’t spend too long in there,” you say breathlessly. 

“Mhm–you’ll see in just a bit!” Steph titters. Harley snickered from the passenger seat up front, she’d switched off driving duty with Selina.

“I’ll give ya a hint, sugar–if you were this excited to meet little ol’ me, you’ll go absolutely bonkers soon!”

-

Harley was right. 

Your mouth drops open as you crane your neck to see the entirety of the behemoth of a yacht before you. 

“You guys didn’t tell me that you rented out the freaking Titanic!” you squawked, your hair brushing your bare shoulders as you shook your head back and forth in wonder. 

“Well, better be careful with that rock, then. You wouldn’t want to cause this one to sink too!” Barbara joked, referring to your ring as you helped her up the ramp. You grin at her tasteful reference, finally making it to the deck. 

What you don’t expect is the throngs of eyes swinging your way as you stand there with your girls. 

Then you realize that you know some of these people. Recognition spreads in your mind like wildfire as your gaze jumps from person to person. Your friends must’ve pulled a few strings, because you can pick out Wonder Woman and Black Canary from the crowd almost instantly. 

“Oh my god,” you murmur faintly. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

Cass looks mildly alarmed, but calms as she reads your body language. You’re glad for her patience, because you would not have appreciated a trip to the ER because your friends mistook your excitement for illness. 

Just then, Wonder Woman catches you staring at her. Smiling, she says something to Black Canary, and the blonde hero winks at you. You swoon, and Steph makes a show of catching you in her arms. 

“Listen,” you say dreamily, “I know I’m getting married to Jason, but if Dinah Lance asks me out tonight, I just might have to call off the wedding.” 

“Agreed,” Steph sighs, shooting a playful look at Cass. The ravenette shrugs good-naturedly, and it makes you all smile. 

“Let’s go mingle! We’re not going out with anyone if we jus’ keep standing here,'' Harley sings, and with overlapping agreements, you melt into the crowds. It’s a wild experience, flitting through the throngs of heroines in the most ridiculously flashy heels you’ve ever chosen in your life. You’re still reeling after meeting your two favorite Justice League members that you almost miss the clinking of Selina’s glass. 

“May I have your attention?” She purrs, and heads turn. “Thank you all for coming out, I know our bride-to-be really enjoyed herself tonight!” Playful catcalls ring out, and you blush graciously as you remember Dinah’s lips on your cheek. You could’ve died happy right then and there, but you were glad you hadn’t. This had been such an incredible night, and your heart was about ready to burst with love for your friends. 

“It’s almost midnight–let’s send our little bride off!” Barbara calls out. Cheers go up, champagne bottles pop, and suddenly fireworks burst into life overhead as the yacht cruises along Gotham’s glittering coast. You can feel tears of joy sliding down your cheeks, and you let out a happy sob as arms wrap around you. 

“Thank you all so much,” you exclaim, wiping at your face as you bring your arms around your five amazing friends. “This was the best night a girl could’ve asked for.”

“You know it, sugar!” 

It was lovely waking up in his bed again. 

The first thing you laid eyes on when you awoke was him, bare skin going on forever down to his toes. A slow grin stretched across your lips as you kissed his cheeks, before rising from the bed to get dressed. 

You were getting promoted today, whether your upper knew it or not.

-

After sliding your last hairpin into place, you turned to Jason. He had just gotten up, and it was going to make you both late. Watching him at the coffee table, you sighed and went over to him, pressing a light kiss to his hair. 

“I’m going to go ahead to the office, okay?” 

He nodded, quickly swallowing so he could respond. 

“‘Kay. I’ll pick you up after work?”

“Mm.. maybe a little earlier than that.”

Jason smirked. Rising from his chair, he towered over you as he leaned in to nudge your forehead. 

“I’ll see you in a bit then, sweetheart.”

And with a quirk of your maroon lips, you headed out the door.

-

Click-clack. Click-clack. Click-clack.

Your heels drummed a clean rhythm into the industrial-white floors as you sauntered through the rows of cubicles, people averting their gazes as you breezed by. No one dared catch your eye as you walked straight toward your boss’ office. The secretary, a usually chatty woman, buzzed you in without saying a word. 

“Thank you,” you simpered sweetly, plucking a mint from the bowl on her desk. She nodded, her smile looking more like a grimace. 

So everyone knew what you were about to do. Except for your boss himself, that is. He strutted into his office like it was any other day, and for him, it probably was. But you were about to change that.

“Sir,” you greeted him. 

“This better be quick, I don’t have all day,” He snapped, slumping heavily into his chair. You hoped he’d kept the desk clean enough for you to use after he was gone. It was a nice, polished piece that you’d rather like to keep.

“Don’t worry sir, this shouldn’t take long.” You said. “Now, I do hope you recall the news article I was a part of a while back.”

And immediately, the atmosphere shifted.

“D-do I? Yes, that one with the Wayne ward, correct?”

You smiled.

