The night was cold and the wind was blowing fiercely, but the teenager did nothing but wrap her thin jacket around her tighter, her wild black hair going everywhere. She hadn't bothered to put on anything warm before she got out of the house; her goal was to sneak out without either or her parents noticing.

It had worked for the most part, the only slip up being that her younger sister, Artemis, had caught her when the blond haired girl had gotten up to use the bathroom. Jade had swiftly made the younger girl promise not to say anything, then continued out the window and down the rickety fire escape.

She could feel the stares of the men around, but for once she didn't really care; they were pigs, all of them, even the ones who had homes. Homes, she thought bitterly. I never had a home.

For the most part, that was true. Having a father who was a known criminal didn't exactly scream friendly to the neighbors, nor having yells come from their apartment nightly help either. The older girl had always tried to protect her innocent sister, but it was no use; the nightly terrors always reached the pair. Artemis was lucky, the thought flickered across her mind, that she didn't have to deal with the worst when I was younger. Born second, born lucky.

It would seem that second was a lucky number in her family; Artemis always received good grades and made friends quickly, even in their shady neighborhood. Jade was the opposite, a free spirit, if you would say. She had never had a boyfriend, nor a true friend even. Her nights were spent killing and thieving just to please her father. A cruel life, if one at all.

She heard a loud whistle and picked up her pace as she came upon an ally, where the dark shadows of a few people were. Not a second after her foot had crossed the brick line a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. She looked up just in time to see the cruel and dirty face of an older man.

Without a second thought her reflexes kicked in and she jerked her hand away, twirling around and aiming a clenched fist at the man's face. The man was unlucky to get full wind of her punch, stumbling backward. The black haired girl took this change to flee, something she knew her father would have frowned upon. As quickly as the thought entered her mind she chased it away with a curt screw him.

When the men's shouts were long gone, she brought her pace back to the average walker. She could feel the cold stares of disapproving strangers at her back, but, just as before, she didn't care. Just walk, she told herself. Walk. The pain will go away.

The red haired boy had almost reached the back of the room, the beautifully crafted French doors looming above him, when-

"Roy."

The boy swore, then put on a blank expression and turned to face his adoptive father, Oliver Queen. He was elegantly dressed, in contrast to the teenager's dark jeans and black tee shirt. On the billionaire's right arm was the beautiful Dinah Lance, his girlfriend. Roy scoffed at the girl, knowing that their relationship wouldn't last a week. After all, why would she be different then all the other woman his father dated?

No, he scolded himself. He's not my father. "Hey Oliver," he said nervously. "How's everything going?"

The man frowned. "Why aren't you in your tux? Better yet, trying to sneak out again? I thought better of you."

Roy's face twisted into a scowl. "No thanks," he spat. "I'd rather play patty cake with Batman."

Oliver let out a snort at the thought of his son playing the childish game with the stern superhero, but a nudge from the lady on his arm changed his expression. Dinah sighed, then fixed her gaze on the boy. Her diamond earrings sparkled in the lights as she spoke, momentarily taking Roy's focus. "Roy," she said gently. "Why don't you mingle with children your age?"

The boy brought his hands up. "Do you see one person in here who is my age?"

"You have a point, Roy, but you still you should be here. As my son, you have responsibilities-"

Oliver was cut off by a snarl from the younger boy. "I am not your son," he hissed, before turning and throwing open the doors.

The man and his partner watched as the boy disappeared into the shadows, slipping through the back gate and running down the gravel driveway, not stopping to apologize when he nearly knocked over some guests. Oliver sighed when he recognized the pair as the mayor and his wife.

Dinah patted his arm. "Let him go," she said in a soft tone. "He'll calm down. He always does."

Jade looked up at the sound of a bell jingling, only to put her head quickly down when she recognized the bakery a few blocks from her house. However, she paused momentarily to roam her gaze among the tasty treats, her lips parting slightly when she thought of devouring them.

Her daydream was interrupted by the gruff voice of a man, and his angry face behind the glass. She would have fought back and maybe had a little…fun, but she wasn't in the mood. They all looked at her the same, so why bother? Why should they, the proper, bother with a little street rat.

Or, as she thought with a small smile gracing her lips. A street cat.

