Batgirl and Killer Moth in:  Interlude at 6:30AM

Barbara Gordon stood in the bedroom and stared at the bed.  Here she was again.  In this room.  The rest of the house had more or less faded into that genteel awkwardness of something familiar that one did not wish to be so familiar with, but she had managed to avoid the bedroom, his bedroom, ever since that morning one month prior.  Now, in the harsh, cold light of a LED bulb hanging from the ceiling fan she stood at the foot of his king-sized bed and clenched her fists rhythmically, the tightening of the fabric across her knuckles doing its best to keep her thoughts and feelings pushed down to a numb anxiety.  Through the gap in the curtains she could just make out the glowing ruddiness invading the horizon, backed by rolling streaks of purple, orange, and gold as the last stars fought the good fight against the perfidious dawn.  She could not do this.

"Something wrong, Barbara?"  Dru Walker placed his helmet on the dresser and went about the numerous buckles and straps that kept his wings secured to his body.  She still hadn't quite gotten used to hearing him say her name, but there was a certain thrill?  Excitement?  Panic?  When it rolled off his tongue in that thunderous basso profundo that made her feel giddy and challenged, and even a little small at times - though she'd never admit that last part.

"I think," she paused as her heart pounded and rose from her chest to her throat, before she swallowed it back down and added shifting from one foot to the other in time to her fist-clenching, "I think I made a mistake agreeing to this."

He dropped his wings to the floor and unhooked his utility belt.  "You're the one who said you wouldn't be able to make it back to Gotham before the morning rush."

"Yeah, but...I mean, I've gone out as Batgirl in the daylight before.  No big deal."

"But not stuck in morning traffic," he added as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots off, silently praying they wouldn't smell.

"I can manage."

"I think that ship has sailed," he pointed his thumb at the ever-brightening sky outside the window, "besides, this is your, what, fifth time in my house now?  You've got to be used to it."

"It, not this."  She motioned to the bed."  C'mon, Dru, it's a bad idea.  Your kid already despises me and you know she's going to throw a sulking fit if she wakes up and I'm here."

He got up and kissed her on the cheek before pulling his top over his head, muffling his next few words.  "I'll let you in on a little secret, Kitten despises every woman I've ever brought home."  He tossed the purple top into a waiting laundry basket and began unstrapping the body armor underneath, "Sure, your introduction was a little...eeeeehhhhhhh compared to the rest, but she'll deal.  Plus it's a Saturday and good luck getting her out of bed before lunch without dragging her out, she might not even find out you were here."

Barbara wavered and grimaced.  "We're all nasty and sweaty from the fighting and I'd be pretty gross to sleep next to..."

"So take a shower," he said motioning to the attached bathroom.  After a second, he gave her a mischievous look, "we can take a shower."

"I'm on my period.  I might leak onto your sheets."

He put his hands on her upper arms and pressed his forehead against the armor plating of her cowl, "I'll get you a fresh tampon and a liner from the other bathroom."

"...I..."

"You're exhausted.  You've probably been up for 24 hours at this point.  You spent the last few hours running around and kicking ass.  If you really wanted to have gone straight home you would have changed into those civvies I know you keep in your motorcycle rather than suggesting that you come here.  You're just crashing here for a few hours.  It's just a nap."  He looked her over and seeing her trepidation he stepped back and held his hands up," I'm going to grab you a tampon.  If you really can't do this, just walk on by and grab your change of clothes out of your bike; I won't say anything, I'll just make you a cup of coffee for the road."

With that he left the room.  Barbara's head reeled and she clenched her fists so hard her finger hurt as she stared at that bed.  That soft, but supportive bed with its firm pillows and warm, fluffy comforter, and Dru right beside her.  She was probably going to hate herself in a few hours, but she'd deal with that when it came.  Reaching up, she detached her cape and felt as if all the weight of the world dropped from her shoulders as it hit the floor.  Dru walked back in and gave her that lopsided, half-smile he did when content.  Tossing the tampon on the dresser, he walked up to her and put his hands the buckle of her utility belt, "I'm glad you changed your mind."

