Preordained Chapter 3
Preordained
by DebC and Christina A
Summary: Bruce & Grace reunite after a painful 4-month separation and everyone’s lives are affected.
Chapter Three
Friday, January 14, 2005
Her head hurt.
That was the first thing that went through her mind when consciousness slowly crept up on her. Her head hurt badly. She instinctively moaned and put her hand to her forehead. Then she heard movement… felt silk surrounding her… remembered the stranger grabbing her… and briefly panicked.
“Here, Miss Grace,” Alfred’s quiet voice filtered to her. “These will help the pain.”
She opened one eye and saw the very familiar figure standing beside her. He was holding out some aspirins in one hand and a glass of water in the other.
“What…? How…? Why…?” She took the offerings and swallowed the pills with complete trust in the man who gave them to her. Resting her head back on the pillow, she tried again. “What happened?”
“You were set upon by a mugger is the story I was told.” He sat down in the chair that Bruce had occupied the night before. “A most unsavory character. I have never been particularly fond of your late night excursions. This is why.” He knew she responded to the ‘fatherly’ corrections favorably. He knew she would take it as concern, and perhaps the next time, she would think more clearly.
“I wasn’t thinking about anything, Alfred.” She rubbed at her eyes, willing herself not to cry. “I remember the man grabbing me. I was trying to go back inside, but was crying and couldn’t…” Here she fumbled as her voice hitched. “I couldn’t get the key in the damn door. He grabbed me from behind. And then… and then…”
Alfred sat, listening patiently as she spoke. He and Bruce had already discussed the ‘story’, so he was prepared for this.
“I thought I saw a man in a cape. But he wasn’t really a man…” She groaned. “It’s all a blur.”
“What you saw ma’am was simply a Good Samaritan in his winter coat. He heard your scream and stopped to help you.”
“He was just out and about at three in the morning?”
“You were.”
She nodded, clearly getting his point, but the action made her head hurt again. There were more questions racing through her mind… so much to ask. She must have remained silent and still for too long because Alfred started to get up. Reaching out, she took his hand before he could move too far away. “Please, don’t leave me alone. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed…” She choked back a sob. “Please stay.”
There was no way on this earth he could deny her. She was a shell compared to what she had been before. If his presence helped her, he’d stay as long as he was needed. “I shall stay, Miss Grace, if that is what you wish.”
“Thank you,” she said, more than extremely relieved. “How did I end up here?” she asked after he sat back down.
“I received a call from the man who saved you. He recognized who you were, knew of your…” he paused “… relationship with Master Bruce. Master Bruce picked you up and brought you here.”
Her heart skipped far more than one beat. Bruce had come for her. He had held her in his arms, and for a moment she was enraged that she’d been unconscious and not known it. How long had she waited to have his arms around her? Far too long. And the first time it happened, she was passed out cold. “He came for me?”
“He did,” Alfred replied. “He spent the night in this very chair, watching over you. He’s sleeping now only because I made him do so.”
She let her eyes slip closed for a moment, remembering how he worried over people he loved. How he hated being separated from Courtney and Lex when they needed him most! How the guilt of it ate at him! She remembered how terrified he was that he could lose them both. She knew that he’d lost Lex, but it was only the relationship that was over. Lex was still alive… so was Courtney. But Bruce didn’t handle well those he loved being hurt. So she could easily understand him running out in the middle of the night and staying up until he couldn’t stay awake any longer.
She could see him blaming himself for all of it too. “I still love him, Alfred,” she admitted. She hadn’t said that to anyone, but somehow, she knew the elderly man would understand. “I tried to be angry with him, but I couldn’t. I wanted to believe he was a monster, but I knew it was a lie. I love him. And even if he doesn’t want me, I know I’ll love him forever. And it hurts.” She rolled away so he couldn’t see her face. She felt ugly when she cried.
Alfred felt for the girl. He felt for Bruce too. If only the young man weren’t so obstinate. Oh, it helped in the business world, but in his personal life… Well, this was the result. Two hearts breaking. Two souls in pain. “Miss Grace…” He hadn’t actually been prepared to hear this. There were no practiced responses for this admission. He would have loved to ease her pain by telling her that Bruce still loved her. He would have liked to tell her that her actions resembled Bruce’s in many ways. Instead, he stood and said, “Let me get you something to eat. I won’t be gone long. I promise.” He waited for her to nod before heading for the door. His hand was on the knob when he paused to say, “Search your heart, Miss Grace. You know him. You know him far better than he’s allowed anyone to know him. Use that knowledge. It should tell your heart all you need to know.”
It wasn’t until she heard the door close behind him that she looked over at where he had been. Bruce had sat up with her all night, worried over her. She looked up at the ceiling. This had been her room. Her belongings were gone, and she vividly remembered the day they were all packed up. She remembered every second of that day. She remembered that Bruce hadn’t been around.
Had he not wanted this breakup? If he hadn’t, why had he done it? Why had he deliberately caused himself pain, and her more pain than she’d felt in her entire life? The physical beatings Bill had given her never hurt as badly as this did. Physical pain went away. The emotional ache within her never seemed to ebb. And Bruce knew he had hurt her, but he hadn’t said he was wrong, he hadn’t told her he changed his mind. Why?
Bruce freaked when those he loved were hurt. Lex’s car accident had left him numb. Courtney’s cancer diagnosis had left him bereft. He’d told Grace repeatedly that she was the only light through that entire time of darkness. Yet a short year later, he’d looked at her and told her he thought she should go back to her apartment. She’d thought the light extinguished.
Yet, one call from a Good Samaritan, and Bruce had come rushing to her side. He’d sat up with her, worrying over her, no doubt, much as he had when he was worrying over Lex or Courtney. ‘You know him far better than he’s allowed anyone to know him. Use that knowledge.’
Bruce still loved her. That thought should have caused her bliss, if she didn’t honestly believe he had never stopped. He’d loved her when he asked her to leave. So loving wasn’t the problem. ‘I’m leaving for Europe,’ he had told her just before he left when Courtney had cancer. ‘I can’t tell you where… I can’t tell you for how long. But I have to go… alone. It’s dangerous, and I can’t risk taking you with me. I love you too much.’
He loved her, but kept her separated from the danger. Once it had passed, he’d sent for her. She’d stayed with him for the remainder of his business. No matter how much he’d wanted her with him, he wouldn’t let her come until he was sure she would be safe. “What are you doing, Bruce?” She sat up slowly, pressing her fingers to her temples to help with the throbbing. “Do you honestly believe you’re protecting me?” Looking toward the end of the bed, she wasn’t surprised to see that Alfred had left her a robe. She didn’t ask where the change of clothes came from. Alfred had his ways and she’d learned not to question them.
Ever so slowly, she got out of the mahogany sleigh bed. She’d loved this bed. She’d loved this space. Mostly, she’d loved knowing she was sharing it with him. Bruce… who for whatever reason had let her go, not because he didn’t want to be with her, but because he felt she’d be safer… better off… without him. Why? She picked up the robe and stood on wobbly legs, looking at the door. He was across the hall, sleeping. How many steps did it take to get there? They’d jokingly counted that he could get from his room to hers in five long strides… if he were properly motivated.
She looked down at the robe again. She should take a bath. ‘You know him.’ She wanted to tell Alfred to shut up, that he wasn’t helping any. Alfred, who wouldn’t push Bruce if he looked even the slightest bit annoyed, would push her without a second thought. Why had Bruce asked her to leave? Why had he rushed out in the middle of the night to help her? Why did he bring her here instead of calling Courtney or Seth and having one of them sit with her at her apartment? Why?
The robe was not going to give her any answers. The only one who could was sleeping in the room across the hall. Five long strides equaled about fifteen steps.
