To explain Jason Todd and Zatanna Zatara’s relationship is to attempt to capture love in a bottle. That’s to say, I mean, that it’s impossible to properly describe the factors and feelings that it entailed, but I’ll do the best I can.

He’d never know why he stepped into the bar; to this day, he’s not sure. Something changed his mind-he had been headed home, after a long night at the office-but for this reason or another, he ducked inside The Looper, the nightclub in question. There, halfway into a bottle of the finest vodka Gotham could produce, he’d locked eyes with a stage magician on her last show of the night. The magician, of course, was Zatanna. You could call it love at first sight, of course; many would. To the man, however, it was more the start of an obsession, one that would forever reshape the path his life would take.

Immediately after the show, he’d approached her with a smile and an arrogance that no one she’d met would ever match. Some small talk, a few more drinks, and the pair were taking a taxi back to the closest safe house Jason owned. Small, but well furnished, the house contained a queen sized bed that the two of them shared almost immediately. The morning afterward, Jason woke to find takeout on the table, and a still-nude Zatanna munching on General Tso’s spiciest pork. This casual air would set the tone for their relationship; for the rest of the months they’d spend together, up until the Event, they didn’t argue once.

The next night, she was performing again, and Jason was front row. The things she could do! It was incredible, really-impossible. Still, magicians don’t tell their secrets, and he knew about keeping them. So the routine began. She’d perform four times a week, 11 to 3, all over Gotham. He’d patrol as Red Hood during her on nights, cutting his circuit short as soon as she was done. The nights she was off, they’d spend in bed, or off following whatever whims Zat had for the evening. And they were many, as you must understand. She was all moonbeams and mysterious smiles and unbridled passion; he was dark and cynical and doubt and barely restrained distaste at the chaotic nights she had.

“No, Jay, it’s not just a psychic, he’s a friend! He can tell you things about yourself that you didn’t even know were true!”

“Jason, just come with me, okay? The show is really tasteful, I promise. Just cause they got banned from Broadway doesn’t mean it’s porn on stage!”

“The food here is great, just go with it. Yes, I know that the building is condemned.”

He stopped resisting soon after the tangle with the cops-that had been an adventure. Still, even someone as meticulous as Jason couldn’t deny the fun that her particular brand of spontaneity brought.

They soon accepted that both had pasts that weren’t kosher. Jason, from his death and resurrection to his League training to his kill count to his vigilante activities, would evade and change the subject the few times she pried. Her, with her actual Homo Magi pedigree, wasn’t able to give details. That worked, too. Mysterious was sexy, and it only served to increase the chemistry and attraction the two had for the other. Sure, there were times that got awkward.

“Jason, what does Redstone Security actually do? Everyone says you’re private security; that means mercenaries, right?”

“Zatanna, how the hell did you get us past security? This concert has been sold out for weeks! All you did was whisper in the guard’s ear. The fuck?”

“Jay, these bloodstains aren’t gonna come out. You sure it’s all from a nosebleed?”

“Zat, Honey. You made dinner in the time I showered. I know for a fact, you can’t roast a pig in fifteen minutes.”

The prods for information were all handled with the awkward graces of a homeschooled teenager, stammered excuses and lame attempts at explaining the impossible. They both let the other’s reasoning slide, because neither had any real desire to ruin a good thing. The result was an indefinite trust; both knew that they were only getting a portion of a whole, but neither was able to let their walls down far enough to let another in.

Vacations in France led to intimate moments, such as the time Zat let it slip that her father had disappeared on her eighteenth birthday. Once, during a candlelit dinner atop the Complex roof, Jason drunkenly serenaded her with the story of the Temple burning. Both were quickly moved past, as their love was not one for emotional support, but for passion and romance. Jason never attempted to dig further into her obviously clipped past, and she never questioned where exactly he’d been all those years overseas. 

The months passed, and Jason had slowed his Hood activities to the bare minimum. Zatanna had gotten a steady gig at a couple bars, and only performed twice a week now. He alternated between her days on for the Red Hood, not wanting to develop a pattern that she could follow. Kory and Roy weren’t happy about this; they’d grown to rely upon their friend and leader. Still, love was strange, and neither could change his mind one way or the other about Zatanna.

After almost six months of this romance, Gotham’s Curse struck again. At a commemoration of the one year anniversary of the Batman’s sacrifice, both Arkham and Blackgate were set loose upon the gathered citizens, forcing Jason’s hand. Donning the hood he always kept stashed in his truck, he set out on a purely defensive mission to defend the innocents being attacked. He didn’t miss a single shot; after the initial volley of inmates, over one hundred lay dead at his feet. Unfortunately, Zatanna had been a witness to his rampage, and an incredulous accusation had left him unable to lie to the woman he loved.

“You’re the Red Hood? The murdering Outlaw smearing the good name of vigilantism that Bruce left for you?”

That night, after the smoke and bodies and blood running through the street had been cleared, they’d had their last conversation.  

“Zatanna, wait.”

She didn’t even look at him as she continued to throw her things into a massive suitcase, a blur of multicolored clothes that never managed to land outside the target. 

“No, Jason. You lied to me. You tarnished my dead best friend’s legacy, and you did it with willful abandon." With a snap of her fingers, the suitcase closed, and she was headed towards the door.

Snaking a hand forwards, he grabbed her upper arm in a grip firm enough to stop her in her tracks.

"I love you, Zat. Can’t we work this out?”

Her whispered words and the flash of light that surged outward from her hand told him otherwise. His world danced crazily around him, and he landed parallel with the floor. With a click of heels on hardwood, he watched Zatanna Zatara walk out of his life, not looking back once.

He laid there, silent tears seeping out of closed eyes, for what was probably close to an hour.

She took a cab to the airport. Destination: London. She wouldn’t set foot in Gotham again for several years.

That’s the story; a summary of what transpired between Jason Todd and Zatanna Zatara during their courtship. I’ve told it best I can, the ups and the downs.