The reason she had escaped the apartment tonight was not because she just felt like it, but because her parents were arguing even more so than usual. Her father had taken her out on her first mission as Cheshire the other night, and her mother was angrily protesting that her eldest join in the life of crime. Little did the Asian woman know that her husband had been training the girl from the ripe age of seven to do this type of work. Jade had missed countless days of school when her father had pulled her out; the beaten down faculty had never bothered to do anything about it, for fear that her volatile father would do something about it.

She continued along the dirty sidewalk, keeping her head low and wrapping the thin garment tighter around her. It was no use, it seemed, for the wind was just getting harsher.

Suddenly a jolt came to her side and she growled, before realizing that the person who had bumped into her hadn't stopped, or even muttered an apology. With a smirk, Jade crept after the person. The man was dressed in a trench coat that he had wrapped tightly around him, but the assassin's sharp eyes spotted a small lump in the pocket; with a gleam to her dark eyes, she set out to get the wallet.

The man was going awfully fast for someone wandering the streets at this time of night, which, in Jade's experience, meant one of two things; he had to be somewhere in a hurry or he just didn't want to be seen this night. Judging from the way he was glancing around warily, she decided it was the latter.

Her nimble fingers were at the edge of his pocket, just grazing the edge of the black wallet. She could almost see the cash she would bring home, her father's praise when he realized that she had brought that month's rent, when-

She felt her wrist being grabbed firmly and yanked away from the man. A yelp escaped her lips before she could conceal her surprise. The man she had been trying to pickpocket whirled around, glaring daggers at her. She, however, had her angry gaze focused on the person who had stopped her.

He was about her age, with short cut red hair, lightly tanned skin and sharp blue eyes. He took in her angry expression for a moment, then turned back to the older man, who was clutching his pocket as though his life depended on it.

"So sorry," the red-haired boy said smoothly. "My sister wandered off and I couldn't catch her. I apologize for the inconvenience."

The man glanced suspiciously at the pair of them, obviously wondering why she had dark skin and black hair while he had nearly the opposite, but gave a curt nod to the boy and continued walking, this time considerably more faster.

She let out a snarl, yanking her hand from the boy's wrist. As soon as she did she noticed the absence of warmth, but instead focused her thoughts on the person who had ruined her hunt. He was staring at her with an unreadable expression. "Why did you do that?" she hissed. "I almost had his wallet!"

The boy crossed his arms, and it was then she noticed he was very muscular. "You shouldn't steal from innocent people."

"Oh really," she said, sarcastic looming in her voice. "How do you know he wasn't a dangerous criminal?"

His eyes left her form for a moment and glanced at the retreating man, then flickering back to her. "He's not."

"Instincts get you killed."

He mumbled an incoherent word underneath his breath-her sharp ears caught part of a curse word and she let out a hiss-and he sighed. "Why do you steal? For fun? Entertainment?"

"To survive."

She could see her words hit him with malice, so she took this chance to turn and walk away, this time deciding not to wander aimlessly and started to cross the street.

He watched as she crossed the street, stopping only for a splint second to look both ways for approaching cars. His eyes never left her, curiosity coming over him. If she truly was a thief, she would have run the moment I caught her, he mused, but she stayed. What is she up to?

Her native black hair and fierce eyes seemed imprinted in his memory. Something about her was alluring, but he immediately shook it out of his head. She was a thief, a petty criminal.

To survive. The words were on loop in his mind, over and over again. To survive? He snorted. Probably just for entertainment. Just like every other criminal. He started to turn, but year of being an archer caused his eyes to catch something.

He turned just in time to see a car, barreling towards the crosswalk, not bothering to obey the red light. His eyes widened as he realized that the girl he had just come across the walking across the street.

His legs had already started moving as her head jerked up. Even from a few feet away he caught her startled gaze and widening eyes.

He leapt for her and pushed her out of the way, just in time for the car to speed past. He hit the ground with a thud and he felt the vibrations from the car. His body flipped over just in time to see her hit the ground hard, her head hitting the edge of the sidewalk with a loud crack.

He heard the surrounding screams as he shot up and bolted towards her, afraid that she was dead. To his surprise she just sat up, rubbing her head and mumbling something under her breath. His eyes swept her body and caught quite a few bruises on her arms, but her long jeans blocked his view of any possible injuries on her legs.