She didn’t knock before entering the room. She knew he preferred to sleep in the nude, and although he wasn’t hers to touch freely, it wasn’t as if she’d never seen him in the flesh before. And right now, her need for answers outweighed wondering how she’d react to seeing that beautiful nude form… to seeing him and knowing she couldn’t touch him.
Opening the door, her resolve melted completely as she saw him lying on the bed. Fully clothed, hair a beautifully rumpled mess, he looked spent. He was curled into a tight ball, arms wrapped around his legs. The comforter had been tossed off the bed, she assumed while he was sleeping. And his sheet was hanging half on the floor.
Her heart broke all over again. She hadn’t seen him since that day. Timidly, she moved into the room and got a better look at his face. Dark circles were under his eyes. His face, though he was still very young, had creases… worry lines she called them. She stopped beside the bed bending down so she was more on level with him. She couldn’t help it; she couldn’t resist the urge to reach out to him.
So she gave in to it. Very lightly, she reached out and brushed a stray hair from his face. “I love you,” she said softly, a silent tear slipping down her cheek. “Do what you must, Bruce? But I can’t let you push me away.” And she couldn’t, not after having proof that he still loved her that he still cared.
She stood just as silently as she had knelt down and headed back for the door. He was as exhausted as she had been. She’d take a bath, eat, and wait for him. She’d wait for him forever. As she reached the door, she heard him rustling on the bed. Turning back, she stood completely still. “Grace,” he cried out. He moaned, rolled onto his other side and kicked at the sheet. “Grace,” he called out again.
She leaned back against the door and it slid silently closed. She shouldn’t be seeing this. She shouldn’t be watching him wrestle with the dream. She shouldn’t hear him calling out for her. And she sure as hell shouldn’t go over there and offer him comfort. But she loved him. How could she walk out now? ‘I think you should consider moving back into your apartment.’ She should walk out.
“Grace, no,” he called out again. It was like a beckoning cry. The light through the darkness lighting her way to the shore. As quickly as it started though, his thrashing and calling out ended. She watched for a few more moments before finally getting up the courage to leave the room. She shouldn’t have witnessed that, and she’d take it to the grave that she had.
Of course, she couldn’t keep it a secret that she was in there as Alfred was standing outside her door when she stepped into the hall. Looking guilty, she tried to explain, “I… uh… I was going to…”
Alfred shook his head. “No need to explain to me, Miss Grace.” Lifting the tray slightly, he said, “I brought you something to eat. If I remember correctly, this is your favorite sandwich. And I put plenty of vegetables on the tray as well.”
She rushed across the hall and opened the door for him. “You put enough on that tray to feed an army, Alfred.”
He looked at her pointedly. “And you need to eat enough for an army. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve lost way too much weight.” He paused. “If you don’t mind my saying so.”
She shook her head. “I don’t mind. Everyone says so. But I can’t eat if I’m not hungry. I haven’t been hungry in months.”
“You should eat.” And that was all he said as he placed the overflowing tray on the table and said, “I took the liberty of calling Mistress Courtney to let her know where you were and that you were safe. She said to tell you to call her if you need her.”
“Thank you.” She started to head for the bathroom but stopped. “Alfred?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Should I stay? I mean, until he wakes.”
Inwardly, he smiled. Outwardly, he said, “I think you should do whatever you need to do. You, of course, are welcome to stay. You need to eat and a good rest wouldn’t do you any harm.”
She nodded, and watched as he left. She’d stay. If for no other reason, then to thank Bruce for rescuing her. It would be awkward, but she had to do it. Her father had always said she was stronger than she realized. Talking to Bruce again would be hard, but she had to do it. So she took her bath, ate more food than she had in weeks, and ended up back on the bed, getting the rest Alfred said she so desperately needed.
*-*-*
Bruce awoke with Grace’s name on his lips, though this wouldn’t have been the first time for that. He’d dreamt about her as well though that, too, had not been a new experience. He had not been lying to Alex when he said he’d missed her.
What was new, however, was the nature of the dream. In it, he’d informed her that he thought she should leave the Manor, much as he had in real life, and the moment she exited the front gate, a hulking figure –the mugger from last night, only grossly overblown by his frantic mind– grabbed her, killing her before his eyes. He’d been helpless to stop it, and she’d died in his arms.
“Grace…” he whispered again. Had he not been there last night… who only knew what might have befallen her? “My sweet Grace.”
He eased from the bed, nearly tripping over the comforter than he’d cast off in his fitful sleep. Stripping out of his rumpled clothes, he padded to the bathroom and turned on the hot water for the shower. When the water was steaming, he stepped into it and closed the glass door.
It felt good… like the steam was carrying away the fog in his head. He stood there forever, letting the water pound his body. After a while, he reached for the soap, and washed thoroughly. Then the shampoo. Pouring a large dollop in his hand, he inhaled and smiled softly. Grace had always loved his herbal shampoo. She’d loved to smell his hair after he shampooed, loved running her fingers through it. He’d loved letting her.
God, he’d missed her so much. He loved her and, after last night, he knew he couldn’t go on like this. He couldn’t let her walk out of his life again.
Although that, he admitted with a groan, implied he could even get her back. He’d been so stupid. She’d loved him and how did he repay her love? Her trust? He’d failed her, yet again. Like the only time he’d failed to meet her eyes, the one time she’d needed him to. He’d failed her, and turned aside her love. Why would she even consider coming back to him, forgive him even, after what he’d done to her?
Hot water washed his tears away from his face as swiftly as they fell from his eyes.
*-*-*
Alfred was exiting Grace’s bedroom –it was still hers in his mind, would always be hers– when he finally left the bedroom. He was clean and casually dressed in jeans and a Gotham University sweatshirt. He hadn’t actually attended the school, but several charitable donations had earned him an honorary doctorate and a lifetime supply of sweatshirts.
“Good afternoon, Master Bruce,” greeted Alfred. The older man was happier than Bruce had seen him in a while, and given Alfred’s ability to keep his true emotions hidden, that was huge.
Bruce knew it was because of their houseguest. He cast a glance at the door Alfred had just closed behind him. “Is she…? How…?”
“She’s doing fine, Master Bruce.” Alfred assured him. “A bit of a headache, but that’s to be expected. She’s got a nasty looking bump on her forehead.”
He nodded, wondering if he should go in and see her; and if he did, what would he say.
“She’s resting presently,” the other man informed him, as if reading his mind. “And you…” Here Alfred fixed him with an authoritative look. “Haven’t eaten anything all day.” Bruce started to protest. He wanted to be with her, at least until she awoke. “Off with you, Master Bruce. Go and eat. Miss Grace won’t have gone anywhere while you have a sandwich.”
*-*-*
The morning and afternoon editions of the newspaper lay on the table in the kitchen. Bruce sat his plate down next to them, flipping to the police reports. They said only “mugger apprehended” without giving details. Alfred entered the room with a tray, which Bruce presumed must have come from Grace’s room. He wondered if she were awake now, or had Alfred retrieved the tray without waking her?
“Page 12-A of the afternoon edition might be of interest, Master Bruce,” he commented as he set to cleaning the tray.
Bruce nodded and turned to the page in question. There was a small blurb about his two recent –including Grace’s attacker, who was now resting in the Gotham Hospital under police guard until he was ready to be moved to a jail cell– apprehensions. The mugger from the other night, and a small time car thief. Both of them had spoken to the police of a “costumed freak” who had foiled them without the use of weapons. The snippet of an article speculated about it being the start of an urban legend.
“Rumors,” he commented to Alfred, who was now pouring them both steaming cups of tea. “Nothing but rumors.” He paused, and then looked up from the newspaper. “Did Grace… say anything about it?”
Alfred nodded gently. “She believes she saw a caped figure. I suggested that perhaps she’d confused the Samaritan’s winter coat for something other than what it was.”
