Preordained Chapter 5

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Preordained

by DebC and Christina A

Summary: Bruce & Grace reunite after a painful 4-month separation and everyone’s lives are affected.

Chapter Five

Sunday, January 16, 2005

The phone rang once, twice. On the third ring, George O’Neil’s face fell. It wasn’t because of who was calling. It was because of who it wasn’t. “Hello, Pumpkin,” he said as his wife joined him in the kitchen. “It’s Hope,” he informed her.

The young woman on the other end of the phone sighed in exasperation. “I take it she hasn’t called.”

“No, no word. I don’t understand. It’s been three days. She had to know we’d read about the attack in the newspaper.”

Hope sat down at the table, sipping at her coffee. “I tried to call her cell phone, but there was no answer.”

“I couldn’t get a hold of Courtney either.”

“Did you try her dad?” she asked as she picked up the morning newspaper.

“I left a message,” he responded. “I’m sure when he…”

“Holy shit!” Hope’s voice raised an octave and became tinged with a certain amount of disgust.

“Hope?” her father asked, unused to hearing his normally cheerful daughter speak that way.

Hope’s eyes were wide as she stared down at the photo. The headline simple read ‘Together Again’. The first sentence confirmed it. ‘Billionaire Bruce Wayne and supermodel Grace O’Neil reunite after a four month separation’. “I think I know why we haven’t heard from Grace,” she said, not even bothering to disguise her reaction. The picture left no room for doubt as the pair was locked in an embrace… kissing as if they were completely alone.

“What do you mean? Has she contacted you?”

“No, Dad. She’s with Bruce.” She tossed the newspaper aside and it skidded off the table onto the floor where Hope left it sitting. “I bet if you call the Manor, she’ll be there.”

George didn’t say anything at first. His daughter was attacked, and he’d been worried for days only to find that she was with the man who ripped her heart out, and then neglected to let her family know that she was okay. “Hope, Pumpkin, I’ll talk to you later.” He waited a heartbeat for her to say goodbye, hung up, and looked at his wife. “She’s with Bruce. Hope says there’s an article in the paper.”

Janet, who had the newspaper in her hand, merely nodded. “It would seem so. Just saw the article myself.” She handed the newspaper to her husband. “Now, George, don’t be too upset. She loves him.” Janet hadn’t been happy with Bruce for breaking Grace’s heart either. They’d gone to see her at Christmas and the pain Grace was in caused the mother’s heart to break as well. George… well, his daughters were his world. There were no words to describe his reaction. But Janet also understood a woman’s heart. She understood Grace.

“He snaps his fingers, and she goes running. Running to him and neglects to call us to let us know that she’s okay. Damnit Janet, I should at least rank enough for a phone call.” He dropped the paper on the table.

“George, please don’t call her while you’re angry.”

“I’m not!” he gritted through his teeth before sighing. “I just want to talk to her.” He grabbed his Rolodex from the desk. “I just want to talk to my daughter.”

*-*-*

They’d slept in. The sweet awakening Bruce gave Grace had unleashed months of pent up need and desire. Once the immediate need had been satisfied, they’d made love again and again. Each moment more meaningful than the last because they both knew they were where they belonged.

Grace could have stayed in bed all day, making up for lost time, but her stomach demanded food. So the pair had showered, another ‘normalcy’ returning as the hot water sensitized skin and they made love again.

Now, they were sitting at the table in the bedroom, eating breakfast. They’d started out sitting across from one another, but the distance seemed too great and they ended up sitting next to each other, holding hands or using their fingers to lightly caress each other’s arms.

“I’ll have Alfred contact the movers,” Bruce said. Now that the decision was made, there was really no sense in wasting time.

Grace laughed lightly. “Knowing Alfred, he’s already called them and they are there packing my things now.”

Bruce laughed with her. “No doubt he has.” His fingers entwined with hers and their eyes locked.

She had thought about this off and on during the night. She wasn’t sure how he was going to react, but she had to tell him. For her own peace of mind, she had to let her apartment go. What had once been a comfort was now a curse. She never wanted to live there again. “Bruce,” she started softly, unsure of how he’d react but needing to tell him anyway, “I need to talk to you…”

A knock on the door interrupted her sentence. Clearing his throat, Alfred entered and said, “I’m sorry to disturb you, but Miss Grace has a phone call.” He crossed the room and handed her the phone.

