Rich Man's Son

by mrsdarlingskiss

Summary:

Gotham is rough enough without growing up just inside the bounds of the worst neighborhood of the city. It got easier as Red Hood locked down most of the gangs of crime alley, limited the flow of drugs, and stopped protection racket payments for Isolde Zervas' family's business. It allowed just enough breathing room for them to run a bodega that expanded to include her mother's baking. With all the pressure an eldest daughter of first generation Americans carries, is it any wonder she might use her bus commutes and nights tucked safely away from the streets to indulge in writing fan fiction based on the gray hero whose actions allowed her to even set a goal of attending Gotham University, let alone making dean's list for the first two years.

She only wonders how disappointed her new boyfriend might be to find it, or how disappointed her parents will be when they find out he's Bruce Wayne's son. With her dating track record, and the way she likes trading things back and forth that make each other laugh, she supposes Jason Todd Wayne might just be worth the trouble. At least, she hopes so.

Chapter 1: Give Him Another Chance

“Jay?” She calls from the doorway with the grocery bag held around the middle and one hanging from each arm. Her plans of a girl's night movie fell flat when Audra ditched the rest for her new guy, and Evelyn came down with something vomitty. The rest of them disbanded after that.

Sure it gave her an excuse to also see her kind of new guy, and he did give her the key to his place for when her dad had her take deliveries in his part of the neighborhood, but still. The place looked dead from the outside. It sounds dead from the inside.

“Shit, I hope he's not dead in here,” she mutters as she slides the brown paper bag onto the kitchen counter. Knowing how he likes to cook, she stole, or more culled some choice produce from her dad’s shop. The other two bags feature nice cuts of meat bread, and some seasoning ingredients she noticed he was low on the last time he invited her over. Over two months in, he made dinner and they made out far longer than she ever held out with a guy that hot before. Then his fucking phone ruined it with some family emergency.

“Please tell me he’s not dead in here…” she doubles down on her anxiety as she packs the more perishable items into the fridge and freezer quickly wondering if finding an heir to the Wayne fortune dead in his apartment might mess her up and the rest of her semester. Muggings and shootings a dime a dozen around the alley neighborhood, she did wonder why he lived so close to it after he told her who his dad is. Maybe he found out that the quiet of the tucked in house he kept meant nothing when it came to safety down here, she peeks down the hallway into the shadows.

She repeats the complaints about it in her father's voice in her head about her overactive imagination. Then she shakes it, and credits it for her good marks in creative writing. It also keeps her happily occupied writing fan fiction whenever she finds herself stuck on long waits for the bus to get to campus. The way he fell asleep with his cheek pressed against the glass read as some vagrant slacker, not some rich asshole’s adopted kid.

She only meant to help him not miss his stop when she nudged him awake thinking that his copy of Wuthering Heights balanced open on his thigh gave him away. How was she supposed to know that he read classics for fun, even without sharing the same literature class at Gotham University. He always got there late, sat in the back, and left immediately after. Or he did until she awkwardly woke him again the next time she caught him headed there. He introduced himself that time, and got her name out of her with a tight draw of her arms into her sides and a cute awkward smile.

Isolde being far too odd, she covered it with Izzy and he assumed Isabel until she drunkenly confessed it after bumping into him again, heading back from a campus party. He walked her to the shop, and she hooked her thumb at the little side door. She remembers the off kilter smile, and move of his foot before he cleared his throat despite her still lingering buzz. He was that cute.

“It's a shame you don't have a Tristan to take an adventure like that with…” he mentioned with amusement at his own joke.

“It would be, but between you and me, Tristan sounds like such a douchey name,” she smiled then swayed a little with her keys in hand, “and my dad's name is Mark so that's no bueno…”

He laughed at that, and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, looking down and away shyly.

“But Jason seems like a nice name. I don't know that I've met a bad Jason yet.” She smiled and patted him on the chest a little too friendly. He blushed and cleared his throat.

“Well, then it's up to me not to ruin it for you… no pressure or anything.” he chuckled awkwardly as she looked over her shoulder with a key in the door.

“Well I have pressure enough for the whole neighborhood. Maybe just be yourself and we'll see where that gets us, and all Jason-kind?” She held the door open for a little too long, and he admitted later that he kicked himself for not asking her out then.

“Sure. I can do that.” He took one deep breath, leaning back a little on his heels. She can still see him clearly like that in her mind, head cocked slightly and green eyes bright on her, spot lit by the street light.

Now she wonders if she'll see him again as her anxiety gets the better of her wandering into his bedroom. Sparsely decorated and mostly clean, she breathes a sigh of relief until something starts moving.

A hand on the door frame and ready to bolt, she freezes until the collar jingles.

“Oh, Dog… I almost forgot…” she drops her hand and settles into a crouch to greet his puppy. Grey, and short haired, he called her a full-blooded mutt like him and she laughed at it and the eager dog kisses on her hands.

“Yeah you're a good girl. Who's the best girl really, keeping me from spooking myself alone here…” Isolde reaches for his real best girl while she's still on new girlfriend status. Tentative and obviously not entirely trusted, she considers why he might not be home when he said he would be taking it easy tonight.

“Tell me I'm being an idiot already and we'll get you some juiced up kibble,” she avoids the first sloppy dog kiss but gets a wet nose tracked across her cheek instead as she lifts her.

She told him she respected the no name thing with his puppy, coming from having a mom so extra that she named her after a medieval fairytale character. Little moments like that make her smile as the rain starts really kicking up outside. Cooking some chicken she dealt with the off cut pieces first and scattered them and juices over dog's food before setting the dish down. Then she managed a nice little meal for herself with packed leftovers for Jason.

[Don't get too accustomed to this. I don't even do my own laundry yet 💜] she left on a sticky note on the top of it before flopping on his couch.

“I don't know if you're allowed up here but who am I to make the rules?” She tells the dog as her wide head settles in her lap, “at least you're a warm and lovely reading companion… just don't tell Jason that it's fan fiction. I don't need him knowing that I'm that much of a dweeb yet, okay?”

Such a dweeb, she repeats to herself as she settles into a new chapter of a Batman based one she started reading on the bus early in the semester. Born and raised in Gotham, she knows far too well that the masked people and meta humans aren't make-believe or playthings. They’re real people, with real lives under those masks and powers. It gives her pause on occasion when she finds the really nasty stuff. Not enough pause at all, she purses her lips at the new notification about her latest not at all tame piece.

She can't seem to stop writing about him. Not the bat, but the guy who kept the dealers and gangs from harassing the store, the Red Hood. As much as she forces herself to write serious stuff for class, she relaxes imagining what he might do when he's not exchanging bullets with the worst of the worst in Gotham. Other people seem to enjoy it too. They follow her fics and wait patiently for new blurbs where she tries to guess why he does what he does, what color and style of underwear he wears, what his favorite Halloween candy is, or much much worse.

“It's a way to pass the time,” she told Evelyn when she caught her smiling at a particular commenter.

Diceynotdarcy kept making her laugh in the comments. It felt silly and stupid to have a tete a tete with some stranger on the Internet over some other stranger’s private life but it amused her. This time he questioned something and she smirks at it even on second reading.

[Are we sure he deserves an angel?]

In the story, the reader is a teacher who helps run an after school trunk or treat event. After packing up for the night, she encounters some gang trouble but Red Hood handles it. The villains make off with the candy but she gets something sweeter when the vigilante admits that this isn't the first time he made sure she got home safe.

[Isn't that the point of faith? That everyone deserves second, third, and even fourth chances in the service of good?... Then again Lucifer only got one and he was the hottest of all the angels 😇] she replied earlier, feeling a little less down about her wrecked night. Now, sitting in the dim light, wondering if her boyfriend stepped out with some demon, she appreciates the new reply.

[Are you saying that maybe she's a devil in disguise?] He came back smartly, triggering the notification.

[Aren't we all? Feeling shame, hiding sins from the people who could help absolve us of them?] She sends with a playful run of her teeth over her lip as the dog starts whining.

“Aw, baby…” she rubs behind her ears but it doesn't help. The sweet girl gets up and slumps a reluctant little walk to the door before pawing at it.

“I get it. I fed you and now you don't have a choice but to brave the storm…” she pockets the phone and leaves her pen pal guessing.

He wrote back [I doubt you need much absolution with the way you write. Your angel must be bored. No wonder you spend your care on a demon].

“We'll do a quick round the block, and be back here before you know it.” She tells the dog and she hopes that she means it.

With pepper spray dangling and her keys between her knuckles, she wishes her angel has time to be bored. This neighborhood springs surprises on a girl if she's not careful, even from the people who should protect you from the others. Only the desperate head out in this kind of driving rain too. It pisses sideways along with heavier drifts, and she thanks whatever guardian, angel or dumb luck, keeps an eye on her when she makes it back without an issue.

Keys jangling with the sound of Dog's collar, Izzy still watches behind her until the door swings open slightly without testing the lock at all.

“Ooh, maybe don't.” She pulls back on the lead but between wet hands and the mutt's insistence, she loses out.

“Dog! Shit!”

The living room stayed low lit and cozy seeming, attached to the kitchen the same as it was before. She curses inside her head, but stays quiet as a mouse with the first steps. Even the click of the lock sounds like too much attention.

Maybe she didn't latch it fully behind her, she reasons as she tests it this time. Maybe a murderer found a perfect target on a shit night for hunting, she continues. Or far more likely, maybe she started dating another piece of shit who hadn't shown his true colors yet.

Phone shaken out of her pocket, she uses the flashlight as she follows the sound of Dog down the single hall leading to the bedroom and bathroom. The boot could be one of his, the leg it connects to maybe. But when the man pushes up to stand, she freezes. Tall, wide at the shoulder, and with the mask she imagines the face beneath far too often, he faces her with one hand still up on the wall.

“I swear. I have nothing to do with it.” She puts one hand up, stuffing the other in her pocket with the phone, “whether he runs drugs, or drives, or even just pet sits for the mob…”

Izzy backs away, shaking as she tries to call Jason without looking at the screen.

“I don't need to stay. I can go.” She assures the man who features in her stories but only hunts criminals. Fuck she hopes he only hunts criminals. She fails at calling and then tries again as he steps towards her, one hand still trailing along the wall.

“Shit… it had to be too good to be true didn't it?” She starts breaking, irritated at her own stupid hand for not dialing right, “he’s a Wayne kid they said… but they don't know how rich people work…”

Her hand rises, fingers curled like they want to comb through her hair, he watched her do this when she took a test in class. Isolde rubbed at the back of her head and neck as she leaned onto her elbow. Here she drops it before she can comfort herself as she tries not to cry.

“I'll go. I'll just go. Unless he got hurt by mistake. Is he hurt out there somewhere?” She winces and finally gives up, her other hand coming out of her pocket to cup the top of her head, “even if he did something wrong… you can't just not give him another chance…”

Her breath chokes and his hand brushes the wall more as he drops to his knees. He leaves a track of red down the surface.

“Oh fuck,” she stands there open mouthed as he eases down onto his knees. His other hand steadies him on the ground as he holds his left side again.

“Think I can get some help?” He manages with a squeak to it.

“Okay, okay, sure. Help,” she nods and then rushes for the kitchen. Yanking the towel off of the oven handle, she frantically considers the rest. A bottle of tequila on the counter comes with her, and the finest pointed carving knife from the magnet strip on the wall as well.

She drops to her knees hard in front of him and tugs back the jacket off of his shoulder. He goes straight for the bottle, moving his mask to her side. Still hidden, still reeling over how to tell her, he unscrews the top one handed and takes a deep drink.

“I meant to use that as an antiseptic but go off I guess.” She snorts out an amused little breath through her nose.

“What are we looking at here? I've seen a few slash and stab wounds. I'm not quite as good at… bullets.” The last word lands flat as she recognizes the hole easily enough, “of fucking course.”

She snatches the bottle out of his hand and ignores the gruff grunt over it.

“I'm going to lift the shirt up and this is going to hurt like a bitch.” She warns him as she starts moving it off of his carved muscle. At least she got that accurate in her silly little stories, she sneers at herself.

“Wait…” he sets his left hand on her shoulder, then reaches under his arm to unlatch the plate armor.

“Good, smart considering.” She eyes him suspiciously before blinking at the exposed green eye and going back to dowsing the wound in alcohol. His hand clenches, fingers digging into her shoulder as he hisses.

“Motherfucker!” He breathes out rough.

“Not yet I'm not, but maybe with the way guys keep going, I should give the moms a chance.” She mutters as she towels at the back of his abdomen. He may have shuddered out a little laugh or she hurt him more. Whichever she still breathes a sigh of relief.

“There's an exit wound and it's small too, Thank goodness.” she mutters as she holds the towel on it. Wrapping it around his front, she uses her other hand there.

“Think you can cover that with one hand?” Isolde asks as she sits up more again. He nods fast, brow furrowing slightly and she tries to shake those green eyes again. They burn into her far too bright in the low light, like he knows what she writes about him.

It helps when Jason's dog pushes in around the masked man with a scarf she left one day. White and blue, he liked how she played nervously with it as he gave her the grand tour of his simple safe house apartment.

“Aw, good girl. That is mine and it will help. Thank you,” Cinched tightly, she ties it covering the wound with a cute scrunch to her mouth as the dog snuffles and nudges against his thigh. Be cool, he thinks hard, narrowing his eyes at the puppy until Isolde distracts her with a heavy rub of her hip.

“It'll have to do for now…” Izzy transfers weight to her butt, and moves back as she stretches her legs out in front of her.

“Thanks…” he stays gruff voiced, hoping for some slim chance to keep her out of the mess he is, or at least partially so. Still new, he still hid the rougher edges, even down to the friction with his adoptive family from Isolde Zervas. Even if she claimed to be a neighborhood native through and through, she didn’t deserve the added layer of fucked up he heaped on top of it.

“You didn't see Jay anywhere did you?” She starts with an entirely too dimpled brow, “what the fuck am I asking? You don't know who that is…”

She rubs her brow, leaving a streak of his blood over her eyebrow.

“Jason Todd… he's a little over six foot, wide shouldered, dark hair like yours, green eyes…” she almost laughs into another like yours. It honestly occurred to her on their first date for a second. He came in close enough to really see the streak in his hair, as she stuffed a wad of cotton candy in his mouth at that lame little street carnival the school nearby threw.

The knock at the door snaps her out of it.

“Shit I'll get that.” She remarks dully as she stands.

“Don't…” he warns, trying to move to grab her leg.

“It could be Jay.” She lifts a hand and then reaches over his shoulder and pulls his sword free of the scabbard on his back, “don't worry. I’ll look through the glass first and we'll be fine.”

He drops onto his hand and hisses through the pain as he attempts to say her name.

“Gotham PD,” the man announces when she shows one eye through the glass in the door. As she unlocks it, Jason can feel the bile rising in his throat.

“Is there a problem?’ she keeps it to a tiny gap to fit just her face.

“No problem now, darling.” He smiles too wide and shoves his shoulder into the door hard.

“Izzy!” Red Hood manages but timed with the crash of her stumbling back, and the dog forward growling as he grabs her collar, it washes out.

She raises the sword right handed with her left splayed slightly out and balanced, and he swears he won't survive this if something happens to her. Even if he guts this asshole from tip to tail, he'll never forgive himself.

“How cute. She's armed.” The guy sneers as he unholsters his gun.

He blinks and she lunges forward with the blade to catch him across the knuckles with the tip. Then with a turn of her wrist, she flicks more of the edge back across his chest, sending him reeling. It sliced his shirt like tissue paper, clipped the fake plastic badge and notched the edge of it. The cheap piece of illusion spiderwebs then shatters into cracks and pieces, as the blade lowers slightly. Rushing him as he stumbles back, her shoulder pushes him through the door and out of sight.

“What the flying FUCK…” Jason drags himself a bit, then stands unsteadily. Using the wall for purchase he follows the muttered swearing into the driving rain. Through the opening he watches her circle. Every time this asshole lunges she responds with the tip of the blade only dancing tiny flicks across his arm or chest, or a deep cut across his thigh when he tries to rush her.

Down on hands and knees, the jerk spits on the ground and reaches for his piece quickly. His last chance to best her, the fake cop drops onto a shoulder, arms training up with it when a shot sounds.

It pushes his body forward as Jason's hand itches pleasantly from the recoil. He takes another shot, and another into the man's back. Then he stops, arm holding himself up by pressing his back into the other side of the door frame.

The hood of her jacket down, Izzy stands there staring at the body as the rain keeps plastering her dark hair to her face more on the one side.

“Inside.” Red Hood commands, snapping her out of it.

“But the body…” she nudges the boot with the tip of her own..

“His friends will find it and write this place off. They don't want the cops finding it.” He tells her, “come on. Inside.”

“okay but…”

“It will be fine. I promise. Just get inside.” He gestures with the gun and she finally drops her shoulder from the guarded position.

“Okay,” she lifts the blade and wipes it across her sleeve, flips it and does it again across the inside of it before squeezing through the door next to him, “it's really well balanced.”

Shutting the door with a bump of her shoulder, she latches it one handed, forced close to him as he leans still lost in how hot that blade cleaning was. She did it without thinking.

“And a little too sharp to be that flippant with it. You fence?” He lifts both brows in the middle as she gently moves in under his arm on the injured side.

“Yeah. My dad did for ages, still does, but doesn't compete…” she admits with a little air of pride.

“It shows.” He forces out as they make their way deeper into the place, “we need to stay away from the windows…”

“Alright but if I put you in his bed you gotta promise not to bleed all over it.” She teases gently.

“I’ll try my best.” He grumbles, failing to stop the little smile it inspires.

“Good because I can't afford to add new bedding, let alone a mattress when I don’t even live here.” She complains a little back.

“You said he’s a Wayne. His dad can afford it.” Jason snipes as he sits a little rough on the bed.

“They're not that close.” She reaches for his boot, “or it doesn't seem like it... I don't know.”

“It's new huh?” He lifts his foot to allow it to slide off.

“Sort of…” she squats and slips the second off with a twist as he moves it.

“So, still playing the field?” He clicks his tongue as he removes the harness for the sword sheathes. “got some room in that roster?”

She laughs and sits on the floor with a thump, “no… no… or… he was supposed to be home tonight being lazy…”

She rubs at her brow again, the dried blood coming off only to spread it into a toy of her hair. Dark but not black, it holds a kind of wavy curl he really likes, or liked when he got the rare chance to touch it like the other night. He made dinner, and she made him really regret having other responsibilities.

“Maybe he's doing some lame rich people thing,” he sighs as he finally lays back absolutely sure that he fucked this up, like always.

“He's not like that. He knows that I don't give a shit about that, or I thought he did.” She finally checks her phone again and types.

[Perfection is boring. Give me purgatory at least, where we can be each other's imperfect angels] she sends it and drops her hand only to hear the familiar chime immediately.

“No…” she scrolls the screen, closes and reopens it again. Not other app uses that, and her notifications still sit blank. Up on her knees, holding his left one, she lowers her phone slowly to see him reading his, “dicey?”

He starts to laugh, and covers his eyes with a hand as she climbs up looking haunted, “Of course you have to be… brote_saurus? Izzy this isn't fair…”

“Jay?!” She slaps him flat on the chest then cringes as he curls over on the wounded side, “shit I'm sorry! I just- you just-”

She sits on the bed and leans over him, rubbing his back as he starts to laugh. Then she folds her legs up next to it to warm them.

“What the absolute fuck?!” She groans and sets both hands on the top of her head exasperated before dropping one to rub the base of her skull like she wanted to earlier.

“At least I know you have a thing for lost causes,” He stretches and passes an arm around her tucked in legs before removing the mask, “so maybe I didn't kill my chances along with that asshole out there?”

“Maybe?” She folds her arms and rests her head on them on his hip, “does this hurt?”

“No… or not yet. It will if you leave…” he passes a hand over her head.

“I'm not leaving with you injured, and fake cops looking for you,” she tilts her head, rests it on the side, “did you at least eat before you went out doing whatever the fuck got you shot?”

“That would have been the responsible thing…” he looks up at the headboard instead of at her.

“So, no?” She jostles him slightly.

“No,” he gently heaves a deep breath.

“Good thing I left something in the fridge for you then. Stay put.” She warns him as she leans further over him to push herself up. He rolls back to his back and catches the ends of her hair through his fingers. The shy shrug of his brow and wrinkle between it moves slowly before he nods.

“Yes ma'am.” He gingerly moves himself to sit up.

She comes back, humming and dodging his dog at her feet.

“Shh, sweetheart, this is for your dad. You got yours earlier.” Izzy chuckles low and spares a hand to pat her as she passes off the plate to him.

“Oooh bread. Is it-” His voice can’t hide the joy after seeing the shape of the slice, cut from a hand formed loaf.

“Mom bread yeah. She thought it was for the girls…” Isolde shrugs as she climbs onto the foot of the bed. Sitting with her legs tucked under her, she looks at the place anew. A kind of cubby of a driveway tucked between two buildings hid the smaller one from view, or made it look like a garage or chop shop. It makes sense in hindsight that he might hide in plain sight and under modest means like this.

“Still not telling her?” Jason works his jaw a little then nods slightly into the chewing of the food. She could have run screaming, but she didn’t. Her parents not knowing that she’s seeing him shouldn’t be anywhere near the top of his concerns right now. Still it stings a little.

“Not telling dad, which is kind of the same thing.” She waves away a bite and lets him eat another, smiling tightly as he piles a bunch of chicken and vegetables in before adding a bite of bread that shouldn't fit. As he chews it slowly, his brow wrinkles and she responds to it.