Bruce sighed. He wished there was another way. Miles was a good man, and under his term as mayor he’d passed two strong crime bills, but as a politician, he could only do some much. As a special interest lobby, Bruce also could only do so much; and more often now, he seemed to lose those spoken battles. The people of Gotham had grown used to their orphan prince, his story too familiar and less tragic as years passed. Now they looked to him to fill his late father’s shoes and it mattered not what had come to pass that he even had to.
“I know, Master Bruce. I know.” Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder as he set a cup of tea in front of him. Bruce hadn’t said a word, but he knew that Alfred had understood anyway.
*-*-*
Bruce stood in the doorway, watching over Grace’s sleeping form. In the daylight, she seemed even smaller and more emaciated than he had thought the night before. It scared him to think that their break up had caused this. It *hurt* him to think that he had caused this.
But he had, and now he was at a loss when it came to how to fix what he had broken. It wasn’t just their relationship, or even her heart, that he’d rendered damaged. It had been her… all of her. He saw that now.
Looking at her like this, Bruce thought he knew why Seth always seemed to bite his tongue when he was present and why he regarded Bruce with such disdain. Courtney, a complete converse of her husband, had never ceased to give support or comfort, but in reality, it was Seth who had the right of it. He did not deserve her concern nor her comfort. His heart ached to see what he’d done to the woman he loved more than life itself. That pain –sharp as a knife to his chest– was all he deserved from anyone.
“I’m so sorry, Grace,” he softly told her, although she couldn’t hear it. Sorry, however, would never change what he’d done to her. Moving into the room as stealthily as his nighttime persona navigated the streets, he came to stand by her bedside. His hand was shaking as he reached out and smoothed her hair away from forehead. The bump Alfred referred was clearly visible and darkening into an ugly bruise.
If that were worst she suffered from her attack, he would be grateful.
*-*-*
Courtney set down the receiver and crossed the hall from her office to her husband’s. He was on a conference call with two clients, discussing the latest fast food chain account. This one wouldn’t just be national; it would be international. By the look on his face, he’d not only secured the account, but was going to head the campaign himself. It was something he rarely did now, except for Grace’s accounts, running the entire branch simply took too much time. He waved for her to come in, offering her a loving smile.
When he was finished, he used the intercom to tell his secretary to hold his calls. “You don’t look so good, Court. You feeling okay?”
She nodded. This could open up a whole can of worms she wasn’t exactly sure how to deal with. Inhaling deeply, she decided to just jump in. It was her way after all. “Alfred just called.”
Seth’s voice went a bit flat. “Yeah?”
“Grace was attacked by a mugger last night.” She watched as his eyes went wide and he stood. When Seth was concerned or agitated, he tended to pace.
“Why would Alfred call you and tell you that? Why wouldn’t we have gotten a call from the police?”
“Alfred called because she’s at the manor.” She didn’t let him respond, just kept talking. “Apparently someone was passing by when the attack occurred. He stopped it and recognized her. For whatever reason, he found the listed number to the manor and called Bruce. She wasn’t hurt too badly just a nasty bump on the head. He picked her up and took her back to the manor. She was sleeping when Alfred called.”
“Why did he take her to the manor, Courtney? Why continue to put her through this? He ended it. He kicked her out. And now he runs to her side to be her savior only to send her packing again.”
“You don’t know that,” she said softly. “I think he got the call and got scared that she was seriously hurt. I think he brought her back to the manor so he could help her. He’s not a monster. And you know as well as I do, he still loves her.”
“He should have called us. You or I.” He bit his lower lip, not saying anymore. Instead, he went behind his desk and picked up his car keys.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to go get her.”
It was then that Courtney stood. She loved her husband and understood his protectiveness toward Grace. But she wasn’t going to let him interfere. If there was a chance that this trauma could bring about reconciliation, then she wasn’t going to let him prevent it. “No, you’re not.” He was perhaps the one person she never disagreed with. In all reality, they got along surprisingly well. They rarely argued. But if he became determined, this might be one of those rare moments.
“I’m not?” he questioned. His voice was soft, but it spoke volumes.
“No. Seth, I know how you feel about her. I know you’re concerned. But this may be pivotal… for both of them. And if you go charging in there…” She sighed. “You could cause more damage than do good. Please, trust me on this one. Trust in the faith I have in him.”
He closed the drawer that held his keys and leveled her with a stern look. “It’s not you I don’t trust. And Courtney, as a businessman, I think there are few better and trustworthier men in this world than Bruce Wayne. I respect him… as a businessman.” He sat back down in his seat. “I understand the trauma of witnessing his parents’ murders affected him. I understand that he has issues with people getting close to him, or getting close to people.” He looked at her pointedly. “You get that? I understand.”
She nodded. “But you don’t care?”
He shook his head. “No, that’s not it. I do care. I care because you love him. But, and I know everyone deserves a second chance, but his history isn’t the best. He ran out on you not once, but twice when you needed him…”
“But that was…”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter to me, and you know it. He ran out on you twice. He knew how vulnerable Grace’s heart was. He knew her past history with at least one of her lovers, and he still chose to hurt her. I care about him. I care about what happens to him. But I care more about you and Grace. And when it comes to the relationship aspect of Bruce Wayne, I don’t trust him. Plain and simple. Whether he means it or not.”
Courtney simply nodded, and whether she was trying to contain anger or hurt, she wasn’t sure. “But you aren’t going over there?” It was all she could think to ask.
“No,” he said simply. “I’m going to go with you on this because you’re right. If there is even the smallest chance that they can reconcile, then they deserve to have it. Regardless of me, the two of you love him. I won’t do anything to intentionally sabotage either of your relationships. I love the two of you that much.”
And there it was. Seth could be harsh. His feelings about the younger man were so complicated. He wanted to like him. And it was obvious that there was respect there. He would set aside his feelings about Bruce personally and let Grace have a chance… let them both have a chance. And maybe, just maybe, if it worked out how Courtney hoped, Seth would give him another chance as well.
“Thank you,” she smiled, crossing the room to hug him closely to her. “If I don’t hear from either of them by tomorrow morning, I’ll find out what’s going on.”
“Thank you.”
*-*-*
Grace woke with a start. She was a bit disoriented once again, and the dream she’d been having wasn’t necessarily a good one. In the dream, a Good Samaritan didn’t stop the mugger. And what the mugger was going to do to her…
She shivered and brushed a short curl from her eyes. It only took her a moment to get reacclimated. It took even less time after that to realize she wasn’t alone. The scent of his soap and shampoo hit her before her eyes focused in on his chest. The word ‘Gotham’ blared at her before her eyes slowly moved up and found his.
Everything rushed at her at once. Love, anger, need, hope, fear, and a myriad of other emotions plagued her. She wanted to jump out of the bed and into his arms. She wanted to kiss the worry lines that were prominently sticking out from his forehead. She wanted to ask him why? She wanted to forget that he wasn’t hers anymore.
She remembered going into his bedroom earlier. She remembered he called out her name. Alfred’s words were still in her mind and her deductions from earlier didn’t fade as she looked at him.
He looked scared to death. He looked like he was riddled with guilt. He looked relieved that she seemed to not be too physically injured from her attack last night.
But it was the scared look that hit her hardest. She didn’t say anything at first. Not only had her father placed great pride in her intelligence, he’d also always commented on her ability to forgive. Ever so slowly, she ran her hand along the bed toward him. It was a simple gesture, but one designed to perhaps take the first step that maybe he could not. “Bruce,” she said softly. His name had passed her lips so many times during their separation. But saying it now, with him looking at her, it was like a balm to her soul instead of heartache. “I’m so glad you came for me.”
*-*-*
Bruce watched as Grace eased into wakening, the expressions on her face moving from fear and confusion to recognition and something else… something so unreadable to him because of the vast jumble of emotions it conveyed. He himself was torn between his own warring emotions. He’d thought of nothing but seeing her wake up, but now that she was, he was unsure and afraid of how she would react to seeing him or what he would say to her.