Grace smiled. “Thank you, Alfred.” To Bruce, she teased, “It’s probably Court wanting a full report.” As he smiled in return, she pushed the ‘hold’ button and said into the phone, “Hello.”

“Grace.”

All it took was that voice and Grace’s face fell. She hadn’t called her father in days. No doubt he’d heard about the attack, and she hadn’t been home nor had her cell phone. And worse, she hadn’t called. Since he had tracked her down here, he knew about Bruce as well. She sighed and softly said, “I’m sorry, Daddy.” She always called him that when she felt especially vulnerable. “I should have called.”

“You’re damn right, you should have.”

He was angry that was obvious. George O’Neil never raised his voice to his girls, but normally, they were more considerate of him. “Things have been a bit…”

His voice cut her off. “No excuses.” He inhaled, managing to calm. She was safe that was most important. “I know that reuniting with Bruce is all you’ve wanted, and I understand you being focused on that. But I’m your father. Would a phone call have been too much?”

She shook her head and then realized he couldn’t see it. “No. I should have called,” she repeated, not knowing what else to say. “I just… I just…”

“Got swept up in the moment,” he finished for her, his anger melting away at the guilt in her voice. He could never stay angry with either of his girls, no matter how much he may have wanted to. “I love you, Pumpkin,” he said, using the same term of endearment for her that he had used for Hope.

Grace’s eyes slid closed and she exhaled visibly. “I love you too, Daddy. And I’m fine… really. I’m okay.”

“I’m glad,” he said. He paused for a moment, thinking. There was more that needed to be said here, but the main thing was he’d gotten in touch with her and she was indeed okay. His voice grew a tad bit more stern as he said, “Now, let me talk to Bruce.”

Grace opened her eyes and looked at the man sitting next to her. “Daddy…”

He sighed audibly. “Gracie, don’t argue with me. Just trust me, okay? Give Bruce the phone.” He’d grown to love this man as if he were his own son. The love Bruce had for Grace had been obvious. And George O’Neil had overlooked a lot of things about Bruce Wayne that normally would have sent him over the edge. He found out from a colleague that Bruce was carrying on a relationship with Lex Luthor at the same time he was living with Grace. He knew that Grace knew it. He’d been enraged at first, but Janet had been on the receiving end of that tirade. In the end, he’d come to overlook it because Grace knew and Grace loved Bruce despite it. When the relationship with Luthor ended, George had allowed himself to hope that the man had come to his senses. Then, he broke Grace’s heart. It was a lot for a father to bear. He loved Grace. In some ways, he was more attached because unlike Hope, Grace *needed* to be openly loved and cherished. Hope went with the flow… Grace… well, Grace didn’t always have the strength to do that.

As he waited for Bruce to take the phone, something else occurred to him. It wasn’t his business if Grace were giving Bruce another chance. But as her father, there were things he felt he had the right to say… man to man. And he wanted to say them.

Pulling the phone away from her ear, Grace handed it to Bruce. “He wants to talk to you,” she informed him.

Bruce hesitated before taking the phone. Judging from the emotions he’d seen on her face and the tone of her voice as she spoke to her father, he knew the man on the other end of the phone line had not just called to chat. While Grace was apologizing, it had dawned on him why. The attack. It had been in the newspapers twice, both times the media had made note that Grace had not yet come forward to file charges against her attacker. The first day, she’d been sleeping off the results of the attack and fatigue caused by her unhealthy condition and emotional trauma. Trauma he’d caused, he didn’t fail to remind himself. Not that he’d ever forget. Then yesterday… yesterday had been so jumbled they’d simply forgotten everything but themselves and what was happening between them.

On neither of those days had they stopped to let Grace’s family know she was okay, that the attacker hadn’t hurt her badly. That she was safe.

And yet, George had known where to find her anyway, which told Bruce that Seth had been right last night when he said that he need not demand a retraction of yesterday’s article about him and Alex. There was a new article, no doubt. Photographs, too. They hadn’t been modest last night at the club; everyone had seen them kissing.

Bruce thought he knew what George O’Neil might want to say to him. More, he knew he deserved it, much as he’d deserved the talking-to Seth had given him and the tongue-lashing he’d received from Mrs. Habbibi.

He sighed and took the phone from Grace, meeting her eyes to let her know it’d be okay. Whatever her father said would be okay. “Hello, George,” he then said into the phone. It was an even, neutral voice. Not scared or hesitant, not tense or filled with animosity. Just a clear, even tone of voice that did nothing to indicate what thoughts might be in his head. As an afterthought, he added, “How’ve you been?”