His head snapped up when he realized that she was getting up. On reflex he grabbed her forearm. "Not so fast," he said in a gruff tone. "You hit your head pretty hard."

She started to make a retort, but was cut off by the sound of sirens in the distance. He became confused when he saw fear flash through her dark eyes as she yanked her arm out his grip for the second time tonight, turned quickly, and bolted down the sidewalk.

He chased after her, determined to make sure that she was alright. Although, he thought with a grimace as he dodged a couple that had momentarily blocked his view of the girl, she doesn't seem to want help. Why would anyone be afraid of the hospital?

It was then that he realized what a stupid question that was. He hated hospitals, having been Green Arrow's sidekick since he was little. Though I was never actually afraid of the rotten places.

She could almost feel the vibrations of his footsteps through the sidewalk as he chased after her, but she only ran faster. If he caught her, he would take her to a hospital, who would demand to know who she was, which would lead to her last name, which was connected to her father…it was simpler just to run.

She whirled around a small child, who dropped his ice cream at the sight of someone barreling towards him. She let herself ponder what would happen if she took the treat, but then heard him getting closer.

The assassin let out a small groan as she ran faster down the street, unsuccessfully trying to throw him off her tail. He had to be a runner or something, because he was extremely fast…

Suddenly she felt his grip on her wrist for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. She skidded to a halt and he did too, causing her to take a few steps back when she realized that they were very close.

He didn't even look tired as he spoke, only slightly annoyed. "You need medical attention," he said firmly. "You almost got hit by a car!"

She didn't respond, only tried to get away from him. He retaliated by grabbing her other hand and forcing her up against the brink wall, pinning her hands to the surface. This caused a few strange looks from people as she tried not to scream when something sharp poked her back in a place where she had landed a few minutes earlier.

"Look," he said in a quieter tone. "Please just get checked out."

When she finally spoke, her voice was a mixture of anger and exasperation. "I'm fine."

"You hit your head pretty hard."

Being the daughter of Sportsmaster meant you got used to head injuries. "I said," she spoke more firmly, "that I'm fine."

"If you don't want to go to a hospital, just tell me."

She frowned and tried to get loose. "You're not helping by pinning me to a wall."

His face was one of almost one of pure terror as he dropped her and took a few steps back, glancing at his hands. She winced and rubbed one hand, then the other, taking note of the bruises already forming. He's strong.

His eyes flickered to the bruises on her wrist-bruises that he had caused-and immediately felt bad. "Sorry," he muttered.

Her night colored eyes glared at him. "Why are you chasing me?" she snarled. "I said I was fine."

He was ready to give up, but it was then he noticed that she was favoring her left leg. But when he took a step towards her, she panicked and hit the wall again.

He froze. "Please," he almost begged. He felt bad, even though he had saved her life. She was obviously hurt, but clearly didn't want to admit it. "Let me help you."

Her eyes seemed to study him, as if trying to discover every secret. "Do you have a place that isn't a hospital?"

He thought for a moment. "I have an apartment a few blocks from here." It was a small place, somewhere he went on nights that he needed to escape from Ollie. Legally, without a parent's permission, a seventeen year old kid shouldn't be able to own an apartment, but being the son-adopted or otherwise-of a billionaire had its perks. "There's a first aid kit there."

"Do you know how to use it?"

"Of course. Why else would I have it?"

She let out a sigh of exasperation. "Fine," she muttered, before turning to face the street. "Let's go."

He stepped out and made his way down the street. It had to be nearly midnight right now, but she didn't seem to care about the beady eyes staring at them from all corners of the streets. After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat. "So…uh…where do you live?"

"None of your business." Her reply was short and emotionless.

He sent a glance at her. "Can I at least know your name?"

She looked at him for a brief second, then back at the sidewalk. "Still none of your business."

She could feel him watching her as her eyes flickered up and down the building. "You must be rich."

He hesitated. "None of your business."

Her eyes sparkled at the use of her own words being used against her, but followed him into the lobby as he made his way to the elevator. She could almost feel the stares from the other people, but did particularly care. If this guy was rich, maybe she could steal something. That might make her father proud, or at least her mother accepting of her ability to bring in income for the family.