“The last guy I dated was a dealer AND user who needed an ambulance at the first family dinner I invited him to…” she worries her lower lip into the upper one carefully.

“Is the Red Hood better or worse?” He softly speaks around another smaller bite of bread.

“Probably better than a Wayne.” She admits as she stretches out on her side at the foot of the bed.

Chapter 2: Crime Alley Perverts Union

When she wakes, she finds him sleeping face to face with her. He must have gotten up to take care of the plate, or let the dog out or something. For now his head leans back, jaw out and softer featured at rest like this. Her fingertips find that squared line and follow it.

Her father mentioned it once, when Jason wandered the store after they met, before he worked up the courage to ask her out.

“Kid looks like that Wayne asshole.” He muttered as he slid a box full of broccoli crowns into her waiting arm.

“Not everyone with dark hair looks like Bruce Wayne dad,” she rolled her eyes but took a fresh look at this guy who made her laugh on the bus. When they shared it, twice a week, she didn't write or answer comments from her comment section pen pal for hours between that and classes. She wondered if he ever noticed the drop off.

She touches the little white streak of hair cautiously.

He flinches in his sleep and startles awake.

“Sorry, I…” her fingers curl but he moves his into them, spreading them out before spacing between them.

“I'm sorry.” He spits out carefully, “I didn't think last night... You came by expecting me to be here and I wasn't and then you patched me up, fought off that prick… and I acted like you should wind down like me, be able to talk about it.”

“Hm?” She gives up his hand and moves closer, wedging herself in to use his arm as a pillow. His other arm wraps around her as he smiles.

“You were probably in shock…” he moves the blanket back over her.

“Is that why I'm still tired, and sore?” She asks with a nuzzle under the jaw where she touched earlier.

“I get it, if parents are an issue, if my shit is an issue… I understand.” He quiets as she shushes him.

“Shhh, we're resting, and you're comfortable.”

A kiss smooshes into his cheek as her hand settles over his heart.

“Besides, I have to see if I wrote this right.” She murmurs and feels his cheek tense into the smile.

She slept for another hour or two snuggled up in the curve of him. He replayed everything from the beginning starting with her hazel eyes and wrinkled nose hovering close. Shaking his arm gently, her fingers brushed a scar and she lifted it away before biting her lip and finally saying something to him instead of just the teacher.

“Hey, um, are you, do you need the University stop too? I thought you might.” She stepped back and waved at the driver, pointing at the door.

“Uh yeah…”

“Okay then sleepyhead, come on.” She held a hand out for him, took his copy of Wuthering Heights and kept the page with a finger before tucking one of the random coupons from her parent's store into it.

“Free bookmarks too? That's an elite wake up service,” he chuckled.

“It also gets you a free zucchini when you buy two?” She smirked as she turned and walked backwards a few steps after. Then he stayed shoulder to shoulder with her across campus. It felt odd, listening to her for weeks in class and then having her that close with her dark thick lashes and little beauty mark just under her left eye. The hazel in both was greener than he had imagined, mottled in with warm browns like a soft mossy patch somewhere quiet.

Now she stretches and does the unimaginable again when she kisses next to his mouth. Then her lips trace his lower one as he turns to meet her.

“So you're not breaking up with me yet?” He mumbles into the next one.

“Not yet.” She sighs when he drags her half over him onto his back.

“Good,” he nods before another kiss, then another.

“I'm not hurting you? The bullet wound?” She questions with longer kisses between.

“I heal fast… it's a long story.” He holds her face, enjoying how flush her cheeks get on the tan skin.

“I do have to get going soon.” She chuckles when he whines and drops his head back on the pillow, “oh shut it. You left me high and not-at-all dry last time.”

“Izzy…” he groans it out into a whimper.

“Jason…” she mocks him right in his ear and he opens his eyes to look at her.

“Almost a crime to cover those with a mask,” she sits up slowly then traces a thumb across his lips, “or these…”

“Fuck it,” he pulls her over underneath him for a more flowing kiss, “tell your dad. I'm up for a fight.”

-----

“Where are you going?” Bruce asks when Dick turns to leave the kitchen after only grabbing an apple.

“Jay never came back last night, and hasn't answered his phone since. I know he gets shot all the time.” He mocks his little brother's voice at the last part with air quotes, “but he knows to check-”

“He's fine.” Tim cuts in, bumping him slightly further down the counter to get at the coffee maker.

“He usually is, yeah but-”

“No no, not Jason fine. Normal people fine.” Tim holds the sugar up further and further for a few seconds over his cup, “maybe better than fine if this morning is any indication.”

“You're not supposed to be spying on your brothers anymore,” Bruce turns the page on the paper, only to peer over it at his middle youngest of the sons.

“I only peeked into the traffic cam recordings this time.” He slurps at the rim where it almost spills over.

“This time this morning or this time since we split up last night?” Dick asks.

“Do you really want to know, or do you want to know about his giirrrllfrieeennnd” Tim holds up his phone dancing it back and forth until Dick reaches for it. Then he yanks it back quickly.

“Oh come on, that’s not fair,” he follows him step by step laughing as Tim sloshes his coffee.

“Watch the floor or Alfred will have you both on cleaning duty no matter what your brother is up to.” Bruce raises an eyebrow with a shake of the paper open and fold of it down again.

“She’s cute. What's she doing with him?” Dick leans in next to Tim and takes a big bite of the apple.

“Amature dental exams? Holy moly…” Tim turns the screen and zooms in until Bruce's hand covers it.

“That's enough. Jason obviously wanted some privacy.” He takes a quick glance at the screen before handing it back to Tim, “I suggest we give him it.”

The woman glanced up cutely at his second eldest, holding his jacket, still shorter with him on his bike next to her where he dropped her off at a bus station. In a T-shirt and jeans with it, at least there's a chance she still doesn't know about his night job.

-----

“I'm here!” Izzy calls out when she lets herself into the shop, still early she still hopes no one noticed how close to not early she cut it.

“It's about time! I need a box of red potatoes from the root cellar!” Her father calls back.

“On it!” She tosses her bag under the counter and slips through the gap in the shelves next to it for the store room and the stairs down. Her friend Eve had her alibi, texted back emphatically but now she calls.

“You stayed over.” she hisses softly, “spill the tea already.”

“No tea to spill.” she searches down the shelves before locating the gold ones, then a tray of red that she shakes to check for sprouters, “still a really good kisser.”

“Ugh Izzy, I'm barely alive after barfing most of the day away yesterday. I need more than this pining.” Her friend fusses.

“Too bad so sad. I'll catch you up on things later… after work…” she narrows her eyes and sweeps around the space.

“Fine sure. Leave me hanging.” Eve complains, “later.”

“Later.” Izzy replies and turns to pick up the box.

“Who's a good kisser?” A tiny face asks her so close she can smell the maple syrup of breakfast on her breath.

“Phee! I swear to God!” Izzy pushes her at the shoulder and watches her scramble back only to fall off of the shelf backwards. Her little sister flailed, grabbed and had pulled the box down with her.

“Owww…”

“Quit faking and help me pick these up!” She ducks and grabs enough to fit in both sweatshirt pockets, “dad asked for them…”

Those magic words get her moving far faster. Tossed one at a time into the air, Izzy moves the box to catch them then finally slides it off onto her hip.

“You still said it.” Phoebe pouts behind her on the stairs.

“No I didn't.” Izzy replies.

“You told someone about someone being a good kisser. Who's a good kisser Izzy? Hmmm?” Her sister ducks under the box and shows up in front of her until Izzy spins past her.

“Shhh, it wasn't about that. It was about a story I'm writing, a character.” Isolde lies seamlessly.

“That is such bullshit.” Phoebe pipes up only to freeze in place.

“Phoebe Penelope Zervas!” Mark raises his voice and himself to full height. At over six foot, he towers above both of his petite girls, but thinner, more svelte than Jason.

“I didn't! She was lying.” Phoebe points, arm out, at Izzy who hands over the box before explaining.

“She was eavesdropping while I was talking to Eve about some of the story stuff we’ve been working on and thinks that it's real.” Izzy gestures round and round next to her head like her sister is out of her mind.

“I told you no more eavesdropping.” He tucks the box into the tilted rack and comes around the aisle glaring down at the younger girl, “and gossiping, and messing around when you're supposed to be sorting things down there!”

Izzy sticks her tongue out at Phoebe behind her father's back as the elder steps back out to the counter and starts the usual part of her Saturday mornings. A few customers show right at eight when they open, but then traffic dies way down until lunch. Her phone helps pass the time as she logs in and handles part of her school work before getting entirely distracted by Jason sending memes and cute texts..

[You need to stop] [I’m manning the shop until three] She warns.

[Oh really?] [I think I'm low on sugar] He replies.

[You are not] [It was almost full this morning] She quickly corrects.

[Was it?] [Damn I need better excuses] [movie tonight?] He tries artfully.

[You have a family dinner] [Every Saturday, you said] She types it, but he can hear the chiding in the last sentence.

[Shit that's true] [and they're already being weird again] Jason admits.

[Tomorrow?] [Breakfast and books?] She smiles softly, trying to ignore the lady coughing in the tissue aisle.

[Tomorrow] [meet you there?] He fires back.

[Yeah] she sends it fast and locks her phone before tossing it in her bag at her feet.

-----

He eats silently at the long table, more or less. Questions batted around, most days he doesn't even bother saying anything.

“The usual,” for classes next week.

“Basically done,” with assignments for them.

“Mostly healed,” about the gunshot wound.

“And the girl you’ve been spotted with around town?” Stephanie interjects.

“That's- that's none of your business,” he scowls, stabbing into the last of his potatoes. Almost willing to sacrifice them into someone's face, he waits it out.

“You could invite her to dinner, you know?” Bruce glances down the table only to leave it be when those sharp green eyes snap back to him.

“Can I? Oh goodie. I'll let you know when I’m actually dating anyone.” He stuffs the last piece of his steak into his mouth for a chewing excuse. Izzy went through enough last night, and even with his own very real death, the ghost that haunts him is her little noises as they made out.

“Does she know that you're not actually dating her?” Dick starts up until Barbara puts a hand on his and drags it into her lap with a shake of her head.

“Who?” Jason challenges them, “and which of you nerds started sticking your nose where you didn't belong?”

‘Obviously someone with a boring life in need of better topics,” Damian snorts under his breath.

Cass tilts her head and then points low at Tim to her right.

“Fucking figures” Jason huffs as he stands and takes his plate with him.

“Language.” Bruce flatly intones.

“Yeah yeah… I'll leave a fifty in the jar.” He dismisses the chatter behind him.

“I just thought she had a pretty name… Isolde.” Tim shrugs and moves the brussel sprouts around on his plate.

“Like the old stories?” Bruce smiles and Jason catches the hint of it as he passes through the door.

“Someone made a movie of them a while back as well,” Alfred adds as he starts collecting others to follow. Jason sets to filling the sink with soap and all for him. He even washes his own plate to start it off.

“It was a decent adaptation,” the butler continues dryly as he takes the young man's spot and Jason moves to dry.

“Yeah, I just didn't think she looked right for the part at first, but it was good,” he agrees.

“Hm, princesses were always blond and fair back in my day.” Alfred nods.

“And the first real princess I knew was Diana.” Jason smiles at the idea of Wonder woman fainting or waiting for someone else to save her.

“Dark hair, stronger features, capable and still lovely,” Alfred relays gently with a pat of Jason's shoulder.

“Yeah,” he answers simply, drying a dish at a time carefully and keeping pace with the one person who allows some silence. As he gets to the glasses Jason ventures a little more.

“She's on the Dean's list every semester so far…” he offers quietly with an eye back on the dining room door.

“Intelligence. That's your father's weakness, though more accurately cunning.” Alfred muses.

“Yeah, she's not like that… she's kind. I kept falling asleep on the bus and missing my stop. The professor clearly wasn’t pleased when I kept wandering in late,” He smiles, holding down the low laugh he still feels when he considers it.

“She saved you from yourself.” The older man chuckles lightly, “an impressive feat indeed.”

Jason laughs low, “I guess, yeah.”

“You know they're just curious because they care.” He gently broaches.

“I know. They’re a lot though, and this is new and- does Bruce know a Mark Zervas?” Jason asks quickly between siblings passing by.

“The name is familiar…”

“He used to fence, like with swords?” Jason clarifies.

“Ahh yes. Now that men held a grudge…” he begins and then ends the tale as Bruce makes his way through and down to the bat cave.

-----

Out on patrol, he checks his phone only to see the eye roll from Dick again.

“Don’t make me push you off.” Jason mutters from next to him on the rooftop.

“I'd be fine. It never works.”

“There's a first time for everything.” he takes a glance again, and smiles this time.

She sent a picture of herself upside down with her headphones on that cycles slight movement of her hair swaying back and forth.

[What are you listening to?]

[Creature by Half Alive] She replies with a link to it as well. Piped into over his comm, he can ignore Dick for a bit and watch how her eyes change color depending on the light in browns and greens and amber tones. He hangs his legs over the side of the building and types one quick question before they move to follow a van full of some kind of costumed idiots out of the Iceberg Lounge.

[You weren't scared with everything last night?]

He steps out of the mix later, a spray of blood over the chest of his armor and a hand through his hair as he sets the crowbar back on his back. Typical to those dorks, they had started planning some bullshit, and Bruce doesn't need another cop interrogating people.

“Little wing?”

“Taking a smoke.” He lies at first over the comms, “tell me when you need some heads knocked around again.”

He checks his phone for her answer, and shakes a smoke out of a pack anyway.

[Ha, shit no, I was terrified] [But I couldn't leave you hurt like that] [and then once I knew it was you…] [IDK] [It wasn't so bad]

[Good] he replies with a few quick draws of the cigarette under the mask.

[Be careful out there?] She sends [please?]

[Even if you think it's hot?] He smirks and sends a masked selfie.

[Oh god. I almost forgot] [I'm never going to live this down am I?] She laughs as she strips her shirt and tosses it into the overflowing hamper.

[You better not forget] [Some of those stories get downright nasty] he starts laughing and remembering the Halloween one with the angel costume.

“What are you laughing at?” Damian asks from above him, hanging off the street light.

Immediately moving to draw a gun on him, Jason grouses, “Son of a bitch, I told you not to do that.”

“My mother is not a female dog. She is difficult though…” his brother narrows his eyes down at him.

“Yeah,” Jason holsters his weapon again and tilts his screen in tight to read it.

[I'm more mortified of that than anything else last night] she answered.

[Well I wasn't commenting because I was horrified if that helps] he replies only to have to hide it until later.

[It does and then doesn't…] she left on his screen.

[?] He drives his bike home, waiting for any answer, late like this.

[I can't quite play the angel now, can I?] She replies around when he passes through her neighborhood. So he stops on the street and spends a little too long staring at the dimly lit window, wondering what she's doing.

[Maybe not, but you can save the damned without being perfect.] He answers and she finally gives up the fight.

[True, but I probably should try to sleep now] she stands and walks to place her phone on her desk to charge, carefully wiggling the old charger into the port. The flick of lights outside her window draw her eye down to the street but she doesn't cover up. Instead she opens the window and shakes her head. Hands on the sill, she leans out in her sports bra.

“Hey, be careful. They let some real perverts run around this neighborhood.” She smiles as he drops the hood then fold his arms on the handlebars.

“You don't say? Maybe I should stick around then,” he smiles.

“And form a perverts union?” She questions.

“Fuck no, I'm not paying dues for stale donuts, shit coffee, and minimal wage increases.” He jokes.

“Minimal means life and death down here at the bottom. Maybe you need to learn how the real perverts do it.” She laughs as she ducks back inside, “goodnight handsome.”

“Goodnight angel.” He replies and notices how it catches her off guard.

“Fuck she's cute when she blushes.” He remarks to himself before setting off for home.

------

“You can say it's too much whenever.” He sits across from her in the diner as she cuts the last of her pancakes.

“What syrup? You didn't even use that much. You should see my sister.” She stabs at a stack of pieces and wedges them into her mouth cutely. With a darker red lip gloss on at first, he couldn't catch words in his brain when she hopped off the bus up town with a smile surrounded by that and legs in dark tights with a short plaid shirt and combat boots.

“No, I mean all the texting, and the showing up outside your place…” he ignores another buzz of his phone for this, “I know it's a lot.”

“No… it isn't. You checked in to make sure I was okay after I had to leave. I didn't want to…” she drags the last bite through residual strawberry topping left on the plate. It matches the lip gloss and contrasts dark compared to her soft sweater.

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself.” He drops his voice low and she has to take a sip of coffee to clear her throat through the blush.

“So did you.” She pushes the bite further on her fork and then finally takes it, “even though you keep causing the same problem I already had.”

“And what's that?” He laughs as she sneaks out of her seat.

“Excessive masturbation with a very defined target of inspiration.” She whispers in his ear, “gotta use the loo. Don't wait up.”

Are you planning on…” he flusters as she lifts her hands in a shrug on the walk to it, “god damn.”

He started it, he reminds himself later when she brushes past him at the book store. Then he reminds himself again when she leans back against him to show him what she found below his sight line in another aisle. In the back corner with all the animal encyclopedias, she kisses his cheek when he gets close to see what kind of iguana she has.

“His name is Cactus.”

“You have to stop doing this to me…” he playfully complains with a shift of his weight.

“What, showing you my lizard does not mean that you have to show me yours,” she giggles as his mouth hangs slightly open.

“That's too far. That's it. You've flustered this poor innocent man, and what for? Your own sick amusement?” His eyes follow her hand as it grabs a handful of his shirt to pull him down closer to her more diminutive height.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Her eyes challenge him and in this light they look greener again.

“Only a little one,” he takes the kiss with a wide smile lifting his upper lip away from it. She tugs his shirt harder and he raises his hands to go along with it more.

“I don't know who lied to you, but that's not little.” She glances down with a click of her tongue and a brush of her ass and hip against him as she passes.

Then he catches her smirking as she weaves her way around spaces he can't until the front of the store.

“I've got this.” Jason nearly juggles his wallet across the counter as she shakes her head.

“It's only a few and you got breakfast. I could treat you,” she hugs one arm around him.

“I can't allow it. When it might mean life or death…” he lifts her chin using his finger and hands his card over during the distraction.

“Okay maybe I oversold that, but yeah. I'll take it.” She slides the stack closer and peeks inside one of the top ones.

“I bet you do it sweetly too.” He murmurs low in her ear as he finishes the transaction over her head on the keypad. Blushed bright red in the mirror behind the clerk, she covers her face with one hand as he scoops up the books. She keeps struggling to get her canvas bag out of her purse.

“I can carry them, it's fine.” He waves it off, with them fit snuggly under his arm.

“Okay then…”

“My place?” His brow raises as they reach the sidewalk.

“Yeah, your place.” She takes his hand and holds it sandwiched between both of hers as they navigate the streets around their shared corner of the world.

——-

Dog out for her pee break, he comes back to Izzy cuddled up on his sofa reading quietly.

“Can I..” he clears his throat, “um, sit in the middle and have your legs over mine?”

“Sure thing handsome, but a please will get you further,” she leans her head against the back of the couch as he gets comfortable. Lifting her legs and tugging them closer he comes nose to nose with her. Looking down through his lashes he amends his statement.

“In that case…” he licks his lips while studying hers, “please?”

“And there goes my focus,” she laughs and hugs him into a kiss on the cheek, book forgotten on her lap.

“Good. It works then,” he takes her mouth again, fresh lip gloss slightly sweet as he wrecks it. Her hair half up, and away from her face made it easier to leave kisses on her cheek. He kept aiming for the little beauty mark if he could see it. The best was over her shoulder where she'd smile and lean into it, and often turn to catch a quick mouth one.

Now he celebrates his access to more of those. She presses almost aggressively into them the more he holds her flush against him. The more her breath tightens and quickens the firmer he holds until his hand has a heavy squeeze of her thigh in his grip.

“I have a question,” he touches up the small of her back as his nose wrinkles before a shorter kiss.

“Yeah?” She replies, out of breath and falling back as he lowers her onto the couch.

“How did you get so accurate with your description of my dick?” He laughs through his nose at the frustrated noise that she makes.

“I mean it's eerie really.” He chuckles like an idiot as she pulls his T-shirt in towards her.

“I can't give away my secrets but let's just say I have my methods…” She buries her fingers under it, dragging it up as she draws his upper lip between hers.

“And how tested are these methods?” He questions as she sets a thigh on each side of his waist.

“Enough. You would not be surprised at all how easy it is to get a man to show you his dick.” Izzy replies, laughing a little as he smiles again.

“Maybe I should play hard to get then, set myself apart from the crowd.” He holds on to her, arms pushing down her back, hands kneading her ass as he moves her hips into his.

“You already have.” She holds her lips together and her brow dimples in the middle as her hands push up on the shirt and into his wide almost plush pecs, “mmmnnn..”

She blushes where he kisses her cheeks fast. Then he stretches out and she rakes his neck with her teeth.

“Jay!” She gasps softly as he rubs against her through his jeans.

“What princess? That feels good? Right there?” He asks cutely, eyes half lidded and chin to his chest to see her stretch and her eyes roll.

“You write about cumming through pants or slick wet panties… I just haven't had a chance to test it yet. Is it accurate? Does it work for you?” He asks knowing that it works for him the way she moves up rubbing his engorged length deeper and firmer into her valley.

“Mmm, mhm, yes,” she reaches down and holds his sides, hands helping to direct the motion, “fuck yes.”

“Good, because I want to take you out, get you in the VIP section of the club and get you off where anyone might see,” he rumbles roughly in her ear, “sitting on my lap, prim and proper, but mine.”

His hot breath pushes through her hair as he feels her tense in small amounts.