Grace pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin upon them. No matter what Bruce’s look said, she knew her father. And though she trusted him… she sighed, watching Bruce’s expression closely. Asking her father how he’d been… well, that left her father open to so many things… almost like Bruce was asking for the tirade… as what? Punishment? Because he felt he deserved it? More than likely yes, but she wished he hadn’t asked anyway. In her mind, he didn’t deserve the tirades. It was her life, her decisions. But she couldn’t argue with her father. She never could.

“Are you asking how I’ve been over the past several months or the past couple days? Because honestly, I could give you a dissertation on either one.”

Janet reached out and placed her hand on her husband’s shaking arm. Then stood behind him, her arms wrapped around him in support. They’d been through so much with Grace… the broken engagement to Chad, the abuse from Bill, and the break-up with Bruce. It was understandable that George would want to protect her.

His wife’s support comforting him, he continued, “If I ask her, all she’s going to say to me is… ‘I’m okay.’ But you tell me, how is she? Why hasn’t she filed charges? And are *you* taking care of things or do I need to come there?” He appreciated the other man’s tone… that he wasn’t immediately defensive. To George it meant that
Bruce respected him. So he did his level best to show some respect in return and didn’t shout or raise his voice past the initial snarky answer. He surprised himself by how calm, yet stern, he was.

Bruce chose to ignore George’s response to his question. The look on Grace’s face was enough to tell him it had been a stupid way to approach this phone call. The rest of the questions he’d asked though… “You don’t need to come down here, George,” he started off. “Unless you want to. Grace is fine.” He looked over at her, examining her closely with his eyes. Her bruise was looking much better today, though it was yellowing slightly. By tomorrow, he knew the yellow would begin to fade and that soon, there would be no sign that she’d been attacked. “The, ah, Good Samaritan who saved her called the Manor. He must have known about our… history…” he trailed off, hating to repeat the lie because he’d love for at least Grace to know that he’d been her savior all along.

He met her eyes, seeking permission to speak of her injuries, and receiving it in a nod, continued, “She took a knock to the head and was out cold for a while. She’s been here, resting, ever since. We’re taking good care of her.” Bruce let his concern for Grace seep into his words, hoping George would hear and know he wasn’t letting her suffer.

His next words were dangerous. “Someone should have contacted you, let you know she was here, and for that, I’m truly sorry.” He hadn’t thought about it. All his thoughts had been on Grace, getting her well and getting them back where they belonged.

Listening to his responses, Grace knew exactly what her father had asked. In a way, it pleased her to know that George had turned to Bruce for the answers instead of her. Whether Bruce realized it or not, it meant that her father trusted the answers he would receive. It meant that although her dad was angry over events, both recent and past, when it came down to the wire, he was going to trust Bruce’s assessment. Reaching out, she took his hand with hers, offering him a smile.

Of course, that meant that her dad trusted Bruce’s responses more than her own, but she let that slide. No way would she have been as thorough as Bruce was.

George listened as Bruce told him that Grace was okay. He understood why the man who helped her would call Bruce to come for her. Of course, he didn’t ask why the man didn’t just contact someone in the building or simply call the police. It was puzzling, but he let it go. Bruce’s last comment though… he was right. As her father, he should have been the first person contacted. And that, more than anything, bothered him. “A phone call would have been nice. That’s all I’m saying. I…” He paused because saying it to his daughter was one thing, saying it to Bruce was another. “I can understand how you would get caught up in the moment, Bruce. It doesn’t excuse it. With everything that’s happened lately…” he paused again, “to be truthful,
I was one step away from flying to Gotham. My daughters mean the world to me.”

It was here that he wanted to expound on things… do all the fatherly threats to the man who’d hurt his little girl, but a soft kiss on his bald head helped to check that need. Instead, his tone sifted only mildly from stern to what Janet liked to call ‘fatherly’ as he said, “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for either one of them. Grace especially is precious… she,” he sighed again, contemplating how to put it. “She takes things to heart, Bruce. And that heart is easily broken. I don’t like it when she’s hurt.” He let it sit there… knowing the man on the other end was extremely intelligent and would understand what George meant.

Bruce understood. George wasn’t talking about just her attack. He was also talking about their break up, and how it had affected his daughter. He’d come to know Grace’s parents well enough during their relationship to know that George would give or do anything to see Grace happy, and he also knew that Bruce had broken some unspoken promise between them –to always keep her that way. He knew he’d failed George every bit as much as he’d failed Grace.