“Correct,” you pronounced, your grin turning wicked. “I had planned to move on after it was resolved. But do you know what I happened to receive, just yesterday?”

“I-I couldn’t possibly imagine–”

“This,” you hissed. Your arm drew back and he flinched as you brought your hand down on his desk. “Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

You had absolutely meant it.

From behind your back, you produced a folder and slid it across to him. 

“What is this?” He asked, sweat beading in his hairline.

“Evidence. It helped me make some connections, you see.” Finally, you sat in the seat in front of your boss, crossing your legs. “After that article came out, I couldn’t help but wonder, who could possibly want to jeopardize me?”

“I’m sure–”

“Are you, though?” You fixed him with a sharp gaze. “Because I found out who sent that picture to the press. With a full description of what to write alongside it.”

You whipped out your phone from your pocket. Clearing your throat, you read from the copy of the original article that you had saved. “It seems that women working high positions always fall for the charms of money. An easy way out of work and into rich men’s beds, if you will.”

“You–”

“Jason Todd-Wayne has only been back in town for a few weeks, and he already has a young harlot on his arm. Tell me, sir, what do you make of this?”

He couldn’t answer for the life of him, shaking in his chair and growing steadily redder in the face. 

“I see. Not as eloquent with your words now, are you? Only smooth-talking for the press, is that it?”

“Is that a threat, you–”

“What? What is there that you haven’t called me already, using the voice of the media? What is there that you think you have to prove? It’s pathetic, is what it is,” you spat, springing abruptly from your seat. Leaning over the desk, you had his tiny eyes widened with horror. “Tch. I don’t know how I ever stayed in this position for so long with you as my superior. Fortunately–” a smile returned to your face– “that ends today.”

“What?”

“That’s right. I’m calling you out. It’s high time things changed around here. The evidence and my report is already in HR’s hands. I expect to hear from them very, very soon,” you concluded silkily. 

He stammered, sweat beginning to drip from his slackened cheeks. You scoffed, turning on your heel as you stalked out of his office. Remembering the mint you’d slipped from his secretary, you popped it into your mouth and tossed the wrapper over your shoulder. 

When the door shut behind you, you could feel the catharsis sweeping over you. 

“Ah,” you sighed, contentment filling you. The secretary jumped in her seat, eyes darting back to her computer. You rolled your eyes. “No need for subtlety, hon. It’s not like you ever used it in your life.”

Her indignant glare only added to the thrill as you continued your walk back to the elevators. You had just made it halfway when your boss’ door slammed open. 

“You can’t take this away from me! I will not lose my job to some woman making threats at me in my own office!”

“Really now–” you whirled to face him– “you can’t possibly think you’re in the right here. Don’t embarrass yourself in front of the entire office.”

Veins popped in his forehead as he seethed at you, mouth open to yell more insults at you, no doubt. But before he could, someone’s hand came to grasp at yours. 

“Looks like I made it on time,” Jason rumbled, looking around at the shocked gazes of your colleagues. This time, your boss wasn’t the only one to blanch as people noticed the presence of the intimidating Wayne ward.

“Sure did, Jay,” you replied without looking back at him. His hand squeezed yours encouragingly, and you squeezed back.

“You called him–? Think he’s gonna protect you, huh? Getting his rich daddy to back you up?” Your boss yelled, his voice carrying loud and clear throughout the office. All keyboards stopped simultaneously.

“No,” you replied simply. “I’m only doing what’s right by me–and no one is going to question my decisions to make this change, are they?” Your challenging gaze swept over the sea of government employees, no one daring to make a peep.

“Didn’t think so.”

You tipped your head at your ex-boss as the elevator doors closed.

-

“You really did him in, doll.” Jason’s voice was full of admiration as he gazed at you adoringly.

Hey, doll. Can I ask you a question?

-

He watched the three little dots pulse gently on-screen for a good minute. Then,

Sure.

Where are you?

Why?

I miss you, doll. I know I messed up. But I can’t fix it until you tell me how.

I’m at the old place.

Oh.

Meet you outside.

Be there in twenty.

-

That was how he ended up sitting beside you in your favorite bar. You and Jason had snuck in once at the age of 19, and since that day, you’d both never stopped coming back. Whether it was on your own or as a pair, it had quickly become a constant in your lives. 

Tonight was like any other night, with the exception of a louder crowd. A large chunk of the bar had gathered to one side to watch the tv, watching some politicians and breaking into arguments. Every now and then, one of them would ring up more drinks. Jason made a silent note to wrap up the conversation before the mob became fully intoxicated. He turned to look at you, you weren’t paying any attention to the other patrons as you swirled your glass of tequila. 

“Hey,” he began. “Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

You nodded. He took it as a sign to continue. 

“I’m glad you’re safe, doll.” He watched the rim of the glass meet your lips. When you remained silent, he decided to risk crossing a line. Shifting in his seat, he inched closer so that your legs brushed against each other lightly. “Hey, look at me, please?”

