Disclaimer: I own nothing.

I, Geeky, being of a sound mind, leave Kipples, my super beta, a pot of lip balm and a transformers USB drive. And an angry kitten capable of killing TB, sneakretively, of course. Yup!

Alright, this chapter is basically full of ideas that aren't my own. :D. At the end of the chapter, I will try to outline what idea came from whom. But special thanks to Hepburn and Miguel. For H- since you didn't like Rafa B., what about J. Mourinho? And for M-I think this time you shall have Alessandra Ambrosio.

I don't know how much longer I can sustain all this wackiness before it caves in over my head, if it hasn't already. Hope you guys enjoy it.

Chapter Five:

Is This Love That I'm Feeling?

Is this love that I'm feeling?

Is this the love that I've been searching for?

Is this love or am I dreaming?

This must be love, 'cause it's really got a hold on me.


The next day, Inspector Grayson returned to Arkham. This time when he went into Harleen's cell, she was sitting at her table, scribbling furiously in a notebook. All around her were balled up scraps of paper. Apparently, she had been working on whatever she was writing for a long time.

"Hey, Harleen."

Not looking up, she pushed a chair out from the table with her foot and called out, "Hey, Dick. Make yourself at home."

Sitting down next to her, he tried looking at what she was writing, but she kept moving, so that he couldn't see over her shoulder.

"What are you writing?"

"It's not ready!"

"Can I at least have a hint?"

"It's for Nightwing."

"Oh…I hate to say this Harleen, but are you sure that liking him is the smartest thing?"

Her pen stopped mid-sentence, and she looked up at him, her eyes blazing with fury.

Dick raised his hands defensively. "Alright, alright. Sorry I asked."

Five minutes later, Harleen slammed the pen down to the table. "All done!"

A little nervous, Dick timidly asked, "Do I even want to know what you wrote?"

"It's a love song."

Dick smirked and reached across the table for it, that is, until Harleen smacked his hand away. She grabbed the piece of paper and ran to the other side of the room. "No! This is for Nightwing's eyes only!"

Dick stood up and walked over to her. "If it's a song, how is he supposed to know what it sounds like?"

Harleen's hands dropped to her side, releasing the paper, which wafted over to Dick's feet. "I didn't think of that…I know! I can sing it to you, and then you can sing it to him."

She ran over to him, snatching the paper from his hand, which he had looked at long enough to know that the title of the song was I Found Love on the NightWing of a Dove. Grabbing his hand, Harlene pulled him over to her bed and had him sit on it.

Then she stood before him, cleared her throat about eight times, and opened her mouth. Dick was greeted with the most melodic and lovely singing voice he had ever heard. The lyrics were ridiculous and disgustingly sappy, and at first Dick was repulsed by their smarmy nature. But pretty soon he stopped listening to the words altogether. He watched as her mouth changed shape as she sang her tune. Her eyes conveyed so much emotion that at times, it looked as if she would start to cry. Throughout the song, she would beat her chest, in a style reminiscent of the same lady who sang the Titanic song. Dick didn't know her name, but he didn't really care. He was too busy admiring Harleen. He was still staring at her lips when she finished.


Dick shook his head to clear his thoughts and started clapping. "That was wonderful, Harleen. Where did you learn to sing like that?"

She dug her toe into the floor and started twisting it in embarrassment, refusing to make eye contact with Dick. "Oh, that. It was nothing."

"No really, Harleen. You have a beautiful voice."

"I majored in vocal performance in college but switched over to psychology because I thought I would make a better shrink than singer." She giggled a little sadly. "Guess I was wrong."

She sat down on the bed beside Dick. "Do you think he'll like it?"

"I'm sure he'll love it as much as I do."

"I really hope so, Dick." She let out a loud sigh, her shoulders rising and falling dramatically as she released her breath.

"That reminds me, Harleen. I spoke with Nightwing last night, and he wanted me to give you something."

The little songstress clapped her hands together, and her legs, which were dangling over the side of the bed, kicked up and down in excitement. "What is it? What is it?"

Dick fished out the gift from his jacket's inner pocket. Handing the present over to Harleen, she greedily took it and cooed over it. "I love them!" She placed the spectacles on her face and smiled up at Dick conspiratorially. "Don't tell him, but I don't really need glasses. I only wore them to look smart."

Dick grinned back at her. "I promise I won't let him know." Besides he had already discovered that from examining the broken lenses himself when he was looking for their replacements.

"Thanks, Dick. So what else do we need to go over?"