“I want to show them, have you squeak quietly in my ear. Like that.” He smiles as she responds with it, like a little mouse until her mouth opens, stretching her neck and he caps it with little shushes.

“Shhh, shhh, Isolde… shh Izzy my little princess, that's for me, right?” He nods as her head does too, “that's for me and I'm going to cum where you want it.”

He kisses her deeply as she makes a deeper satisfying noise, hips moving slower with his. His belt opens with minimal struggle and her finer, smaller hands reach down in against his abs and then down that lovely thigh to crotch transition. When her fingertips brush up the length he freezes in place.

He makes it so easy to wrap it in her grip.

“Do I get to see it?” Her voice teases as his mouth opens against hers.

“Can I figure out if your lips are lighter or if the head matches them when they're flush like this. I bet it does, delicious like these…”

“Oh fuck, Izz…”

“You like me talking about it? Did you have it in your hand when I guessed before? Were you dreaming about being handled like I wrote about you?” she pushes his shirt up and peeks down and on to see her hand wrap it as his hisses out a breath and then groans lightly.

“I was. I did. Fuck did I ever fuck my hand, wondering when I'd meet a woman that wanted to, that liked to like that…”

“Oh I like to.” She kisses his chest, “for big gorgeous men who need to hide…”

She pushes his pants down a little with her knees.

“You don't need to hide with me.” Her lips spread wider on his chest as she strokes him working with how he moves into it.

“But you do have to cum on my tits baby…”

“Fuck!” He gasps and moves up closer.

“I went without a bra hoping for that…” her breath takes on a laugh through her nose as he frantically moves her sweater up and cups one breast carefully.

“Oh fuck Izz, Izz I can't- I can't-” his whole body shakes a little, weight bearing on her hand more.

“You can. It's okay. You can edge longer if you want to too. You just need to cum for me like this, aim true just like this.” she assures him.

“I want to feel it on me.”

“Mn, god, fuck, oh fuck,” he sends the first shot with little warning and a load of worry but it lands warmly on her right breast. The second strikes the inner left over her heart as she kisses over his.

“Mmmmm, there we go.” She kisses soft and slow as he lowers his hips and finishes in smaller pumps on her sternum, “perfect job, such good aim.”

He shakes, with a full body shiver in her hand and she glances down again, “damn I did picture it pretty damn perfectly. Talk about a useless super power, am I right?”

He laughs too, as she holds her sweater up and he backs off carefully. Lifting his pants, and resecuring the belt, he assesses the damage and finds himself appreciating it far more.

“God damn. you're beautiful.”

“Of course I am. I just got a custom paint job.” She wiggles her shoulders, small breasts jiggling as much as they can.

“It's a shame that I have to clean it up.” He strips his shirt and gently tends to the worst of it.

“Don't take it all. I want to feel it there later, take a shower and remember this…” her fingers trace his chest, soft over faint scars and smooth skin alike.

“I know. It's ugly with the autopsy scar there.” His lips flatten and then thin against each other. The thin lines barely registered at first, but she never thought they were for an autopsy.

Sat up on his knees with her legs up over his hips he still tries to catch his breath and his brain in the wake of it. Eyes blinking, she thinks that she almost see tears gathering. She pushes up on one hand and climbs up to her knees to follow the faint one she things he means across his collar bone with her pointer finger. Autopsies are after death, or they should be, she worries her brow.

“I know they probably hurt you even to think about. That's the part that's ugly. They're on someone who didn't deserve it, but that doesn't make him ugly.” She draws him down with arms around his neck, and leaves a kiss on his right cheek as her fingers brush the faint j shaped scar on his left one, “you're far too pretty for that…”

“Izzy… I… they're from something that's so hard to explain…”

“You're still beautiful, and I'm here to listen if you want to tell me.” she sits back on her legs more and even moves when he gets tries to get more comfortable to tell her.

Chapter 3: The Secret Nastiest Kink

Summary:

Concerned about the supernatural trauma dump, and his freezing up after, Jason takes the bus again assuming the worst as both families deal with assumptions of their own.

She held Jason's head on her shoulder. He said he wasn't ready yet in short breaths. Fighting tears when most of the truth came out, Isolde insisted that it was fine. It didn't feel fine after she left. It felt like he fucked up again. He got stupid and vulnerable in the wake of things that keep taunting him.

She sounded and felt so hot before that, coaxing and urging him to cum for her, on her. Yet every time he went to text her his brain ran out of words. He considered skipping class but his literature grade raised his GPA and he wanted to catch the Dean's list if he could. Only one full day after their date, he guessed it might not matter. Then again it wasn’t just some little reveal; he died.

With his luck, he expected to climb onto the bus to a hurt look from her, without the shy smile and move of her bag off the seat next to her like she actually does.

“Anyone sitting here?” Some random lucky jerk ahead of him asks.

“Yeah, I'm saving it for… my friend…” she trails off.

“Just a friend huh?” The blond guy leans over her then glances back as Jason looks away, “he doesn't seem that keen.”

“He is,” he shoves him at the shoulder into the next set of seats, “or at least keen enough to spare her your bullshit.”

Standing with his hand on the seat back in front of her, he finds his mouth dry and his stupid brain lost for words.

“I… Izzy…” he stammers and sits as the bus driver announces to take seats. She keeps her shoulders tucked in, and eyes down.

“I didn't know. We didn't talk about labels yet really, and I know you're busy some nights and if you're not that keen now, I guess I get it…” She hugs her bag to herself and keeps from looking directly at him. He leads such a different life, she was almost sure that he meant to scare her off with all of it at once. Then he never texted back all day Monday and it felt like confirmation of her fears.

“No, shit no. I'm obsessed. God my brothers are up my ass about my new girlfriend,” he tilts her face up gently, “I thought that I maybe freaked you out.”

“Oh,” she blushes softly and nods, “I thought that maybe I did the same… with the writing?”

Her hand reaches up and it isn't until she rubs her eye that he realizes how close she was to crying.

“It's okay. I meant to text or call. I just… I don't know…” he wraps an arm around her and finds an imperfect way to say it, “you scare the shit out of me.”

She barks out a little laugh, “sure.”

“You do. Now give me an ear bud and another song?” He asks to defer the confession he feels brewing.

“Here,” she tucks one into his ear with a touch around the lobe after, “I have weird taste…”

“I like it so far.” his cheeks tighten ahead of a smile that holds off as the song starts. [Achilles Come Down- Gang of Youths] Her fingers drum on his knee and his thrum on her ribs on the opposite side for the next one as she relaxes into his side. [Soldier, Poet, King- the oh hellos]

They stand together, and she slips her hand into his the moment it frees up on the way down the bus aisle. Her fingers grip his firmer as she steps after him on the stairs, then her gait bounces to the beat of the end of the song.

“Alright, come on princess.” He lifts her hand to his shoulder and then her at the waist off of the last larger step.

“Whoo!” She laughs and he stops to move her out of the way of other people to leave a kiss on her forehead.

“Are we good?” He asks carefully, nose to nose with her.

“That's a loaded question. By whose standards, by whose rules?” She kisses the middle of his upper lip just to watch his eyes close and reopen, “I'm better than before, you?”

“Much better.” Jason nods before stealing another kiss and leaving one on her beauty mark as he hugs her.

“Class?” She brushes the jacket on his shoulder before setting her head against it. His arm squeezes her tighter, hand on her hip. Under the jacket, her cold fingers run across his faded worn-in T-shirt.

He takes the seat next to hers, far closer to the front of the class. It earns a tight smile from the professor.

“Mr Todd,” he nods at the young man, “I appreciated the piece on Bronte. Keep up work like and you might give Ms Zervas a run for her money.”

“I'm not the one with the trust fund…” Izzy dips for her notebook as they start up the class officially.

“I don't have a trust fund.” He mentions somewhere into the bus ride back to their shared neighborhood.

“Oh,” she considers him anew, “I don't need that you know.”

“I know. They just donated a lot to charity, my family, when things happened, you know?”

“Oh shit. Oh shit that was so stupid of me.” Her hand rises and she covers her mouth with a few fingers.

“It's okay. I still have an obnoxious amount of money though.” he smirks it off.

“Oh good. I was really worried that I would never get to shit in a gold plated toilet.” she rolls her eyes.

“Hey, I won't judge your kinks if you don't judge mine,” he laughs as she hits his arm and starts laughing too. Drawn in against his chest, she tilts her head at the slant of his smile before his brow furrows faintly in the middle, “what's that look for?”

“The secret nastiest kink that I dare not even write about,” She teases, “let alone speak aloud.”

He blushes slightly as he clears his throat, “oh really?”

“Yeah, really.” She wiggles her butt next to his hip and leans back on him, offering the ear bud again, “you'll just have to throw your own at the wall and see what sticks.”

“Oof, you might end up living to regret that,” his laugh sounds better than the music, moving his chest like it does as he adjusts the ear bud in his left ear.

“Or maybe I'll regret not trying?” She queues up a song to avoid what she knows the look was about, feelings. Being his girlfriend out loud helped but it snuck up on her joking like two disgusting perverts. Then it smacks her upside the head as he takes a picture of the two of them in the reflection of the bus window, her cuddled under his arm and leaning her head against it as he rests his on her hair to smell her shampoo.

When she tries to move to let him up at his stop, he holds her fast.

“I want to walk you back to yours.” He says against her hair, “stay?”

“Yeah,” she takes his hand, keeping it between hers, “stay.”

------

“Thursday night?” She nibbled away from the kiss on her porch.

“Hm?” He questioned, brain entirely wrapped up in her lip gloss flavor again.

“The sorority party?” Izzy bit her lower lip, taking some of it for herself.

“Oh, yeah. I can put in an appearance.” He promised before getting one last taste of sweetness before the porch light flicked on out of nowhere. In a quick leap over the rail, he disappeared into the shadows before the knob even started to turn from the inside. Hearing her lie about who she was talking to sticks as he walks home to the safe house. Taking a fire escape up, he avoids the worst of the neighborhood tonight.

A fight might put him in a more proactive mood instead of this, he reasons then notices how the song changes. He never gave back her ear bud and it fractures a little on the connection when he stops at the top to keep it clearer.

[I see you- mission]

Then she texts [you know you need to stay to get introduced right?] [Whenever you're ready]

He rubs at the scar on his face with the heel of his hand, wondering if they'd see him the same way as she does. She touched it like a kiss, like the j just fondly says his name for him.

He tries to remember that on Thursday night with a beer in hand, surrounded by vapid kids talking about the last time they got drunk or high. It gets easier to remember when Izzy comes back to the back patio dragging her friend Audra with her. In a short skirt and tight knit top, and knee socks, his girlfriend bounded across the yard when she noticed him show up like he promised.

A few drinks in already, she held his waist and insisted with one word, “kiss.”

That's all it took, until now where she moves around the fire pit and sits on his lap.

“This is Jay,” she pats his chest as he sits up more and drapes his left arm around her waist.

“Hi Jay.” The lighter haired woman lifted a hand and then pushed out, “it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Same,” his fingers can't help it. The open patch of skin between sock and skirt demands a lazy touch as he phases in and out of the conversation.

“So, how are you dealing with papa Zervas?” Audra finally raises the topic.

“Avoidance.” Izzy laughs before scrunching her face and then shaking her head, “I'm tempted to put it off as long as possible. It's so stupidly unreasonable.”

“I get it. There were unspoken rules that everyone else understood but Bruce just barrelled into competition and did what Bruce does.” Jason sits up more in the Adirondack chair and scoots Izzy closer on his thigh as he points around the bottle in his other hand.

“He won. It's normal to think that's that and move on if it's not your whole life.” She moves her hand up Jason's arm and sets her head on his shoulder. His hand wrapped around her thigh might be helping her patience. Or maybe she heard far too much bitching about how spoiled brats don't defend their titles.

“He didn't even bring back the original trophy. He kept it and just bought a new one engraved with all the earlier names.” Jason sets his beer down and hugs both of her legs close to him.

“And misspelled Mark's name in the process.” Audra adds in, but lifts her phone to catch this picture. In it her friend holds the complete attention of the “Prince of Gotham” as she sits up to adjust her sweater. When she notices him staring up at her, Izzy smiles and then directs him by his jaw into a kiss.

“Yeah, that really shouldn't have happened. I'm with Mark on this one.” Jason wrinkles his nose up at his girlfriend.

“Well, that's it.” She catches just the tip of his nose with another.

“What's what?” He smirks slightly.

“A glaring sign that I need to bring you home.” She wiggles when his thumb brushes her inner thigh, “just say that and you'll have my dad eating out of your hand.”

“And then I just compliment your mom's bread, and I'm in…” he smirks again.

“Gotta love a man with a plan,” she giggles and misses out on how the l word landed as she twists to watch some scuffle play out further out in the yard.

They stay out on the porch late, the fire and Jason's wide hands keeping her warm until Audra throws a blanket at them.

“We're perfectly warm.” Izzy protests.

“It's not for that. It's for the groping.” she points at her eyes and then back at Izzy's with a sharp smile.

“We’re not that bad… are we?” Izzy worries until she starts laughing at his lips on her neck.

“Now we can be.” Jason rumbles into her ear as he sweeps her hair away from it.

“Shhh, quietly.” She holds herself up on his chest as he leans back with her held against him making a kissy face.

“Very quietly,” he slips his hand between her thighs as they kiss painfully slow cuddled cutely under the thick plaid throw.

“Shit, you are hot,” she gasps against his throat, feeling his hard on against her knee. Quietly, they toy with each other, locked in slow kisses except for when people pass loudly. No one wakes them when they fall asleep. Jason jokes that he either doesn't sleep or could sleep anywhere. Izzy swears she can't unless she's warm enough, and feels safe.

[Everlasting- Matt Maeson]

He woke first trying to curl into her only to stop himself before she slid off onto the arm rest.

“Mmnhh,” she stretched and moved herself up more onto his chest. Laying down the middle of him, she nuzzles between his pecks and he moved her hair out of her face as she hid from the sun.

“Do you need to be home soon?” His voice comes so low and lovely through his chest.

“No, I sometimes stay up here on Thursdays. I have a class at nine.” She checks her watch.

“You're still good. I need fresh pants that I didn't bring…” he chuckles, with an uncomfortable move against the dried patch of cum in them.

“Oh yeah.” She cringes, “sorry about that.”

“No, don't apologize… fuck that was hot…” he stretches his arms and folds them behind his head.

“You have some talented fingers.” She lifts herself up using his chest.

“Skill.” He insists as she arches up to catch a kiss.

“Mmm, skill gets built. Should I worry about all that practice?” She narrows her eyes at him.

“No.” He smiles wide as she kisses the J on his cheek, “just enjoy it.”

“Okay. Stay here?” She climbs off of him carefully.

“Yes ma'am.” He offers a hand as she finds her shoes, kicked off during the night.

“Good man.”

-----

“It's not your fault.” she tells him quickly later, “and luckily my dad usually doesn't read that column but my mom does.”

Izzy rushes home after her later class, clearly irritated on the video call he started up once he heard about it. Hearing about it came from a cleared throat as he came out of the shower at Wayne manor.

“It's your first run in with the Gotham gossip,” Bruce handed the folded paper to him with a photo of him and the slim lovely girl perched on his lap. The minor headline reads Prince of Gotham and his mystery girl caught canoodling at campus party, “what do you want to do?”

“Violently murder whoever sold that picture, probably string them up and torture them for the slight first.” He remembered Audra taking a few photos but not from that angle.

“Legally, what do you want to do?” Bruce sighs poignantly and opens his hand at the paper where Jason tossed it on the dresser.

“There's nothing we can do. She's an adult. I'm an adult. Her parents might not be so chuffed about it but whatever…” he grumbled as he put boxer briefs on under the towel.

“Is she alright with it?” Bruce leaned against the door frame, watching his second Robin pull a shirt on faster, then pants in sharp movements.

“Yeah. I think. I hope.” He answered and rushed his way onto the call with her.

Now he shows up at the curb before the bus, on his motorcycle with a fast, “hop on princess.”

“Alright but that line better make a comeback later.” She laughs as she shuffles to a run in her heels.

“And up.” His hands plunk her in front of him, and she lets her hand wander up his neck before she kicks a leg over and wiggles her ass back into him.

“This will be fast, just to warn you.”

“The vibration work that well for you too?” She smirks over her shoulder.

“No, or yes, but more that I need to outrun the guys that enforce the helmet laws.” He cuddles her in, and then speeds off with her.

She makes it inside the side door, dragging him by the hand with her. Her father grunts and slams with somewhat excessive noises on Friday evenings, moving box after box of the delivery order. Thursday night as her campus night with Audra or Eve came with a begrudging grunt knowing she wouldn't be there to help if it showed up early in the day. Classes were always more important, and she trades in her Friday nights or all day Saturday usually as payment.

“Why not just come clean with him first?” Jason points back at the ruckus, “I could help.”

“All in good time. Mom first.” Izzy weaves back through a hall into the small commercial kitchen they pieced together through upgrades.

“Estoulet?” The clear feminine voice starts before Izzy gets pulled deeper into the room, away from the wall of ovens that waft an intoxicating smell off of them. (Acadian French Canadian for little star)

“It smells like heaven in here…” he mumbles as he spins to note the mixers and then the two women staring at him.

“You brought him home?” Her mother's dark hair swept back into a ponytail shows lines of silver that only enhance the laugh lines at the corners of her eyes. She read the column and quickly tried to help her daughter limit any potential harsher fallout later, “Is that wise?”

“Yes,” Izzy splays her hands, “so, get this, he and Bruce are tense already and… and, he agrees that the whole trophy thing was out of bounds.”

“Complete bullshit.” Jason confirms.

“Watch the swearing.” Both women turn and raise a finger at him that he purses his lips at then smiles in surprise. The resemblance is uncanny but not exact.

“This could work,” Noelle Zervas steps between the couple and assesses this young man. Straightening his shirt and collar, she clicks her tongue at him, “normally I would say to tame that hair but you'll just look more like him that way…”

She reaches up and tousles his locks before tilting his chin when he blushes, “he's cute. I'll give you that.”

“That's enough. Enough of that…” Izzy pushes past her and steps her boyfriend back from her mother.

“Is that what you're going to look like when you're older?” He glances back as she turns him and directs him to the basement stairs.

“Grab something from the hall. The heavier the better.” Izzy hisses at him, “and you haven't met her yet.”

“What about the bread and the smell?” He asks as Izzy as she takes a tray of potatoes on her hip.

“Oh talk that up as much as you want.” She heads down the stairs, sending out a sharp whistle about halfway down, “Da? I'm home and brought backup.”

“One of the girls? Honey that's sweet but you know it's mostly heavy stuff by now.” He wipes his hands on a rag that he tosses over his shoulder. Then he pauses with a deep breath and hands on his hips.

“I figured. Dad, this is Jason Todd from my literature class, Jay my dad Mark Zervas.” Izzy slips out of the way, rotating the potato boxes so that the newer ones stay on the bottom or further back.

“It's a pleasure sir, Mr Zervas, Izzy's dad,” he flusters quickly as he holds two bags of rice up on his right shoulder. Using his left arm to steady it he extends the right.

“Pass me those,” Mark actually smiles in a short laugh, “then we'll shake hands when we're sure no one pulls anything.”

Izzy stays back, quietly organizing things as she can.

“Todd, I don't know that we know any Todds in the neighborhood.” He muses quietly with eyes narrowing on the square jaw and almost winged eyebrows.

“I was adopted, around when they both passed. Technically, I'm a Wayne but you know. It's complicated…” Jason darts a look up at the man with the thick swath of wavy brown hair more graying than his wife's. Sharp blue eyes meet his hesitantly.

“Bruce Wayne, and yet only an adopted father?” He raises a brow and the Greek accent slips through.

“I know there's some resemblance but we tested, more than once,” Jason gestures and then moves into the space to lift the bags and settle them more solidly on top of each other on the half pallet keeping them off the floor.

“Thorough,” Mark grunts with a cross of his arms.

“Stubborn, miopic…” Jason mutters low, “single minded.”

A dull laugh gets looser, “Alright alright. I may not be a fan, but he's still not here to defend himself.”

Markos Zervas stands straighter and wipes his hands as Jason wipes his. Then they shake only to have the older hold his hand tight and pull him a step closer.

“And what are your intentions with my daughter?” He tightens the handshake but the young man doesn't flinch.

“Uh, to respect her, and her future, and…” Jason's cheeks color again as he tries to marshall some other good thoughts, “not spoil but treat her where I can…”

“That's enough dad. Jason stopped by with me to help for a bit. Maybe stop checking the gift horse's teeth?” Izzy chides as she sweeps back up the stairs. She changed at the sorority, and went to class in leggings, a crop top, and her jacket. Jason avoids staring too low, but his head tilts all the same.

“Alright horse. Up the steps and I'll meet you at the bottom.” Mark shoos him with a hand as the older man watches his daughter slip past this Wayne child in the hall. She looks up at Jason with an awkward little side smile and it breaks her father's heart a little. He knew that it was only a matter of time. Three boyfriends in, none of them gave him this subtle sense of dread quite like this before.

With most of the order dealt with, Jason stops and wipes his face with the hem of his T-shirt. The peek of his abs up in the hall distracts Izzy just long enough for the throat clear behind her to make her jump.

“Who's that?” Phoebe sing songs from next to her.

“That's Jason…” Izzy carefully checks the front of the store where one of her cousins minds the till waiting to be relieved, “and he's off limits for teasing.”

“Psh, no one is off limits. Especially not ‘the kisser’.” She wiggles her fingers dramatically as he notices both of them.

