NOTES: Many thanks to Aya and TBoarder, for the lovely segment of “Truth or 
Dare” that sparked this one. That story can be accessed from 
http://www.geocities.com/titansfic/(story contains explicit m/f and f/f sex). 

Acknowledgment also goes to Jody Revenson for her fic “Nightwing and Oracle,” 
which can be found here 
http://www.crosswinds.net/~birdsofafeather/text/stories/oandn.html) (story 
contains explicit m/f sex). Though I wrote this one independent of her story, 
some of the feel is the same by virtue of the extremely similar theme. No 
infringement of Jody’s excellent work is intended. 

Miscellaneous and heartfelt thanks to Falstaff, Samy, PollyMel, Dannell, KayJay, 
and anyone else I missed for general encouragement and spot-commentary; and to 
Carmen for excellent beta and also for the comment, “This isn’t an AU, it’s the 
prequel before the main event.” We’ll see. :)

Archive: Ask first, please. A stand-alone spin-off of Aya and TBoarder’s “Truth 
or  Dare” (note at end). 
Disclaimer: All characters property of DC Comics. What I have done with them is 
mine. 
Note: Yes, Babs is for Dick, world without end, amen. But AUs are fun. 

Leaving Delphi
by Kerithwyn Jade ('rith) (kerithwyn@yahoo.com)

***

Barbara Gordon never answered the door without 
checking the video monitor first. Not anymore. 

Roy Harper stood outside in his typically casual way, 
leaning against the doorjamb. She buzzed the door 
open, and he came in. “Hey, Barbara.” He bent to kiss 
her cheek. “Ready to go? We’ve got reservations.” 

Just a few weeks ago they’d had fun at the Titans’ 
party--especially during the game of “Truth or Dare” 
that was more like a couple rounds of “Spin the 
Bottle.” She’d shared a terrific kiss with Roy when 
her turn came up. As they headed back to the others, 
he’d said, “I was wondering if you would like to go 
out some time, for real.” 

Her surprise hadn’t stopped her from taking him up on 
it, and he’d smiled with that so-irresistible charm. 
“I’ll call you.” 

And true to his word, he had. 

She’d prepared for the date with more than a little 
apprehension. She knew what this was really about, 
it’d been perfectly clear back at the party, and 
though she was looking forward to the evening she 
couldn’t help the anxiety from creeping up. It’d 
gotten so bad she’d even had to make a quick call to 
her therapist. The wise woman had done her best: 
“Anxiety is natural, as long as you don’t let it get 
in the way of doing what you want to do. It’ll only be 
a failure if you don’t *try.*” 

So she tried, and they’d had a nice time. Dinner, a 
slow walk--or in Barbara’s case, roll--around the 
city, and now they were back at her apartment. 

It’d been a long time since she’d done this, but she 
still remembered the ritual of it. “Come up for 
coffee?” 

“Sure.” His easy smile had everything of friendship 
and nothing of anticipation about it. 

In her kitchen she pulled out the cups and spoons, 
poured in the coffee, and watched him. He was poking 
around in that polite way, like he had nothing on his 
mind except some conversation and caffeine. And that 
was nice . . . except. . . . 

She tried to think of a way to broach the subject, 
then gave up. The direct approach worked better for 
her these days, anyway. “Roy, is something--did I do 
something . . . ” 

“Huh?” He glanced up at her, confused. 

“Last time, when we--at the party--I thought . . .” 
God, she couldn’t even say it. 

“Well. . . .” Give him credit for not pretending to 
ignorance. “I didn’t . . . I didn’t want to presume, 
or assume, or whatever--I had a great time, and I 
*like* spending time with you, just as friends.” 

The all-too-familiar heavy weight of despair began to 
settle on her like a cloak. “But you don’t want to be 
more.” 

Slow he might be, but when he finally got a clue, he 
didn’t waste any time. “Barbara--hey, no. I didn’t 
mean that, at all. Of course I--” he hesitated, 
reaching for the right words. “You know me, right? But 
I wasn’t sure if you really meant what--what I thought 
you did, at the party, and I didn’t want to push.” 

It was just politeness, then, and not the other. Thank 
God. “What, you? Roy ‘anything in a skirt’ Harper? 
When did *you* ever have trouble with . . . this kind 
of thing?” 

“When it’s someone I care about. When it’s a 
friendship I don’t want to mess up with assumptions.” 

She had to smile at that. They *weren’t* that close, 
not really, but his concern was genuine anyway. So 
much for his image. “Well, do you need an engraved 
invitation?” 

“No.” He moved over, lowered his lips to brush over 
hers lightly, then drew back. “I have to ask, though, 
what about you and Dick?” 