Then their eyes met, and his name escaped her lips in a sigh that fell on his ears like rain after a drought, and all words failed him. He wanted to speak, to cry, to kiss her, to hold her, to beg forgiveness, but when his lips parted nothing came out but a huge sigh of relief that she was alright. So he did the only thing that made sense: he followed her example and took her small hand in his own, holding it in a gentle caress.
When she spoke again, his heart somersaulted not once but thrice, catching in his throat as he heard her say she was glad he’d been there. Glad he’d come for her. His eyes brimmed with new tears, as if the ones in the shower weren’t enough. He wanted to tell her he hadn’t just come to her… he’d been her savior. Those words also caught on the lump in his throat and his eyes dropped to their clasped hands.
He knew he should say something, let her know he felt the same way. But what could he say? I love you? I’m sorry? No, they would sound too hollow in light of what he’d put her through, no matter how much he meant them. “I’m glad you’re alright,” he decided upon, and raised his eyes back to hers, though he feared what her face would reveal.
It wasn’t what she’d actually expected him to say. But then again, what was he to say. ‘I love you… Stay… Forgive me…’ If he said any of those things, she knew what her response would be. ‘I love you too… I’ll stay forever… I forgave you the moment I left the manor.’ Her hand turned under his and she squeezed it tightly. She wanted to cry, but not from heartache, from relief. In five minutes, he could offer to take her home or run out of the room and send Alfred in to tell her the car was waiting. But right now, he wasn’t saying any of it. Right now, he was glad she was all right.
Oh God help her there was so much she wanted to say so much her heart needed to tell him. “Bruce, I know…” she paused, Alfred’s words coming to her again. ‘You know him better than anyone.’ She did. And the way he was looking at her, the way he was holding her hand. “Do you think… could you just…” She swallowed hard. It was a gamble, but she had always been the outright type. “I mean, I know…” She closed her eyes for a moment, willing herself not to cry. When she opened them, she looked directly at him. “Hold me… please. If only for a while.”
Her words tore at his heart, making him bleed. She knew… what? That she shouldn’t ask for him to hold her? That she shouldn’t want it? That… he didn’t love her? God, if she thought that… it would kill him if she thought that. He squeezed her hand instinctively, cherishing the comfort in the oneness their entwined fingers allowed. If she only knew how much he’d missed holding her, how much he wanted to still.
“Grace…” he whispered, intending to tell her but again, the words clogged up before they could get out. Unable to make anything else issue forth from his mouth, he complied and climbed into bed with her, spooning her thin body with own more muscled one.
Her entire body relaxed against him and everything within her melted. This is where she belonged. She would never be able to allow anyone else to hold her like this. Of course, there was no way she was going to leave here without a fight. In an impulsive action, she managed to turn in his tight embrace so she could bury her head in his chest. She needed to feel his strong chest, hear his heart beating, and take in his scent. Her arm slipped around his waist and she simply held him as tightly as her diminished muscles would allow.
She hadn’t realized until this moment how much she’d let herself go. She hadn’t had the will to live. He had always been the air she breathed. And she hadn’t breathed from the moment she left the manor… until now. She had to mentally remind herself that this didn’t mean they were back together. But this felt so right. She needed this. She wasn’t sure if she should speak, for fear of chasing him away. So she said nothing, merely held onto him as if life depended on it, and pressed into the embrace as much as she could.
He held her to him, his arms tightening protectively around her when she turned in and rested her cheek against his chest. She belonged in his arms, and no amount of months spent apart could erase the memory of how to hold her. It was the one thing –she was the one person– his life would never be the same without. And he could have lost her last night. So easily, and the thought of what her fate might have been sent a shiver through his body and brought fresh tears to his eyes. Without thinking, he pressed his lips to the top of her head, burying them in her now curly –and very short– hair.
She felt him shiver, heard his breath catch in a way that could only indicate tears. She was prepared to hold him even more closely when she felt his lips on her head. The one who shivered next was she. It was instinctive, lifting her head to look onto his face. The wetness on his cheeks matched her own, and her hand moved from his waist up to wipe the tears away. She hadn’t intended to let the caress linger, or to let her thumb trail along the side of his mouth. It was what she was supposed to do. This was where she belonged.
She let her hand linger there, unwilling to move from this spot. She wished he’d say something, do something. There was so much she wanted to say, but he’d been the one to push her away. She couldn’t come back until he wanted it. The tears, the kiss, the knowledge… it all led her to believe he wanted it. The next thing was natural as well. Ever so softly, she whispered his name, “Bruce…”
“Grace…” He breathed her name like it was air –necessary for life– and nuzzled his cheek against her palm. His treacherous body trembled with the force of all the emotions he couldn’t yet voice, and his lips pressed against the pad of her thumb. It was a small taste of skin, but once taken he knew he was lost. If he kissed her again, it would be her lips.
Not that he didn’t want it –to hold her, to kiss her, to let her know she’d never lost his devotion… his love– but his mind argued that it would be wrong. Wrong to take from her now what was no longer his. He hadn’t earned it, yet here she was tempting him even if she didn’t realize. God, how he wanted her! Just one kiss… His eyes fell to her lips, which he knew to be sweet as honey and oh-so-soft. One kiss… and he’d never ask for anything else out of life again.
Just one…
When his lips touched her skin for the second time, everything within her melted. All she knew was now. Months ago he may have sent her away. She knew, now, that he’d done it because he’d felt there was a necessity for it. It wasn’t because he didn’t still love her. She hadn’t doubted his love… just why.
She was well beyond thinking about what was right here and what was wrong. He was here. She was in his arms. And the look in his eyes… Her hand slipped of its own accord to allow her fingers to lightly run across his ear and to lightly touch his hair. Her eyes held his as she unconsciously licked at her lips. It was perhaps in response to the memory of how good his lips felt on her skin… and how good they would feel again on her lips.
His kiss never failed to excite her. They were both very tactile people, and the pressing of his lips on hers, the feel of his smooth tongue running along the inside of her mouth… Oh God, there wasn’t anything she wanted more than to feel that again. What she wouldn’t give?! ‘Kiss me, please,’ her mind begged.
She wanted him to kiss her. He could see it in her eyes and felt it in the way she touched him –the way her body pressed into his more sensually as her fingers buried themselves in his hair. ‘Kiss me…’ her eyes pleaded. ‘Now,’ her lips demanded as she licked them and he found himself unable to do anything but watch her tongue as it wet the skin he was now burning to devour.
Again his brain shouted out that it wasn’t right, it wasn’t the time for this now, not when so much was left unspoken between them, but his body argued that sometimes, non-verbal communication worked just as well. His brain countered that such a course would make verbal communication harder when the time came reopen past wounds in order to heal them. His body moved closer to hers, ignoring the protests of his brain.
His brain lost the battle, and his lips descended to hers, pressing into them because she’d begged, because he needed to.
She gasped at that first press of his lips on hers. Of course, it was immediately swallowed by the contact. How many nights had she fallen asleep wishing for just this? How many times had she dreamed of this? He tasted every bit as good as she remembered. And her body remembered how to respond. In all honesty, her reaction was more immediate, more needy because she’d believed that this would never happen again. She’d never be in his arms, never feel his body against hers, and never would his lips be upon her.
She wasn’t a fool though. She knew that this kiss didn’t mean that everything was fixed. She knew it didn’t mean that the movers would be called. At least, not until they talked. And the talking would come because this kiss… the heat… the intensity… the need… It all told her that his heart was aching as much as hers had been. Though it didn’t fix their problems, it did help her.
She pressed into the kiss, not having forgotten just how to caress his lips with hers in the way he liked. She hadn’t forgotten the little nuances that were unique to kissing him. When they parted, they would talk. But right now, she needed to kiss… she needed this moment.