“Phoebe, Jason, Jason, my annoying younger sister. Mind your fingers, she bites.” Izzy hooks a thumb back at Phoebe.

“Better than blowing like you.” She sticks out her tongue until she gets called by name from the storefront.

“A pleasure,” Jason tips a mock cap, and laughs.

“Ugh this is no fair.” Phoebe grumbles as she stomps over to her after school job.

“Saved by responsibility. Don't take her too seriously.” Izzy winds past him.

“But I heard something about blowing.” He murmurs low, pouting exquisitely.

“Shhh, none of that.” Izzy sticks a pointer finger in his face as she laughs.

“None of what?” Mark asks, part way up the stairs with the canned soup she meant to go down to restock.

“Disturbing mom while she's working.” Izzy corrects fast.

“I was just saying that it smells really good. I wasn't going to wander off when we're almost done.” Jason looks down his nose at her as he lifts the last box up onto his shoulder.

“Well, I will check in with her, but I suppose we can fit another chair at the table if your friend wants to stay for dinner?” he raises a brow.

“Um, yeah. I think…” Jason checks his phone where the siblings have gone full bore on the gossip article with things like

[canoodling?! WTF is a canoodle] from Damian.

and a [it's when a pretty woman takes pity on a barely functional man and they smooch and stuff] from Tim.

[what kind of stuff?! 🤢] Damian replied

[That's enough] Jason attempts to shut them down.

[You don't want to know] Tim adds

[Stake out in the alley 7] Dick announces out of context.

[busy] Jason replies fast, and nods to Izzy, “Turns out I'm free for dinner.”

[It's your neighborhood!] [That's not fair] [Dick tell him that's not fair] light up in succession in various colors as he stuffs it back into his pocket.

“It won't be for an hour or two right?” Izzy asks before her father gets all the way through the door, “Jason and I could study for our lit test next week.”

“Studying… sure.” He sighs trying to figure out an excuse or a way to have his twenty year old daughter leave her bedroom door open. None of them sound right, “thank you for the help, Jason.”

“My pleasure. It was a good workout.” Jason waits for him to fully retreat back into the commercial kitchen before widening his eyes at Izzy.

“I think you aced that…” she takes his hand and tugs him towards the stairs that lead up to their living space in the small building.

“So are we celebrating?” He speeds up before her sister can hear.

“Yea, come on, gift horse. Someone told me to hop on earlier and the bike wasn’t my preference.” she chuckles as he catches up and lifts her, legs wrapping around his waist.

“One more floor?” He kicks off his shoes where she did, and searches for the next set up.

“Yeah. Hyah!” She digs her heels into his lower back and slaps his ass. Laughing with her, he makes it to the next before kissing her up against the door.

“Shhh, to the left.”

“Your room is to the right…”

“I mean your hips.”

“Ohh, that left.” He mumbles into kisses along her cheek to the beauty mark.

---—

The newspaper from the morning sits on the sideboard at dinner time in Wayne manor. Still folded with the picture of Jason and Izzy on the top, Alfred pushes it a hair as he sets down the first chafing dish.

“She seems like a lovely girl,” his voice raises at the end with his brow.

“With a familiar name.” Bruce adjusts some device, pieces spread out on his end of the dining room table.

“The fencer,” Alfred reminds him with a flat tone.

“The fencer, yes…” he rubs his brow paying special attention to the bridge of his nose after.

“Your jeweler's glasses,” his butler slides them closer.

“Yes, thank you Alfred.” Bruce blinks at them, a slight smile forming on his lips.

“I did not tell Master Jason about the suspicions with Zervas later on, or why he may have retired early.” The older man sets silverware at the table for six total.

“We had no firm proof with enough competition wins to afford that property in the alley,” Bruce reasons.

“But we couldn't risk you facing him again as yourself in case you needed to face him as the bat,” Alfred continues with a second chafing dish on the side board.

“And he's had plenty of time to get over that slight.” Bruce snaps the casing shut on the previously malfunctioning grappling gun.

“According to your son it's not nearly enough apparently,” Alfred sets a bowl of soup and a spoon down in the space vacated by the equipment.

Bruce eases out a long sigh as he sits to eat.

“Sounding rough there,” Selena rubs his shoulder as she stops on her way to the opposite end of the table, “physical or parental?”

“Parental.” He chuckles low.

“I should have known. It sounded more hopeless than the other.” She tilts her head as Alfred pulls her chair out for her.

Chapter 4: Brought to His Knees

Summary:

Unlike a fight where it's easy to see how the tide is turning, day to day in a newish relationship works like quicksand. Navigating one family starts to work out in their favor and leaves both of them wondering if they'll make it out of this relationship in one piece or if they even want to.

The braid of her hair helped hide the one hickey she tried to cover with make up. The one on her thigh still tingles where he pulled the blood to the surface before going more gentle on the other leg. She crosses them and makes it through dinner answering questions and trying not to laugh as Jason gushes about the food.

“I still can't believe you make fresh tzatziki and pita.” He marvels while taking another spoonful for his plate. With meat layered onto the bread as he takes big careful bites, he remembers his table manners for now. The best behavior holds the more he thinks about what he did with their daughter upstairs less than an hour ago.

“Not every night, but yes,” Noelle laughs at it, “I'm sure Isolde could teach you. She has flat breads down to an art.”

The glance at her only adds to the blush, “it's not that impressive. Jay cooks more difficult things than that…”

“Even with a butler you learned? That's laudable, isn't it Mark?” Noelle pats her husband's hand.

“What? Oh yeah. Sorry, I'm just watching the property values climb everywhere we keep looking.” He sets his phone down and tosses the front lock of his hair with a few fingers, “no offense but your father gentrifies like it's a personal vendetta against us.”

“Oh mamour, that's not necessary… Jason is a guest and I'm sure that he doesn't make those kind of decisions with Bruce.” Noelle defends him.

“Or any decisions really,” Jason mutters, knowing that’s Dick Grayson boy wonder territory or even Tim Drake with the mind like a steel trap.

“Sorry. I know you didn't really choose it. Learning life skills, concentrating on your classes, those are worthy things.” Mark finishes off his food and wipes at his mouth, “how did the studying go?”

Izzy coughs in the middle of a sip of water, “good, good. It's on romantic poetry.”

“Ooooo,” Phoebe chimes in with little smooch noises after.

It makes Jay laugh, “not like that, or not only. The Romantic Era, first half of the 1800s.”

“And mostly just the British for this since Americans were getting into transcendentalism.” Izzy adds smoothly.

“So like who, what's a good example?” Noelle props her elbows on the table.

“The professor had people read a few out loud. Not me because I was always late before she started helping me not fall asleep on the bus, but Izzy read Byron's "She Walks in Beauty…” Jason trails off, reluctant to give away how that cemented things for him.

“She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.” Izzy starts with a shy shrug and gather of her plate and her sisters. Setting them in the sink she hears Jason pick up the rest.

“One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.” He glances up at her then back to his plate with a small clear of his throat before finishing.

“And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent…” Jason hands his plate to a temporarily stunned Izzy.

“I can't believe you memorized it when you didn't have to.” She smiles and then catches her mom's silly shmoopy face and her dad's absolutely terrified one. Then Phoebe breaks the spell with a little barf noise.

“Phee, seriously? Why don't you go sweep the store and finish your homework.” Mark sighs as he moves her along to it.

“Um, yeah, well, I should help with dishes and then get home to let the dog out…” Jason stands slowly with him and takes any of the other plates he can awkwardly.

Swaying next to him drying dishes, Izzy keeps bumping into Jason. Her hip hits his thigh and he snickers lightly, still keeping hold of plates. As he reaches up and puts a large bowl away, she does it again.

“Shi- shoot quit it.” He manages a little bluster but the tough facade cracks.

“You liked me…” she teases in a little sing-song way as she bounces a little dance, “you wanted to date me…”

“I was already dating you then.” He argues back.

“You got all nervous kissing again after. Me and my raven tresses fucked you uh-up.” she lifts her shoulder and bounces another little dance move.

“I’m gonna tell on you.” He warns with a stern look down that he can't hold for the life of him.

“For what? Pointing out how much you pine, you messy piner?” She bumps him with her hip again.

“I do not pine! That is slander.” He points a finger down at her.

“Get your daddy's lawyer and I'll see you in court.” She sticks her tongue out at him, “I bet I find J heart I in your notebook in discovery, you moon eyed dork… ooh or Mr. Jason Zervas.”

He gasps, “I was just trying to be modern and feminist, and this is the thanks I get!”

She cracks up and grabs his sweatshirt with her hand as she struggles not to bend over laughing.

“Oh so that's the one that did it? You like me pathetically admitting it?” He helps hold her up as she wipes her eyes and contains herself.

“Yeah, sorry. It's cute to think that guys do that. It's not like they write a lot of poetry like they used to… or even admit to liking someone even after they're dating…” she smooths down where she held onto him.

“I like you,” He brushes back a little errant strand of her hair, “liked how you were brave with answering, and thoughtful, and how you told that kid Tommy to eat a turd when he got all weird.”

“Fucking Tommy, such a creep right?” She shakes her head and smiles as he holds her at the hip.

“Yeah, well, that was before you woke me up with those eyes full of all that's best in bright and dark meeting right in my face.” He sways her a little.

“Told you. More pine than a colonial shipyard.” She smirks just shy of laughing at her own joke.

“Yeah, well,” he hangs his head lower and her hand sweeps hair over to expose more of the white streak.

“You have to go.” She pouts.

“You like me…” he lifts his face slightly in hers, song singing it, “want me to st-ay…”

“Shhh, give me a kiss before you send me back to my room to relive earlier.” Izzy goes up on her toes and pushes his lips open with hers before his eyes can close. As they do, his hands travel up the smooth ass of her leggings and up under the soft half shirt on her back. Hers squeezing his biceps feels like in her room after she climbed up from between his thighs still tasting of him and pushed him back on the bed to crawl over him.

He still can hear, “how was that handsome?” In his mind like she said breathlessly into his ear as he takes his bike out of the alley behind her house.

-----

Tossing a box of condoms on the kitchen counter at the safe house he removes his gloves. Lights still off, he tosses them to follow.

“Did you think I wouldn't find out?”

“About condoms? Shit those are nothing new.” It takes the hiss after it to question, “Bruce?”

“No, you asshole,” Roy punches the light switch next to him, “I was around when you stole your first pack. I mean about the mystery canoodling girl you didn't tell your best friend about!”

“Oh, yeah, her,” he cringes, “sorry?”

“Also some jackass was dealing outside Noonan's. He gave up this card.” He slaps a hand down on the counter and the address scribbled on it elicits a sneer from Jason.

“Walk and talk?” He strips as he walks down the hall to get suited up for another night of defending his turf.

“I already fed and walked the dog…”

“Thanks.” Jason kicks the door shut as he stretches.

On the street he goes over the gist of it, how he started classes again and stupidly went for night or really early ones since he was usually already up. Most of them worked out well enough but the Tuesday and Thursday literature one always ended up being after the weirdest nights helping his family with something from book reports to mass poisoning attempts by psychopaths.

He noticed Isolde early, but only caught her last name on the second time she woke him up.

“I was going to tell you after I had her over for dinner but some clock dork was pulling some crap where he tried to kidnap Damian and the whole family got caught up in that.” Jason complains over their separate comments system as he takes out people at ground level with arrows whizzing past from Roy from above, “I had to cut a really good date short for those idiots.”

“Family will do that to you. So is she in that sorority? Is there a whole house full of hot women pillow fighting every night there?” Roy levels while also leveling the few guys rushing through the door with an exploding arrow.

“Ha, now we see the real reason you were miffed!” Jason spins a guy with a shot to his shoulder and then takes a walking spin clearing out others.

“No… well not only.”

“She's not in the sorority. Her friends are and before you ask these are college girls. They're probably not interested in a single dad right now.” Jason nudges bodies to check them before calling in emergency services. He grabs the bags, sliding them across the surfaces to knock the gear used to cook the drugs off the edge.

Heading up to and out on to the roof, he takes in the night sky as Roy laments, “figures.”

“They don't push drinking at all though so it still could be a good time.” Jason meets him on the side of the roof for a glance down at the quiet streets, look outs just regaining consciousness.

“It never hurts to ask. Bruce keeps asking to watch Lian so I can get ‘out there’” Roy rolls his eyes.

“He will attempt to adopt her if you're not careful...” Jason lumps the bags all into the center of the roof and gestures at them.

“My turn? What a charmer,’’ Roy smirks and fires into an erupting arrow into the middle of them. Liquid at burning temperatures rises and subsumes the drugs, burning off a nasty green and purple glow.

“Yeah, well I just had dinner with Izzy's family and her dad is a grade A Bruce Wayne hater.” He informs his friend as he types in a message to the family about how this fits with their current ongoing issue Gotham wide.

“Ha, so does he hate you for being a Wayne?”

“No, Bruce did something after a fencing competition back in the day and I agreed that it was weak and we talked it out a little as I helped him handle putting the shop order away” Jason notes the added high temperature burn and smoking points.

“For once your daddy issues paid off huh?” Roy waves off the smell of the fumes as the pile of bags sinks through the burnt hole in the top of the roof.

“You don't know the half of it. They run that shop a few blocks down from the alley ‘Slice of Life'.” Jason waits for recognition to dawn.

“The one with the fresh bread?” Roy shakes him at the shoulder.

“Yeah, and the pies around Christmas time, remember those?” He taps the side of his fist against his friend's arm as they head back towards his place on rooftops.

“Oh god, tell me she makes them!”

“Kind of. Her mom does but she helps around the place when she doesn't have classes and…” he shows him a better photo of Izzy from the bookstore as she shook her hair out down her back, and then where she caught him with the camera on her. “and you should see how she handles a sword.”

“I don't need to know the bedroom details.” Roy raises his hands and laughs as he avoids a lazy swing of Jason's hand.

“It’s not about that…”

“I know, but I saw the condoms remember?” Roy shoots a zip line down into the alley for them, “Just don't tell me the Prince of Gotham has met his match in crime alley…”

“Maybe,” he puts the phone away as he takes the first go.

“What's the issue Romeo?” He bumps Jason into a ruffling of hair at street level.

“The same thing as there, only it's just my crazy family.” He sighs as he lets them into the house, “she knows about this, the mask, the violence, all of it and… it's weird that the other part that the rest of the world covets is the issue.” He lifts the paper he picked up earlier and looks at the photo again. The warmth of her on his thigh, how she moved it when she talked animatedly, he wants that again as much as anything else.

“Well, maybe you can ease her into it, the Wayne family insanity.” He scoops up the puppy and takes her with him into the living room.

“Yeah, maybe. You up for Bridgerton?” Jason asks as his friend lowers himself into the left hand easy chair.

“Nothing better to fall asleep to,” Roy pops the leg rest out, and lays back with a stretch and a yawn.

-----

“My friend Roy wants to meet you.” He tells Isolde on the phone, “and bread from the shop. I know. Shut up. Shit, I said I’d tell her.”

“Well I got up early to help with baking and am stuck here…” she sighs deeply as she rings out a guy who keeps staring at her not even that evident cleavage.

“He also wants to meet Cactus but I told him he sleeps in the morning when it's cold.” Jason chuckles and tosses a kitchen towel at Roy's face.

“Well, you lucked out there too. It turns out that I am the warm dear Cactus wants today.” She adjusts the little claws digging into her shoulder as she hands over some change to the man just noticing the large lizard across her shoulders.

“Damian is going to be so jealous…” Roy crows as he slips his shoes on by the door.

“Yeah yeah, don't rub his face in it too hard, okay? I'm trying to make it through one more week before I'm absolutely forced to bring Izzy.” he warns his friend as he ties his shoe and follows him out with Dog on her leash for a nice social outing.

“Well that's not concerning at all…” she says on the dead phone line.

By the time they get there, she weighs the crazy siblings stories with the poor girlfriend reality she knows. He probably didn't mean it the way he said it. She chews her lip over it a little all the same.

“How about a smile?”

“What?” She furrows her brow as she cleans a fleck of what looks like nail polish off of the seven key. Phoebe keeps doing her nails there and Izzy can't stand catching the fall out first.

“A smile?” The older gentleman extends the words and her nose wrinkles to match.

“I have a rare muscular condition. It could trigger a seizure but okay,” she starts with a grimace only to start curving the ends. Then she twitches her shoulder and cheek up.

“Uh, that's ok… keep the change..” he slides the bill further on the cheap scratched linoleum as he backs away. She plants a hand on the surface and fakes starting to droop. The customer clutches his pancake syrup to his chest and nearly stumbles into Jason on the way out of the door.

She sinks down behind the register, not seeing him yet.

“Izzy?! Call 911.” He shoves the dog into his friend's hands and takes the counter in a one handed leap.

“I'm fine! I'm fine!” She pops up, bright red as Cactus makes an irritated noise, “I was just messing with that customer…”

Jay's hands in her hair, then down her arms and flush, she freezes again. With his eyes this wide and green as emeralds lit for a jewelers display, breath tight and worried, Izzy underestimated it when she tried to write it. Fuck love is messy.

“Oh,” he blushes hard but she pats his stomach gently, then rubs her hand on it.

“That was kind of hot though.” She smiles, “last time I had to rescue you, remember?”

“Yeah, it pissed me off. Not you, them, trying to hurt you to get to me.” He colors again at the cheek as Roy clears his throat.

“Hi Roy, did you guys eat yet?” She asks with a lift of her strong brows.

“No, even though this one made us stop and carry this for you.” Roy lifts the cup away from the dog's searching snuffling.

“Well let me ask my mom whether there's still French toast left. Stay.” She points at Jay's chest and smiles up at him as she reaches for the latte from Roy.

“Yes ma'am.” He replies as she takes a sip, unable to hide how wide the corners of her mouth stretch.

“Mmm, and you remembered my coffee order.” Her cute little glance back as she licks her lip makes his stomach tighten.

“I thought that I heard French toast,” Roy leans on the counter.

“Yeah you did.” Izzy ducks her head back out, “around to the side door and Jay can show you the way from there.”

“And the puppy?” Roy's eyes go big as he lifts her.

“Let my mom handle that. It's her kitchen and the health board can be rough.” She hugs her arms around Jason's waist as Roy nods.

“Hi.” Izzy offers with scrunched lips.

“Hi,” he replies with a quick kiss.

“Miss me that much huh?” She allows him room to pass.

“Just can't stay away.” he shrugs.

“Good. Wait til you read what I posted.” She teased before having to divert her attention back to the shop.

-----

He avoided the site, and specifically her account, not wanting to read it until in private later. Still, the temptation grew too strong and the title made it worse; Brought to His Knees. Checking it just before dinner as Roy jabbered away with Bruce about Roy's daughter Lian, he covered his fluster with a dismissive wave as he went to help Alfred.

At least he stayed quiet enough to think around him.

The rest of them chattered, and bickered until the table stood set and ready. Then the younger ones all dutifully answered school questions through the first and second courses. Full of enough teacher authority questioning from Damian, Jason drops into daydreaming instead. Izzy fit so nicely in his hands on her bed he can't even exactly recall the sensation. He does remember the noise she made when he quieted himself using her thigh. The teeth marks were enough to-

“Earth to Jason?!” Dick snaps in front of his face.

“Stephanie asked you a question.” Damian lifts his hand next to their sister.

“Oh,” he clears his throat and sets his fork down, “sorry.”

“I was just wondering about your literature class.” She sits up straighter, then gestures in a way to seem nonchalant.

“What about it?” He replies with an elbow on the table, ready to rub at his brow.

“Do you like it?” She simply asks with raised shoulders, arms tight at her sides.

“Yeah. It's nice.” Jason affirms, “deeper than I thought it was going to go.”

Roy coughs a little on a sip of water.

“Does it go back to Middle English like Chaucer?” Tim chimes in here and with the eye contact between he and Steph, Jason's stomach settles oddly.

“Only touched on him a little at the beginning of the class. That's more English lit.” He takes a sip of the black coffee he poured himself earlier.

“So no medieval time period?” Steph keeps her eyes down until the end.

“No.” He answers with his nostrils starting to flare. They clearly are circling towards something and he thinks he knows which medieval story they want: the one that gives them an excuse to tease about Isolde.

“Alright that's enough unless there's a direct question?” Bruce steeples his fingers in front of him.

Tim sighs slightly with a work of his jaw, “no.”

When Jason starts the process with the dishes, he pauses at the hand that holds out the first one to him.

“They don't mean anything by it. It wasn't difficult to find her name with the hints Vicki dropped in the online piece.” Bruce raises a brow at him, leaving out how Tim found it before even that.

“Figures…” He stews over whether to snap about having to be stupid to date Bruce but he leaves it for now. Vicki Vale as an ex barely warrants a mention anymore. Engaged to Selena Kyle and pleasantly settled into the day to day already, it gives some Jason hope for himself eventually. Someone at least puts up with all of Bruce Wayne.

“They’re just curious.” His adopted father hands him plates at a similar pace to Alfred's, drawing it out while he has him near.

“Like you don't already have her dental records memorized by now.” Jason quips.

“She does need to brush more carefully on her left,” he jokes back with the infuriating little smug smirk he does.

“Seriously?” Jason sets the towel down with his hands on the edge of the counter.

“No. I only found her name and,” His sharp blue eyes catch his son’s tinted green from the Lazarus pit that brought him back to life. Since then, or more accurately, since he finally showed up on the doorstep, Jason seems forever standing with one foot out the door, “I figured that she deserves a chance to make her own first impressions.”

“Yeah, she does.” Jason grabs the towel again and sets back to drying.

“Don't leave it too long?” Bruce pats him on the back and offers a handshake.