Finally, you granted him your gaze, half-lidded eyes resting on his face. 

“You look tired.”

He couldn’t help feeling a perk of hope at your first words, he’d missed the sound of your sweet voice in his ears. 

“It’s nothing.” He shrugged it off. He took a deep breath. There would be no progress made if you kept diverting to small talk. “Listen, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I thought about what I could have possibly done wrong. It’s almost been two years, doll. People might think it’s too early, but like I told you, I already knew you were the one for me. Ever since we were–”

You cut him off with a sob. His expression crumpled as he saw your beautiful eyes fill with tears. You reached out to him, hands pressing against his covered bicep. He wondered if you wanted to stop him or steady yourself. Maybe both. 

After a few shaky breaths, you collected yourself for a few sentences. 

“That’s not right. Jason, I should be sorry. And I am. This is the most sorry I could ever be, ever. I never meant–” your voice hitched. “N-never meant for you to get hurt, Jay. I needed to be honest with you and I–”

Tears slid steadily down both your cheeks, and Jason caught them before they could fall. You choked on a whimper, trying to compose yourself enough to carry on your apology. He could feel his heart ache at the sound, and he wanted nothing more than to gather you in his arms and tell you it was going to be alright. But as of now, he needed to respect your courage. 

“--I ran away. God, I don’t know why I did that. And I-I hate myself for it. So much, Jason.”

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, his chest clenching with sympathy for you. 

“I was hurt. I worked so hard to do what I wanted to do, and now that I’m really there, people are asking me when I plan to s-top.” You hiccuped, eyes wide as your words were interrupted.

“You got this,” Jason murmured. 

“T-thanks,” you sniffled. “I wanted to make a difference for all those kids that grew up like us, because no one should ever live like that. I thought by becoming strong, being who I am today, I’d be able to help someone. Anyone. And it hurt to hear people say I wasn’t able. It felt like everyone was against me–like I was losing sight of my goal. And then you proposed–”

He wisely handed you a packet of slightly squashed tissues from his pocket. You thanked him, pulling a chain of them out of the top and blowing your nose. It was turning bright pink from all the rubbing, he noticed. He reminded himself to get you some cream for that later. 

“I know it sounds stupid. And irrelevant. But hearing you ask me to marry you–? It was like hearing it from the other side. A side we were never born on, and one I never imagined we’d be part of. But look at us now–look at you. I don’t know why I took it as such a betrayal.”

You shook your head, and Jason knew the feeling all too well. He’d lost more than a few arguments with Bruce, Dick, and even Alfred when he’d let anger and emotion overtake him. People often forgot the reasoning behind their rage when it grew too great. He knew better than anyone else that that was the case for you here. However, it didn’t take away from the fact that you’d probably been in a bad place as of late. He was at just as much fault as you were. And he was glad that he’d reached out first.

“Doll.”

“Yeah?” You snuffled. He took your face in his hands, cradling your cold, wet cheeks in warm palms. 

“I’m sorry too. I should have tried to understand, instead of just overstepping.”

“You weren’t–”

“But you got hurt.” He fixed you with an earnest look. “Sure, so was I. Rejection’s never easy. Still, I hope you know that I didn’t mean to pin you down.”

Frustration welled in your eyes. Jason noticed. 

“Shh. You don’t have to explain now. I understand. Just let me ask you something?”

You nodded. 

“Will you love me again?”

“I could never stop loving you, Jay,” you breathed, and he kissed you.

You probably shouldn’t be driving.

Tears clouded your vision and you blinked them away furiously, trying to focus on the road and not the desperate emotions driving you to insanity. 

You wanted to open your window and scream into the rain. So you did. 

-

You arrived home with a ticket. It only served to incense you further as you slammed the rickety front door. The stench of abandonment hit your nose as you tried to calm down. You didn’t know why you came to this godforsaken place, it had been almost a year since you left. As silence settled over your anger, familiar sounds began to seep back into recognition. 

The incessant squawking of the upstairs lady and the thumps and yells of your drunk neighbor–who had somehow managed to stay with the rising rent–echoed through the paper-thin walls. When a bottle smashed, you flinched. 

Too damn close.

Being here was debilitating. But there was nowhere else you could go without someone asking questions. Things that you definitely did not want to answer right now. You opened a window as you passed it, then doubled back to close it when the distinctly skunky smell of weed wafted in. 

When you reached your bedroom, everything was dark. You tapped your digital alarm clock, and the face blinked weakly back. Sighing, you left your bag on the floor. Your bed wasn’t something you could trust. 

-

“Marry me?”

“...no.”

Your head tipped back with a groan, your palm was cold over your eyes. 

You’d thought you were prepared for anything, after vaulting through your childhood and putting yourself through the seven circles of hell to get where you were now. You’d ignored all the people who had asked you if you had someone, when you were going to settle down, if you wanted children. You weren’t nearly finished living your life, yet society was still treating you as if you were. 

And the very last person you had expected a proposal from had just gone and done it. 