The elevator dinged and it opened to reveal a long hallway. He stepped out with ease and she followed him. He stopped at a door near the end of the hallway, pulling a ring of keys from his back pocket and sticking the metal into the key slot. It scraped for a second, the sharp sound causing Jade to wince, but slid in, twisting and causing the door to open.

She followed him into the apartment, taking in its appearance. It was about medium sized, with a rather small kitchen and large windows. There was one door to the left and one to her right, the latter she assumed was the bathroom and the other a bedroom, with a sofa and flat screen near the far end of the apartment. It was rather clean for a teenage boy living there.

He let out a laugh at her expression. "Yeah, it's only his clean because I live here part time."

She just shrugged. "That's your business," she said, taking a seat on the edge of the couch.

He just walked over to the kitchen, grabbing something under the sink and turning around, revealing a first aid kit. He walked over, setting it on the coffee table.

After a moment of staring, he shifted. "Uh…can you…maybe…take your jacket off?"

She smirked at his obvious unease, but did as he said and slipped the jacket off, revealing a short sleeved, dark green v-neck.

He took in her appearance, then at her thin jacket she had tossed beside her. "You went out like that?" he asked, disbelief showing in his voice.

She shrugged. "Not all of us are rich," she said shortly, before flipping her hand over, revealing a gash in the middle of her palm. "Can we just get this over with so I can leave?"

He nodded, and set to work healing her wounds. It was absolute silence as he applied bandages to her scraped body, only pausing once to ask her to roll up her pant legs. She complied, revealing skin scraped more than her arms. Then he looked over those, then at her head. When he found no bump he nodded, then started to pack up the first aid kit. "No head injury from what I can tell, so you should be fine…" his voice trailed off when he realized that she was already half way to the door.

Her hand was scraping the metal handle when his voice echoed through the apartment. "Wait."

She paused, but didn't turn. "Yes?"

"You aren't really going out at this time of night, are you? You could get hurt again, or worse-"

This time she turned to face him. "I can take care of myself."

His blue eyes flickered over her damaged form. "No," he said quietly. "I won't let you."

She placed a hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow. "Try and stop me."

He took one glance at her determined face and sighed. "I just don't want you to get hurt anymore. Please."

Something about his voice made the argument slip from her tongue, the silence in the room growing even more dense. No one had cared about her before…even after missions her father had left her to attend to her own wounds. This made her hesitate. "Fine," she said quickly, before she could change her mind. "I'll take the couch."

He shook his head. "You take my bed, I'll take the couch."

"It's your bed."

"I insist."

"No, it's your house."

"It's the polite thing to do."

It was a stare down, before he let out a groan and she sighed. "Fine," they said at the same time, causing the other to blush slightly.

Then he spoke up. "I'll take the couch," he said, challenging her.

She muttered something under her breath, but she was tired. "Okay," she agreed, and watched as he tossed her the jacket and made with grabbing blankets from underneath the cabinets.

For a second she didn't move, unsure of what to do, but then he glanced up and noticed her just standing there. As he spoke, he pointed to the door on the left. "That door is the bedroom, the one across from it is the bathroom."

He watched as she opened the door and slid in, closing it with a quiet thump. He let his gaze linger on the closed door for a moment, then busied himself with finishing the couch.

As he got underneath the covers and turned on his side, his mind crossed the thought that she might steal something.

His dreams that night were filled wild black hair and dark eyes.

She slipped out the door, glancing at the sleeping boy on the couch. She knew that she could easily take something and go, but he did bandage her up and gave her a place to sleep last night.

Jade grabbed a piece of paper off the counter and rummaged for a pencil in the drawers, careful to be as quiet as possible. After jotting down a quick note she placed it on the table then turned, walking out the door.

When she was a few blocks away from the building, it hit her that she never knew his name.

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was the fluttering piece of paper on the table. He grasped up through his sleep filled eyes. It read:

Hey Red-

Thanks for letting me spend for night and taking care of me.

It was not signed, but honestly, who else could have left it?

With a start, he realized that he never got her name.

Author's Note:

Hope you liked it...if you didn't...oh well. I've always loved this pair, but have never been able to really write them. They arn't the most popular pairing on Young Justice-Spitfire is my favorite, but then Wally died-but I love Roy/Jade anyway.

And...scene.