“I won't.” Jason promises, ducking into a cringe as Damian yells.

“An Iguana?!” they can both hear the sharp intake of breath and the follow up, “what kind of iguana?”

“The usual kind. A green one?” Roy fusses against something. Probably Damian dragging him down by his shirt.

“Common green or green the color?” Damian tugs on the collar stiffly.

“I don't know!” Roy slips the hold and settles the baby fussing in his arms.

“Todd?! Where did he go?” He bursts through the kitchen doors to find only Bruce standing there.

“Did you know that he hid an iguana from me?” Damian points accusingly at his father.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Bruce laughs low with a shake of his head.

“You said I couldn't have one but she does, and carries it around on her shoulders like a cat!” His eyes go wide and he points back through the swinging door at Roy like he has anything to do with it.

-----

Getting away from Damian meant almost being stopped by Dick. He skirted the hall, tried to stay small around any obstacle he could. Then Barbara caught him.

Flopped on his bed, he finally reads the short piece Izzy posted. Setting the scene at a seedy Gotham nightclub she describes a girl out for her friend's birthday caught up in a horrid twist of fate. Two warring gangs decide to use the place as a battlefield and while she gets separated from her friends, she finds a hand extended to her from Red Hood.

It escalates to where the fight dies down, her held close and quieted with a hand over her mouth as Gotham PD clears the scene. Tucked in a priest's hole type room, he struggles with a broken mask and his resolve with his hand creeping up her thigh. Fingering, then lowering himself, mask only dropped when she can't see him against her breasts, he sees where it's going before that version of him lifts her thigh onto his shoulder.

She wrote about the hickey, how it came before he ate her out again. Shushing her with his face under the skirt of her dress, he stays on his knees and she stays quietly dripping for him.

“Fucking hell…” he breathes out, reading what it felt like from her point of view.

[This isn't fair] he texts her

[?]

[You left out what you did to me last night] the story ended with his mask back in place, her head back against the wall where he lowered her. Then she looked around and he was gone.

[That's yours to tell, handsome] [Besides fair wasn't leaving me with this] she sends a photo of the bruise fading, complete with the teeth marks at the top of it.

He calls and she chuckles as she answers the phone.

“That's so cruel and…”

“You love it, shut up.” She laughs again as she rolls over on her bed.

“Mmm, sure,” He stretches to reach the headboard and finally pulls the trigger on a smaller metaphorical gun, “Barbara cornered me after dinner tonight…”

“Hm?” Izzy replies with a stretch of her own, “what for?”

“A double date with her and Dick.” He floats the idea without asking outright.

“And what do you think of that?” She murmurs into a cute little yawn.

“I think it's better than throwing you into the river full of piranhas.” He levels with her.

“Just two of them.” Her voice sounds fond around it though.

“The two best behaved, least awkward ones. But don't tell them I said that.” He follows up the compliment quickly with the caveat.

“My lips are sealed unless you need them for something else,” she clicks her tongue.

“Don't make me break in and take the most precious thing in that house for myself.” He warns.

“I wouldn't dare. You have a rep to protect.” She chides, “what would they say if the hood finally did something that selfish, even if he deserves it.”

He stays silent, then blusters, “it's all selfish.”

“Then why don't you collect for protection?” She challenges.

“That's different.” He looks up through the window above the headboard at the stars.

“Yeah it is. Why do you think I picked you to write about?” She sighs and gives him a few seconds of silence, “I need to sleep. There's this cute guy who takes me to breakfast on Sundays… and he should check his texts after I hang up.”

“Oh really?” He huffs out a slight laugh, “and why is tha-”

The dial tone surprises, and then amuses him.

The poem she left in his texts sets him asking himself why he delays saying it. This girl is the one he wants, if he can manage to keep her.

A storm's still a storm upon the sea
But what's a lord upon his knees?
Robbed of latent majesty
Taken breaths and broken pleas

His surrender a change of fate?
Duty stripped and broken-faithed
Dragged upon rocks and raked
Robbed of power, of poise, of grace

Or is it yet some deeper jest
A turn of truth, an ironic quest
That carves the chaos in his chest
A chance to let his burdens rest?

To turn a lord from up to down
To strip his wealth, or de-crown
Does not take some great renown
violent winds or, currents drowned

A kiss or two might tip the scales
A tongue that slips out honeyed tales
Her hunger soft, and mercy pale
Might wreck his ship up on the shale

If a storm's a storm on any shore
Is it wrong to ask for more
Of Lord, of country, or paramour
To bend, to break, to be adored?

Chapter 5: Out of Bounds

Summary:

Going on a double date with the seemingly irreproachable older brother as the rest of the world picks at every slim detail they can malign, Isolde tries to remember the mantra she keeps telling herself 'fuck them'. It just gets harder when she knows what family can mean for people, and that her own has things they'd rather not talk about openly.

She wrote him a poem.

It seems stupid, standing there with flowers when he doesn't even know Izzy's favorites yet. He tried to write something but it all seemed lame when he read it back to himself. Still, she sat with him on the bus and shared music again, fingers flowing on his and head leaned back for a kiss between each song.

The flowers seem less stupid when she smiles and her hand holds his to take them.

“Your fingers are cold.” He remarks as she tugs on his to bring them back inside.

“Well, it's almost winter and I guess dropping these off gives me an excuse to grab my jacket and gloves now.” Izzy quirks her smile and lifts a hand at her mom lurking around the corner.

“So sue me. I wanted to see the two of you together dressed up.” She rolls her eyes and takes the flowers with the hand not holding the camera. Closing one eye she frames the young man in his dark suit and long charcoal jacket first. Her daughter stands out against it, dwarfed a little by him but shining in a deep red square neckline cocktail dress. Almost a full foot shorter, she could be described as slight next to him despite possessing round hips and heavy if-sleek muscle.

Stopping to pose with her hands on Jason and looking back over her shoulder, she even pops a foot up. Her mother gets one good picture before Izzy twists her face and crosses her eyes dramatically.

“I'm too fast for you by far.” She pouts at her own daughter and then makes shooing noises as Izzy swings the borrowed black jacket over her shoulders. Her mom gives her almost free reign in hers for loaners at least.

“You look really nice,” he finally speaks again when she tries to hold the skirt more down and angle into the car. His hand held out, he clears his throat.

“Oh, yeah, I um, figured I should after I looked up the restaurant. Your brother doesn't mess around does he?” Sliding into the car in little bounces, she completely misses how his eyes track down from dark red lips, to skin a shade more amber than olive glowing in the lower light on her modest breasts.

“No, no, and I think he gets a kick out of making me uncomfortable.” He lifts a hand back at Alfred before getting himself into the car next to her. When he called, he knew. It never went further than Alfred in the family when it came to speaking out of turn unless really pressed by Bruce.

The older man looks over his shoulder just for a moment as Izzy passes her hand over Jason's on the young man's knee.

“You look comfortable to me,” she studies him, the light stubble on his cheek untouched for now as she plants her right hand behind her, “we'll make it through and then do something far less classy. I promise.”

His lips draw in and flatten as the divider goes up between them and the driver.

“Not that,” she swats his arm and waits until they have privacy, “or maybe that, if you play your cards right.”

She snuggles her thigh against his as she sits facing ahead.

“I'm already winning,” He rests his jaw against her temple in a little hug, “just being seen with you.”

“Oof that was smooth.” She laughs, then looks up through her lashes at him.

“I got a deficit to make up after that poem,” he leans back in the seat with an exasperated slight shake of his head.

“Oh come on. That was so lame. I can't believe I sent that.” She scoffs, “you're not allowed to flirt with me that late anymore.”

“I'm not?” He leans forward, challenged like that.

“No you're not.” She squeezes his knee when he tucks her closer with his arm planted behind her. Her shoulder rises, jacket falling off of it under searching fingers.

“I think I've been very well behaved…” he kisses the cap of it, “and maybe deserve a little selfishness.”

“Nnnnnngh, you know we can't call off this date!” She complains but smiles through it.

“Why not?” He kisses her jaw with a slow dangerous smile spreading.

Her nose tracks back to him, hazel eyes open and warm, “Because I need to make a good impression, to show those idiots at the paper and on the talk shows and the internet, that they don't get to decide for us.”

“What did they say?” His voice drops low as his nose flares and jaw tenses.

“It's not important,” She stops him from checking his phone, “and at least your family and friends have the sense not to send things to you.”

He works his tongue rough over his teeth as he exits the car, and buttons the suit coat again. Her hand slips into his cleanly and he helps lift her onto her feet in a cute little hop on her heels. She laughs and it breaks the cloud over him enough for a shy smile of his own before he steps out of the way and holds her hand up higher so they get a good shot this time. Her purse tucked in close, she sways the skirt of her dress as he lifts her other hand up for a kiss.

Then his hand takes to the small of her back and he sweeps a look over her head, daring them not to see her for what she is.

-----

“Yeah, that's why I didn't order the lobster.” She laughs at how Dick almost drops the crackers, “I didn't need any more judgment…”

“We weren't- were you worried about us?” Barbara sits up taller, her red hair falling over her shoulders smoothly.

“No, yes. I don't know.” Izzy winces until she stares down at Jason's hand on her lap. Then she takes it with both of hers and shrugs as she rubs it.

“I’m a cop’s daughter. We never did things like this.” Barbara explains.

“Yeah but a Commissioner's family still isn't barely scraping by in the alley. I know how people see us down there.” She admits with a worry of her brow.

“Not everyone.” Dick corrects swiftly. Bruce warned him about Zervas, or maybe cautioned was a better word for it. They had a past, he had suspicions, but nothing came of it. He seemed to want it dropped before it could start and Dick agreed. It felt odd to even mention it if he didn’t want attention on it though.

“Enough do. But what is there to do about it but prove them wrong?” She nudges her fingers in under Jason's sleeve to touch his wrist. Seeing how it bothered him before, she seeks to soothe him here.

He sits up taller and sweeps his through the fine hairs at the base of her neck that couldn't be swept up into her hair. He hugs her waist when she leans into him.

“That's the spirit,” Dick agrees, “I don't think you need to worry about this one with the Waynes.”

“Oh I'm not worried about her.” Jason sweeps up a last bite of chicken parm.

“Then why all the guarded grumbling!” Dick raises his voice only to stop it quickly.

Izzy squeezes Jason's knee, then moves carefully to get up, “I'm going to find the ladies' room.”

“I'll show you the way.” Barbara offers with a look back and forth at the two men pouting away from each other at the table. Izzy waits patiently for her to spin in her chair, hands held together on her purse and avoiding the tension.

Jason's elbows rest on the table when he waits for them to disappear. Then he sighs, “why the grumbling? Gee I don't know Dick, when everything gets compared to you what chance do I have? What chance do any of us have?”

“So what, you can't bring a girl home because she won't be good enough?” Dick rolls his eyes theatrically.

“Oh, I know she's good enough.” Jason sets the napkin over his plate, “but I know you'll all pick and prod and try to find where she's weak like a game.”

“Oh come on. It’s not like I'm going to challenge her to a sword fight.” Dick leans back with an arm hanging over the top of the chair.

“Ha! You should.” Jason pushes his lower lip up, wide eyed and mocking.

“Oh god, Jay.” Dick rubs his forehead like Bruce and it only makes it worse.

“You should totally challenge her to a duel.” Jason leans in and tosses an ice cube in his brother's lap.

“Quit it. This is a nice place, and it's helping with Izzy.” Dick argues.

“You don't get to call her that until you can best her with a foil.” Jason leans back with a tight, teasing smile.

“For the last time. I am not going to challenge your girlfriend to a duel.” He insists low and with a finger pressed into the table.

“Why not?” Izzy asks as she skirts the space behind his chair to get back around the table.

“Is it because she's a girl?” Jason raises his brows and gives him a seriously disappointed look.

“No. No! I wouldn't. You can't put words in my mouth like that.” Dick complains to Barbara, “I didn't say that!”

“I'm sure that you didn't.” she comes to his rescue but with a little smirk.

“Prove it.” Izzy says. Then she sits there as all the eyes of the table turn to her, “Richard John Grayson, I challenge you to a duel, and friendly reminder- turning one down is considered very bad form.”

“You can't be serious. Tonight?” Dick scoffs.

“Sure, unless you have something better to do?” Jason shrugs.

------

“And you're sure they're all busy tonight?” Izzy stretches her neck with her hands on her hips. One of Steph or Cass’s old uniforms fit well enough to serve for one fight.

“Yeah, the whole crew went out for various things around the city. You know galas, charity shit, rich bitch playdates…” Jason rubs her shoulders from in front of her, “tell me that you can kick his ass.”

“I don't know that I can. I only found that one video of him fighting on the way over here,” she squats a little and then wiggles her butt, “what? This is entirely the wrong underwear for this situation.”

He laughs, and rubs at his nose a little, “Okay that immense distraction aside-”

“Oh they are not immense by any stretch of the imagination.” Her eyes widen as she laughs.

“That said,” he pauses and tries to picture it only to shake his head, “Bruce trained him. Have you seen enough footage of him?”

“Oohhh. Oh yes. Oh this is probably not fair.” She sets a hand on her head until he loops his under her arm to draw her close and leave a kiss on her hair.

“It isn't but it is. Knock him down a peg for me?” He asks brightly.

“For you?” She pushes her lower lip out slightly, tilts her head slowly while narrowing her very dark lined eyes, “I'll aim for tears.”

She sets the mask in place, thankful for the braids her mother helped her pin it up tonight tucking easily up inside it now.

“You are… something else. God damn.” He reaches up for two foils.

“Not that one. The heavier saber to the right. Why do you think I was comfortable enough with your katana? My dad doesn't mess around.” Neither did my mom, she thinks as she swishes the blade, tossing the grip lightly in her hand, “most of those are training size and weight. They make sense for working with kids, building arm strength and reflexes with it…”

Izzy spins when Jason comes for her without a warning or he thought, much of a sound. She slaps the foil and then flicks her hand back to hit the guard over his hand, almost pushing it out of his grip. He switches hands and shakes the one out before returning it to his right.

“Sorry?”

“Don't apologize. That was hot.” He smiles and takes another attempt, slower, flowing more. She counters and carefully calls out where he leaves open as she does.

“Also those dress pants are too tight for this.” She steps up close against him and runs a hand up his butt, “not that I’m complaining. I just don't want to rip them on accident.”

“But you'd rip them on purpose? Is that what I'm hearing?” He chuckles, hating that he can't see the expression and hoping it's the tight little troublemaking smile he enjoys.

“Yeah, now where is this golden boy everyone is so in awe of?” She raises her hands up, sword extending theatrically with the gesture.

“Right here.” Dick answers as he enters their gym at Wayne manor, dressed same as her in uniform with Barbara right behind him.

“Get your stretching in?” Izzy questions.

“Yup,” he pats the mask on his head.

“Good.” She comes after him light and lilting. Little swats and rings of the surface of the blades scraping teach her enough of him. He absolutely learned heavily from Bruce.

“I should have known.” He barks out as she avoids him in an increasingly mocking way. Izzy even laughs just low enough to hear when she clips his attempts to drive her back as she skips the retreat in an almost bounce of her feet.

“You brought in a damn ringer didn't you?” Barbara clicks her tongue while shaking her head. Against the wall next to Jason, she still smiles about it. If there’s one thing Richard Grayson is, it’s a born and bred showman who values hard work making something look easy. As frustrated as he may get, it may only help the bonding of this girl who seems to have tamed a layer of anger off of his impulsive younger brother.

“Yeah I did,” Jason snickers into a chuckle as Izzy dodges past Dick only to clap him on the ass with the blade.

“That's out of bounds!” He gasps.

“Yeah it is. You should even out your physique if you don't want it to be a target.” She clicks her tongue and laughs tauntingly.

“That's it.” He comes around faster, using his larger frame to his advantage.

She waited for this. Taking to the balls of her feet, she matches and surpasses his speed. He even comes in low with an attack that she has to round-off leap over.

Measured head stable, but eyes inside the mask flicking to openings she only takes hits to give them back firmer or in more frustrating places. The rough breath from Dick starts Jason laughing low until he notices Barbara covering her mouth. He takes it as advice just as Izzy clearly flicks a nipple with the tip of the saber.

Dick drops his sword arm when he reaches to cover it with the opposite hand and she takes the other as a matched set. Tweaked just, if it were a naked blade, Jason can just imagine the damage.

As it is he almost crows when Dick pulls the mask off in a rage.

“What the fuu-dging hell!” He wipes at his face with his arm, “that's not regulation play at all!”

“Duels aren't allowed in regulation.” Izzy removes her helmet one handed, and tucks the whole thing under her arm.

“I didn't know that you knew that.” Dick laughs it off and runs a hand through his hair before leaving the foil poked and propped between two pads. A hand extends to her and she tosses the blade to her left hand.

“And I'm not even right handed.” She smirks with a tilt of her head into the handshake.

“Oooh… oh snap.” Jason holds up a fist to Barbara. She pounds it.

“That's your girl.” She raises a hand at Izzy as he pushes off the wall.

“Yeah, that's my girl!” He sweeps Isolde’s small form up in a spinning hug, and she can’t help but laugh at the openness of that smile.

“Careful of the blade, handsome.” She warns as he sets her down, “I don't want to lose any bits nor pieces of all of this.”

He sweeps back little stray pieces of hair that escaped the braids.

“Did he wreck my hair?” She narrows her eyes as she reaches to smooth it.

“Want me to kill him for you?” He offers with a lift of his brows.

“Not just yet. He’s interesting.” She gets a frustrated look on her face, “is he? Are they all this…”

Izzy's face drains of color as she sets her hand to her forehead.

“Is she okay?” Barbara asks before Izzy's knees go a little weak. Bruce stands at his screen down in the bat cave, the rest of the family arrayed around him. Duke hands Tim a handful of cash, and Tim passes half of it to Cass.

“I need to go.” Izzy flicks the uniform open at the neck to breathe. Then she leaves Jason holding the sword as she walks awkwardly back to the smoking room where she left her dress.

Her back against the door, breath refusing to slow she mutters while counting her fingers, “They're all bats. Are they all bats?”

-----

“You still look pale. Are you sure that you're okay?” he hands her a glass of water, looking sheepish.

“I don't know why I didn't catch the holes in the story. I just thought you went after your mom and it didn't really make sense why someone wouldn't just ransom you if it was because of Bruce.” She rubs her brow hard with her cold fingers from the glass, “and most people don't hunt down people who wrong them but I didn't know if you expected it from Bruce because it's rich people shit. Fuck.”

“It wasn't my place to out them. Those are their secrets but I doubt Dick would have agreed to the duel if he had a problem with you knowing,” Jason tries to reason with her and she nods.

“I understand that. I just feel stupid for not seeing it sooner. There's the whole crew and it explains three prepubescent Robins better than anti-aging magic although that also exists in green glowing pits somewhere!” She raises a hand at him, “fuck are you going to stay looking like this while I get all saggy and wrinkly?!”

“Well, first of all, judging by your mom, you have some time for that.” Jason quips with a twinkle in his eye.

She shoots him a look over the rim of the glass.

“Too far? I thought it might make you laugh… no I will actually slowly age unless I go back there and keep taking dips.” He leans on the pool table at his hip as she swings her legs a little from her seat on it.

“And you're not stupid.” He sighs and rubs her back as she sets the empty glass down on the edge, sparing the felt. “You're amazing. You tweaked his damn nipples!”

She starts laughing and sets her arm on his, inviting a hug he desperately wants. Her arms cross behind his neck and he kisses her cutely on the nose.

“And clapped him on that dummy thicc wagon of his” she cackles.

“Oh god I fucking love you.” he heaves out in a deep breath.

“You what?” She gets a hand on either side of his face before an odd laugh starts in her throat.

“I…” he freezes, then shrugs a shoulder before clearing his throat, “I have feelings and they're-”

“I have them too.” She catches those green eyes and admits it, “That’s the secretest nastiest kink…”

“Wait with that look, on the bus?” He puzzles, wrinkles curving up over his forehead before she kisses it.

“Yeah, I love you too, you big goofball.” the way she kisses him, soft and a little open, recalls the first time they did.

They went to the bookstore and then diner for dinner and showing her something in his book across the table, she went for it before he could. He melts into it here in a way he didn't have time for then. She keeps kissing like that, flush lips plying his with just enough pressure.

He breaks it only to start it back the way he wanted to then. Hungry yes, he kissed her with passion since. Back then he simply wanted to give the same smooth softness back. This time she makes the sweetest little moan in her throat. He pauses it to hug her closer and try to recognize it in her eyes. She breathes roughly against him, mouth open slightly in that dark red she coated them in tonight.

His hand works gently clawing fingers into her thigh as his nose nuzzles hers.

“Is this canoodling?” Damian asks sharply with a lifted hand from the hall before Dick grabs him by the back of his shirt.

“We told you to leave them alone.” The eldest brother states flatly as the youngest swings and tries to pry his way out of the hold.

“No! Grayson! I need to ask about the iguana!” Damian howls.

“They know about Cactus?” Izzy asks, still in a bit of a haze.

“Yeah… I told Roy not to spill that part too soon.” Jason sweeps back his hair a bit and sighs deeply, “I assume we're done with the making out for now.”

“Right here? Yes. But I promised you something not classy and we have an hour or two before I need to get home.”

“Look, I know I look like a sure thing but I need way more time than that to do things properly.” He chuckles as she drops herself back, covering her head with her arms.

“Baby, I did not mean that but now I'm curious and need to carve out some designated space in my calendar.” She makes a little whoop noise as he hikes her hips closer and then lifts her back up to vertical in a spin before setting her down carefully.

