Carrie hated the whole mess surrounding Bruce. She hated that he could breeze in and out of their lives like he had. More than anything, she was angry with herself for not being able to hate him as much as she wanted to. No matter how hard Carrie tried, she couldn't quite hate Bruce like she wanted to. She hated the situation, she hated how she felt, but she just couldn't hate the man. It was frustrating.
So Carrie had been all set on going out for the night to punch things. When especially upset, there was nothing quite as satisfying as slamming a thug into a wall and making him cry out in pain. Even though Carrie had learned to tame herself when it came to fighting bad guys, she hadn't stopped being bloodthirsty. It probably should have bothered her a bit more that her first reaction to a bad situation was to lash out. But she just figured that this was something that came with the territory of being a Frank Miller creation.
With Dick behind her, his arms suddenly around her, the violence was slowly washing out of her system. She tilted her head a little to the side so he had more skin to kiss and stepped up on the tips of her toes to keep him from having to crouch too low. "Oh yeah? I think your wife is going to have a problem with this girlfriend thing." She slipped her hands over his and found that her voice came out soften than intended. Somewhere along the way, she'd gotten used to being married. It was a strange feeling that she might have focused a little more thought on if not for the breath on her neck and the warm body pressed up against her.