-

It wasn’t as if you weren’t aware of how fast you’d been forced to grow up. Not many people knew that some of the most successful Gothamites came from the Bowery. They weren’t old money, no, far from it. But they were the hardest workers, the most driven. Thirsty for change and last in line for better lives when they should be further up. You had been a street rat to the very bone, starving and stealing. Luckily, you were never alone in your endeavors. 

And the second you realized that life had dealt you and Jason a losing hand, you’d vowed to turn the tables on fate for the two of you. 

Even in the midst of all your swirling emotion, you still knew that to be true. 

-

Alcohol was such a gamble, you mused. It could calm or ignite the warring in your mind, depending on the day. Tonight, it served to numb your thoughts and shove them down your throat. 

You didn’t want to swallow.

Instead, you choked on your words as you remembered Jason’s face when it fell to pieces. It was so conflicting, tossing the blame of your situation between him and you. It was getting harder to insist to yourself that you were right when you knew that Jason had seen just as much as you had, if not more. You couldn’t, for the life of you, justify your rejection as Jason going soft for the rich life. 

But, you repeated, it had been so easy for Batman to sweep Jason off his feet when you had had to work for years more to brush his shoulders. 

“Look at me getting all worked up,” you mumbled to the stale air. 

Inebriety, you had learned, was never a good state for debate. Especially when you were pitted against yourself.

Maybe I should just go to sleep, you thought. However, it was a struggle as you laid there in the dark, ancient floors digging into your back through the layered blankets. 

You couldn’t help feeling as though this entire situation was a loss. 

-

The next morning, you woke up and immediately wished you were still asleep. Skull-splitting pain lanced through you as you shifted to get up, you could see the wine-stained glass on your bedside stand. Reaching around it, you unplugged your phone and held it away from you as you drew the brightness down to match the still-dark room. 

7 missed calls from Jason.

1 voice message.

You tossed the phone away and whimpered into your pillow.

-

You spent the rest of your morning lounging in the window seat, watching the gray sky weep. The wine glass sat empty and washed on your kitchen counter, and your hair was pinned up as you sipped your water. 

You’d caused an uproar at your job by calling in sick, you had never missed a day of work since you’d started with them. But you ignored their hounding calls just as you’d been trying to ignore Jason’s. 

Your earring glinted in your reflection and you were reminded of the ring between Jason’s fingers, winking up at you. Blinking slowly, you leaned against the cold window frame. You knew you should give it time. But what good was it to know what you should do if you wanted the opposite just as badly?

As the rain beat a soft, steady rhythm against the window, you glanced at your discarded phone. 

-

“Hey, doll. Don’t know if you got my calls. I know you can take care of yourself, I do, but please call me back when you see this. Please be safe. If you’ll let me worry about you, if you’re ok, please respond. I… I love you.”

You try not to let your heart soften as you type out a brief reply to his voice message. 

It’s not too long after you press send that he texts back. 

Hey, doll. 

August was here, and Jason could feel it in every crevice of his body. He was in his car for once, and the sticky leather underneath his thighs felt wholly unfamiliar. The windows were rolled down all the way, but the wind only served to let more hot air into the car. 

There was one thing that deigned to cooperate with him–summer had sent away most of the usual traffic on vacation. Although Gotham experienced unusually nice summers, most citizens chose to spend their few villain-free days elsewhere. The lack of criminal activity was a stroke of luck for him, or at least you. Today was his birthday, and Bruce had invited the two of you to the manor to celebrate later tonight. Something about a gala, unfortunately enough. 

He pulled into the parking lot outside the mall, choosing to wait outside instead of venturing in. You’d know to look for him. A gaggle of teenage girls passed by, some shooting appreciative looks at him. 

It made him a bit uncomfortable, given their ages. But the thought of how you’d react to those girls stealing glances at him, that made him feel unexpectedly giddy. He smiled to himself as he leaned casually against the hood of his car. His hands itched for a cigarette, but he reminded himself that you’d be here soon, and you weren’t as lenient.

“Jay!”

And there you were, appearing as if from nowhere. He took note of the garment bag hanging from your hand, held high so that the bottom stayed well off the ground.

“Let me take that, darling,” he offered, to which you gladly accepted. 

“Thanks, babe. Were you waiting long?”

“Nah, I just got here. How was dress shopping?” 

You grinned and his heart jumped. It was one of your more unpredictable grins, that made it harder to guess if you’d gotten a ball gown or lingerie. 

“Good,” you drawled. “I think you’ll appreciate it.”

He gulped.

-

“You ready yet, doll?” Jason called, knee bouncing under his hand. 

“Almost!” You chirped, and he stills so that he can hear you moving about the bedroom. Soon, all goes quiet except for the gentle click of the door. 

Then, your footsteps hidden among soft rustling. 

He turned to greet you. 

“Wow.” 

“You like?” You teased, swishing the gown playfully. He nodded, dumbstruck as you spun in a tight little circle, letting the skirt flare out from your body like rays of sunlight.  