“I know,” he said softly, letting the other man know that he understood every possible meaning of the words. He wasn’t sure what else to say. He couldn’t just tell the man he wouldn’t let Grace get hurt again. He’d already broken that vow. Looking at Grace, he suddenly felt a wave of resentment rise up in him. Not for George, but for himself. He didn’t deserve this second chance. He’d done nothing to earn it. Nothing. “Believe me, George… I know.”

Grace had thought that all urges to panic were gone. She’d believed that their feet were firmly on the right path now. But the look in Bruce’s eyes, the tone he was using… she couldn’t help but panic again. If her father said anything to cause Bruce to change his mind, she’d never forgive him. Never. It was okay to be protective. She was his daughter, and he’d seen her through a lot of things in her life. He’d made sacrifices, but he’d done so because he was her father. She was a grown woman, and although mistakes had been made, everyone deserved second chances.

Her father tended to see her with rose-colored glasses and neglected to see that though Grace had been hurt… there were times in her past when she’d caused some hurt as well. And she’d been given a second chance. Everyone deserved it. And if her father had forgotten that, then she’d have to be the one to remind him.

Her eyes were beseeching Bruce… begging him to understand that she believed everything to be fine between them… that she’d let the water flow under the bridge.

While Bruce was speaking to George on the phone, Janet had turned her husband to face her. He was dancing on a dangerous line… a line that could very easily cause Grace’s next hurt to be his own fault. Neither Grace nor George would be able to forgive him for that. So she gave her husband a look, and smiled softly when he nodded.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. “Bruce…” he started, paused, made sure his tone was no longer accusatory, and continued,
“Bottom line… my daughter loves you.” At his words, Janet smiled encouragingly. “Maybe there’s nothing anyone can ‘say’ to make it right again. I’m not saying it can never be right again. I raised my girls to believe that people deserve second chances. They should be given to others as well as given to yourself. I’ve also taught them that actions speak louder than words. You were there for her that night. And I believe you when you say you’re going to see her through the rest of this. You’ll help her when she has to press charges…” Here he paused again, “She hates police stations. If she has to appear in court, I’ll trust your judgment on whether or not additional attorneys are needed for personal claims.”

It really wasn’t a leap of faith. Like he’d thought earlier, Bruce was a smart man. “It’s difficult for me, having them so far away and all I can do is be a voice on the phone.” He waved his hand. “Anyway, back to second chances and deserving them. The key is, not to make the same mistake. And like I said, she loves you. Just take care of her.”

And having said all that, he let out a long sigh. Inwardly, he swore to himself that though everyone did deserve a second chance… if Bruce hurt Grace again, George Howard O’Neil would more than likely end up being disbarred and thrown in jail. But it was a pledge he kept to himself and didn’t let show in his voice at all. It was going to take time to completely trust again. But trusting Bruce with the situation at hand was a small step. “One step at a time, okay?”

Bruce was nodding as George spoke about pressing charges and how Grace reacted to police stations. He knew from Courtney that this had been a problem when she was with Bill: she wouldn’t go to the police for help.

“One step at a time,” he echoed, neutrally, but his jaw had tightened. Fate and Grace, it would seem, had deemed him worthy of a second chance, but he couldn’t do as George suggested and give himself the same courtesy. He would never forgive himself for hurting her, nor would he forget it. It was another screw up on his part. Another brick in his own road to Hell: all good intentions that had turned to disaster.

But he loved Grace, and no matter what he felt about his own mistakes, he wouldn’t let her suffer for them anymore.

“I’ll see to it Grace does what needs to be done, George,” he said, meaning about her attack. “If things go to court…” he hoped they wouldn’t. He didn’t want to see her have to be put on display for some three-ring circus of a trial. “…I’ll be right there with her.” It was the least he could do, considering how much he had to make up for and never really could in one man’s lifetime.

“Thank you,” George said. Not being able to think of anything else to say, or anything that needed to be said, he nodded at Janet. “I’ll let you guys go. No need to put Gracie back on, just give her my love. And um… tell her to expect a call from her sister. I have no doubts that Hopeful will be calling her soon.” That done, he gave his goodbyes and waited for Bruce to do the same before hanging up.

