I do not own nor claim to own any of DC's characters. Credit for the creation of these characters belongs to the fine writers and artists at DC, specifically Greg Rucka and Michael Lark.

"Hey, it's me."

I feel guilty. It seems like the only time I've made for her is the time I need her, like it's never in me to do something just for the hell of it. But she'd never let me know it.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

She chuckles. "Do you wanna come over? I'll cook."

"Yeah, I think I'd like that."

And all at once, I start to feel better. I start to forget Lipari. I start to forget this feeling that's been eating away at me every time I visit my parents.

"I'll see you in a bit."

…Of course, things change real easy in this city. I don't know how long it took for me to go to the brink of loosing everything and stumble back with so little. I just know things changed.

But I count my blessings never the less. Cris still has my back. Ben might still talk to me. I still got a job. And, somehow, I still have her.

:::::::::::::::

"Are you sure they meant it? I mean, it's not very Christianly to-."

"They meant it. Their eldest and only daughter a dyke…it seems a very Christian thing to do."

Did I mention somewhere in this I lost my faith?

She sits down next to me. On a chair, in her kitchen, her apartment. The first place we ever went to do something besides talk. As familiar to me now as my own place. I feel protected here.

And she looks at me as she takes my hand. I remember this feeling, like the first time she caught my eye. God, she's beautiful.

"I know they're your parent's Renee but anyone who stops loving you because of something you can't help, isn't someone you should be around."

I lift my head just a little, just enough to see her more clearly through my bangs. Just enough to see she understands. And she does.

"But I know that doesn't help the fact that the people who raised you turned their backs on you."

I figure I should say something. Damn it, I should say something. But I slide the chair closer and slip me arms around her as I lay my head on her shoulder. If I say anything, I know I'll start to cry. She's never seen me do it. She never will if I can help it.

"Come on, Renee. It's been a long few days."

And she leads me back into the bedroom, still close to me. I remember giving her much better nights here than this.

She closes the door to a crack and turns back to face me. Same soft smile.

She slips her shirt off and I follow suit. She gets us some of her Pj's, apologizing for the shortness of the pants, trying to get me to smile. I wish I could for her. Realizing it's in vain, she picks up the shirt off the bed and steps closer to me. I put it on and wrap my arms around her bare shoulders, pulling her in. Just one kiss before we hit the sack.

I remember her facing me as we fell asleep that night. She reached her hand out and laid her palm on my cheek before I was completely out. I know she looked worried.

:::::::::::::::

I slept at her place for a week before I went back and started sleeping in my own bed again.

"She can put up with you for that long?"

I turned to face Cris, sitting at the desk.

"What are you talking about?"

"I've phoned your place every night this week trying to see how you were doing, got your machine every time."

I was scared. Scared he was going to throw in with Burke and start in on Daria. I'm ashamed for thinking so.

"It's a…joke, you know…Daria putting up with you for a week…sort of insinuating you're a…pain in the ass."

Poor Cris looked like he was floundering. He's really not used to making jokes.

I smile after a while.

"She's got…some kind of patience."

He seemed content with that as his face went back to the serious calm I was used to and he handed me a file.

"Homicide and missing persons, just this morning."

He gets up but doesn't move like he normally does. He waits for me to move and walks behind me, just slightly to my right. I get the feeling he's daring someone to cause me grief as we walk through the squad room, even as he's briefing me.

I feel like there's some spark of normal just around the corner, even if it's just a spark. My life seems far too messed up right now to ever go back to normal.

Maybe I don't want to go back to normal. Maybe it works better this way.

:::::::::::::

"Hey, it's me."

"Are you okay?"

I pause.

"Yeah…do you wanna do something tonight?"

"You could come over, I'll-."

"No, I was thinking something more along the lines of going out, letting you take a break from feeding me."

That laugh, what it does to me.

"Going out…sounds great."

"Alright, I'll be over in a bit."

For the first time, we spend a night together out from closed doors. She dresses a little fancier. So do I. And I look at her like the center of my world she is all night, unafraid of the speculations of the people sitting around us. Unafraid Someone I know will see us, will see her.

She seems a little shy and I get the feeling it's because she's not used to this kind of attention from me. Christ, has it been that long?

"What's your day like tomorrow?"

I'm driving her to her apartment from downtown Gotham. She looks from the moisture clouded window sparkling in the street lights to me.

"I've got the next two days off, Sundays and Mondays-."

"Are like your weekend, I remember now."

"Why are you asking?"

I stare at the wet street ahead for a second.

"You seemed a little stressed out recently."

She stays silent for a second.

"You think a pastry chef has a stressful job?"

She says it a little low and she's looking out the window when I look at her.

I feel that same stab of guilt from what seems like so long ago.

Pulling up in front of the building, I throw it into park and get out, slipping off my jacket as I close the door. I run around and get Daria's door, help her out and try to shield her from the drizzle with my jacket. She smiles, closes the door and leans into me as we go up the steps.

We slip off our shoes and walk into her living room. And we stand there, looking at each other.

I feel like I should say something again with that same damn guilt in the back of my mind. But I don't and she doesn't show that she's disappointed in the least, choosing rather to come a little closer and put her hand on my collar, running her finger along the base of my neck.

My guilt took a backseat to other thoughts. I stepped forward and slipped my arms around her waist and pulled her close, tightly. I listened to the small noises she makes as I buried my face in her neck and laid my tongue across it. We couldn't get to her bedroom fast enough.

:::::::::::::::

I slipped my shirt over my head and pulled it down before I took my weapon of the nightstand. I stood looking down at her with it in hand. She was curled up in the sheets with her arms above them.

Sometimes I think I see her stir out of the corner of my eye just as I'm about to go but she's still the moment I look over. I can't tell if she's sad I'm leaving so early and not wanting to see me go or if she really is asleep.

I clip the holster to my belt and walk over to her side to kneel down beside her face. I put the palm of my hand on her cheek.

"I've been meaning to say thank you, Dee. I've been meaning to say more than that, but I don't know how, hell, I don't even know what it is…just…I love you."

I bend over to just touch her forehead with my lips.

"Don't go, not just yet."

She was awake and looking up at me through barely cracked eyes.

"You never hold me in the morning."

So I smile, I lean down and kiss her and I crawl over her to lay beside her, my left arm and leg over her body, holding her close. She slipped her hand into mine and kissed it. Somehow she seemed happier than I remembered in a long time.

I called Cris when I left an hour later and apologized for the fact that I'd be coming in late. He'd phoned again the night before. I told him I was doing fine as I left Daria's apartment.

I swear I heard the smile in his voice when he said he wondered why.