Bruce’s eyes drifted closed when he felt her respond to his kisses. She had wanted it, wanted him, and this knowledge filled him like wine, leaving him giddy and inebriated in the wake of her return kisses. And still he drank of her lips, greedily, as if each sip of their sweetness would be his last.
This alone he feared: that the kiss would end and she would be gone. A dream born of too many nights alone. Without her. He couldn’t go back to that, not again.
He cupped her cheeks with his hands, gently caressing her cheekbones, as each kiss grew more desperate and needy. He could taste their tears, mingled together on their lips, and he could feel more tears gathering in his eyes as he gave her a long final, deep kiss and pulled gently away.
She let her eyes stay closed for a long moment, not wanting to open them if it meant that he wasn’t really here. Her hands reached up to take his, partly, she believed, to keep him from running away. He was quite capable of that. When his brain took over control of his body, he could very well bolt on her. But with her hands grasping his, he would have to physically rip himself away, and she just couldn’t believe him capable of that.
Her eyes opened and she wasn’t surprised by the look on his face. Oh, she hadn’t seen this exact look, but she’d seen one very close to it once or twice. It was the ‘Bruce is very close to losing it’ look. And as much as she needed him to be the one to do it, she was half afraid that if she waited for him to speak first, it would be words that were spoken from that state. And she couldn’t have handled that. She couldn’t deal with him thinking that what had just happened between them was wrong.
Because it wasn’t wrong.
It was beautiful. It was right. They belonged together. She’d never loved anyone like she loved him. Still looking at him, she sighed lightly. And for the first time in several minutes, words were spoken between them. “You’ve never…” She swallowed hard, her hands still on his as she squeezed them… drawing strength from his presence. “Alfred said you stayed up all night watching me.” Her eyes held his. “That means so much. You saved me. And even as that man grabbed me, I knew. I knew that you would be the one to be there for me. I never doubted.” She had to admit that waking up at the manor was a surprise, but not that he was the one who’d come for her.
She said nothing else. Hopefully, he would understand that it wasn’t his love for her that she doubted. She didn’t doubt the love. Circumstances were another thing entirely. But first, they had to get beyond the emotions.
When at first Grace didn’t speak, Bruce’s thought had been to flee. He’d messed up –again. Kissing her… it had felt so good, had been all he’d wanted, all he’d thought about, but in the silence came doubt and all the other emotions he’d been trying to ignore so he could just be with her.
Then she opened her eyes, and looked through his soul as if she could see where his mind was determined to take him. Her words surprised him. He’d expected… well, he wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t that. Maybe he thought she’d cry or hit him. Push him away, or run from the room, from the Manor… from him. It was certainly what he deserved. Instead, what he sensed behind her words –and the kisses that preceded them– was her love for him.
He’d never understood what he’d done right in life that Fate had sent her to him. He couldn’t pretend to understand it now.
There was a huge mountain of ‘whys’ looming ahead of them, but his heart was telling him that what he needed to say first was something that didn’t begin with the words ‘because I thought I was right.’ There was something else that he needed to say first, because the chance might never come again if the ‘whys’ got in the way.
Taking a deep, unsteady breath, he extracted a hand from her grasp and brought it to her cheek softly. “Oh, Grace…” he whispered softly. “Don’t you know that I will always come for you?”
When her hand rested on his again, it wasn’t to hold him there. She knew he didn’t like to see her cry. At times, he could very easily misinterpret tears. So she held them back, gaining control from months of practicing. Her heart however, could easily be seen from her eyes. And she knew it. “I do know.” She took his hand, and as she had several times in their past, she placed their joined hands on her heart. It had always been their way of letting the other know from where they were speaking. It was an extremely intimate gesture for them. “I know it here,” she said, in reference to her heart. “I’ve always felt you here.”
Her words were simple, but the gesture… not so. It spoke volumes, and left him overwhelmed with joy. And yet, conversely swamped with guilt. How to let her know… what to say?
“You have always been here,” he said at last, moving their hands to his own chest and pressing them hard enough that he knew she felt the beat of his heart through the sweatshirt. “No…” he decided too late. “You *are* my heart, and I have been lost every day since…” Since he ripped her willfully from his own chest.
Shamed, he let go of her hand, lowering his eyes to the mattress. Sorry didn’t even begin to cover it, couldn’t make up for what he’d put her through, and he found he couldn’t bring himself to say such hollow words. They would never do justice to the depths of his regret.
With those last seven words, he said everything she was feeling. Her first instinct was to ask him why. Why had he done it to them? Why had he put the distance between them? Why had they spent months miserably apart? But she didn’t ask those questions. Because she knew… just as Alfred had said she knew Bruce best… she knew that he believed his reasons valid. That in doing it, he’d protected her somehow.
Would he do it again? As she looked at him studying the mattress, she got her answer. There was regret. Regret, pain, and maybe some anger aimed toward himself over this. Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her… holding him. “I was lost too. And though it may not be easy, do you think we could be found again?
Whatever it was…” She paused. She didn’t need to know what it was. “I need you, Bruce. More than I’ve ever needed anyone or anything. Can we be found again?” She tried not to sound like she was begging. “Or at least on our way to being found?”
His arms wrapped around her, and he clung to her as if for his very life. A part of him still feared that if he let go, she wouldn’t be there at all. And a bigger part of him was afraid that he would leave if *she* let go. Even now his heart thundered in his chest, and his mind raced with too many thoughts. Was she forgiving him? He hadn’t asked for it. Or was she asking to be taken back herself? Whichever it was, the need to see this through made him hold her that much tighter.
“Last night, when I saw that ma–” in his desperate need to find a path back to her, his guard slipped a little. His only hope was that the emotions running high between them would be enough to mask the misstep. “When I saw what had happened to you, I panicked. Grace, if I’d lost you last night, I would never have forgiven myself. I want us to be found, too… if we aren’t already far too lost. My life is nothing without you, Grace. Worse than nothing: an empty void.”
*-*-*
The emotional events of the afternoon had taken their toll on both of them, and Bruce was again holding her in his arms, cradling her gently as she dozed with her cheek resting over his heart. He couldn’t sleep, himself, but there no place he wanted to be than here holding her. So that’s what he did: held her, his fingers idly tying themselves up in the ringlets of her hair.
Those were new… the curls, the short hair. He’d grown used to Courtney’s short hair, but he’d yet to accustom himself to seeing Grace without her long tresses. Not that he was blind to the fact that she’d done it. He’d seen the ads in magazines shortly after their break up. She’d cut it dangerously short, and his first reaction had been to cry. Now he thought maybe it was possible to like the new look. After all, it wasn’t her looks but the person Grace was that he loved.
And he did love her, with all that he was. The depth of it had scared him at first; but the longer they were together, the easier it got to accept it. To let himself just love her, without fearing his feelings for her. He’d destroyed that trust by sending her away, and now, they needed to rebuild it. He had no intention of losing her again, not to his own foolish stubbornness or to anything else. Nothing hurt worse than living without her.
It was Alfred coming to check on her that broke into his thoughts. The older man opened the door, took in the sight of them on the bed together, nodded once and left without saying a word. Not that he had to. The small, knowing smile on Alfred’s face said all there needed to be said. He’d known all along that Grace belonged here, with them.
When Alfred came again later in the evening, Grace was still asleep, for which Bruce was grateful. He knew her; he knew she didn’t sleep much as a rule and her body needed rest. Needed to heal itself with peaceful sleep.
“I am sorry to interrupt, Master Bruce, but there are *matters* you need attend to.” The emphasized word brought Bruce back to reality. He had things to do in preparation for tonight’s patrol. Training, surveillance, more training. He’d be kidding himself if he thought he could stop now, just because Grace was here.
Grudgingly, he extracted himself from her embrace and rose from the bed. Leaning down, he brushed his lips to her forehead, smiling as he did so. Straightening, he said, “Take care of her, Alfred.”
