Having got little sleep last night, I wake up still tired. Screw Jason and his nightly activities.

After a few minutes of trying to get back to sleep, I become bored and sit up. I glance at the Great Gatsby on the pillow next to me. Even that sounds boring.

I throw the covers off before making the bed, then pick my clothes for today. I have them folded on the desk since there's only a wardrobe in here. This time my shirt is white with a plaid love heart on the front. I also grab underwear and one of the pairs of black leggings.

No one is up yet; thank the Goddess. I take a quick shower and get dressed. At least it doesn't take me forever like my usual clothes would. The moment I look at myself in the mirror, I see my sixteen year old self.

Without makeup and dressed down, I don't look like myself. Or it might be more correct to say I look like the 'real me'.

As I brush my hair, I notice something I haven't experienced in a long time. I bring my hand up to my face and find it shaking, my fingers quivering.

38 hours without a drink and here I am, already in the beginnings of delirium tremens.

When I walk back out into the living room, there's a pretty girl with short blonde hair in the kitchen, wearing Jason's shirt.

"Oh hi! You must be Jason's sister," she chirps. Fuck him.

"Yes," I smile gracefully.

"He's such a doll," she grins, her eyes pretty much shining.

"If you say so."

I turn the kettle on.

"Are you the oldest?" She asks, getting a cup out from the cupboard over her head. She knew they were in there. She's been here before.

"Yes, by a few years." Well, that's not a lie.

I take a cup from the same cupboard and place it on the counter.

"I'm Myra by the way!" I don't know what to say to that. My name is so well known...

"Nice to meet you."

There is a jingle of keys as Jason walks into the living room.

"Where would you like to be dropped off?" He asks.

She shakes her head with that same smile, "Let me get dressed and I'll be out of your hair. My train leaves at 9, station isn't far away."

I glance at the clock, "It's 8:45."

She follows my line of sight and gasps dramatically, "Oh my god!"

As she runs back to his room she rips his shirt off and tosses it to him. It hits his head full force and I can't help but snort.

"The owner of that kimono, I assume?"

"Yeah," he answers, pulling his own shirt off his face.

I retrieve the girl's jacket from my room and throw it to her when she comes out in a right dress, dragging a suitcase behind her.

She looks at Jason with a giant smile and starts having a whispered conversation with him. I listen closely while I make my tea.

"I could never make up for it," she tells him, sounding extremely appreciative, "You'll never understand how grateful I am. Thanks to you I'll never have to do it again."

Sounds like he's helped her get out of the life.

She kisses his cheek. The whole time Jason remains blank-faced. It'd probably be different if they were alone.

"It was nice to meet you!" She bounces around to face me, then again to the front door. She takes a deep breath, then marches on and out to a new life. Good luck to her, I suppose.

Once she's gone, he turns around and heads back into his room.

"Thanks for the lullaby last night," I say sarcastically.

I walk over to the lounge and switch on the small TV. The news is on, showing Superman taking down some big bad. It launches into the gossip of today. I'm about to turn it off, but a certain image comes up on screen that nearly makes me drop my tea.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," I mutter. Jason wanders back out. Jessica appears on screen, the top left corner of her set displaying a photo of Jason and I.

Just after we had left her in the lift back at my office, she must have snapped a photo. His hand is on the small of my back, leading me out of the building.

"Just friends of future fiancés? Let me know using the hashtag Juicefromjess! Until next time!"

I shut the TV off.

Both of us wallow in silence for a minute, before I stand up and walk back into the room. I put the book on my desk and curl up in bed.

Maybe now I'll get some sleep.

◊

◊

Jason knocks softly on her door. Venus doesn't answer, so he opens it carefully to find her sleeping peacefully in her bed. His copy of the Great Gatsby catches his eye, lying on the desk in the corner. It makes him smile.

For some reason he thought she'd be more of a Dickens girl. How silly, of course she'd love a book detailing the futility of the American Dream. They live such a story every day.

He closes the door and heads back to his room, enacting his previous invasive plan anyway.