“I love it.” He finally spoke. “You look so good.”

You didn’t just look good. You looked wonderful, the dress kissing your frame in some places and dipping away to reveal tasteful amounts of skin in others. If Jason squinted, he could almost make out the glow that enveloped you. When he looked up, your cheeks were flushed just the slightest bit and your eyes were sparkling at him. 

“Then let’s go.”

–

The minute Jason stepped into the hall with you, he knew he’d rather be at home. There were a few heads turning; he half expected to see paparazzi there, ready to pounce on any juicy moments shared between the two of you. Oh, there would be plenty, but none for their prying eyes. However, there wasn’t anyone around who looked like they could be a reporter. He wondered if Bruce had something to do with that. 

Though the lack of media attention relieved him, galas were still galas. Jason had never liked them much when he’d been Robin, and nothing had happened to change his opinion to this day. Not even you, which made sense when he considered how you sulked after hours in heels talking to upper-crust ladies.

He saw a few of the other Wayne wards on the dance floor, Dick’s toes were being stepped on and Tim looked like he was about to combust. He smirked, as long as it wasn’t him out there, he’d gladly stay and watch. 

Despite his evil longing to entertain himself, Jason wanted to find Bruce before the night ended. He didn’t know why necessarily, but since the press incident, he’d been looking for a chance to thank him. Maybe even introduce the two of you properly this time. 

But as he scanned the room, there was no familiar figure, no brooding aura. 

Suddenly, he couldn’t help feeling a rush of young emotion, memories of sitting lonely up in his room while Bruce was out on patrol with Dick. You were saying something, but it didn’t reach his ears until you tugged hard on his sleeve.

“Jason,” you murmured. “C’mon.”

He followed you, instinct guiding him after you while his consciousness floated. 

-

Once you had brought him outside the manor, you stopped to look at him. 

“Hey, Jaybird.” You brushed his hair away from his eyes, warm palms cascading against his clammy cheeks. “You okay?”

The upturned point of your questioning tone poked him back to reality. 

“Y-yeah.”

You frowned. 

“No, you’re not.”

He could have made a comment about invalidating his claims. Instead, he slumped onto your shoulder, disappointment draining him. 

“Guess not,” he muttered. 

“You wanna talk? Don’t have to if you’re not feeling it,” you asked, gently stroking his hair. He pressed an ear to your neck, wanting to drown out the echoes of voices drifting from the house. The two of you stood on the steps leading from the back door of the manor, laughter and light trickling from the house. “Hey,” you whispered. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Someplace.”

“Where?” He asked, frustrated. 

You ignored his tone and led him down the garden path to the parking lots. Quickly locating his bike, you hiked up your dress and sat up front. You patted the seat behind you, looking at him expectantly.

“I’m about to take you somewhere very special to me,” you murmured. “So promise me you won’t say anything about it.”

He did.

-

If any cameras had caught the two of you racing home on his bike that night, they would’ve seen the scarlet blaze of his motorcycle helmets and the hem of your gown flying in the wind. 

You would’ve asked them for the shots.

Jason was confused when you parked in the garage of his safe house, and even more so when you took him up, past the door and to the sofa. He watched speechlessly as you set your helmet down, searching the fridge. You only called to him when he tried to sit down.

“Nope. Don’t sit down yet. We have somewhere to be.”

And with that, you led him back out and up to the sky, climbing the fire escape in your slightly worn heels and elegant gown. If there was anything different, it was that you held a bottle, hands over the label. 

“Getting deja vu here, doll.”

You laughed. “So am I.”

“What are we–”

He stopped when you stepped up to the roof before him, waggling your fingers behind your back for him to hold. 

He did.

On the roof of his safe house, there were blankets laid out. Twin glasses waited for the two of you, empty and waiting.

“So, Jaybird. Do you know what we’re doing up here?”

“...drinking?” His response elicited a grin from you.

“Mhm. But you know what else?” You marched over to the blanket with him in tow. Seating yourself primly on the edge, you unfolded another so that it could drape over you and him. Your eyes were shining, but this time with unspoken sadness. “When you died, I asked someone from Wayne Tower to set off fireworks above the Bowery. They did it, on your last birthday.”

You waited for this to sink in. And when realization dawned in his eyes, you smiled.

“Fireworks,” he breathed. “A light draws crowds–”

“--and crowds draw connections.” You finished together. 

“I always loved seeing fireworks when we were little. Remember?”

He opened his mouth. It was then, that in the distance, a little spark went up. Then another, and another. 

I remember…

Jason woke with a ragged gasp, tearing himself from the nightmare. It circled his head once before trotting off into the night. He searched for the source that had aroused him from his slumbers, realizing his communicator had gone off at his bedside.

“H’lo?”

“Littlewing–just got–report–Black Mask has–shipment coming in.” 