“I shall cater to her every whim, sir,” the other man promised, then cleared his throat. “Dinner in two hours, Master Bruce. You were late the last time.”
He hadn’t been able to get out of the manacles or retrieve the key from the table. Alfred had come looking for him when dinner had grown cold on the table. He would not repeat the failure tonight, he vowed. He wouldn’t be late to dinner while Grace was there.
*-*-*
The light had faded to dusk when she finally awoke, but it wasn’t the change in the view outside the window that caused her anxiety. It was the fact that she was alone. Immediately she sat up, panic racing through her. He’d left. The emotional trauma of this afternoon had been too much for him. She knew she shouldn’t have fallen asleep, but it had felt so good being in his arms again. “Please God, no,” she whispered softly. “I can’t do this again.”
She wasn’t sure where she got the courage, but she moved from the bed and headed quickly out into the hall. The first place she checked was his bedroom. He wasn’t there. In her mental state, she called out his name. No answer.
She took off down the hall, determined that if she couldn’t find Bruce, she’d find Alfred and make him tell her where he had gone. Maybe he couldn’t handle the trauma, but for her, this was more traumatic. In her confused state, she made a wrong turn, and then another. Before she knew it, she was lost.
‘Great,’ she thought. ‘Just fucking great.’
She inhaled deeply to try to calm herself and took off walking in a direction that looked vaguely familiar. Going down a flight of stairs she made it to the main floor. The corridor looked strange only for the moment it took to get her bearings. She passed the door to the basement and rounded another corner, almost running directly into Alfred.
His look was momentarily grave but he quickly covered it.
“I… I got lost,” she explained. “I woke up… Bruce must have run off or something… I don’t know…” She was trying not to cry.
Calm washed over the elderly man. She had been dangerously close to the basement, although he had no doubt that she would never go in there. It was the one place Bruce had asked her not to explore. And she was a completely trustworthy woman. If she said she would never go down there, she wouldn’t. Still…
A reassuring hand was placed on her shoulder, guiding her back toward the dining room. “Master Bruce had a couple of ‘engagements’ he could not get out of, Miss. Trust me, leaving your side was the last thing he wanted to do, but as I reminded him, these commitments… well… he cannot break them. No matter how much he might wish to.”
“So he didn’t run out on me?” she asked, hearing the words but still worried that it had to do with her.
His hand still softly holding her elbow, he continued to guide her.
“No, Miss Grace, it has nothing to do with you. He will be joining you for dinner shortly. I had the cook prepare all of your favorites for this evening.”
She smiled. “Pastas, I take it. Get the carbs in me, put some meat on my bones.” At his soft chuckle, she said, “I don’t have anything to wear to dinner.” She looked down at the oversized sweats she’d put on last night before leaving her apartment. “I doubt this is suitable.”
He glanced at her clothing and offered her a soft smile. “Your attire does not matter. What matters most is that you are here.” They entered the dining room, and he held her chair for her while she sat. “Master Bruce will be here shortly. I promise you that.”
She nodded, reaching for her glass of iced tea while she waited. Maybe she shouldn’t have panicked like she did. But then again, it could hardly be held against her. She always understood the great demands that were put upon him… because of who he was. She never tried to come between him and them. She wouldn’t. But waking up like that, without him by her side… it had scared her more than she realized. There were still things they had to talk about, she assumed. Things that she was going to have to adjust to again.
The first and foremost matter they needed to discuss was how long she was going to stay. If he asked, she’d stay forever. Sure, she’d accepted before and he’d turned her out. But this time… this time was different. They’d learned from the experience. She doubted he would ask her to leave again, but if he did, she wouldn’t go away without a fight. She’d given in far too easily the last time. She’d done so because no matter how much it hurt her, she’d give in to his wishes. But not now. Now, she wouldn’t leave without making sure it was what he wanted instead of what he believed was best.
In the matter of the success of their relationship, she was going to fight for it now with everything in her arsenal. He was worth the fight; they were worth the fight. And as she finished her first glass of tea, she wondered what commitments would keep him past dinner.
A few moments later, Alfred wandered in and noticed that she was still sitting alone. She seemed lost in thought and didn’t acknowledge that he had entered. Obviously, Master Bruce had been detained again, however, this time, he was not going to let two hours pass or dinner grow cold or Miss Grace to sit alone in the dining room and worry. Turning quietly on his heel, he left and walked the corridors to the basement.
Going down into the massive underground structure, he made his way to the room, finding the young man still shackled in the chair. “Dinner is served,” he said emotionlessly, “and Miss Grace is up and waiting. Shall I release you or explain to her that you will be detained a while longer?”
*-*-*
Bruce groaned as Alfred informed him of how he’d found Grace, panicked and lost. He took the shirt Alfred held out to him, pulling it over his head as he hurriedly dressed for dinner. “She really thought I’d left her?” He frowned at Alfred’s confirming nod. He was a horrible person. “When I do stupid things like that, Alfred, why don’t you tell me how stupid they are?” Of course, he meant turning her away in the first place.
“I have, Master Bruce. You only listen when it suits you.”
Bruce groaned again at the polite-yet-too-accurate reply. He’d have to work on that. He couldn’t keep hurting Grace. Not if he hoped to earn her renewed trust. Her trust…
“Do you think I can trust her, Alfred?” It would have been an odd question, unless someone factored in what Bruce had spent the last four months doing in his spare time. “I want her to stay, but I don’t want to put the project –or her– at risk.” Especially her, he silently amended.
The older man seemed to consider his words. “Miss Grace has never given you reason not to trust her,” he pointed out, holding the bedroom door open so Bruce could exit. “However, this is hardly a hobby which can be easily shared, like hiking or poetry.”
Bruce nodded grimly. The rules had changed since Grace lived here last. The wrong turn could land her in the middle of his closest secrets, or worse, in more danger than she’d been in at the hands of her mugger. He was at a loss to know what to do, but he knew one thing: he couldn’t let her walk out of his life again.
They’d figure something out. They had to.
His brooding frown vanished as soon as he entered the dining room, replaced by a smile he could hardly contain at seeing her there. All his heart was telling him she belonged in his life. “I’m sorry, Grace,” he said as he closed the distance between them. She’d risen from her seat when he’d arrived, now he slipped his arms around her waist, giving her a polite kiss on the cheek. “I’m terribly late; my business kept me detained longer than expected.” In truth, had Alfred not released him, he might still be there. Tomorrow, he would do better.
As if to further make up for his tardiness, he leaned in again, placing a soft, sensual kiss on her lips. “Shall we eat?”
She didn’t inquire as to what his business had been. She never did. They only discussed business when he offered up the conversation. She didn’t mind it either. Some people preferred to keep business and personal life separate. Bruce was one of those people. The two only mingled when he needed a date for a business function. Then, she was only too happy to comply, though that hadn’t been her place in months. She sincerely hoped she could slip back into that role. She felt completely comfortable at his side, being hostess to his host. She simply felt she belonged beside him.
She took the seat as he held it for her. Her tea glass had been filled for the third time. With a small smile, she didn’t wait for the food to be placed in front of her before she said, “Alfred now believes that he has to fatten me up as well.” Everyone had noticed her weight loss, a few had even commented on it. Courtney was the only person, other than Alfred, who had actually come out and said anything about it. In all honesty, she looked gaunt, but she was still an acceptable weight. “I believe the object of tonight’s dinner is carbohydrating us into oblivion.” She offered him a smile.
It was small talk, and she knew it. But to jump right in and discuss the bigger things seemed awkward to her. Besides, she knew him. The initial discussion, she’d had to start. But if they were to have another, he would have to do it. She wasn’t going to push. She didn’t want the panic of earlier to become a reality.