Looking through his contacts, he finds the number of an old informant who lives in Lightway city, Gyro.

He texts; "2 x Full B&H. DA Venus Meadow. Det. Ginger Meadow. Deposit when confirmed."

Guilt quickly bubbles up in his gut. How else is he supposed to know what Bruce isn't telling them about her? There's something not right.

He's seen plenty of District Attorneys come and go. Harvey Dent is the only one that really stands out for obvious Two-Faced reasons. None of the others are memorable, but he knows not one would willingly face down Killer Croc in the street with nothing but a gun. He doubts many of them had ever even held a gun, let alone fire with the precision of a trooper.

In her public portfolio she claims to have been born in Lightway City to middle-class parents who owned a small cafe. They died early on in a car accident so she and her older sister Ginger made the move to Gotham to live with their semi-wealthy Grandmother, whose death and subsequent inheritance put Ginger into the Police Academy and Venus into Law school.

Everyone brought up their suspicions with Batman. Who taught her to fight? To shoot? To analyse everything in such an intense and correct way it's creepy? Her cafe-owning parents?

Then he divulged some details; she actually came to Gotham much more recently, but grew up surrounded by crime and learnt to survive the hard way early on.

But it still doesn't fit. It's too...vague.

His phone suddenly chimes in his hand. A response from Gyro.

"2 x $10,000 Deposits. ETA tomorrow morning, hand delivery in Gotham, one hour text will be sent in advance with location and time."

The guilt officially overcomes him. Jason leaves the apartment and locks the door behind him, setting up the security defenses. He jogs down the stairs going over the list of things he needs to get in his head.

Further and further down the street he goes until he reaches the little grocer on the corner. He proceeds to grab every vegetable he sees. Luckily, he likes to cook, so he can guess what she likes and knows what tastes good with what.

He pays for two full boxes of vegan food and hauls it back to the apartment. He's not going to get back in anyone's good books if he starves the woman he's supposed to be protecting to death.

Venus is awake now, sitting on the lounge reading once again. She shifts uncomfortably when he looks at the book in her hands, like she didn't want to get caught reading.

"What's wrong with the thermostat?" She asks, standing up and rounding the couch. She's wearing the cotton shorts from the previous night and a singlet now, "It's hot."

Jason's eyes linger on her legs a little too long as she comes towards him.

"Not to give in to cliches but, my eyes are up here."

Snapping out of his reverie, Jason throws a disgruntled look at her.

"I was just thinking," he mutters, dumping the boxes on the counter.

"Yeah, about my legs," she whispers to herself. Jason feels his face heat up at the way she's teasing him. He stomps off to his room, fixing the thermostat on the way. "Are you going to put those away?"

"They're yours. You put them away," he responds before slamming his door shut.

◊

Venus' POV

◊

I frown at his bedroom door.

Mine?

I check my handbag. My cards are still there. What classifies these groceries as mine?

Dragging the first box towards me, I search through it, pulling out green beans, broccoli, tomatoes, capsicum, chilies... He's done a vegan shop.

I find myself unconsciously smiling at this. How...nice of him.

For the rest of the afternoon, he makes no appearance. For all I know he isn't even here. Probably out on a Red Hood escapade somewhere where it's actually night time.

With nothing to do, tired of reading and all my work either obsolete or dead boring, I watch TV. Lucky for me it's reruns of The Big Bang Theory. There are worse ways to spend a Monday; few better.

It gets dark and cold pretty quickly outside, which I only discover after opening the window because around 7pm, there's a small explosion in the distance. -About one hundred yards away, a building has gone up in flames, I assume after exploding. People on the street below seem unfazed.

Has this city become the used to such things?

Just as the thought crosses my mind, there is a loud thump, followed by a crash from Jason's room. Seeing as it had been pretty silent up until that point, I take my gun in hand and aim it at the door.

I nearly fire when it opens, but see Jason just before my instincts get the better of me.

"Did you do that?" I ask, pointing the gun at the window.