"If you could just tell me any more of Joker's hiding places or plans, that would be great."

Once that was out of the way, they had ten more minutes to kill before Ellen came back.

"So are you going to be here tomorrow?"

"I don't really have any reason to come back. I think I've got all the information I need."

"Oh." Harleen looked perplexed.

"Is something wrong?"

"I don't know." Harleen's eyebrows knit in confusion. "I want you to keep coming back. It gets a little lonely in here. Ellen's nice, but…"

Dick reached for her hand and took it in his own. "What about Nightwing?"

"I know I love him, but I think I like you too. Has anyone ever told you that you have really pretty eyes?"

He smiled at her. "All the time."

He leaned in to kiss her, but Harleen stood up with a shriek. "No, I can't do this! My heart belongs to Nightwing." Muttering more to herself than to him, she cried out miserably. "What will he think of me? He wants a good girl, and I'm being bad. Bad Harleen. Bad, bad, bad."

She was wringing her hands when Dick took them in his. "Harleen, it's ok. I won't tell him."

"Promise me."

"Harleen, I--"


"Alright, I promise."

"Good!" She started laughing loudly. "That's a relief. I was this close to making a huge mistake."

The time was approaching for Ellen to return, and Dick began walking toward the door, filled with disappointment.

"Wait! Before you go, could you pass on a message to Nightwing for me?"

"Sure, let me just ge--" Dick didn't get to finish his sentence as she jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist, which caused him to slam into the door. Her mouth attacked him, and Dick had never been happier to play the victim.

A few seconds later, Dick felt the wall behind him begin to move. Ellen was trying to open the door, but their bodies were preventing her from doing so.

"Is everything alright in there, Inspector Grayson? I heard a loud thump on the wall, and I wanted to make sure that you're ok."

Dick could barely speak because of what Harleen was doing to his neck. His voice almost cracking, he managed to say, "Everything's fine in here, Ellen. Could you give us a few more minutes?"

"Only if Harleen is ok with that."

"Yes, Ellen, I'm fine. Now GO AWAY!"

"Alright dears, I'll be back in five."

He brought his hands up to her face and removed her glasses. Then he took down her hair, which she had been kept under wraps in a tight bun. He smiled as she shook her head from side to side, letting her golden tresses fall down her shoulders and back and over his hands, which were now wrapped around her. They slowly sank to the floor, where they continued their make-out session.

Three minutes later, Dick put a halt to their activities. "Ellen's going to be back soon." Sitting up, he tucked his shirt back in and tried to smooth out the wrinkles. Then he looked over at Harleen and reached out his hand to smooth her hair, which had seen better days. Then he smirked at Harleen. "I don't know if I'll be able to pass that message on to Nightwing. I refuse to make out with a guy."

Harleen grinned up at him. "I think Nightwing's already received the message."

Dick looked at her in confusion, pretending to be dumb. "How could he?"

Harleen quickly put her hair back in place and stuck the glasses back on. Looking every part the psychiatrist she condescendingly said, "Do I need to spell it out for you? You are Nightwing."

"Last time I checked, I was Dick Grayson."

"Oh, you're him too. I'm not stupid. And I was right. You do have blue eyes."

"Harleen, I'm afraid you've got this all wrong. I know you really like Nightwing, and you probably feel guilty for what we've done, but I'm not him. If you're really worried about it, I promise I won't tell him anything."

"Whatever, Dick! I know how you superheroes are about your secrets. But before you leave, though…" Harleen pushed Dick against the door and wrapped her arms around his neck. "…I have another message for Nightwing. I love you, and I will never ever ever tell anyone your secret." Then she gave him another kiss, which ended when Ellen knocked on the door. As Dick walked out of the room, Harleen called out, "Don't forget to tell him what I said."

Dick left Arkham Asylum completely elated. He had more than a crush on Harleen Quinzel. To him, she was postively adorable, and he really liked the whole psychiatrist look she had going on. She was slightly off, but, only a little. Unfortunately, it wouldn't do to have her thinking that Dick Grayson and Nightwing were the same person. If Bruce found out, he would be dead. It was time to call in a favor.

Wally arrived at Fire's quarters at the pre-arranged time. Before he could lift his hand to knock on the door, she opened it and pulled him in by his shirt.

"Hello, Flash!"

She stared at him when he wouldn't say anything. "Do I need to give you something to loosen that tongue of yours?"

Flash's jaw dropped open, and he excitedly nodded his head up and down. He closed his eyes and waited for some of the medicine he had received yesterday.

