I am subtlety woken by an arm slipping out from underneath my head.

For a vigilante and someone known to be promiscuous, he isn't very good at sneaking out of bed.

In the dark I don't see much, just the slightest of my own scratch marks down his back in the sliver of moonlight from the curtains. I hear him slide that suitcase from the other night out from under the bed. The one containing his spandex and armour uniform.

There is a serious urge in me to tell him. I won't just say it straight out, I know you're Nightwing, but in some way more poetic.

I bet I could tease him with it. 

Catch the bad guy? Talking about a business deal instead of what he will panic about. I found your uniform, then I'll pull out his Gotham Academy blazer. 

Since when do I make jokes?

Instead I lie there listening to the sound of him softly packing his bag, getting ready to leave again. I wonder if he will come back to Paris, or if this was the end of our Honeymoon? Perhaps the next time I see him we will be standing in our Gotham apartment?

My eyes snap closed even though he is not be able to see them open, when he leans over me from his side of the bed. 

He whispers something but I don't know what. I feel him pat my head- an odd gesture I might add -before his weight is lifted from the bed and the soft click of the door is all that is left in his wake.

I lie there until the room gets a little brighter from a rising sun. I shut my eyes and fall back asleep.

The next thing to wake me is the buzz and ding! of my mobile beneath my pillow. I move to unbuckle the leather braces around my wrists- and then I remember.

I'm not wearing them. 

How would I explain that? I'm pretty sure he just assumed they were a pair of belts I keep resting on the bedside table, rather than things I wear to stop me from hurting myself.

Yet, that is not why I was not wearing them.

It seems I...forgot about the nightmares.

Shaking the thought away, I open my phone to a text from him.

'Sorry, had to head out again. Didn't want to wake you. I'll be back in a few days, promise! :)' 

There are only a few days left in this Honeymoon. I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't come back here and I leave Paris on my own.

When I shower my mind returns to the earlier revelation. When he is there the nightmares are not. At least, not that I remember.

Even worse, this time there was no alcohol involved. Just that moment we had under the water at the floor of the pool. His smile and the way his hair fanned out behind him. His speed in the water nearly matched mine.

And that kiss- what kiss can compare to that? Bursting from the water in the thick of it with burning lungs, still holding onto each other?

"Shut up!" I snap at myself, throwing my head back to stare at the ceiling. 

I'm slipping fast.

◊

◊

"You get it," Reflection says lazily, waving her hand.

"No," her twin Shade grunts back, "You."

"Guys!" Igniter complains, staring at the robbery taking place below, "If I do it I'll burn the place down."

"If that's your logic then why are you even here?" Reflection counters. She twists herself around on the ledge the five heroes are resting on.

Jetstream and Echo share a look, rolling their identical eyes before diving down to the street; Jetstream, flying, Echo, landing with a ghastly crunch as the pavement caves in around her feet.

"Yo, let's wrap this up," Echo announces as she steps into the shop with her brother behind her. All three perps bagging jewels look up in, frozen in their act at facing two of the Sunset Six. Fear overcomes the closest and he raises his gun, firing it straight away.

Echo ducks in an instant and the bullet sails straight toward Jetstream, whose density shift allowing the bullet to pass through him, out the door and across the street to embed itself into a brick wall.

"Really?" They chime together, before both moving forward. Echo slides under the closest table, heading straight for the initial attacker. She kicks his feet out from underneath him, turning on her hands to follow through with another kick to the head.

A flying Jetstream crashes his fists into the chest of the first man, sending the thief over the counter and into a set of glass cabinets. 

Both vigilantes turn to the last robber, who drops to his knees with a clear plea in his slitted eyes.

A crunch of glass from the front door and that look changes, however, to one of enchantment. The two roll their eyes again as an unannounced sixth vigilante steps in, all suave and flawless.

"Don't take his soul, F-...Beauty," Echo pleads. 

Beauty scoffs as she steps past her younger siblings, "I just want a little bit."

The frozen man remains as such when Beauty leans down, pressing a kiss to his trembling lips as she begins sucking some of his life force from him.

Jetstream and Echo watch silently, waiting until their sister has drained just over a quarter from him before stepping back.

"Nothing like the taste of fear," she says primly as he falls forward, placing a hand on her hip. At the distant sound of sirens, they back out of the store. Jetstream flies back to the perch with Echo jumping behind him.

"Beauty's here," they chime together, making Reflection, Shade and Igniter peer down into the street where Beauty is waiting.

She stares up at them, "Ethan wants to see us."

In Sunset City most people are asleep or at the beach at night.

Not Ethan Perich; Ethan Perich is rocking back and forth in his chair, watching the work his sister has completed in Paris file into the company.

"Do you think she'll fall in love with him?" Demitri questions, irking the working man to no end. The more 'loose' of the two is lurking around the office, pushing the things on Ethan's shelves an inch to the left to annoy him.

"Cleo's not like that," he responds, waving the proposition off.

One of the office's many windows slide open, "What do you want?" Reflection demands when she appears, climbing through the windy opening of his skyscraper floor. She removes her mask revealing Hallow Perich.

Ethan merely gestures for her to come closer, which she has to, because Shade gives her a harsh kick and climbs in after her. Gordon Perich sidles up beside his sister passively. Igniter, Echo and Jetstream are next, but soon they become Ignatier, Klover and Jeremy Perich. 

Beauty enters from the office door, removing her hat to reveal Fantasia Perich. 

All are present except for Logan and Cleo.

"We should all be proud of our sister," Ethan says, turning his computer around to reveal ascending stock in Perich Inc.. 