"One of my previous apartments," he nods, then observes what's in my hand. "Did it scare you?" He smirks.

I scoff, "Please. I know Bruce told you how I grew up. Back in Lightway we used to blow up buildings for fun," I turn the safety back on, "Nothing like seeing something so neat turn to shit with the press of a button."

He looks surprised by my honesty, helmet now off while he cleans his hands and weapons of ash.

"Bats liked to blow things up too," he admits.

I laugh, "I remember my first. Meth lab down the street. I was eight."

"Eight?" He repeats, "How did you even-" He can't quite finish the sentence, gesturing with his hands.

My smile halves and I pull my feet up onto the couch, "My eldest brother took Ginger and I with us. We set our-" I almost say nanny, but as far as he knows I had a particularly underprivileged upbringing, "babysitter's hair on fire, so she quit. There was no one to watch us so he had to take us with him. The meth was becoming a problem at school, so he dealt with it. He used to protect the community like that."

Jason doesn't reply for a few seconds. I feel almost stupid for reminiscing.

"Used to?" He ventures cautiously.

I look at him and nod slowly, "He's not dead," I smile, "He just...walked out on us a long time ago."

I wait for some witty remark, but instead, I get a small, "Sorry."

My mouth forms a tight line as I shrug, "All in the past. The suburbs weren't unprotected for long. Eventually Duchess and Ranger came about. " The name of Lightway's most renowned anti-heroes spreads goosebumps across my skin.

Jason sits at the end of the couch from me. He holds something out to me. My eyes adjust and I realise it's a beer.

"Noticed your DTs this morning," he explains, gesturing to my shaking hand.

"Oh, thanks," I mumble, taking it sheepishly. I hate beer but it's better than nothing.

"You've got a tattoo?" He asks. My eyes dart over my shoulder. You can see just a little bit on it over my top.

"Got it when I was sixteen."

He sips his beer for boldness, "What is it?"

I smirk, "maybe I'll let you see it one day."

He watches with interest as I pull my singlet up, exposing the left side of my ribs where my fir tattoo is.

"This one was my first."

"What does it say?"

"Life is pain," I watch him for a moment, observant of any reaction, "I was fourteen and thought I was sooo cool."

I glance away from his chuckle and pull my top back down. Then I hold up my left arm and show him my wrist.

"This one's a bit depressing. It's a list of...well, of people I've lost over the years. Caeden and Drew were my other brothers. Lilah was my best cousin, Angelique's little sister. The fourth name is Brooklyn, who I grew up with in Lightway City. Last is Hiroshi...another friend."

The tattoo is barely visible; it's a light grey, almost white. Their names are written very small as well.

"You want to be reminded of them?" He asks quietly.

"Being reminded of their deaths helps me remember why I do the things I do. All of those death were due to gang violence. It hurts to think about them, but," I point to my ribs, "Life is pain."

He looks fixated at my wrist, thinking deeply.

I look away and take another sip, "Anyway. Do you have any?"

"No. I've never really had the time..."

I turn my head to the side, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Jason..." I begin. He looks at me. "Were you really-" I stop before I can do it. It's too much, too soon. "You know what? Never mind. Forget I said anything."

Clearly he doesn't like the suspense, so I bail out before he can protest.

"Thank you," I tell him, standing up, "For the groceries, I mean. And the beer. I've just had a thought about a case so I better write it down."

I try not to look like I'm evading him as I head back to my room.

"You can ask me," he calls out, sounding leveled, like he was expecting that exact question.

Were you really kidnapped by the Joker?

I stop at the door and turn around, considering it. Any trace of strength or laughter is gone from his face. His eyes look sad, or haunted even. Reading him I can tell it's a topic he either doesn't talk about, or talks about in a comedic sense to avoid real emotion.

"Another time," I tell him, giving him the warmest smile I can. He gives me one back and nods. I open the door and slip inside.

That's probably the longest we have gone without a fight. One might even say that I have formed a liking for this asshole.