His mouth started burning, and he wondered if this is what it would be like to play with Fire every single time. He wasn't sure he could handle it. The back of his throat itched, and he almost started coughing.

"You can open your eyes, silly man. It is only alcohol."

When he realized what was going in his mouth, Wally spit it out. "Blech. That tastes awful."

"Well, you are speaking now, are you not? Besides, you will be drinking a lot more very soon."

"…I don't know."

Fire looked perplexed and slightly disappointed. "I thought you were a party guy. Maybe you will not like Carnival."

Afraid that his date with Fire was about to end, Flash daringly boasted, "I'm not just a party guy; I am the party. Don't worry about me. The question is, can you keep up with the Flash?"

Fire dazzled him with a brilliant smile. "We shall see."

"So how are we getting there?"

"I do not know. Do you think it would be alright if we teleported there? Or would we get in trouble?"

"You're with me. As one of the founding members, I can do whatever I want. But I have another idea."


"How do you feel about riding the Flash express?"

Fire jumped into his arms, indicating that it was perfectly fine with her. "Let's go!"

They zoomed out of the Metro Tower and within seconds they were in a secluded alley of Rio de Janiero. Flash set her down gently. Staring at her ridiculously good-looking face, he grew nervous again. He twiddled his thumbs together, and Fire caught on to his discomfort.

Taking his hands in hers, she looked up into his eyes and said, "You should not be nervous. I like you."

"It's just that… I really shouldn't be seen partying in public as the Flash. And, well, you look like a supermodel, and I…don't."

"You are worried I will not like the way you look?"

Instead of answering her, he looked down at the ground in embarrassment, which Fire found endearing. "I don't think you should be so worried."

"Well, you see, I have this--" Fire placed a finger on his lips.

"Shhhhh." She brought her hands up to his face and slowly removed the mask. First, she uncovered his nose. When that was finished, she kissed it and giggled. "Your freckles are wonderful." Then she pushed the covering up past his eyes and smiled at what she saw. "Your eyes are green like mine!" And finally she pulled the mask completely off. Wally grinned bashfully at her.

"Sorry, it's so disappointing."

Fire stared at him, blinking a few times.

Feeling horribly self-conscious, Wally began to pull his mask back on. "I know. I look like a dork. I'm guessing you want to go back now."

"Your hair? It's red!"

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

"Sorry?! Ever since I was a little girl I dreamed of having a man with red hair! I love it!" She buried her fingers in it and energetically brought his mouth down to hers. Wally felt her tongue trail across his lips, and he started laughing. "That tickles." Realizing what an idiot he was, he quickly apologized.

"Do you not like it?"

"No! I like it!"

"Good. Now you must be quiet." She shut him up by doing the same thing again, occasionally sucking or biting on his lower lip. As Wally enjoyed her ministrations, he began to feel a little flushed. Not wanting Fire to know that he was starting to feel uncomfortable, he discreetly pulled at his collar, hoping to let some air into his suit.

It was only a temporary solution. Eventually, a droplet of sweat entered his eye, and it stung so badly, but he refused to stop. He didn't care if he was dying; he was not going to be the one who ended this kiss. Wally was on the verge of passing out, when Fire finally removed her mouth from his. As both of them desperately tried to pull oxygen into their lungs, they stared into one another's eyes. Wally grinned shyly at her and said, "Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?"

Keeping one hand around his neck, Fire began fanning herself with the other one. "No, it is me too." His eyes dropped down to her body, and they widened in fear. "You're…buring." Fire looked down, just as surprised as him to see her body engulfed in green flames. "So I am." She shrugged her shoulders at him, clearly unbothered by the event. "Oops."

Wally couldn't tear his eyes away from her body. He had never been this close to an inferno before, and it was kind of frightening. But then he slowly realized that he wasn't burning. It was hot, but he attributed that to Beatriz's kisses than to the actual flames that were covering her body. And the location of the tiny green fires did not help matters either. Realizing how rude he was being, and not wanting to be thought of as a pervert, he brought his eyes back to her. He was relieved to see that she was still smiling. "You are liking what you see, no?"

"Uh, yeah!"

"I am too." She help up her hand, and the Speedster tentatively placed his against hers, so that they were palm to palm. He watched in amazement as little green flames began to wrap around his fingers. Fire laughed. "They like you." Both Flash and Fire continued watching as the green lights danced along their fingers. "Flash?"

"Yes, Beatriz?"

"I have seen your face; will you not tell me your name?"