Bruce smiled at her small talk, and nodded politely to the servant who placed a steaming plate of pasta and vegetables in front of him. “It does look good, though,” he offered. “We always did eat better when you–” Were here, he had been about to say, and bitter regret flashed across his face. Smooth move, Bruce, he inwardly chided himself.
Let’s twist the knife in a little further while the wound’s still fresh.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked after an awkward silence in which he wished he could simply sink through the floor. She looked like she had, at least. Her cheeks weren’t as pale as they had been earlier, as if merely being there with him was bringing her back to herself.
She nodded, chewing on a piece of broccoli before swallowing. “I’m sure Alfred told you. I mean. I slept like I haven’t in ages. But… you know… I forgot that business for you is at all hours and well…” She sighed, not wanting to make him feel guilty. “So I went to find you or Alfred and got all turned around. I ended up at the back of the manor somehow. I think I freaked out Alfred a bit.” She offered him a smile. “But it’s all better now.” And she meant that. It was all better the minute he walked into the dining room and smiled at her. She was sure she’d stop panicking after a while, but right now, she scared easily.
Bruce nodded. “It’s okay,” he told her. “I still get turned around sometimes, and I’ve lived here all my life.” He risked a small, hopefully reassuring grin. “You were sleeping so soundly when Alfred came to remind me I had prior commitments. I didn’t want to disturb you.” After a heavy pause, he added, “Though, honestly, business has gotten… busier… in the last few months.” He meant it as ‘and it’s taken more and more of my time than you’ll be used to’ but as they had yet to discuss how today redefined their relationship, he did not say this aloud.
“I’ve gotten busy too,” was her immediate response. “Several new accounts… a couple actually international.” She had heard his words… and the tone with which he said them. There was a lot more going on under the surface here than he was saying. She knew he’d relinquished all his shares in LexCorp after his breakup with the company’s CEO. And hadn’t Miles mentioned that he’d actually given control of Wayne Industries back to his advisors. So, she was puzzled, but didn’t ask. “Everything’s okay, isn’t it?” she asked softly, “Business-wise. You’re okay?”
Bruce knew that look on her face –that thoughtful look that said she was putting the pieces together. He hadn’t made a secret of bowing of the day-to-day running of his family business. “It’s fine,” he said, and it was. Wayne Industries was thriving. “I’ve been indulging in my inner science geek lately… I have a few privately funded research projects going on, and I’m spokesman for a couple of local special interest groups. They actually see a lot more of me at city hall than anywhere else. Miles and I’ve had lunch a few times.” Fewer times than the mayor had wanted, if Bruce was honest with himself. Nor did he go into the nature of his various projects.
Instead, he paused to regard her closely, and then gave a uniquely shy smile. “I’ve seen your ads,” admitted the man who usually paid no attention to most forms of advertising media. He hesitated, then blushed as he asked, genuinely not knowing the answer, “What *is* Old Navy, anyway?”
She paused, her glass of tea halfway to her mouth. The question didn’t strike her as odd, but it was funny. Setting her glass down, she laughed. It was nice too, as she hadn’t laughed in quite a long time. “A little bit of everything… mostly clothing. As far as I’m concerned though, I showed up at the studio, they put me in some clothes, blew fake snow all around. And I had to say ‘Cargo pants are great for winter sports’ and then wink. But I got some nice clothes out of the deal.” She let the laughter fade and looked at him. “You saw my commercials?” she asked, knowing he wasn’t fond of the TV medium.
He blushed again, because whether she knew it or not, she’d caught him. “A couple of them.” All of them, and if she ever got lost in the ‘basement’ she’d be at risk of discovering his scrapbook of her recent print ads, as well. He’d missed her, and though it now seemed like obsession, he’d eagerly grasped at anything he found that reminded him of her. “You know,” he risked. “You should do that more often… laugh, I mean. You have a magical laugh.”
When silence followed, he decided he’d overstepped a boundary and stabbed at a steamed carrot with his fork. If he couldn’t say the right things, he might as well eat.
The silence was because her heart had just about burst with emotion. Reaching out, she placed her hand on his arm, running her fingers along it softly before resting her hand on his. “I missed you too. There wasn’t a second of the day when you weren’t on my mind.” She wanted so badly to lean across the table and kiss him again. She wanted, at least for a while, to be in his arms again… to be doing things that would make the awkwardness disappear for a while. But then, they’d never had problems with the physical, so it was only natural that that’s how she’d feel most comfortable. She didn’t look down or away as she said, “Your smile… the one you have first thing in the morning…” She didn’t finish, merely trailed off, hoping he knew it was okay.
He merely nodded, his throat dry from too much emotion and his voice misplaced while he looked into her eyes. This was quite possibly the weirdest night they’d spent together since the night they’d first met. Like then, he was torn, and also like then, it was because he was afraid to go too far too soon. He didn’t want to hurt her again, and no matter what she said, it wasn’t entirely okay. Yes, she’d missed him too, but she hadn’t been the one to do the hurting.
Reaching for his water glass, he took a drink to wet his throat then set it back down. “Speaking of… mornings. Will you…” he took a deep breath, “still be here in the morning?”
‘In the morning,’ she repeated mentally. She also noticed he didn’t return the touch. Was he thinking of just one morning? Would they spend tonight together and then tomorrow he expect her to go back home? She chastised herself mentally. After what had happened, he wouldn’t do that to her. But he also wasn’t the kind of man to do it before. There were things to work though yet. It would take time before questions like that didn’t pop into her head immediately. She waited for him to set his glass down so that she was sure he was fully focused on her. It was a pivotal question; her answer was even more so. She pushed all of the doubt aside and took a leap of faith. Faith in him. Her hand moved down and took his. “Yes. I’ll be here in the morning.”
He wanted to ask about the next morning, and the one after that, and the one after that, but all he found himself capable of was a silly grin. His heart beat rapidly in his chest. She’d be there. She said she would. It was a pledge that went a long way towards fixing what lay broken between them. “Grace…” he said softly, moving his hand overtop of her own. “I’m so glad. I couldn’t bring myself to hope that you would… ” He trailed off, shaking his head in clear frustration. “There’s much…” so much that had changed, so many new rules to the game of his life. “We’ll figure it out, though, you and I. We need to.”
*-*-*
Bruce sat on his bed, still fully clothed when the bedroom door creaked open behind him. He turned, expecting Alfred come with preliminaries about tonight’s patrol, but instead found Grace wearing a shirt that was a couple sizes too large on her. It fell off her shoulder in a way that shouldn’t have been appealing because of how much weight she’d lost, but still sent a slight thrill running through him. Too thin or not, the sight of her in naught but a t-shirt had always been one of his favorites.
“Want me to have my tailor take that in for you?” he asked, feigning sincerity, and he rose from the bed and walked over to her. He didn’t question how Alfred just happened to have some of Grace’s things. Alfred had always been a bit of a miracle worker. Instead, he took in the sight of her, unable to keep the happiness of having her back home out of his eyes.
Coming to stand next to her, he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him in a hug that should have been gentler. “Coming to say good-night?” he murmured against her lips before kissing them tenderly.
Her hands threaded into his hair. His question hadn’t fully registered because the mere fact that he was kissing her drove everything else away. When their lips finally parted, she remembered the question. Had he assumed she wouldn’t be sleeping with him? Her immediate response was to say yes… to give him what he wanted because he asked for it. But she couldn’t do it. And she couldn’t believe that’s what he wanted. There was no way she could sleep and not be in his arms. “Actually,” she said, her lips lightly brushing his as she spoke, “I was wondering if you’d changed which side of the bed you preferred.” She moved her head just enough to place a soft kiss on his cheek before resting her head on his shoulder. “Just hold me. I always sleep better when you’re with me. I feel so safe.”