Suddenly she grabbed his hands and pulled them off of her, "Stop it, Dru."

He cocked his head and looked a little hurt, "But..."

"No, I mean you were about to trigger the defensive mechanisms."  She dropped his hands and performed the correct sequence to unlatch the belt, which joined the cape on the floor.  Dru stepped back and closed the door before pulling is pants off and collecting his gear in nothing but his jockstrap.  Babs bit her lip and caught on to his peacocking but enjoyed the view.  Tugging her boots and socks off, she stood perfectly still for a second, massaging her toes into the thick, taupe plush carpet.  Maybe it was the night spent broken field running, dashing over rocks, scaling the abandoned lighthouse, and providing more kicks than an 80s action film but it felt like she was standing on a cloud.  Screw the bed, she might just sleep on the floor.  In the bathroom, the sound of Dru brushing his teeth broke her out of her reverie and she quickly unzipped her suit and shimmied out of it.  "You can do this, Babs, it's just spending the night with a guy at his place," she whispered to herself, "you've done it before, you'll do it again."  And with that, her underwear flew from her body and into the pile of costuming at the foot of the bed.

Dru was standing in the shower when she walked into the bathroom, standing up straight and inhaling sharply with conviction.  He looked at her with a bit of trepidation and awkwardness, "Are you sure..."

Confused at his reaction, Barbara's blood went ice cold.  Her heart was back in her throat.  Her feet hurt against the cold tile.  She wished she were in her apartment.  She glanced in the mirror and saw that she was still wearing her cowl.  Maybe she couldn't do this.  Maybe she should just bail.  Maybe she-  She grabbed her cowl by the horns, wrenching it off her head and tossing it into the sink before stamping into the shower.  Shivering with apprehension and anxiety she stood before Dru and turned the water on.  A mild shriek was emitted as the cold water hit her.  Embarrassed, fearful, and feeling quite a bit foolish, Babs stood there, muscles locked up, under the freezing water until it turned to a pleasant warmth as Dru adjusted the temperature.  Blinking the water from her eyes, she tucked her wet hair behind her ear and looked up at Dru, the band in her brain cuing up the soundtrack to her personal pity party.  He stood there, rivulets of water following down his prominent cheekbones and dripping from his cleft chin, arms clenched to his side.  He was trying his hardest not to laugh.

"I guess you are sure."

Babs threw her arms around him and pressed them together, her head buried in his chest.  Inhaling deeply, she caught the faintest whiff of him, mostly drowned out by the water.  Sweat, synthetic fibers, a touch of lactic rancidity from hours running around, even some deodorant, and him.  Something she couldn't quite put her finger on but was distinctly...him.  Volatile, wood, leather, a little floral and even a hint of something like vanilla.

Books.  He smelled like her favorite book.

She looked up at him and smiled.  He looked down at her and smiled.  She grabbed the soap and turned around, handing him the shampoo bottle.  "Get my hair and back?"

"Only if you get mine."

After their shower, Babs watched him pull back the bed coverings as she unwrapped her hair.  "I don't think we can avoid damp hair getting all over the place."

"We'll manage."

Dru slipped under the covers and patted the space next to him.  After a moment's hesitation, Babs slid in from the other side and the light was turned off, leaving the room lit by the dull light of morning that pushed past the edges of the curtains. Together they lay on their backs and stared at the ceiling.  Babs still wasn't sure she could do this, and, if he were the one for open honesty, Dru was beginning to feel like maybe he couldn't either.  After a few half-hearted attempts at starting conversation, they were content to stare sleeplessly as the slowly rotating ceiling fan.  Suddenly Dru felt a hand grab his and squeeze, looking over he saw Barbara give him a smile then turn her back to him.

"I snore on my back," she said as she wiggled herself up against him and tucking herself under his arm, "so you get the butt."

"Goodnight slash morning, Barbara."

"Goodnight slash morning."

Dru returned to staring at the ceiling fan, this time the smallest of smiles creeping into the corners of his mouth.  Okay, maybe he could do this, if only just this, if only right now.

"Oh, and Dru," Barbara added, her voice beginning to sag as she drifted off, "Babs.  Call me Babs."