“Call me baby again?” He asks, nose to nose with her.

-----

“Whooo baby! YES!” She jumps on his back before he can stand up straight, “that's my man!”

Her hand up in the air in a fist, she holds on tightly with her legs and flails to catch his shoulders. He teeters a little and laughs before he can twist and get an arm around her

“Perfect score!” She stretches with both arms up in the air, “my man is the master of skeeball!”

“Alright, alright. I think they get it now.” He smiles so wide she can't contain hers either as she kisses the apple of his cheek, “remember how tight these pants are.”

“Oh, did we rip when I jumped on you there?” She cringes nose to nose with him.

“No but if you keep calling me your man I might,” he wiggles a little adjusting himself as he sets her down. Looking far too dressed up for the seaside arcade, they classed it up by making their tickets into accessories. Izzy sports a feathered boa of them and Jason a flower boutonnière as they scramble to get to the prize case.

Looking over the animals up top she starts laughing, “you know what would be funny?”

He still thinks about the kiss on the front porch steps, how he traded a couple of hours of something sexier for something fun. Saying he loved her came spilling out but this shows how he meant it. He wants her around just to talk to, and mess around with without messing around messing around.

“Yo Dami! You still up?” He asks as the elevator doors open into the bat cave, “Izzy said she doesn't have much time for her lizard what with classes and all and-”

“I will take him!” His younger brother reaches up his hands and turns the chair around just in time to see him throw it like a football.

“No! You dumb oaf with your-” he catches it, hands out and shirking away from imagined claws, “big dumb face.”

The scowling pout on the youngest of the bat family could be framed. It could be hung in a museum of the most sublime betrayal and frustration.

“And that's my phone background for-” Jason pauses at the photo of Izzy looking up at him with a stack of books in her arms, “or just the group chat…”

He brings it up only to have the phone whipped out of his hand by a stuffed iguana's tail.

“What the fuck?!” He growls as Damian catches the flying object one handed, lizard stuffy tucked under the other arm.

“Now now now, I wonder who the last person you sent a text communication was…” the kid narrows his eyes at the screen, thumb hovering over it.

“You give that back right now you little gremlin!” Jason sets off after him.

Braids down, combing fingers through her hair, Izzy leaves the dress hanging on the outside of her door. When she got home she lamented the waste of cute underwear for a few minutes, until she propped up her phone and tested a few things out. She hears the notification before she has a chance to send anything.

[We can not canoodle anymore.] [I am sorry.] [my butt stinks too much and I am embarrassed.] follow one after another from Jason.

[Damian?] She guesses quickly based on what Jason told her, and the stuffed iguana plan she and her boyfriend formed together.

[No, this is Jason.] [Damian smells like a field of lavender.] he replies quickly from a swinging upside-down perch on one of the acrobat style swings in the cave. His bigger yet not oldest brother curses a blue streak below him.

[If you give Jason back his phone I will bring my iguana to family dinner next week and you can hold him the entire time.]

[That is acceptable.] [for Damian.] [If he can also keep the toy iguana.]

She laughs at the last one [We got it for him so of course.] [We used up almost all of the tickets on it, remember?]

[Yes. I do.] [My butt still stinks despite that.]

[Tell Damian that Cactus the iguana says goodnight] she tries again with a photo of Cactus in a tiny cowboy hat.

[Goodnight Cactus.] [And goodnight also to Isolde.] [I will return the phone to Jason now.] He responds, then drops his toy lizard first and then himself into his brother's arms.

“Alright, what's the damage?” Jason asks.

“No damage. She will bring me Cactus and we will be friends.” Damian sets the phone in Jason's shirt pocket and then flips out of his big brother’s arms.

“The iguana or Isolde?” Jason tries to get clarity, as he checks the phone only to find Damian long gone and the bat cave empty. He chuckles low at the conversation as he wanders to the elevator.

[I think it worked] he sends the video of it flying through the air to Damian. It sets a smile on his face as the doors close, until he notices the screen. With the duel paused on it, and other screens below or around with information about his girlfriend and her family.

Even the photo she sends after can't entirely cut the irritation creeping up his spine. It comes close though.

Chapter 6: Set Fire to Your Lizard

Summary:

Keeping Isolde apart from the Waynes may be impossible, but for now, Jay soaks in all the time he can get alone with her.

CW: cozy smut

Jason shows up late for family dinner the next night. He answers in grunts or one word replies before walking through and straight out of the kitchen with only a hand on Alfred's shoulder. Between the other kids and their needs, he slips out this time without much notice.

At one point, Tim bothered him as a replacement. Then the rest slightly, turn by turn. Now there's a comfort in getting his own privacy, his own space. With his dog on a leash, he texts with Izzy and Roy in turn with a cigarette hanging from his lip. He runs hot most of the time so a tank top and hooded sweatshirt with jeans and flip flops works until she shows up.

“Did you steal one of my hoodies when I wasn't looking?” he remarks, enjoying how petite she looks in comparison.

“Nope. This is old,” she adjusts her bag on her shoulder, “stolen from an ex.”

“Coming in another man's sweatshirt. That's a bold move.” He raises an eyebrow as she draws closer.

“Oh I never came in or around anything of his. That's why he's an ex.” She states smoothly as she crouches to pet the dog.

“Good… or not good,” he corrects as she pulls an incredulous glance up at him, “you obviously should have, often, but if you did then maybe you'd still be with him.”

“Naw, he was an asshole on top of it.” She dryly adds, “hated Cactus, spooked him so bad it detached his tail and that was it.”

“What an amature. You got respect the iguana.”

“Respect anything weaker than you, or less fortunate.” She takes his hand with a cuter glance.

“And now we get to the real reason you're dating me.” He follows as the dog does, back to his place in a winding way, “clearly I'm just a charity case and you're slumming it.”

“That's what they say about me with you, as if my incredible head game has nothing to do with it.” Izzy jokes dryly but there's a tinge of hurt there. The official gossip toned down since the double date with Dick and Babs, but not the unofficial stuff. She told Audra that she didn't want to see it or hear it anymore. Unfortunately then her sister Phoebe started digging into it here and there. As the eldest sibling, she guesses being taken down a notch on occasion is something she has to put up with like Dick does.

“I won't lie and say that it's not a consideration,” he swings her hand trying not to dwell on the garbage and failing. Between that and Bruce still clearly looking into her after claiming that he wouldn't, “you're not charity.”

“I know. I bought the snacks.” She lifts her bag as he gets the door.

“With that and your head game, what else could a boy want?” He unhooks the dog's leash, sending her pattering over to the water bowl.

“I don't know. You tell me, handsome.” She sets the bag on the counter and leans back against the kitchen island as he comes in for a hug.

“I want you out of that sweatshirt.” His voice paces slower and she narrows her eyes at him.

“What if I get cold?” She reaches for the zipper.

“Trust me. I have better for you.” He holds out a hand for it as she slips it off her shoulders. Draping it on that wide palm, she looks up at him with a set of her jaw and sharpness of her eye.

Standing there in a long-sleeved tight black henley T-shirt, she challenges, “Well?”

He tosses it, without looking into the sink. Then, without taking his eyes off of her, unzips his own. She quirks a little side smile that widens as she tries to look away. Instead her eyes draw back to him as he swings and drapes it over her shoulders like a cape. His smirk as she threads her arms into the sleeves really sells it.

“This is nice and warm. Preheated even,” she laughs, “definitely an upgrade.”

“I bet it thinks so too. You look better in it than I do.” He grazes his thumb on her cheek and she leans into it zipping herself into the faded red almost pink of it that matches the flush of her cheeks.

“Well that is high praise because you look damn good in it.” She tests the pockets only to press the lighter and pack of cigarettes against his chest after she finds them.

“I know. It's a dirty habit and I should quit.” He sighs.

“I barely ever smell it or taste it on you. It's up to you. If it helps, it helps.” Izzy insists with a little adjustment of the shirt on her shoulders, “now what are you going to do with that one?”

Her faded blue hoodie from a guy long given up on, sits balled up in the stainless steel sink.

“Give it a proper send off.” He crushes the pack of cigarettes and tosses them on it, then lights the corner of the package all one handed. The other tracks down her arm where it wraps around his waist.

“Super proper...” She rolls her eyes with another little laughing sigh, “you really didn't like it that much?”

“I like you, and you shouldn't need some asshole's hoodie, just this asshole’s hoodie.” He smirks before a tight mocking little kiss.

“Mmm, top tier asshole.” She squeezes the hug tighter.

“Only the best for my girl.”

“Mmmm,” she wiggles in a little shiver, “I still like the sound of that.”

“My girl?” His brow raises as he sets the lighter down on the counter. He draws her face up and into another kiss, “well, you are my girl, right?”

“Mhm, entirely.” She answers playfully with her lips.

“Good. Then we're going to break into those snacks, read, or watch something while the rest of the world shuts the fuck up.” He insists, nose to nose with her.

“And fool around a little?”

The fire alarm starts up, and he pulls the cover and battery off.

“If you play your cards right…” the smile curves to the scarred side, “behave yourself.”

“I'm not the one lighting things on fire.” Izzy follows his lips like a lost kitten, standing on tip toe to reach.

“That's not true. Your kisses started it with me.” He nibbles at her lower lip softly.

“How rude of them.” She smiles, stealing it from him again as he passes his hands down the warm soft leggings that hug her ass too well. Lip tucked in, she considers whether this may not go that way, whether she'll ever own another exboyfriend's hoodie.

“What can I say, I love a well earned attitude.” He replies with his own and a backing off to look at her fully in his shirt now.

“We have that in common.” She holds her hands out palm down, and he takes them by the fingers to walk her back towards the couch.

Sundays worked better for dates. At first they went out to places for lunch, or a movie here and there. Then she mentioned looking forward to breakfast food at the diner leading up to one. Then that happened more and more. Now she lays out on his couch, upper body draped across his lap like a blanket, reading between peeks up at him doing the same. Whenever she catches his eyes on her, she tilts her head and gets that look on her face again.

He snickers the one time and she drops her book to her chest.

“Stop being cute and I'll stop looking.” She sticks her tongue out at him and he stops the soft circles his thumb kept making around her belly button.

“I'll try my best but I clearly can't help it.” He purses his lips a little, “besides I think it's your fault for looking.”

“The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only…” she pokes the book from below.

“God you're such a nerd.” He snorts slightly, unable to stop the smiling while shaking his head, “quoting me Les Mis as I'm reading it?”

“Mhm,” she replies with an even softer look at him when he moves the bookmark coupon, “and you're a nerd for enjoying it.”

He works his jaw sullenly.

“A hidden nerd. A soft romantic trying to look mean.” She reaches up and pushes at his chin half-heartedly.

“I am mean.” He petulantly purses his lips, but his brow stays soft.

“Not to everyone you aren't. Not to me.” She shifts her body, cheek resting on his thigh. Like this, the curve of her side fits like a puzzle piece over the curve of it.

“Like I have said before, you scare the shit out of me.” He admits with a brush of her hair back from her forehead.

“Big scary five foot tall Isolde with the princess name and a dirty mouth…” she rolls her eyes.

“I'm glad you understand.” He mocks a little with that first, “but you didn't mention your skill with a sword.”

“Yeah but we can't just carry those around everywhere, not normally anyway. Campus security guidelines strictly forbid it.” She sneers through the last sentence.

“Not if you have an athletic exception.” He lands a point that he kept thinking about more and more as her presence felt more necessary. She snorts a breath out of her nose and starts sitting up slowly.

“Good luck on that front. The university has already tried asking and my dad is not having it.” Izzy scowls softly until she notices how sorry he looks. He can’t possibly know how weird her parents are about their previous life.

“I just thought that you'd be safer that way. He doesn't worry about you at all?” Jason works his jaw lightly, eyes still rounded and soft on her.

“He does, excessively so. He just doesn't want us getting into the sport, having it affect our grades or our idea of what makes someone successful or some other bullshit.” She shrugs small and defeated with only half of the reasons, “I love a good fight but that's one I'm never going to win.”

Standing up, she brushes herself off and then cuddles her hands into the pockets of his stolen hoodie, “besides, I'm clearly scary enough without it. I haven't been mugged, or even attempted in over a month. It's like a new record or something. Usually I would at least have gotten an ass grab or three.”

As she roams into the kitchen, she flicks on the water in the sink to wash the ashes from before down the drain, “maybe some masked hottie is going soft on his crime lord status.”

“Or maybe he told people that you were off limits.” He answers, using the back of the couch to lift himself to standing.

“They know? Isn't that more dangerous?” She wrinkles her nose as she goes up on tiptoe for a glass in the cabinet.

“They don't know what you are, just that you're part of the organization, or the community.” He clarifies as he follows out to check the fridge over her shoulder.

“So I'm a professional girlfriend now?” Her slight laugh to playful banter gets a hand settled on her hip as she comes up with the orange juice.

“Something like that.” He keeps looking for food as she shifts back over to pour.

“Did you want a glass?” She asks lightly.

“No, thanks. I hate the stuff with the pulp. It's like drinking a texture that I'm more accustomed to throwing up.” He explains as he grabs a box of Chinese leftovers.

“But you buy the kind with pulp…” she tilts the carton to read it just to make sure.

“Yeah, because you like it.” He starts eating pieces of chicken, picked out of the container with his bare hands.

“I guess that's my girlfriend paycheck huh? Extra pulpy orange juice and less unwanted groping.” Her smug little look as she squeezes in to return the carton does it again for him.

“I love you.” He allows it out.

“For my silly yapping? You poor, poor man.” She pats his face, and takes an offered bite of chicken from his fingers.

“And here I thought I was some spoiled rich boy playing make believe in the slums.” He raises his brow playfully.

“No, you came from here, like me,” She snuggles in with arms around him, “and they can set some image of success that doesn't include here, but you know what I say to that?”

“What?” He asks with a widening smile.

“Fuck em.” She leaves a kiss on his chest before retrieving her juice and grabbing a bag of chips.

-----

“You're oddly cool with this. You're sure it's not too girly romantic for you?” Izzy snuggles her butt into his lap as she watches the mock regency drama play out.

“Maybe I am a hidden soft little nerd down deep,” he replies, gladly rewatching Bridgerton as if it's his first time.

“Maybe your DVR gave you away when you thought that I wasn't looking.” She teases.

“You sneaky little…” he pauses, “nope I can't get mad at you for that.”

“But imagine the rumors I could spread about the vicious Red Hood and his love of rom coms. Your reputation might suffer.” She rubs her shoulder into the nice groove between the arm and pec of her boyfriend.

“It won't matter. I've made too many references to them already. They know I'll still shoot a man in the dick when it's necessary.” He scoots a little further out in the chair to lean back more with her, “are you comfy?”

“Yeah,” she sighs and holds up a cheese puff for him.

“Good,” He takes it carefully, crunching away at it before he broaches the subject, “family dinner, next week.”

“Yeah, what about it?” She keeps one eye on the show but spares some of her focus.

“You still don't have to. Damian will get over it. Besides he's spoiled rotten as is,” he crafted excuses in his head all through the day yesterday. Between scaring some stupid kids out of forming a new gang, and the meal he skirted through, the watching of her bothered him more and more.

“It's okay. I promised, and Cactus could use an excursion. I feel like I'm neglecting him a little with how much I'm out with you and classes lately.” She says quickly, “are you worried for a reason? Or is it just the whole Wayne family beef my dad keeps tenderizing?”

“That doesn't help.” He admits softly watching families navigate their relationships in tandem with new ones forming on the show in front of them, “I don't know. There's just so many of them, and so much going on at any one time. I kind of prefer when I'm not the center of attention.”

“And I bring the spotlight squarely on you…” she toys with the opening of the bag with her finger.

“I guess.” He sighs, “when I do, it's rarely for anything good. I'm not used to it going well, even if I think it's something really good.”

“Well, I have an answer for that.” She offers, still a little shaky about it.

“And what's that?” He leans over her shoulder and leaves a kiss on her beauty mark.

“Fuck em.” She smiles and glances back at him, “just fuck all of them as long as we're okay?”

“You need to stop or I'm going to feel like a big fucking simp saying I love you multiple times a day.” He hugs her tightly around her middle with the big arms she enjoys so much.

“Maybe that's what I want, a big beautiful simpy man who threatens to kill people who wrong me and buys the pulpy orange juice.” She kisses his jaw when he snuggles it nearer.

“And makes sure that you orgasm while respecting your lizard.” He brings it back to the sweatshirt banter in the morning.

“Ha, yeah…” she glances up at him, “that really bothered you? Me having an ex’s thing?”

“Not that much. I just don't like to think about you being with someone else,” he admits shyly next to her ear with a kiss.

“Well you will have to be okay with one item I can't part from.” She squeezes his thigh.

“Hm?”

“Cactus. He's a hold over from the first guy I dated. His family had to move suddenly, and my poor little dragon almost got left behind at a shelter.” she squeezes his thigh.

“So no lighting him on fire in the sink?” He chuckles low in his throat until she pauses the show and glares at him over her shoulder.

“I wouldn't! I don't do animals, I swear Izzy.” He watches the way she looks from eye to eye, assessing him.

“You'd better not.” She tucks her lips in cutely as he keeps the puppy dog eyes and long face through it, “or I'll set your lizard on fire.”

“Already have,” he goes half lidded, close nosed.

“Ewww” she flattens her mouth and flares her nostrils.

“With lustful passion…” He goes after her neck as she laughs.

“God you're such a dork,” she struggles gently against his arms before sighing against the feeling of his nose against her pulse point, “I love you.”

“Good. Because of that idiot ever comes back for you or Cactus, I will be forced to protect my girl.” He nibbles in a way that makes her laugh again and squirm a little, “make it clear where she belongs.”

“With her man,” she reaches up behind her and holds him in by his head.

“Mhm,” he affirms, blowing warm breath through his nose against her skin as his hands work up under the sweatshirt, “all hers, surrendering…”

“A lord on his knees…” she twists to meet his mouth, drawing on the poem she wrote about him.

“Unless they hurt you, harm you.” He opens her lips with his and takes a kiss that crumbles her heart only to rebuild in its wake, "then god help them the carnage I'll cause.”

“if they dare to harm you in response,” she answers climbing around to straddle him, “you won't be alone in it.”

“They won't know what hit them,” he enjoys the sly smile across her lips before kissing flat and firm on them. Pushing up and out of the chair, he stands, holding her tightly against him, “I sure as fuck didn't.”

Carried into the bedroom, she plies him with searching kisses, tugging at his mouth hungrily.

“You woke me up, and I thought that I was still dreaming…” he rumbles in his throat as her thighs squeeze his sides, “those eyes…”

“The power of a glance, huh…” she murmurs into his lips.

“You could kill a man with yours,” he brings her down onto the bed, arm up her back to soften the contact.

“Or make life worth living? Maybe?” She toys with his hair and kisses the scar on his face.

“Definitely,” he breathes out as she takes his ear with gentle teeth and then tongue.

“Good,” she gasps gently as he grinds into her growling a little in his throat. She can't think as his hands climb up her sides. Her breath catches rough when a thumb passes over her breast.

“Fuck I can't get enough of you like this,” he spills out roughly as he moves her further onto the plush surface.

She tugs on his shirt where it wraps over his shoulders, then pulls at it up from his waist. When he rises to strip it off she sits up and shakes off the sweatshirt. Peeling off her top, she falls back as his hands flow up under it to help.

She uses his frame to pull herself up to writhe against him at times. He uses it to press her deep into the covers. Her fingernails catch on the faint occasional scar as he cups her breasts in turn, hot air and tongue taking them gently and rough from breath to breath. The light little bra gave some resistance until he pushed down a cup with his face and went after them anew.

“Jay,” she calls out when his hand starts pushing her leggings down off of her hip.

“Mmm?” He questions through a kiss.

“I need you.” She spills it out like a fast dirty secret.

A groan echoes through his nose and both hands tug the pants down, then off of her.

“Please,” she begs through the next kiss, reeling as his mouth explores the skin of her stomach. Her little hips push up towards him and he hooks his arm around them to hold them firm.

“Shhh,” he works his pants open one handed while looking her over, “it's okay princess...”

Disheveled, hair spread around her face, Isolde’s mouth gaps open slightly, face flushed to match her lips. He meant to tell her that he wouldn't make her wait too long. He meant to say that he has her, won't leave her. It comes in rough kisses instead of words. It comes in the roll of his hips and grab of his hands sliding the silky underwear under fingertips he feels but barely controls. Against her, with her, only two layers of fabric as a wall between, he might as well be in a trance with the way she moves.

“Isolde,” he moans her name against her face, and for once it doesn't feel lame. It feels like he needs her and her hands seek out the only grip left around the waistband of the short boxer briefs he wears.

When he pulls them down from the back, she still claws for them until he caps her mouth with another rough kiss.

“I need you.” He says it, sending shivers up her spine.

Her underwear pulled down with teeth makes her laugh and she rolls over to crawl away as they pass down her legs. But she turns back to kiss him as he climbs deeper into the bed to catch her. Grabbed at the hips, he lifts her and sends her sprawling back in a spin, laughing again.

“Stay down.” He growls with a little smile in her face.

“Make me.” She pushes hers closer, faintly catching lips on his. Her legs draw him closer, and he reaches for the drawer with the condoms even though his body screams out to do what she just challenged him to do.

Rolled on, and ready, he catches her eye when his lift to hers again. She rises on her arms and holds his neck into a deep kiss. Backed down onto the mattress with the wiggle of his thighs pushing under hers more, she breaks the kiss with a gasp of his name.

He meets up with her, drives gently forward with his hips into the union of their bodies. Holding her thigh up, he rolls his hips into it as she draws his mouth into kisses to match the flow.