He winced at the crackles splitting Dick’s words and popping in his ears, shaking his hair out of his face. Tiny specks of light danced briefly before his eyes as he rolled out of bed, clicking the comm into his ear where it sat snugly. Gooseflesh erupted across his naked torso as he grabbed his helmet.

“When’s it comin’?” 

“Now!”

Well, that was one way to get him going.

-

Soon, Jason was watching Black Mask’s men slip from warehouse to ship, working in tandem to unload the illegal cargo. He could see crates being carried from the boat and experienced an unwelcome flashback to his dream. 

Catherine Todd, lying rigid in the bathroom of a dying house. White all around them as Jason cried and life came crashing down around him.

He growled, trying to push away the memory. Because one thing usually led to others, and he had so many dominoes waiting to fall. 

“Yeah, not gonna happen,” he breathed, robotic tinge creeping into his tone. 

He glared at the shadowy Gotham docks, watching the first crate coming closer and closer. And waited for the warehouse doors to betray their signature dragging creaks. 

Screech.

On cue, he vaulted over the edge of the roof, guns out and blazing. The first clip sank into the crates at the front, the shouts of men lifting his cover. He heard more footsteps echoing from the depths of the warehouse and slammed the doors back shut. They would be open again in a matter of seconds, but that was all he needed.

“Let’s get to it, boys.”

Shots rang out, the steady ratatatata of a clip quickly being overridden by the next like ocean waves crashing over one another. Crates fell and smashed, torn plastic and white powder peeking out from between splintered wooden slats. 

Jason ducked as a crate was thrown at his head, and it flew over him, crashing into the poor goon that had opened the doors. He went down, and more men streamed out around him, trying to surround Jason. Never one to back into corners, he retaliated by charging them point blank range. He continued pumping the trigger without hesitation, rubber bullets wouldn’t kill any of these men anytime soon. Not in his hands, at least. 

But they still served a purpose in subjugating these lowlifes, he mused. Delivering a final pistol-whip to the last man standing, he stepped over their unconscious forms to bag evidence. 

He toed at a crate with its side busted open, and shot it open for good measure as he crouched down to better observe the contents.

“Why’s it always cocaine, huh?” He muttered, tugging the plastic away to take a sample. Making sure not to leave a single grain clinging to his gloves. His head began to pulse dully the longer he stared at the substance. Jason scoffed and left the warehouse, trundling out towards the pier. His comm buzzed back to life as he tuned into Dick’s frequency.

“Hey, Littlewing.” Nightwing’s voice greeted him, the sound quality running much more smoothly than it had previously. “How’d the drug bust go?”

“Got it covered, Dickhead,” he grunted back.

“Aw, look who’s being grumpy. Is it because she’s not back yet?”

“Eh.”

“Hood, she just left yesterday. Gotham’s villains are in for a tough week if you’re already this mopey,” Dick teased. Then he wisely added, “Why don’t you call her?” before Jason could snap at him.

“I will,” Jason grumbled. He shot one last bullet, sending cocaine exploding across the concrete. Then he turned and grappled up.

-

Click.

“Hello?” 

Jason released a silent groan at your lovely voice, soft and undone. It must be late for you as well. He was on the roof again, well out of sight from anyone walking below. His mask was the only thing that covered his face, helmet resting in the space between his crossed legs. 

“Did I wake you, princess?” He asked quietly. 

“No, I was just about to go to bed. What’s up?” 

He hesitated, not wanting to burden you after your flight. You always complained about jet lag, though it was something he’d been hearing less of after Bruce had started letting you borrow his aircrafts.

“Nothin’ much. Just wanted to hear your voice,” he sighed. The glare of a lone streetlight shone on the drug-strewn ground below his dangling feet. The police would be here soon, but he wanted this post-patrol silence to last him a few more moments with you. “How was your flight?”

“It wasn’t great, but you know how it is. I still wish you were with me, though.” Your words made him want to curl into the phone, anything to hold you after a night of physical and mental exertion. 

“You should come back early,” he suggested, momentarily forgetting that you’d only just left the day before. He couldn’t help it–time spent apart from you felt elongated by nights spent in your absence.

“As much as I want to, I can’t, Jay.” He could almost hear your sad smile over the phone. “But I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Bring me something?”

“Is that all you were after?” You gasped in mock affontation. “Maybe I’ll have to extend the trip–”

“Please don’t,” Jason said hurriedly. You’d never spent so much time apart before, your rekindled relationship only having lasted a few months now. But it felt like there were eternal gaps in the timeline, and Jason couldn’t help but feel an ache in the spaces when you weren’t together. 

“What did you get up to tonight?” You asked, and he pulled out of his longing to answer. 

“Drug bust. Roman thought it was a good night for it, apparently.”

“You must be tired,” you replied sweetly. “Get some rest, Jay. For me.”

“Only if you do, too,” he insisted stubbornly. You rewarded him with a soft laugh, the sound tickling his ears.

“I will. Sleep well, my love.”

