Disclaimer: I don't own Batman. DC Comics and other affiliated companies do.

A/N: Just a little five hundred challenge thing that I did for over on livejournal. I don't know if I'm going to post this over there, though. It's not my best work by far, and I probably got Cass all wrong. I always wanted to write her though, so.

Dancing Dolls Everywhere

Sometimes she wishes that he would melt out of the shadows of the street, the ones that he has now immersed himself in so fully that she fears that he'll never get out. She knows that he watches sometimes, can feel the eyes on her. Once or twice she catches glimpses of him, but that's only because she is better than him and they both know it. Fighting is in her blood and he implanted it in his.

They'd be an odd pair, Cass knows this, but she still finds herself thinking about him at the most random of times, when she's watering her flower or listening to music. It's not long before he invades her dreams too, and she wonders if he does it on purpose. Jason would if he could-he's unpredictable and violent and all sorts of adjectives that should matter, but that don't to her. She's been around people like that her entire life, and she knows how to handle it.

But the fact that Bruce doesn't speak of him, the way Batman's body shifts to show his guilt and sorrow, that's the reason she doesn't seek him out. She's had enough of that in her life.

.x.

Eventually, though, Jason is the one that approaches her. She can sense him behind her-her training allows for that-but she doesn't turn around until he taps her on the shoulder. She reaches out for him then, a strike meant to hurt, beginning the dance that they both know so well. He stands his ground, isn't as fluid as Cass, which makes her think that they might be a good pair after all. She reaches behind him, but he blocks her strike before lunging into one of his own.

He doesn't hold back, which she appreciates, but he doesn't get a hit on her. Her training is superior-even Bruce called her perfect once.

He holds up his hand, the universal sign for stop so she does. "You're good," he tells her, not even breathing hard. He's grinning, and she can't help but notice the fact that there's something strange about the edge of his smile. It seems almost hallow, or carved out. "We'll have to do it again sometime." Their fight was fun for him, that much is obvious. Catching drug dealers must not be the same.

Cass nods, wondering if he'll have a starring role in her dreams tonight. She takes a breath and holds it in her lungs, not knowing what to say, but she likes the way the air burns when left in there too long, like a cake in an oven.

He's standing over her, so much taller. She can't help but wonder if he likes being this imposing. Probably. She doesn't really know much about him, but she feels like she does.

"I've always wanted to do this," he says, leaning in toward the naked skin of her cheek. Sometimes it feels strange to have part of her face so open after wearing her Batgirl suit for so long.

It's only natural for her to want to strike back, but she leaves her face where it is and doesn't move. His lips, they're cold, touch her cheek.

And then he's off and running, taking one of her first kisses.

She doesn't mind, though. They'll dance tomorrow.