“oh god,” she gasps with a gentle claw of her nails over his shoulders. Eye to eye, she slowly closes hers against the feeling of him inside of her. Moving slow and fluid, he jostles her thighs against him when she loses grip with them. She rejoins on every push deep into her, holding it, only to let him go.

Hands spread on his chest, pushing back, she moans and he feels the start of the swell around him. It rises deliciously as he trades kisses with her. When hers gap, mouth open, he pushes up into her firmer.

“There we go baby.” He smiles and she forms claws with her fingers on his chest, “there we go princess…”

He coaxes deeply, lips poised just off of hers.

“Come on Isolde. Come on your man's cock,” he purrs into her ear, “I know you can. I know you wanted to. You wrote to me, about me.”

Her heels dig in to keep him a second or two longer at full depth.

“Jay,” she gasps, “fu- god!”

“Call out for me like you did on your fingers.” He teases as she stretches and her arms pass over his collar bone on either side of his neck, “you wanted this… dreamed about it…”

“Nnnnn, Jay!” She shakes, arching up to press breasts into his chest.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he encourages her, “tight like that, getting what you want, what you deserve.”

Her arms slip down again as she rides the peak, his eyes combing down her body.

“You should get to cum every day, all day,” he tells her as he moves her through it, walks his thighs into it. Lifting her into his arms, he holds her up on him. Recovering, she kisses back, shaking.

“Fuck,” she blinks before moving her nose around his and catching another kiss, “god damn baby.”

“Fuck you are ride, aren't you?” She asks as her one hand passes down and stops on his pec.

He breaks a kiss that she smiles out of as she studies his mouth carefully. Then she starts rolling her abs into it. Using the hand on him to push against she takes him like this with his weight sitting back and his mouth hanging open for her.

“Jason,” she looks at his lips like they hold answers, only to lift her eyes to his with hers looking full of them.

“Red Hood” she sneers a little, “Tell me. If he fights with all that he has…”

Jason's eyes roll and she kisses just under his lower lip as he moans.

“Then what does he fuck with?” She smiles at the almost exasperated look he shoots her. His hand pulls her ass into the motion harder as he grunts a little.

Nose to nose with him, pushing more force into it, she insists, “I want it all.”

Isolde hangs back and moves with the timing of his hand as it grips and releases. His other arm holds her around her ribs keeping her up on him, “come on baby, give me all of it.”

“Catch up to me.” She scrunches her shoulders as she edges, swelling around him again, gripping his cock, “come on baby…”

She coaxes him like he did her. Her mouth opens with his groaning in front of her.

“Fuck you're pretty when you cum.” She bites her lip and succumbs with a harder bucking motion into him. He wobbles slightly, grabs harder around her torso and grips her ass as he finishes in a hard whine through his nose. Holding on to her, panting, his hand slides down her thigh as it shudders.

“You're prettier.” He pulls her deeper into his arms, biceps locking her in on him.

“Psh, that's the sex talking.” She squeezes with her thighs and pulls herself closer with her calves on his ass, heels tucked under it.

“Mmm, no. Shit you're so beautiful.” He murmurs into kisses on her shoulder. Then he touches her hair as he sweeps it off of the other for more. She holds her hands on his chest and closes her eyes into it, goosebumps spreading.

“Was that okay, your majesty?” He teases into kisses on her neck.

“I think you know it was.” She says with a sigh and a stretch as he lowers her to her back again.

Chapter 7: A Time For Every Purpose

Summary:

Settling into a relationship in an unsettled neighborhood and family, connections start coming together

Izzy walked in on some kind of family meeting between her parents in the kitchen. More accurately, she overheard part of it on her way down the hall. Searching for property for the bakery, they met up with enough issues.

“I know you like the boy but there's enough to deal with as is.” Her father complained.

“It's fine. They're fine. There's nothing to suggest anything untoward,” her mother protested.

“They're young and rash and-”

They both paused when she passed the door with her hand dragging through her hair. Somehow sure that they must know what she and her boyfriend just did, Izzy leaves it be. They can do the concerned parent thing as far as they need to tonight.

“See, she's fine. He's not going to suddenly know when she doesn't even know.” Noelle lifts a hand at the empty doorway, “we'll liquidate the last of it and make an offer on one of the three.”

Moving close to him, she pats his chest with her fingertips, “besides the streets are all tied up in other things. We may have finally gotten some decent luck.”

“You know I can't be that optimistic this close to the end. That's where things always fall apart.” Mark touches her cheeks, carefully brushing her hair back to expose the delicate scar on her jaw.

“I remember too, how close we keep coming to losing everything.” She touches his fingers over where he touches it.

“this place will eat our girl's alive too if we're not careful.” he warns one more time.

“all the more reason why we need to take this opening.” She kisses him on the cap of his chin before sending him upstairs as she shuts down the kitchen.

“Izzy?!” He waits until the second floor, where he kicks off his shoes to call for his daughter. Fast up the incline, she made it into her room and in her headphones already. He finds her pulling her hair up into a ponytail. Functionally a mirror of her mother, still her highlights after sunny seasons tend more russet or golden like his hair does.

She bounces on her toes to some unheard beat and he imagines not having this, or having her with less resources. He wonders what the struggle would have made of his daydreamer and the dragon she feeds scraps of food from the store. Hanging from a branch she dragged from the park and begged him to secure to the wall, Cactus turns his head towards Mark and she finally notices him.

Taking one side off of her ear, Izzy smiles tightly, “Did you need something?”

“No, just checking in on you.” He clears his throat.

“I'm good. Earlier class tomorrow, econ.” She pushes her lower lip out slightly.

“Not your favorite, I know but…”

“Still useful,” she says it with him then, “I know. I'm giving it my all and when you're ready I'll be ready to help with that and marketing and the rest.”

“It's not literature though…” he rests his shoulder against the doorframe, still on the outside looking into her space.

“Not much is but while stories are what drives us, they certainly don't pay us.” She mimics his voice standing up taller and thinner as if she can match his frame.

“Yeah well, not everything has to be about being paid.” He repeats her argument back to her. She screamed it at him once and slammed the door in his face after.

“Then we're agreed,” she lifts a hand towards him “there's a time for every purpose under heaven.”

“Speaking of time. Any chance that Jason might be available on Friday again?” The loose move of her father's shoulders makes her feel better about the talk she overheard downstairs.

“As long as family business doesn't pop up, probably? I can ask him.” Izzy reaches for her phone where she tossed it on the bed before.

“I'd appreciate it,” Mark drums his fingers on the moulding around the door a bit as she types with a soft smile on her face, “you know you can talk to us, your mom and I right? Even with the animosity from before, even if it's good things?”

“I know. It's good right now. We're good. Nothing really to report.” She moves her headphones with an expectant look.

“Yeah, I figured. I'll let you get back to winding down before bed. Door closed?”

“Yeah,” she nods and watches her father reach in for the handle and step back to leave her to her own thoughts.

-----

On the bus Jay holds out an ear bud and they spend the time listening to songs that he thought that she'd like. They separate to sit at desks and make it through the quiz faster than the rest of the class. She tries to stop looking at him during the wait. Every time he sports the goofiest little look and she has to cover her mouth to not laugh out loud.

On the return trip, she really curls up, shins tucked tight to his thigh. He keeps her warmer as the temperature drops. She keeps his hands warm tucked in under the waistband of her skirt on her front porch.

Between classes and family responsibilities they only catch the off phone call or text incessantly through until Thursday night where she meets him out at a club. Let in with Eve and Audra, and even Audra’s boyfriend Jack despite the irritated look of the bouncer. Giving Jason's name, and then hers eased the snooty look. Going up on her tiptoes and pointing out and guests after her name cemented it when she stared them down on top of it.

Loud and somewhat crowded, she strained to look over people to find him. Sending off little flickers of light from the halter top dress she found thrifting ages ago, she danced part of the way around, dropping her old beat up leather jacket off of her shoulders as she went.

[Drunk- Maggie Rogers]

A sharp whistle cuts through enough of the music as she bounces her shoulders. Eyes up towards a corner VIP section, Jason signals to her before mouthing ‘stay there’. She makes a little come here gesture with both hands, and shakes her hips to the song in reply.

People allow him through far smoother than they did her. Tall and focused like a hawk, he comes down the short steps after the velvet rope. Seeing her take her hand up away from an over friendly guy, Jason speeds up his gait. Her arm up, she folds them both up over her head and steps with the swing of her hips to the beat. The man from before tries to move in and dance with her. She shakes her head lightly and mouths sorry.

He shakes his head back at her and takes her hand again. Pulling her a step towards him he lifts fingers at her impatiently as if to say come on. She shakes her hand out of his again. Her friend Eve starts dancing closer and they turn attention to each other. The closed fist, thumb smoothing over his finger comes before he reaches out for Izzy’s shoulder this time.

Jason stares through him, passes where he can push the arm away and blocks her off from the contact. Seeing her boyfriend out of the corner of her eye, she turns to follow with and hug him around the neck as he bends down to reach her. Up to full height and with her hanging from him, both legs kicked up with her short boots on, he spares her a smile before shooting a death glare at the guy.

[Curious- big wild]

A slightly slower song, she sets her feet down and steps into moving her hips under his hands. His nose coming down to hers, she makes the cutest little face up at him. Holding onto his shirt, she transitions to touching up his chest. He simply stays with her in beat until the end of it. Not known for being out on the dance floor, people still give him room here. The few times he showed and took over a couch, the most he did was wave a girl up here and there. They already gave him enough attention just walking to the bar when he seldom did that either.

Now he kisses her on the beauty mark and gestures the way to her. Her friends follow and they chat between hopping back down to the dance floor here and there. Izzy stays with him, legs hooked over one of his on the couch as much as possible.

With her jacket shaken off, her exposed back and arms leave plenty of places to touch, especially whenever she sits up and dances in her seat on his thigh. Playing with him, tilting his chin up or holding his hand up to use as a kind of prop, he eats it up. Like having a pro or a paid escort in a way, it feels much better because she means it. She's not in it for some payout only to leave right after.

When she starts looking tired, he runs his fingers up the hollow next to her spine and suggests leaving in her ear. She uses his shoulders to stand, and sways her hips as she slips her jacket on a sleeve at a time. Then he turns them to the beat playfully before standing and lifting her up over his shoulder from there.

The little scream catches a few eyes, but she laughs after it. Saying bye to her friends, she cracks up when he turns so she can take a hand or wave.

On his bike, he hands her a spare helmet. She tweaks a finger on one of the subtle shapes painted to look like wings on it with a happy little purse of her lips.

“You like it?” He asks with a tilt of his head.

“Yeah,” she wrinkles her nose as he comes close to kiss it.

“It's yours.” He states simply, “I can't keep risking my angel if I'm going to be her primary ride.”

“My primary ride?” She raises an eyebrow, "Only ride, I'm not keeping a roster anymore sweetheart.”

Her hand on his face and stretching to place a kiss next to the wide smile might be the next gossip column picture but he doesn't mind. If people want to talk about him being kept, he might as well frustrate them with it. Plus the woman who takes his helmet off back at home, with a kiss to his neck seems like the natural choice.

She felt natural against him through the door laughing. Then Izzy took Dog out on her leash, standing under the overhang as the rain started up lightly. It turned over to a fine snowfall, and she came in looking for a towel for the puppy, then warmth for her.

Her hands were freezing up the back of his shirt. Her lips were chilly until they weren't with his breath. Up on the kitchen island, her hands warmed up fast, along with the rest of her. She even felt hot between her thighs after, sprawled over one of his in the bed.

He put on one of the songs again, mostly as a joke after he fell back on the bed with her. In his defense, after eating her out in the kitchen she handled his cock while talking about wanting to fuck him right there in the club. With music going, she moved like she did there only on top of him and around him. His hand fell to her thighs in the wake of it.

Then Izzy fell asleep on his chest, over his heart. If he didn't love her already, he'd have been done for when she reached to drag him back in when he slipped out of bed to take care of the dog in the morning. The pout, and then roll over killed him. Then the idea of disturbing the pretty picture of the blanket draping over her hip felt impossible as he sipped on a cup of coffee from the door.

In the shower, he stretches to touch the ceiling recalling parts of it fondly when her hands wrapped around his rib cage.

“Someone snuck out of bed without me…” she sounds pouty and sweet as his hands take to hers.

“What kind of asshole would do a thing like that?” He chuckles as she hugs him, pressing her breasts against his back.

“The kind of asshole who wanted me to sleep in, and miss just enough of my class to stay in…”

“It has been snowing on and off. Maybe he just wanted to keep you warm and safe?” He turns and draws her in under the water with him.

“Hmm, so thoughtful…” she narrows her eyes against the spray and slips her hands down the small of his back and further.

“I'm glad that you see it my way.” Jason shifts his weight as she gives his butt a heavier squeeze, “and that you enjoy my ass this much.”

“It's a solid ass. Not all prissy and pompous like your brother's.” She smiles before the kiss he delivers down to her.

“I don't know whether to be flattered that you like mine more, or concerned that you're so familiar with my brother's.” He finally takes in the view as she brushes her hair back off of her forehead back with both hands.

“The Internet is obsessed with your brother's ass, fucking rabid about it honestly. It's impressive really.” Izzy tilts her head at the doofy head tilted expression on him, “earth to Jay?”

“Sorry, you're just naked. I'm sorry I lost focus and yet also not. God damn! You're my girlfriend?” He asks, eyes drifting down and then back up. He even turns her bodily a bit and examines the back to ass curve with a low whistle as she laughs and swats at him.

“Alright, enough. Yes I'm your girlfriend and naked, but I need to wash my hair and ass before rushing off to class since the asshole’s best laid plans failed.” She reaches around him to grab the shampoo.

“Well, I know that when I'm not needed.” He lies and soaps up his hands to grope her butt as she washes her hair.

“And when you are apparently.” She peeks one eye open as he rubs her into her scalp with the shampoo deeply.

“Is that drool? Are you drooling?” He teases and she starts laughing and shielding her eyes as she spins to wash the it out.

“Oh shush. It's not the first time you caused that.” She shoots a sassy little look over her shoulder before climbing out to grab the only towel off the bar.

“Wait, shoot. Can you grab another from the laundry basket?” Jay raises his voice.

“I can… OR I can take your clothes, get dressed sitting on the corner of your bed, and wait for the eventual show.” She clicks her tongue, while scrunching her hair with the one she gnabbed.

“I thought you were in a hurry.” He laughs nervously as he finishes washing.

“I was but according to my phone, my first class got canceled.” She crows from the open door to the bathroom, “I'll get my singles ready.”

“With no underwear, where do you plan to stick them?” he muses.

“I have a few ideas…” she replies, starts humming then stops abruptly.

The silence doesn't worry him until she glances over at the figure standing in the bedroom doorway. Shirt held against the front of her, Izzy's eyes flick from one man to the other running through a series of actions she's not sure are better than freezing in place like this. At least she managed to get a pair of lace edged underwear on facing away before she thinks he got there.

“Roy, for fuck’s sake close your mouth and the door so Izzy can get dressed.” Jason grabs a hand towel to cover his sensitive bits, and then starts for the door.

“Wow…” His friend manages before he snaps back to focus then fear for his safety the way he should have already. Bumbling with the door handle he mumbles out a rushed apology before it closes, “sorry, she's hot, or sorry for forgetting to knock or assuming she wouldn't be here…”

“Sorry baby, he just acts like he lives here because sometimes he kind of does.” Jason rubs his brow lightly before taking in the view. Somewhere on the other side of the door Roy keeps talking about how she shouldn't feel ashamed and he still really respects her.

“Yeah…” she steps back and rests her weight against the dresser, “and backlit like that I couldn't tell it was him for a few seconds… I was debating whether to drop the shirt and throw the knife or risk the accuracy for keeping my modesty over my health or something.”

“You can throw knives too?” He adjusts the towel a little. Left out on the top of his dresser for exactly that kind of ease rests a small knife.

“A little, kind of, yeah,” she sticks out her jaw awkwardly, “I use it as a party trick or cheat people at darts sometimes with it.”

“Oop, he's awake for sure now.” He peeks down under the towel.

“That does it for you huh?” She laughs again and finally pulls the shirt on over her head.

“That and the tits, and underwear, and legs honestly…” he smirks as she hands him the big towel.

“Well this is nice too,” she points around in his direction, “if it wasn't for the sudden shock you wouldn't be the only one dripping wet right now.”

She dips to grab her jeans out of her bag and hears the exaggerated sigh as he dries himself off, “I am so stupidly fucking lucky… my god.”

Hopping into the jeans she gives him an amused little look.

“What, your butt was just peeking out with the edge of those showing. What is that color magenta or fuschia?” He approaches with a hand held even with her butt cheek.

“Magenta,” she turns to avoid it and sits on the bed to pull on her socks, “fuschia is more purply.”

“Are you sure? Could I see again to assess it for myself?” He teases as he opens the drawer to grab underwear for himself.

“Nope. You will just have to live with that uncertainty a while longer because my afternoon class is still on schedule, your friend is still apologizing through the door, and I'm starting to feel uncomfortable with how long this is taking him to snap out of.”

“Oh that's just Roy.” He climbs into his boxer briefs and pulls them up with a raised brow as her head tilts at him.

“What's good for the goose is good for a gander or two,” her head tilts the other way as he turns to have his back facing her and covers his nipples with his hands, “or more.”

“I am more than just a piece of meat, I will have you know.” He spits out playfully.

“Oh I know…” she stands and sweeps out the door with another lingering look at him. Twisting her hair up into a messy bun, she girds herself to face a flustered friend.

-----

“So it's like the same stretches as ballet and with that kind of squatting you get more of the bottom butt curve…” Isolde explains, pausing to take a long sip of her coffee while using that same butt against the cabinet to balance on her heels. She spares a nod at Jason when he wanders out with the puppy under one arm.

“Makes sense, and again mazel tov.” Roy raises his mug in her direction. When he reaches to pet the dog Jason moves her out of reach.

“She’s in timeout and needs to apologize to Izzy.” He grumbles.

“For what?” His girlfriend asks with a sad kind of pout.

“She dragged your underwear from yesterday out of your bag and tried to eat them…” he brings the dog, wagging tail and all, over to face responsibility.

“Awww,” Izzy scratches her head softly, “I am sure that she didn't mean it.”

“Oh she meant it with the growling and pathetic look when I took them away.” He hands her over after Izzy sets her coffee cup down.

“Takes after her dad like that. Don't you sweetheart?” She cuddles her close and lets her get a few cheek kisses in on her, “slobbers like him too.”

“I do not slobber. That is patently false.” He points while turning to get his own coffee set, “You were the one drooling in the shower.”

“Oh that is it. I'm taking your dog for a walk and we'll see if I bring her back.” She chuckles as she sets the wiggling creature down and makes for the door.

Roy smirks over his cup as Izzy slips on her short boots from last night. Even with her jacketed and out the door, he still stares at Jason with that smug grin barely hidden by sipping.

“Alright what?”

“You're sounding very married here.” his friend pokes at him verbally. Jason freezes for a second, holding the ‘takes after her dad’ comment in particular. It felt comfortable. Now it feels too exposed.

He makes a little throat cutting motion, then uses a search of the refrigerator to cover any expression he may let slip. This morning he could see spending the whole day with her, staying in with on and off snow flurries outside. Then he remembered the family dinner tomorrow night.

Friday snuck up on him.

“Protest all you want. She keeps you on your toes. Gives your yapping a run for its money.” Roy wraps his hands around his mug.

“Hm. Maybe, or maybe she'll get sick of it.” He tells himself not to sink too far into it, not to get too comfortable. No one wants him around long term. Only a matter of time, the next bullet wound or lack of routine without classes will remind her what she wished for is something no one else wants.

“Hm? Maybe, maybe not.” He scrolls his phone but keeps an eye on Jason's back. Accustomed to the funk, it cleared here and there yet never seemed to leave entirely.

Izzy comes back in humming to herself before touching her ear. Dog off the leash, boots kicked off, she patters over and offers an ear bud to Jason as he makes breakfast at the stove. Without a word he takes it, she sweeps her hand down his arm and wanders back towards the bedroom.

[Tie You Down- HAIM & Bon Iver]

Jason can't stop the little smile. She told him something with that, without saying it and embarrassing him in front of Roy. With her bag over her shoulder and her eyes lined sharply, Izzy goes up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Leaning into it, he turns to hug her and leave one on hers as he gives her back her earbud. Her hand coasts down his ass as he gives an awkward little twist of his smile.

“Call me later?” She asks.

“Yeah.” he replies and lets her go.

“What song was it?” Roy can't help his curiosity.

“Baby Got Back,” Jason lies, “You know for this LA face and Oakland booty.”

“How romantic.” Roy chuckles with a reach for the plate of eggs and bacon Jason hands him.

“Yup.” Jason starts in on his, still standing, “so who are we beating the shit out of today?”

“Not beating the shit out of, tailing, investigating.” Roy says with an exhausted lift of his hand.

“Bats drag you into this new drug thing too?” He works his jaw a little trying to stave off the irritation at the other investigation Bruce dipped his crusty old toes into. At least nothing came of it yet. No one poked or pestered him for more details about Izzy. He counts that as a win.

“Yeah, it has the hallmarks of a Nigma plan but he’s been reformed for years…” Roy stuffs in bites quickly, “and your siblings have school and adulting. So the boring shit is on us today.”

“Figures.” Jay responds with a deep drought of coffee, “where are we starting?”

“Ivy and Harley.” He answers.