She was proud of how steady her voice remained. “He’s 
not here. We are.” She reached up a hand and brought 
his head down for another brief kiss. Even that light 
touch sent a pulse through her blood. 

When she let go, he had on a wicked grin. “Hang on 
then, honey, and I’ll show you my arsenal.” 

She giggled. “Roy, that’s a terrible pun.” 

“Yeah. But it’s almost a trademark, so I gotta use 
it.” He scooped her up and carried her into the 
bedroom, pausing only to move aside some of the 
equipment that hung over the bed, all the mechanisms 
that made it possible for her to maneuver into and out 
of the wheelchair. But only Harper would joke about 
it. “Ooh, kinky. I dunno if I’m up to hanging from the 
ceiling tonight, Barbara.” 

His irreverence startled a laugh from her. “Cute. Very 
cute.” 

“I know.” His eyes were so very green. He laid her 
down, drawing off her shoes, and kicked off his own 
before sprawling next to her. 

She ran a hand through his hair, enjoying the feel of 
it tickling her palm, the color of it against her 
skin. Almost like her own but a little coarser, a 
little brighter. 

He leaned in and kissed her again, deeply this time, 
and she let him push her back against the pillows, the 
heaviness of him against her upper body a feeling 
she’d almost forgotten, the simple presence of a body 
next to hers a welcome weight. 

His hand trailed down her face, over her neck, to the 
open collar at her throat. “May I?” 

“Please.” 

Slowly he moved down, one button at a time, barely 
touching what lay beneath. He drew back her sweater, 
glanced down and then back up with a truly evil smirk. 
“Front-loading, how convenient!” 

“Roy!” Barbara slapped at him playfully. 

“If I didn’t know better, Ms. Gordon, I’d think you 
accepted this date with the *express* intention of 
luring me into your bed. Why, I am shocked!” 

She started laughing. “That’d work better if it didn’t 
come from *you,* with your legendary reputation. . . .” 

“What, me?” His innocent look lasted all of three 
seconds before it dissolved into a smile of his own. 
“I don’t know about ‘legendary’ but I can show you 
what I know, anyway. . . .” 

“Show me.” Her voice had gone low, sexy, and she saw 
his eyes light up in response. 

He didn’t answer in words but instead with a flurry of 
kisses, mouth skimming against her neck, finding the 
most sensitive points. When she shivered he took the 
cue to linger, awakening long-neglected nerve endings 
with the sure touch of his tongue. 

Barbara could *feel* her body waking, remembering all 
the old responses, wanting more. She ran her hands 
over his back and tugged at his shirt; with a muffled 
laugh he sat up, pulled it off, and tossed it to the 
floor. The feel of him, just the warm human smell of 
him here in her bed--it was almost overwhelming, after 
so long. 

He held perfectly still as her hands drifted over him, 
letting her explore at her own pace. No need for 
haste, not at all. She pulled herself up by the broad 
span of his shoulders and leaned against him to catch 
his scent. His arms went around her, supporting her, 
and she sighed in contentment and rested her head 
against his chest. 

“Everything okay?” 

“Uh-huh.” Impishly she licked at his nipple and felt 
him jump. She did it again and Roy gasped, then with a 
quick twist of his fingers undid her bra and cupped 
her breast in his palm. Barbara looked up into his 
face, smiling. “They didn’t call you ‘Speedy’ for 
nothing, did they?” 

“Hey, now.” His eyes were laughing. “I may be quick on 
the draw but I know how to take it slow when it 
counts. I’m not in any hurry--are you?” 

“Oh, definitely not.” Barbara caressed his chest 
lazily, enjoying the feel of him. He hummed deep in 
his throat, a low vibration like the purr of a big 
cat. 

With one arm still around her he began to touch her 
again, the slight roughness of his hands--callused 
from the string of his bow--delicious against her 
skin. Her sweater and bra hit the floor next to her 
bed, his head dipped down-- 

His mouth, God, so good, hand strong on her back…but 
where was the other? 

She looked down past his head to see his left hand 
drawing circular patterns on her thigh…that she 
couldn’t feel. Hell. “Roy . . . ?” 

“Mmmm?” 

“I can’t . . .” He looked up at her, puzzled. “I can’t 
feel that. Your hand.” 

Dawning comprehension. “Oh.” And then, grinning--
“Well, how about *this?*” He tickled at her 
navel and she giggled reflexively. 

But what was best of all was that he didn’t get 
flustered or try to apologize, but just took it in 
stride. The virtue of experience, she thought, then 
forgot about thinking when his mouth found her breasts 
again. 