Flash didn't hesitate to answer. "My name is Wallace, but I go by Wally."

"Wah-leeee." He watched as she tried to say his name correctly, the sounds sweetly rolling off her tongue. Once she felt comfortable with her pronunciation, she said, "Wally, do you think…"


She took his other hand in hers and saw the same phenomenon repeat itself. Grinning seductively at Flash, she pressed the rest of her body against him, and pretty soon, they both were encapsulated in green light.

This time, it was Wally that began kissing her.

Diana had convinced Bruce that he needed to let her have more involvement in their wedding, and so she was sitting with him in his study, awaiting the arrival of the wedding planner.

"What did you say her name is?"

"Mrs. Stewart."

"What's her first name?"

"It doesn't matter. We can never refer to her as that, unless she gives us permission."

"Doesn't that seem a little odd to you, Bruce? Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Look, you're the one who wanted to be more involved, and now you are already questioning me."

"Sorry. It just seemed a little strange. And you know what else is strange, your behavior. Ever since you started planning this wedding, you've been a little off."

"Hmmm. I wonder why that is. Maybe it's the fact that my already knocked up fiancé won't let me sleep with her. That's just a guess, though. I could be wrong."

"There's no need for sarcasm."

"Well, unless you're going to sleep with me, don't complain if I get too involved with the wedding planning. I have to work out my frustration somehow."

"Is it really that bad?"

Bruce looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"

Taking pity on him, Diana walked over to Bruce and sat down on his lap. "I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it better?"

"No. Actually, you're making it worse."

"Poor Bruce." But Diana wasn't feeling sympathetic at all. She was determined to make things as difficult as possible for him.

They were interrupted by someone behind them clearing their throat.

But Diana and Bruce didn't hear it, or if they had, they were ignoring it.

"Is it customary for him to always have a woman attached to his face?"

"I wish I could say no, Mrs. Stewart, but unfortunately, this is nothing new."

"Oh, no need for formalities, Alfred. Please, call me Martha. Now how do we put out this fire?"

"Very easily, ma'am." The faithful butler walked over to his master and tapped him on the shoulder. They both looked over at him guiltily, before Diana slid off Bruce's lap.

Both of them stood at attention as they were sized up by the doyen of event planning.

She circled around them, examining them from all angles. After about the fifth time she had walked around them, Diana started losing her patience.

"Hi, Mrs. Stewart."

The lady kept on walking as if Diana hadn't said a word.

Diana was about to open her mouth to speak, when out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bruce glaring daggers at her. He silently mouthed, "No."

Finally, Martha Stewart spoke. "While I don't normally take on weddings that are less than two weeks away, I will make an exception for you, Mr. Wayne. But only on one condition."

"Name it."

"I want Alfred to work with me as my assistant."


Martha walked forward, took his hand, and gave it a firm and commanding shake. "Well, then, we have a deal. I suggest we get you and your lovely fiancé fitted for your wedding clothes."


"Have you decided which colors you want to use for the bridesmaids and groomsmen?"

Diana piped up, "Bruce and I had discussed red."

Martha laughed. "Red? No, that telegraphs the wrong message; it's common, a color for whores. I think you should go with various shades of blue. And maybe some gray."

Bruce looked over at Diana. If it weren't for the present company, he knew she would have smashed the triumphant look that was on his face.

"I agree, Mrs. Stewart."

"Mr. Wayne, feel free to call me Martha."

Diana took a step toward her. "Martha, ar--" Diana was stopped by the cold look the matronly maven was giving her. "Mrs. Stewart, are you sure there is no way we could incorporate red into the wedding. It's part of my uniform, and--"

"This isn't just about you, Wonder Woman. A wedding ceremony is about the joining of two individuals into one. You can't become one if you are only concerned about your selfish wants and desires."

Diana bit her lip to keep from saying things she was sure would get her in trouble.

"Here are lists of things you must do to prepare for the wedding." As they scanned their chores, Mrs. Stewart made her way to the door. "I will see you tomorrow. The lists better be completed by then." She clapped her hands twice, then said, "Alfred, come with me."

Truth be told, the old man was excited to pit his talents against the world's greatest homemaker. Lately his job had become a bore. Everything was rote, and there were no new challenges for him. Then all of a sudden, his ward was getting married, there was a baby on the way, and he was getting to work side by side with Martha Stewart. With an imperceptible spring in his step, he dutifully followed her out of the room.

Bruce and Diana were left alone. Wanting to pick up where they had left off, Bruce pulled her over to one of the couches. But Diana was not in the mood.