“And we do want you to be safe,” he acquiesced, kissing her again to let her know he was more than happy with this arrangement. She could sleep wherever her heart desired so long as she was happy. Drawing her further into his embrace, he scooped her up as easily as he had the night of her attack and, taking long easy strides towards the bed, laid her down in the center. Looking down at her, he was mesmerized by what he saw in her eyes.
To her, he’d always been beautiful. And she wasn’t one of those women who thought of beautiful as strictly feminine. Males could be beautiful as well. It was as he carried her to the bed that it crossed her mind… How many times had he done this in the past? He’d carry her off to bed and they’d make love slowly. When he would carry her, it was like a signal that he was in a passionate, yet romantic mood. And she couldn’t help it. Those memories did something to her. Not that making love was a priority right now. The priority was being with him. But it still crossed her mind. “You should put some pajamas on, Bruce. Sleeping in jeans can’t be comfortable.”
He chuckled ruefully. In truth, before she came to him, he had little thought of sleeping. The failure of this afternoon’s training was still fresh in his mind and soon it would be time to patrol. But those things could wait until Grace was settled and sleeping. He was getting good at stealthy movement, and he doubted that even she would notice if he slipped out while she slumbered.
“Tell me about it,” he laughed again, recalling to both their minds that he’d slept in his clothes the previous night. Complying, he reached for his sleep pants and the over-sized t-shirt he’d been intending to use when he got in after patrol. He pulled off his shirt and his pants followed suite.
Talk about slow torture. She smiled as she watched him undress, baring first his torso then his well-muscled legs. Actually, he’d added quite a bit of muscle tone. She rolled over on her side barely noticing that the shirt that fit her so well four months ago was now falling off of her. She drank him in, and then noticed the bruises. They were on his upper arms and around his wrist area. She hadn’t noticed them before because of the sweatshirt he wore. Concern etched her forehead as she reached out, gesturing to the areas. “What happened here?”
“What happened where?” He echoed, making a show of examining his arms where she’d indicated to allow him time to think of the best answer. As it turned out, the truth –or most of it– worked best. “Oh, these.” He shrugged. “I’ve been working out a lot more lately. New physical training routine. I’m not really used to it yet.” He gave her a lopsided grin and pulled the shirt over his head, sufficiently hiding most of the bruises from her sight. Pulling on the sleep pants, he eased onto the foot of the bed and then crawled up the length of it to her. Then he lay down beside her, pulling her into his arms like he’d been doing it every day of their lives.
She swallowed the lump of desire that was in her throat. Did he have any idea what he radiated when he crawled up that big bed? He was predator; she was prey. She was his. And the thought of that spread liquid heat through her body. To be the object of such focus, whether it be desire or need… or lust. He exuded all of that as he crawled toward her on the bed. And there was no question –since she was prey– she was a willing prey. As his arms enveloped her and he drew her to him, she shivered, not expecting the physical response. She’d believed this was all about emotions. But the picture of him ‘hunting’ her… it touched her in places that hadn’t been touched in months. Trying to distract her traitorous body, she laughed lightly as she snuggled in. “My Brucie pillow,” she teased. She always called him her pillow. “I could sleep anywhere so long as I have my Brucie pillow.”
“Mmm…” he murmured against her forehead as she rested her head against his chest. “I’ve held you like this in my dreams a thousand times.” His voice was sleepy, and his arms tightened around her as he scooted closer, letting their bodies fit together as they both started to drifted between sleep and waking.
*-*-*
When he’d been certain Grace was asleep, Bruce gave up the pretense of slumber and eased from the bed. Silently, he dressed in his clothes from the night before and walked in to the adjoining bedroom that had once been Lex’s. He made his way to the back of the room, and placing his hand on the inlaid bookshelf, he pushed it open noiselessly. It closed behind him without a sound.
*-*-*
It wasn’t so much the stretching that woke her up. It was the stretching and not feeling him that did it. Maybe he got up and went to the bathroom, surely after her panic attack earlier today he wouldn’t get up without letting her know something. She waited for several moments and when she heard no noises issuing from the bathroom, she got up and knocked on the door.
“Bruce?” She didn’t wait as she opened the door and found the room empty. No way! No way in hell was this happening again!
With no regard to the fact that it was four in the morning, she exited the room and started searching the house. She turned on lights and left them on. Though she was much more calm in her search this time, so she didn’t get lost. She checked all the rooms that he used the most. The gym, the kitchen, the library, his favorite arbor room. She even went outside to check the pool, though the fact that it was snow-covered and freezing outside should have told her he wouldn’t be swimming in that pool. She even checked the sauna.
She didn’t, however, wake up Alfred. It was obvious that Bruce was not in the manor. So why would he leave at four in the morning? Why would he get out of bed, get dressed (she remembered now seeing his sleepwear on the chair), and leave? Had something happened that needed his immediate attention?
It hit her then. That had to be it. And the only thing she could think of that would need his immediate attention was Courtney. She stopped in the main room of the house. From here, one had access to just about everywhere. If he came in from the front or the back, she should eventually see him. Picking up the phone, she dialed the Meyers’ house.
“Someone better be dying,” the deep male voice answered. “I’m not kidding, Alex. If you’re pranking me, you’re fired.”
Grace held her breath. This was so not the person she wanted to answer the phone. She loved Seth deeply, but calling now, asking if Courtney’d seen Bruce… this wasn’t going to go over well.
“It’s Grace, Seth.”
He sat up immediately, unwittingly disturbing the sleeping woman beside him. “What’s wrong? Do you need me to come get you?” He just knew that Bruce had crushed her again. She was home and miserable. Lord, help that man if it were true.
She shook her head, though he couldn’t see it. “Nothing is the matter, Seth. I mean, I’m fine.”
“Where are you?”
She swallowed thickly. This hour was no time to get into long discussions about the choices she was making. And though he’d stood beside her every second these past four months, she just wasn’t ready to answer all his questions. She barely had any answers herself. “I’m at the manor.”
He let his eyes drift closed. “Gracie…”
“Please don’t, Seth. Please not right now.”
“It’s just…” It’s just that Bruce ripped her heart out and she went into a seclusion and the man shows up one day, takes her to his house when he should have taken her to a hospital, and she’s staying the night with him. He believed in second chances, but he also believed that they should be earned. And one couldn’t make up for four months of agony in one day. But he wouldn’t tell her all that. In all honesty, it wasn’t his place. “I’m sorry. Are you ok?”
“I’m fine. Overall, I’m fine. I’m a bit worried though. Is everything okay over there?”
That question puzzled him. He felt Courtney move again beside him and sit up to join him. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Grace sighed heavily. Well, that answer just brought on even more questions. “I woke up, and Bruce was gone. I thought maybe something happened with Courtney because it’s not like him to just up and leave in the middle of the night.”
His sigh mirrored hers. Maybe she didn’t know him as well as she thought she did. “He’s not here, hon. We haven’t heard from him.”
“What’s wrong?” Courtney asked.
“Hold on, Grace.” To his wife, he said, “She’s still there. She woke up, Bruce was gone, and she thought maybe he was here.”
“Does she want me to come over?”
He shrugged. “Courtney wants to know if you want *us* to come over?” If she did, he would be having one nice long talk with Bruce when he returned. He didn’t give a fig who ‘Bruce Wayne’ was. There were things that needed to be said and he was going to say them.
She looked around the manor. “No, I think I’ll just wait up for him to come back. It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“If you need anything…” He wasn’t happy with her answer, but he tabled everything else he wanted to say for now. Bruce wasn’t the only one he’d be talking to.
“You will be the first person I call. Sorry to wake you.”
“Don’t ever be sorry about that. Understand? You call anytime.”
“I understand. Thanks Seth and goodnight,” she said softly, hanging up after he replied in kind.
She did exactly what she said she was going to do to. She walked to the bar and fixed herself a scotch and sat on the leather couch to wait for Bruce to return.
*-*-*
Continue in Chapter Four
