Damn it.

It was supposed to be a normal night. Taking out some kind of drug ring of low level goons. Then he met that damn woman. She was fast and smart and witty. He should’ve known from her moves alone that she was trained by the Bat himself but he’s still a man and that tight black suit was very distracting.

Next thing he knows they’re crashing into his apartment and slamming up against every possible surface in a night of hot, sweaty, intense, loud fun.

It was only when he woke up that he noticed the familiar symbol on her tool-belt that was thrown on the floor last night and the reminders of his wonderful, wonderful mistake in red marks all over his skin and in the warm body fast asleep beside him.