Sometime later he murmured against her skin. “Tell me 
what you can feel.” His hand swept over her torso, 
fell to her waist. “Here?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

His hand dipped lower. “Here?” 

She frowned. “No.” 

“Hey.” He reached up to smooth the lines from her 
forehead. “Last thing I want to do is hurt you, or 
make you uncomfortable.” 

She looked into his face, all concern and shadowed by 
his mop of red hair, and thought: I could fall in love 
with you. Just a little bit, just for tonight. “Come 
back up here and kiss me.” 

“Yes, ma’am!” He drew up, gathering her in his arms, 
and kissed her. His mouth was warm, gentle and 
knowing, drawing out her responses, stealing her 
breath. 

She *remembered* this, she knew the mechanics of it, 
all the things that *hadn’t* changed. Hands, mouth, 
and simply being able to judge what he wanted-- 

She ran her hand over his chest, then lower. He 
groaned. 

Barbara saw his emerald eyes go dark, and knew: Yes. 
This will be right. 

It was. 

***

Morning


Barbara woke early--long habit, not easily 
forgotten--and looked at the man sleeping next to her. 
In the morning’s light Roy’s face was unguarded, 
reminding her of the gentleness he’d shown last night. 
She smiled at the memory. 

Before they’d fallen asleep he’d brought her chair in 
from the kitchen. He didn’t wake as she moved from the 
bed; he slept like a child, innocent and oblivious. 
Which was pretty ironic, considering the night before. 

Even such a simple thing as using the bathroom took 
far longer than it should now, so it was just as well 
that Roy was still sleeping. Once finished she pointed 
her wheelchair toward the kitchen, intending to put 
the coffee on, and then turned around and headed back 
to the bedroom. There was a man in her bed, a very 
attractive and attentive one, and she wasn’t about to 
do anything to hurry him out of it. 

She watched him sleep, musing. She’d never thought of 
herself as casual about sex, and most of her previous 
experiences involved someone who she’d cared about as 
more than a friend. That wasn’t true here, but last 
night had felt right nonetheless. 

Since her injury she’d been skittish about the 
subject. She’d frankly resigned herself to being 
alone, the untouchable Oracle, until some well-chosen 
words from her therapist and some online research had 
made her reconsider. And then the party, and a moment 
with Roy full of possibilities, and. . . . 

And here they were, and she felt *good.* 

He started to stir, eyes opening to find hers, and he 
smiled with genuine pleasure on seeing her. 
“G’morning. Been up long?” 

“Not too long.” 

He patted the empty spot next to him. “C’mon back.” 

She lifted herself into the bed and settled into his 
arms. She’d missed *this,* too; not just sex, but the 
closeness of another body before and after. 

“Feel good?” 

She laughed up at him. “Fishing for compliments, 
Harper?” 

Roy grinned. “Nah. I don’t *need* you to tell me. I 
knew it anyway.” 

“Arrogant. You’re just lucky I’m too comfortable to 
swat you.” 

“You never know. I might like it.” He kissed her, 
stopping her retort. Arrogant, yeah, but good *lord* 
the mouth on that man! Might almost be worth putting 
up with-- 

She shook a mental finger at herself. It’s just your 
hormones talking, Babs. You’d kill him in a day or 
less. Don’t even think about it. 

They lay in cozy silence for awhile until he cleared 
his throat and said, almost hesitantly, “So…” 

“What?” 

“So I’m kinda curious. What’s going on with you and Dick?” 

She frowned. “I don’t know what you’re . . .” 

“Sure you do. You love him. He loves you. What’s the 
problem, Barbara?” 

“Oh, come *on,* Roy!” Suddenly all the anger of her 
injury was right there again. She yanked herself out 
of his embrace and waved a hand toward her useless 
lower half. “Politically correct bullshit aside, you 
really think he’d be happy with a *crip--*” 

He put a hand over her mouth. “Stop it. He *loves* 
you, it’s blindingly obvious to all of us. He doesn’t 
care about that.” 

“No? You don’t think?” She gave a short bitter laugh. 
“He’s a young, healthy, horny man. How long would he 
put up with a girlfriend who can’t--” 

Roy squeezed her hand. “Honey, I was with you, 
remember? Just last night? I got nothing to complain 
about. There’s more to sex than that.” 

“Right. Sure. But do you want to give it up forever, 
Roy? No. And I wouldn’t ask it of him. So there we 
are.” 

He shook his head slowly. “I think you’re 
underestimating him. I don’t know what else to say, 
except that Robbie really loves you, and if you love 
him, you can make it work.” He was silent for a 
moment. “I wish you’d try.” 