"I hate her."

"Don't be such a child, Diana."

"What?! She won't even let me call her Martha. I think she hates other females, and she is threatened by me."

"Can you blame her? You're the most beautiful woman in the world." Bruce leaned in to kiss her, but Diana put her hand up to his mouth.

"No. That only works once a month, and you've already reached your quota. I don't need you to suck up to me; I need you to stick up for me. I can't believe you didn't say anything! She practically called me a whore!"

"Diana, you're overreacting. It's only two weeks. We'll get through this. Now let me see your list."

Diana handed the piece of paper over to him. His eyes widened as he read it. "She sure has you doing a lot of stuff."

Bruce tried to stuff his list in his pocket, but Diana quickly grabbed at it. As she read his, she began to seethe. "How come mine is five times longer than yours? How can she expect me to…" Her mind overloading with anger, Diana was no longer able to form coherent sentences, so she let out a blood-curdling scream.

Bruce drew her to him and began tracing light circles on her back as she sobbed on his shoulder.

"Diana, everything is going to be ok."

"No it's not." Sniffle. "She wants me to…"—hiccup—"to get a bikini wax." SOB. "Have you ever had one of those?"

"Um…no, but you're the strongest person I know. I'm sure you'll be able to get through it."

"I'm scared, Bruce."

"Look, if it bothers you that much, don't get one. It's not like you need it."

"But what if she finds out?"

"Then we'll deal with it. Together."

"Bruce, you're such a good fiancé."

"I know."

"I promise I'll make it up to you."

"I know that too. Now let's go to work on our lists. I have a tux fitting to go to. Would you like to come with me?"

"I probably shouldn't. I have to get my hair cut."

"Just make sure it's not too short. I like you with long hair."

"Even if I wanted to defy you, you have no need to worry. I'm only allowed to get a one inch trim." Diana began to murmur Themysciran curse words under her breath.

"Will it make you feel better if I let you tell her that she's fired and can't plan our child's baby shower?"


"Ok. Just try not to kill her in the meantime, and don't tell her until the end of the wedding reception."

Diana let out a sigh. "Alright."

"Flash...Wally! It is time to go to Carnival." The Speedster looked up at Beatriz, completely lost in a daze.


"We are here to celebrate, and in this alley, we will miss everything."

"I'm feeling plenty festive right here."

"You will enjoy it. I promise."

Begrudginly, Flash let go of his Brazilian companion. "I wasn't really planning ahead when we came down here. I don't have anything to wear."

"It doesn't matter. That is why Carnival is spectacular. You can be the Flash, and no one will think it is you. Everybody is wearing masks too."

"Who are you going as?"

"Wonder Woman. Now turn around. I need to change. And no peeking."

Ever the gentleman, Flash did as he was told.

"I am alright now. You can look at me."

When he saw her, his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. She was dressed in the red, white, and blue of Diana's uniform, but instead of the warrior's typical outfit, Fire was wearing what looked like a bikini made out of a United States flag.

He let out of a low whistle and whispered, "God bless America."

She pulled his mask over his face. Then, grabbing his hand, she pulled him out into the streets. "Let's go!"

To Be Continued

To my anonymous reviewers!

E- I'm glad you are enjoying the song titles. I've kind of keep flopping back between classic rock and the hair bands of the 80s. I was so tempted to use Journey's Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin', but Whitesnake's Is This Love was too good to pass up. :D I'm glad you like these chapters. I am having difficulty keeping it ridiculous enough, though. It keeps flip flopping between real sentiment and goofiness. It's hard to sustain all the dorkiness, though I'm trying to shift it back in that direction.

Miguel- Thanks for letting me use your ideas! The least I could do is give you a mention. :D Hopefully, you will like this next supermodel just as much. I have another one in mind, though I think I'll need to come up with another one, because I think I have two more chapters left in this story. I'll be wracking my brains. If you don't mind, though, I'll take the Brazilian samba style futbol over the supermodels. :D Though I do have my very own Portuguese , soccer playing crush. Go, C.Ro! And as for what will happen with Fire and Linda...all I can say is that Wally will be in a very uncomfortable situation. But that's what he gets. Hell hath no fury, blah blah blah.

Hepburn- Harley singing Nightwing a song, and the title of the song. Flash and Fire partying at Carnival. And, of course, Martha Stewart.

Miguel- Basically, everything with Flash and Fire, excluding the location of their activities.

Thanks for your ideas, and I'll be using more of yours and Kipling-Nori's in the next chapter.