Yellow hallway light pours onto the living room floor as you and Jason drag each other through the door of his safehouse. Your exhausted laugh is simultaneous to the not-so-subtle click of the lock, but it’s all Jason hears as he follows you to the bathroom. 

Even after the long day of socializing and agonizing under dress codes, you still have your trademark competitive spark burning and beat him to the shower. He thuds onto the door with a low groan, and hears your triumphant ‘hm!’ through the wood. 

“Baby,” he whines. “Lemme in.”

“Don’t think I will, Todd.” Your voice is tired but teasing, something that you will never tire of doing to him. Well, you seem to have forgotten that he is just as capable. 

“‘M coming in,” he calls out, and purposefully ignoring your grunt of protest, has the door unlocked in seconds flat. 

He’s caught you in a state of undress, your bare feet on white tile and shirt halfway over your head. Your trousers are lying carelessly in a corner, and the button that’s kept you from breathing all night winks at him. 

“I thought I told you to wait,” you grumble, and he manages a smirk at the lack of heat in your voice. 

“And I thought you’d be so kind to bless me with your presence for these last few hours, but I guess not,” he replies. The door shuts with a light kick of his foot and his clothes begin to join yours on the floor. You hum distractedly as you finish unclasping, undoing, and unfastening. Several pins clatter to the marble countertop as you draw your hands through your hair, gathering the tiny metal clips.

“It won’t kill you to let me shower alone for fifteen minutes, Jay.” You reach behind the shower curtain and turn on the tap. “But since you’re here, we might as well take a bath.”

“We?” He quirks an eyebrow at you, frustratingly handsome with that self-satisfied smirk adorning his lips.

“Fine, I fold,” you lament, scarlet coloring your cheeks as you rummage through the cabinet. Trying to hide your blush by busying your hands. He only chuckles in response. In your haste, you grab a mislabeled bottle and dump a hearty portion of it in the water. Neither of you notice the sticker that says Lian’s bubble bath until the water begins to froth.

“Uh, babe–”

“Oh my god,” you gasp, finally realizing what the substance was. But it’s too late, the last of the pooling pink liquid is hidden from view by rose-pink bubbles. The both of you stare listlessly at the tub. Then at each other.

“So… that just happened.”

“I guess it did,” you mumble. “Well, no point in drawing another.” 

And with that, you plunge a leg into the foaming bath, the other joining it when you decide the temperature is sufficient to soak in. Jason follows, his added mass raising the water level past your collarbone. 

“This isn’t half bad. What’s not to like?” He seems content, even daring to scoop a handful of the bubbles onto your head. Water leaks down your face and the foam settles in your hair like a crown. This time, you raise your brows at him, as if to say, Really?

He only smiles innocently and leans over to kiss you.

—

You purr like a cat, the picture of well-earned comfort stretched out across the sofa. Jason smiles up at you from where he’s sitting on the carpet, your damp hair in one hand and blow dryer in the other. Sometimes you’ll do this, pull a few strings, give him petulant smiles until he relents and pampers you. And he complies every time. 

“I’m feeling drinks,” you murmur when the whirring of the dryer dies down. 

“Yeah? Lemme see what we have.” Jason gets to his feet, setting the dryer on the coffee table before going to scrounge in the minifridge. “Up for some Lamoresca?”

“Don’t tell me it’s rosato–”

“Right in one, princess,” he praises and your head falls back onto the cushions.

“Give it here,” you relent. Jason passes you the bottle and resumes his seat on the floor. You swing your legs over the sofa so that you can sit upright. Uncorking it, you take a quick swig of it before handing it to him. The two of you trade the wine back and forth, taking turns sipping straight from the bottle. 

At some point he brings you close and steals the rosé from your lips. You know what you’re about to encounter, and you really shouldn’t. You leave tomorrow on a business trip and it would be inappropriate to show up marked down.

But Jason’s never been content with just toeing the line, and you’ve welcomed him across a few of yours. So you indulge, climbing down from your seat into his lap. It’s purely misfortune when you stumble over your own feet, and your messy landing causes Jason to grunt in surprise. 

“Oh–sorry–”

“‘S fine, doll,” he replies, his voice all ragged edges and lusty tone as he gazes at you. It’s slow, painfully so as he bows his head towards your neck. Your head bobs slightly as you debate whether or not to give him access, but then his breath ghosts into the groove beyond your collarbone and you give in. 

“I really ought to stop saying yes to you all the damn time,” you huff as he plants soft kisses along the column of your neck.

“But doll, you’ll be so far away by tomorrow. Let me love you?” He asks, knotting his fingers in the hair at the base of your skull. You shiver, chin rising involuntarily as your head tips back.

“...fine.”

He kisses your lips, finally, and you hum, the touch resolving an unexpected anticipation. 

“You look like you have lipstick on,” you giggle. 

“Speaking of, you’ll have some on tomorrow, yeah? Y’know, that one color I like on you?” He licks the remnants of wine from his lips before brushing his nose against yours. “What’s it called again?”