There was something wistful in his tone. “Why?” 

“Because he’s one of my oldest and best friends, and I 
want to see him happy. And maybe I haven’t known you 
as long, but I like to think we’re friends, and I want 
to see you happy too. I’m not sayin’ it’ll be easy, 
but jeez, Barbara, if someone loved *me* like that . . . 
I’d do everything I could to give it a shot.” 

Nothing but honesty in his voice, pulled over his own 
longing. “I--You really think. . . .” 

“I really do.” 

Yes, dammit, he was right. Most of her objections were 
ways of covering up other issues, deeper issues, 
because she *knew* that Dick really didn’t care about 
her paralysis. What it was about-- 

She wasn’t prepared to deal with, not right now. And 
the easiest way to not-deal-with-it was to turn the 
tables on this conversation. Barbara glanced over to 
see Roy watching her face, obviously concerned that 
he’d stepped over the line. 

“So what about you and Donna, anyway?” 

He blushed. He actually *blushed!* “We’re, um, taking 
it slow?” 

“Really. *You?*” 

“Yeah, well. She’s got a lot of things she’s trying to 
sort out.” Even the Oracle couldn’t keep that story 
straight, something about Donna being an avatar of 
Wonder Woman and having lived a thousand different 
lives. “She’s trying to figure out who she is, and she 
needs a little space to do it.” 

“But you’re still interested, right?” 

“Yeah. Definitely. She’s . . .” He flushed again. 
“Wow, that’s crass, huh? Talkin’ about how great 
another woman is while I’m here with you.” 

Barbara smiled. “I asked first. And she is special. I 
hope it works out.” She eyed him speculatively. “In 
the meantime. . . .” 

##Deet.## 

Oh, no, not *now*… 

##Deet. Deet.## 

Barbara let out a sigh of frustration and peeled 
herself off of Roy. “I’ve got to get that. Batguys 
calling.” 

Roy nodded ruefully. “Here, let me help.” He picked 
her up and carried her over to her computer array. She 
switched it on, image her-side-only, and laughed to 
see Dick Grayson on the other end staring into his 
darkened screen. She pulled on a long shirt, draped a 
blanket over her legs, and glanced around to see Roy 
pulling on his pants. Oh, this ought to be fun. . . . 

She clicked on the connection. “Hey, Former Boy 
Wonder.” 

“Hi, Babs.” Whatever he was going to say next was lost 
when he spotted Roy over her shoulder. She saw him 
take it in: her barely dressed, Roy only half, and 
that look of surprise was just *priceless.* 

“Roy?! What are you doing--” he blurted, and Barbara 
almost broke down laughing right there. 

Roy waved casually toward his Titans teammate. “We had 
a date.” 

This really was a unique opportunity; Dick was rarely 
so *completely* flustered. “Uh . . .” 

Barbara smiled at him brightly. “It was *lovely.*” 

“Um, right, I’ll, uh, call back later. . . .” 

“Don’t be silly. You’ve got me on the line, Grayson, 
what are you gonna do with me?” Behind her, Roy choked 
and tried unsuccessfully to stifle the sound. 

“‘What am I’--Babs, I think maybe I really should hang up now...” 

She shrugged. “Your dime, Bat-boy. You know where to 
find me.” Dropping her voice to a seductive purr, she 
added, “And you can call me . . .anytime.” 

Dick blushed bright red and shut off the connection. 
Roy burst out laughing. “Oh, you are *evil!*” 

She grinned. “Well, I can’t make it too easy for him.” 

“Wow. Anyone who can keep Robbie off-balance like 
that--I’m impressed, Barbara.” 

“Long practice.” She hesitated for a second. “Roy, I 
wanted to say . . . thank you.” 

“Huh? For what?” 

“For this.” She waved vaguely toward the bedroom and blushed, 
just a little. “I haven’t--since this happened, I haven’t been 
with a man, I wasn’t sure--” 

“Oh, my pleasure. *Believe* me.” The words were flip, but his 
expression and the touch of his hand to her cheek weren’t at all. 

“But hey, listen. I promised Chanda I’d get back to Lian by noon. 
You wanna come with? She’d love to see you. And the rest of the 
guys, too.” 

“. . . I shouldn’t.” 

He nodded toward her monitors. “You can take a break from all 
this. Everyone takes a day off, once in a while. Even superheroes.” 
He considered. “Except the Batman. And if you ask me, that man’s 
cowl is on too tight.” 

She laughed, and suddenly the decision seemed easy. “All right. 
But you know . . . we don't have to leave right away." 

"Read my mind, lady." And he set about proving it. 

The Oracle had *definitely* gone offline for the day. 

End