Chapter 8: Mind Your Manors

Summary:

Wayne manor, and a family dinner full of navigating an old family feud drags out another layer of the issues keeping Bruce from his word not to meddle. Unprepared, Izzy protests and gives up a piece of the puzzle that only makes her more uneasy about her family's situation.

Alfred answers the door. Hand on it, his eyes track down from Jason to the young woman standing in front of him. Hands primly gathered on the handle of a canvas bag in front of her, Isolde Zervas gives a little wincing smile before holding it out.

“Hi, I didn't get a chance to thank you, for driving… or to introduce myself…” she tucks her hair back behind her ear and continues when he takes the offering, “I'm Isolde and that's as many different types of fresh baked bread my mom could stuff into that bag.”

“It was my pleasure then and still is now, Alfred Pennyworth at your service Ms Zervas.” He takes her hand in a brief squeeze of a shake, “come in from the cold and I'm sure Master Jason will take your coat.”

The tone and raise of a single brow read like a weighted expectation.

“Sure,” Jason steadies his hands as he takes it dropped off her arms, being careful of Cactus on her shoulders. Izzy turns and looks up at him wide eyed, like she did on the porch after ringing the doorbell. Passing a touch down her back he doesn't want to admit to being nervous too.

“It's okay. It's just dinner.” He attempts to ease her fears as her little dragon of a companion stirs. It fits in a way, her carrying something fire breathing into a cave like Wayne manor. It fits her princess name when it gets called out in a bark.

“Isolde! Is Isolde here with Cactus?” Damian drops down from some loft or stairwell overhead suddenly.

She jumped a little when he landed, then started laughing, “Yeah I'm here with my dragon friend. He’s been looking forward to this all day.”

“Of course he has.” Damian tilts his head looking up at her, as she goes down on a knee to even them out. “You promised the whole time.”

“I remember. You're very smart wearing something with long sleeves. If it's warm enough he may want to climb. Don't let him get so far away it's hard to help him get back okay?” She carefully extricates her sweater from little claws, “He's very important to me.”

“Do they really fall if it gets too cold sometimes?” Damian asks quickly as the lizard starts moving, “and can I feed him? What does he eat?”

“He has fallen, I had to move his branch away from the window because of him going into a kind of stupor from the cold in winter.” She holds out her arm, and pats it for Damian to set his hand on it, “and I brought a little salad just for him with some of his favorites. He can eat with us, if it's okay with your dad and Alfred.”

The young boy's sharp eyes sweep to Alfred first. Watching the lizard slowly make his way down Isolde's arm and onto Damian's, the older man hides his amusement a bit.

“I will ask Master Bruce but at least if his table manners are more polished than the rest of yours, I suppose I will bear it.” The slight smirk heartens Izzy almost as much as the wide eyed excitement of the youngest of the Wayne children. Bruce's only natural son, Damian stands in an odd position. It puts her in an odd one too with all the Batman fanfiction she read recently. She snaps her head out of it with iguana handling pointers.

“He's very polite as long as you mind your fingers around his food, and don't startle him. If he drops his tail in fright, I will not let you keep it, nor let him visit again.” Isolde warns, wide eyed as well back at him as his mouth scrunches in response.

“I would never!” Damian breathes out roughly, “He is amazing.”

“I also packed gloves so you can stroke his head if he gets nervous. Don't be surprised if he gives you a little lick here or there.” She hands over gloves and a little container with a salad of mixed greens, flowers, and more prized tweets.

“I love him.” Damian almost coos, as Jason covers his mouth with a few fingers and shares a glance with Alfred. Isolde carefully touches the boy's elbow and hand to tuck it in closer to his chest.

“He'll share your warmth, maybe even nap if you move slow and steady.” She reaches up like she means to tousle his hair but freezes when those sharp intelligent green eyes catch hers and the hand. Instead she pats his arm, and finishes off, “I trust you.”

“I will not let you down Isolde Zervas.” He straightens his posture like a little soldier. Standing she even imagines that the boy's look softens, reminding her slightly of Jay. It calms her until she catches the former intensity from a similar blue set of eyes much closer to Jason's height.

“Dad.” Jason speaks flatly from behind her.

“Ms Zervas, I assume?” Bruce holds a hand out and aims for a slight smile.

“Isolde this is Bruce Wayne, billionaire big shot who shouldn't need an introduction but, you know, “ Jason picks up a hand towards him as she takes Bruce's for a short squeeze only to wipe it on her side.

“Sorry for the, if I was sweaty- I just wanted to make sure that Cactus was comfortable enough to get settled well with Damian.” She stammers a little and keeps looking down and away, “it's a beautiful home, and I brought bread.”

“Quite a bit of it too.” Alfred qualifies.

“Your mother bakes doesn't she?” Bruce leads her into a more comfortable conversation. Jason's hand pauses a hair away from Isolde's back and then sets back in place to support her.

“Yes, well, she's French so it's less cookies and cake decorating and more bread, pastries, and the tough stuff, you know.” She swallows hard, then twists to look back at Jason.

“Yeah, and pies around this time of year. I had been in there enough but didn't realize Izzy was the same girl in my literature class until later.” Jason admits with a hand up the back of his neck into the base of his hair.

“Alfred said that you met on the bus.” Bruce mentions with a point to the door the butler disappeared through.

“Yeah, he fell asleep with a Bronte novel on his leg. I didn't recognize him from class but I figured that he probably meant to stop at the campus.” Izzy holds her hands clasped loosely in front of her, “now I realize that he's one of the rare people who might read that for fun, no class needed to twist that arm, right?”

Her nervous chuckle meets a surprised look from Bruce.

“Right.” He spits out quickly with a clear of his throat right after, “well, he's lucky that you were there then, wasn't he?”

“I guess. It gave us an excuse to talk.” She follows only when Jason sets his hand on the small of her back.

“Are you friends with a lot of your classmates?” Bruce asks over his shoulder.

“Not really. Um, it's hard to kind of bridge the gap with them. I couldn't afford to live on campus, and people well- they kind of get weird about me not being able to go to events or know about places around there.” She explains softly, honestly. Hearing it for the first time it feels a little heartbreaking to Jason.

“First in your family to go too. That's got to be an interesting kind of pressure.” Bruce states simply as he approaches the table, touching the backs of the chairs one by one. It raises the hackles on Jason. He shouldn't know that she's first generation degree bound.

“It is. I've been stocking shelves since I could walk. I remember being so bored learning how to make change in school. It was just something we did every day.” She shrugs and passes a hand across the small of Jason's back before realizing that may be seen as bragging, “but um, your kids are probably like that too with all you do.”

“They’re impressive, yes, and each have their own struggles to contend with,” Bruce offers her the seat on his left, almost ready to move it until Jason sets a hand on it.

“I've got it.” He remarks stiffly.

“Good, well,” Bruce sucks his teeth and refocuses, “Alfred mentioned Dean's list too, all the way through your first two years even?”

“And on track for this semester, along with Jason,” She pats Jay's knee, catching the slight blush and glance away from Bruce's direction. Izzy tracks back to see that she just shocked the family patriarch slightly again.

“I didn't realize he was doing that well. That's commendable.” Bruce drapes his napkin across his lap as the noise increases with each child entering. Duke lifts a hand in a shy kind of wave and Isolde lifts hers with an awkward hello.

“I require the chair across from Isolde to keep Cactus comfortable.” Damian bumps past Dick to secure his preferred seat.

“Hey, watch your manners, little man.” The eldest admonishes him.

“I have been entrusted with his care and he is of high import to our guest. I am minding far more than you, Grayson.” Damian snips back at him, gloved hand gently stroking the lizard's head.

“Ooh, you got him to close his eyes into it.” Izzy leans forward in her seat, “Quite a natural at that aren't you?”

“I enjoy animals better than most people.” Damian states plainly. She's not sure if he means that she holds a rare exception but it feels like that and a threat not to wreck the impression.

“I can understand that. People complicate a lot of things for very silly reasons sometimes.” Izzy agrees and sets her napkin across her lap like Dick and then Jason and the rest of the kids do.

“Like hiding their true intentions,” Bruce drops as an example. Out of place, it feels a little like a threat as well.

“Or letting pride get the best of them,” she counters back gently, but with a flattening of her smile. Jay's hand on hers puts her back in check in the breath after it.

“Like me and that duel, right?” Dick laughs loosely, yet eying his father for a second she thinks she catches.

“Yeah. I owe you an apology for that. I don't get the opportunity to challenge myself outside of practice often and I knew that surprising you would make Jay laugh, so I couldn't pass up the chance.” She chuckles lightly, and smiles wider when Jay squeezes her hand.

“Water under the bridge. No hard feelings as long as I get a regulation rematch.” Dick turns on the charm with her as Tim starts slyly taking bets further down the table.

“I think that you'll have me at a disadvantage then most likely.” She admits with a big breath.

“You can try left handed this time. I bet it puts you on more equal footing then,” Jason adds and most of the rest of them pause, stunned by not only one, but two complete and gently said sentences.

“Maybe,” she replies with soft eyes on him as salads get set down in front of them.

“Thank you,” she turns in her chair to address Alfred and Dick chuckles.

“You don't have to thank him. It's his job.” He smiles in a warm way but Jason doesn't take it that way when Izzy blushes with her eyes down at her lap.

“She's being polite. She's not used to all of this stuff.” Jay snaps little.

“It's still nice to hear Ms Zervas, even if it is my pleasure.” The older man drifts through smoothly.

She eats quietly, trying to shake off the silly embarrassment. As the salad plates lift she hears Bruce clear his throat again.

“As I recall, your father only ever fought right handed. Which you appear to be proficient in, from the recording in the gym.” Bruce opens his hands, “apologies for watching. The rest of the kids got curious.”

“Yeah, well, there are advantages to fighting on the left at times,” she shifts her weight and watches the soup course get rolled in on a cart.

“Like sometimes reach, but more often just not being accustomed to it with an opponent,” Tim chimes in and she smiles weakly.

“Or guarding your heart in a real fight, since you're more likely to take a glancing hit on the opposite shoulder.” She adds.

“Get in many of those?” Steph questions.

“No, but down in my neighborhood, you never know what skills might come in handy in a scrape.” She makes eye contact and nods at Alfred this time.

“I didn't realize until I saw you fight but your father never really favored the saber, did he?” Bruce pushes.

“No, that was my mother's weapon,” she gives a piece of the puzzle she never likes talking about while still unsteady with the unspoken rules in this fine dining environment, “she's the left hand dominant.”

“But fought both handed just like you.” The man of the house takes another verbal step in using the information he found.

“Is this an interrogation now?” Jason bristles.

“It's fine.” Izzy attempts to calm him, “my mother doesn't like talking about it.”

“And why is that?” Damian finally pays attention again. Deadly mothers interest him as does her baking things.

“The women's circuit was far smaller back then, not supported with programs or rewards commensurate with their skills. She put as much pressure as she dared trying to fight the same men she bested in training. But she always met up against the most pathetic of excuses when we all know that it was the fragile pride of men who didn't want their trophy sullied by the name Noelle instead of honored by a Bruce… or a Mark.” She explains carefully, with occasional looks at Jason at first. Then she simply spins her spoon in the soup towards the end.

“Sh- she was better than your father?” Cass asks suddenly.

“She's why he was as good as he was. When you have the best practice partner, you're forced to level up against them or quit out of frustration.” Izzy takes a careful bite of the soup only to flinch when Bruce starts up again.

“Yet she quit, still at the top of her game.” Unnecessary, he meant it more as an observation but it lands as more than that.

“Yet you quit after one win, not after time and time again until it was clear no one could match her.” She levels sharply as Jason takes her hand.

“We don't have to stay.” He tells her with a squeeze of it, eyes dark on Bruce over her head.

“No, don't leave. I didn't mean that as a judgement and Isolde was more than fair turning that strike back against me. I did step back suddenly, and I missed the slight with the spelling of your father's name on the new trophy.” Bruce rubs at his brow, at the top of the bridge of his nose, “I honestly forgot that he used the biblical Greek spelling of Markos. I'm having it fixed. It was bad enough not defending my championship win…”

“I was just curious when I recognized your mother's style in your duel with Dick, Isolde. I didn't even know that your father and Noelle Duchamp were seeing each other back then. They were at odds so often. She gave him such grief, at least it was in French so most people didn't catch it.” He smiles warmly as Isolde considers him anew.

“Ce n'est pas grave. C'est de l'histoire ancienne... Water under the bridge.” She drops her eyes back down and nudges Jason's hand further into her lap. (It's fine. Ancient history)

A sore spot, she challenged her mother once when they practiced on the roof of their building. Driving her back, irritated by not being allowed to compete at all, she sneered through her teeth about it being jealousy.

The swift clashes of strikes back at her made her blink, wincing like she did when Bruce pressed on the topic. Izzy discovered the deep fury inside her mother that way. Still, soft in a measured way, Noelle carried an implied threat of an intelligence tempered smooth for the ease of others. The reality of how they saw the best, how they kept one type down despite and even in the face of real merit, made it easier to stomach no one ever really knowing. What was the point in trying to win in a system uneven from the start? What was the point in honoring their rules when they only served themselves? Why sprint the footpath only to be turned away at the mountain and denied the view from the top?

“Isolde?” Jason prompts her when she misses a question.

“Hm?” She brightens slightly after a pointed blink.

“Which are Cactus’ favorite, the flowers or the strawberries?” Damian asks again as he tips the container to slide the contents closer to the iguana's mouth.

“It's a toss up. Too much fruit isn't good for him. He enjoys it a lot, but otherwise he likes the Nasturtium flowers best. They're edible for humans too. I grow them on my window sill and sometimes eat one with him.” She muses softly. It helped him bond when they rushed the process.

“I won't try it now. You said not to touch his food.” Damian repeats smooth and still razor focused.

“Would you like to at some point?” She asks with a shrug from him in reply, “I could bring some by or give Jason some.”

“I hear that they taste peppery,” Steph observes.

“They do, like carnations.” Izzy offers, still calming from before with the touch of Jason's fingers across her palm.

“Well, at least when I get you flowers I know they won't just go into the garbage when they die.” Jason quips next to her.

“Roses are edible but I dried the ones you got me instead of digesting them. Sorry to disappoint you.” She smirks.

“Jason bought you roses?” Barbara questions, “Our Jason?”

“My Jason,” Izzy spills out under her breath. Faint, like a wisp of a whisper, he catches it and the smile on her side only encourages hers more.

“And that's so surprising?” Jason challenges his soon to be sister in law.

“You have to admit. You're not exactly the wooing kind.” Dick interjects.

“Either was Fitzwilliam Darcy until it mattered most.” Izzy mentions with a quirk to her smile.

Jason turns, lifting her hand to his mouth for a fast kiss on the back, “That's my girl, coming in clutch with the Austen reference. Eat it nerds.”

She holds back the laugh for a minute. Bruce can't as well with the way his chest moves in the corner of her eye. He spends most of the rest of the meal in relative silence, participating in snippets of conversation with all the children in turn.

“Ms Zervas, it was a pleasure.” He offers his hand and shakes hers slightly when she sets herself loosely on top.

“Same. Thank you for having me. Everything was lovely, company included.” She carefully adds at the end. Unsteady, she wonders what all that with her mother meant to prove or do.

“Mm, I'm afraid that my children showed me up yet again.” He acquiesces.

“As they should, when you want better than you had for them like any good parent would.” She contends with a brush of her hand over the back of Jason's as he quibbles with one of his siblings further down the table, “and I owe you for this one in particular and the hospitality. I'm afraid that we don't have room to return the favor like this and barely the time.”

“Well, maybe one day we can have the rest of the Zervas family here for dinner. Until then, you're welcome again whenever you can make our Wayne one on Saturdays.” Bruce answers.

“That's very generous. Thank you.” She leaves her napkin over her plate like the rest of them. At least that's something she can do right here.

“The store is closed on Sundays so maybe one of those?” He offers leaving another clue that she misses, “it might not be so busy here then.”

“Oh, well they do church on Sunday, usually morning, sometimes also night community service work. It's a longstanding habit.” She bites her lower lip and looks up, “maybe Friday night after the stock order, and before I man the store on Saturday mornings? If they even agree…”

“I'm sure they don't still want to have bad blood between us with you and Jason getting so close.” He reasons softly, trying to find some kind of inroads with her family to figure out why his major question still feels unanswered.

“Yeah, I guess. I can try.” She hopes that's enough. He gives a simple smile to it as Jason nudges her.

As the crew of them try to goad her into the gym, Izzy waves the younger more insistent members off.

“I'm too full for all of that.” She takes her boyfriend's hand in both of hers, getting drawn closer to him by the slight sweep of it.

“We can go for a walk, the garden is pretty dead but there might still be some roses in the little greenhouse back there.” he mentions softly.

“Is that where you got them?” She questions.

“Hey, why buy them when you can steal them from a rich idiot who forgets that he has them?” Jason murmurs low enough to avoid Bruce's judgment.

Izzy laughs as she follows him down a relatively dark hall, “that actually makes it far more romantic, at least for me.”

Alfred stops next to Bruce as he watches the young couple retreat into the mansion more.

“And what do we think?” The butler queries.

“If she's not earnest she's a very good actor. Then again that was one of her mother's talents in a match, the ability to feint convincingly.” Bruce informs him.

“She appears to deeply study topics that interest her, and seems to know how to charm some of the more prickly personalities here…” Alfred reasons as he watches Damian smoothly walking towards the gym stopping to show the iguana various things.

“She claims she didn't know who he was when she met him but they went through at least a couple of weeks of classes before that. Then she hid her training, and her mother. Now I just can't help the feeling that there's more to this story.” Bruce rests his weight on the table with both hands as he stands. Close to the same size as Jason for a while, the younger man rounded out slightly taller and wider in most regards eventually.

“You still think they're tied up in the Galavan murder?” Alfred's voice takes on a hesitant tone, “despite the brother being convicted?”

“I think I need to have Selena check in with some people. A lot of outfits down near the alley still refuse to conduct business on Sundays.” Bruce starts helping Alfred clear the table.

“Even less with Red Hood clearing out the worst of them in the alley itself.” Alfred brings up the additional coincidence.

“That's why I wonder what she knew, or at least suspected when they met.” Bruce contends with the lapse of all their identities to this young woman so quickly.

Jason told Alfred how she found him after the gunshot wound nearly brought a straggler to his door, weakened as he was that night. Her skill with the sword saved her, and his with a gun saved her. They shared something more than that, a point of view that he didn't elaborate on much with the older man.

“Remember Master Bruce, coincidences could be manufactured, or they could be past reason.”

“Like fate?” Bruce snorts slightly, “that's awfully romantic, especially for you old chum.”

“She called him Darcy.” The older man stacks items on his dining cart, “maybe she's his Elizabeth Bennett?”

“Or he's the Tristan to her Isolde, torn between duty and love.” Bruce smirks at the Izzy to Lizzy comparison all the same.

“Either way, sir. Good luck on your search and be careful. That young man restrained himself far more than usual this time.” Through the door, he leaves Bruce resigned to it. He knows it. Jason deferred to Isolde, challenged him but didn't blow his top over it. She improved his impulsive nature a bit, or he matured when Bruce wasn't looking. Either way, the nature of this puzzle surrounding her worries him.

In the greenhouse, Jason stews over one particular piece a little. When she circles to try to see the stars through the glass ceiling he ventures asking.

“So, your mom huh?” His hands in his pockets and head hung a little, the insecurity pours off of him.

“Yeah, her secret to keep. I almost forget it most days. She only picks up a blade to test me or for fun like the Zervas annual May the Fourth light-saber battle.” Izzy gently touches a leaf, unsure of herself and finding bits of anger still lingering.

“Fuck, now I want in on that.” He chuckles softly.

“Yeah well you don't want to push her about any of it. She'd be so disappointed that I did that. I let him goad me, take little swipes one after another…” she shakes her head, looking at his feet instead of his face.

“You were nervous. You gave it right back to him, as good as he gave it.” He crosses the divide between them, hurting to see her stressed like this, “she can't be that mad, it’s not like there aren't records. Hell Tim probably knows her shoe size already from the shit he can find online.”

“What?! Did they- Were they spying on me? Hacking my shit? Fuck Jay do they know about the writing?!” Her nostrils flare as she gestures in a way that definitely brings the Mediterranean to mind.

“No! Or I don't know. It was mainly just a joke. They were curious and I think just messing with me, until Bruce… he asked about things he couldn't have known from just back then,” He tries, hovering his hands around her wilder moving ones until he can hold them gently, “He promised he wouldn't, that he'd let you make your own first impression. I don't know what he's after. Is there anything else?”

“I don't know what he thinks that he's looking for. My mom stopped fighting after she got pregnant with me. Her attitude didn't make her many friends. My father told me once that she embarrassed men in training, flagrantly, loudly- since they wouldn't let her compete on their level she started to try to bring them down as many notches as she could.” Izzy relays fast, with tears lingering in her eyes, “that's all I know. She quit, dad kept going, saving up money however they could, all the while I made my entrance and made everything harder… just like now.”

“You don't make any of this any harder.” He insists, “Isolde, you just kept Bruce Wayne off guard. He record scratched more than a lame wedding DJ.” Jason moves her into a hug under his head, “everything they assume about me, you turned around. I know you feel like you messed up entirely but you didn't mess up for me.”

“You're sure?” She moves her face so her eye makeup doesn't rub on his shirt. He wore an incredibly well tailored white button down. It told her that this meant something. He dressed the part to prove his father wrong, “I really didn't make it worse for you here?”

“Not at all. You shook things up in exactly the way I didn't know I needed.” He kisses her right at her hairline as she gives up trying to keep herself from the comfort and wraps her arms around him, “and I'll help with the rest okay? I promise.”