“It’s maroon, Jay.”

“Baby… come back to bed,” you groan, massaging your shoulder. A whine escapes your lips when your fingers find an especially sore spot, a small divot that Jason left behind.

“Comin’,” he calls back, chuckling under his breath at your petulant noises.

“Come faster,” you mumble, and as if on cue, Jason steps back into the bedroom, a pretty picture to behold.

Your eyes beckon him, drawing him back into your embrace. He crawls on his knees like a sinner, dragging across cotton sheets to return to you. You welcome him with a kiss, sparing no inch of his skin as you spread love on his face. 

“Miss me that much, sweetheart?”

The next kiss shuts him up, you felt inexplicably needy tonight and he was so close.

He was home.

-

The next day, you and Jason are out in Gotham for the first time in weeks. As much as you enjoy being his pillow princess, you’re also tired of being cooped up. So with you on his arm, Jason navigates the streets of the old city. It’s such a strange feeling, concrete earth beneath his feet instead of bottomless sky. The wind doesn’t rush past his body, it only ripples with the presence of busy Gothamites swirling through the cityscape.

Even the air smells different on the ground, a chaotic concoction of coffee, iron and mixed fragrances. It’s dizzying, and he’s glad to be anchored to you. Unfortunately, your intoxicating spirit only emphasizes his distance from reality. His senses don’t catch the industrial eyes snapping silently in your direction, capturing the link between him and you.

- 

When the two of you return home, you promptly fall onto the couch–and into his arms. Naturally curling into his larger form, you press your cheek to his chest and breathe, soft and steadying.

The tv comes to life under his fingertip, and he’s just about to return your little displays of affection when the bright headlines catch his eye.

But it’s not just the words flashing across the screen–it’s the picture of you, eyes smiling up at him and hand on his arm. 

His silence brings your attention to the shot as well, a disbelieving scoff emitting from you as you take in the situation. 

Could This Be Spelling Another Marriage For The Waynes?

-

Against his will, Jason finds himself at Wayne manor for Friday night dinner. You’re seated on his right and Bruce is across from the both of you, slowly cutting into his steak. He can’t help but feel scrutinized under the detective’s gaze, seeds of defiance squirming under his skin. You seem to be unfazed, or maybe you’re just ignoring the Bat-stare that drills into Jason’s head.

“So,” Bruce puts down his utensils first. “I take it the–ahem–news isn’t true?”

“Of course not,” Jason scoffs. “We’ve barely been back together three months and it just had to be dry season for the nosy twerps over at Gotham Gazette.”

“I see.” 

You’ve said nothing, but he can see your abandoned fork out the corner of his eye.

“If I may.”

And here you go.

“Jason and I… we didn’t mean to come out to you like this.” You search Bruce’s eyes for understanding, and you must see something in his impermeable stare, because you continue, unwavering. “I’m sorry if you’re disappointed. What I’m not sorry for is the paparazzi putting words in our mouths when we’ve never even given an interview. I mean, this whole story is ridiculous.”

Jason silently agrees, hoping that Bruce is sensible tonight and sees the merit in your judgement.

-

“Well, he did it.”

Jason watches your bleary eyes flutter at him in confusion. Turning down the brightness on his phone, he brushes his lips across your lashes. 

“The article’s been resolved. B put in a counterstatement after dinner yesterday.”

“Good,” you yawn. “Can we go back to sleep now?”

“Mhm,” he murmurs back. But even as his head settles back onto the pillow, he’s not ready to part with the subject quite yet. “Hey, you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask, sounding a bit more awake now. 

“I don’t know. That was the first real time I’ve made headlines, and it was… weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Just made me uncomfortable, you know? ‘S been quiet since I came back. Guess I just thought we could lay low and still be connected to all this Wayne heir shit.”

You roll to face him, grabbing the sheets to prevent them from pinning under you. 

“Jason.”

“Yeah?”

“Let them talk.”

He sighs and nudges your forehead with his own.

“I should.”

“Mhm,” you reply. “Just ignore them, love. If they bother you so much, just focus on me. On us.” When he still seems uncertain, you nip his lower lip.

“Ow,” he complains, although his eyes shine at you through the hazy darkness.

“Jason Todd. Do you know what I did before dinner yesterday?”

“Me?”

You glare and he smirks.

“Other than that,” you admonish. “I read the article.”

The corners of his mouth return to degrees of concern.

“And?” He knows you know he’s read it too. How could he not?

“I think they’re just bored, archaic gossips. Sure, we both know they’re wrong. But I want to tell you that I don’t care what they think. And neither should you.”

It feels like a dismissal on your part, and the theory itches at his brain. He doesn’t let it continue. 

“I’m perfectly happy where we are. If you felt pressure to… I don’t know. Make this into something more, just because of some paparazzi, you shouldn’t. I trust where we’re at right now. Do you?”

He releases one last breath. This time, you feel the relieved warmth of it graze the bridge of your nose.