"That's why we're here? For business stuff?" Klover complains.

"Hey," Fantasia snaps, "If the company goes down we go with it. No more mansion, no more maids, no more tennis club. We'll have to move to the condo in Vanuatu. Do you want that? Do you want to live in Vanuatu with slow wifi and no city?"

The idea seems to terrify Klover, whose eyes snap to Ethan, panicked, "Is the company okay now!?"

He nods, "Cleo's taking backburner companies from Wayne enterprises and putting-"

"Blah blah blah, we're not going to understand any of that," Demitri interrupts, earning himself a glare as he knocks over a paperweight on the desk, "Just break the news; are the rest of us going to have to marry or not?"

Originally, that had been Alan Perich's plan. He had hoped to wed Fantasia to Lex Luthor, had hoped to wed Ignatier or Klover to Damian Wayne. He even had plans to marry Logan off when the eleven year old became able.

"This was dad's long term plan..." Ethan trails off, "but whatever Cleo is working on with the Waynes has, well, saved us."

A stunning revelation. None of the children had contemplated their freedom to marry until it was threatened to be taken away from them. The sets of twins high-five, with Fantasia patting Ignatier's head.

"Great! Then I've got a date," Demitri grins, jumping to his feet.

"It's 4am," Gordon frowns.

"She is a lady of the night," the older responds incredulously. 

"A prostitute?"

"Of course not, shut up."

The children whoop and holler as they leave. Ethan watches them go with a smile. He hopes Cleo is getting as much out of this arrangement as they are.

◊

◊

"What a prick!"

"I did not think you would be so...cut up." 

"Shut up Mai," I snap, searching through the hotel for anything I might have left behind. "I can see the headlines already; 'Marriage already done? Perich leaves Paris alone'. If the investors get even the slightest hint that this is a sham, or that we're ending it soon, the stocks go down. He promised he'd be back."

I hear her rolling her eyes behind me, "Did he pinky swear too?"

Son of a-

The knock on the door saves Mai's life.

"Come in," I answer as I try to burn her face with a red hot glare.

"Mrs Grayson," the butler enters, "I am here to escort you and Mr Grayson-"

"My husband has left already. He had urgent business back in Gotham," I smile tightly as I drag myself up from the living-room floor.

The middle-aged man merely nods, "Of course, madame. May I take your bags to the limousine?"

"Of course."

I don't stay to watch him pick my stuff up. Instead I shove past Mai to head back into the bedroom where my last carry-on is. I reach for the small bag on the bedside table that contains a few pieces of jewellery.

As I lift it, it knocks something out from underneath that slips off onto the floor, rolling under the bed.

Grunting with the effort, I get on my knees and lean down to see a thick gold band ring lying there.

His wedding ring. 

"Dumbass," I whisper, reaching over and snatching it up. 

It's gigantic compared to mine because his hand is that much bigger. I can't believe he left it here. What if I didn't see and the maids found it, knowing I left alone? What if they spread the rumour to some French gossip rag? 

"Ready to go?" Mai calls out.

"Yeah."

I pocket the jewellery and take my carry on in hand. As I walk back through the hotel living room, I can't help but glance outside to the pool, remembering that moment we had for the fraction of a second.

Though we take the private exit, there are still camera flashes from the gaps in the fences. Great; they know I'm leaving without him. In the limo Mai is already monitoring the latest gossip sites, just waiting for my name to become a top keyword. 

I wonder where he is? Is he in Gotham, fighting, or in Blüdhaven? 

As Paris passes by, I realise how much of this city we missed. We didn't go to the Eiffel Tower, we didn't dine anywhere fancy, we didn't go and see my aunt, we didn't go to Disneyland.

We did nothing.

On the plane, Mai tries to press this.

"There are no pictures of the two of you going out," she says during the take off. I roll my eyes and hike my knees up onto the seat.

"Let them say what they want. Let them say that we stayed in the hotel the whole time. What's it going to do? As soon as we're living in the same damn apartment that should be it."

She gives me a doubtful look because she knows I'm in denial. We didn't go out at all and everyone is going to find that suspicious.

"Maybe you could convey that you spent the whole two weeks in bed together," she suggests.

I scoff into my champagne glass, "Not the whole two weeks."

They're out of my mouth before I realise the weight of those words. Mai slowly raises frowning eyes above her tablet to stare at me. I glance away and pretend to be oblivious.

"You two...You had sex with him?"

"Why say it?" I complain, shaking my head and standing up to get another bottle of champagne from the ice bucket.

"How many times?" She gawks, throwing her tablet aside and leaning forward on her knees.

"A few. Stop talking about it."

As my medical companion she is probably expected to investigate. She probably wants to talk about the fact that I hadn't been with anyone since Jack died and the effect it might have on my stability.

Instead, surprisingly, she lets it go, picking up her tablet with reluctance.

"First one's out," she notes, staring at the screen.

"Oh yeah?" I sit back down.

"Cleo leaves Paris alone; trouble in paradise already?"

I down the champagne in one go as I pull out my phone. 

One picture left.

I had not intended on sharing this with anyone, because I quite like it. A selfie we took just before he left that first time. He had managed to genuinely make me laugh and it looks real, his chin leaning against my head, both of us smiling brightly.

This one I wanted just for me.

"Thanks Paris! Love heart emoji," I recite sarcastically, attaching the image to an Instagram post and sending it out. This should cut those down a little bit.

I sigh and throw my phone over my shoulder like salt. If he was here and left with me I would not have to deal with these embarrassing rumours.

Mai stares, and stares and stares.

"What?" I complain, again beginning to drown myself.

She snorts, "You're in too deep."