When Bruce clicked off the phone, Grace resisted the urge to pounce on him with all the questions running through her mind. But she knew that look on his face, and she was honestly trying not to worry or panic.
“He’s mostly upset with me,” she started by way of explanation. “I didn’t call and should have.” She rubbed at the spot on her head.
“The press has gotten a hold of everything else, it was naive of me not to think that they wouldn’t report the attack.” She shrugged. “He just worries and when he gets upset, he reacts. Funny, isn’t it? He’s the best corporate contract lawyer around, and his daughters turn him into an emotional puddle.”

Bruce smiled, though it was a little weak and not one of the unguarded ones of the night before. “It’s okay, Grace,” he said, setting the phone down on the table. He moved his hand out from under hers, only to take her hand in it, squeezing lightly. “He loves you, and he was worried. I understand that.”

He reached out to touch her, caressing her face before letting his fingers drift to her yellowing bruise. His expression was thoughtful as he traced the color patterns of the injury. For a moment, he saw her falling to the ice again in his mind. When he’d first gone back for her, after unleashing more fury than he’d thought himself capable of on her attacker, he’d seen her motionless and thought the worst.

Had she…

No, he never wanted to think about that again.

“George said to expect phone calls,” he said, moving his hand to smooth back her hair from her face. He was leaning in to kiss her when two phones rang: the house phone and his cell phone.

He reached for his cell, noting that display had pulled up Lee’s phone number. Sighing, he nodded to Grace to take the other call.

*-*-*

Grace sighed, rather displeased at the timing of the phone call and looked at the caller ID. Her reaction was a bit different than Bruce’s though. With a slight curse, she stood and walked across the room.
Clicking on the phone, she said, “Hello.”

“I knew it!” her sister’s voice came across the line. “I KNEW it!! What the hell are you doing there? Tell me; please tell me that the mugging has caused temporary insanity. Because I’d hate to think that you were this insane without a good cause.”

“Hope, now is not the time.”

“Talked to Dad, did ya?” the girl’s voice sing-songed.

*-*-*

Bruce watched as Grace crossed the room to sit on the bed before turning his attention to his own call. “Bruce,” he said by way of greeting.

Lee Merryweather’s voice filled his ears instantly, giving Bruce the scolding he’d been expecting. “Just when were you going to tell me about Grace?” he demanded. “How do expect me to work for you if I’m constantly in the dark? My phone’s been ringing off the hook all morning, and as you can imagine, I didn’t have answers for any one of them!”

Bruce glanced over at Grace, noticing the tension in her stature as she spoke –albeit softly– to her sister.

*-*-*

“I said,” Grace’s voice dropped to a near whisper, “now is NOT the time.” Bruce’s voice had gone soft too. She could only wonder what his conversation was about. But the one thing that Grace did know, she did NOT want to have this conversation with her sister. Not now, not ever really.

“Too bad. I called, you answered. And if you hadn’t, I could have had myself a nice little talk with *him*.”

It was the disdain with which she said the last word that upset Grace the most. Sitting on the bed, she sighed. “I’m not getting into this with you. I’m not. I love you, Hopeful. But I’m not doing this.”

“It’s insanity… complete insanity,” she continued, like a bulldog with a bone. She just couldn’t let it go. “I think I have a right to get into this with you. I was there for you when he dumped you like yesterday’s garbage. Was he? No!”

“Let it go,” Grace’s tone more warning that what it had been before. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you and let you know that I was okay. Honestly, it didn’t dawn on me that the press would reach Kansas. I should have called and I didn’t. But, Hope, that’s all I’m apologizing for. Everything else, it’s my life. And you know, everyone deserves a second chance.”

“My ass. Has he said he’s sorry?”

*-*-*

It obviously wasn’t going well with Hope. Grace looked less and less happy as the phone call continued. Bruce wanted nothing more than to hang up on Lee and then Hope and kiss the frown off Grace’s face.

“Lee, this really isn’t the time,” he said, softly, into the phone.

“You know what? You say that every day. It’s *never* the time!”

“Lee.” Bruce’s voice held a note of warning to it, as if the other’s man job was at risk. It very well might be. “I’ve asked you to respect that I keep different hours than most people. You *always* call during what I consider my *personal* time.” He emphasized ‘personal’ in the hopes that Lee would assume he’d called in the middle of something intimate and excuse himself.

*-*-*

Grace sighed. “Wasn’t necessary.”

“Bullshit!” Hope’s voice grew louder. “Complete bullshit. Sis, I love you, but if he can’t even say he’s sorry…”

“I said it wasn’t necessary. Remember… actions speak louder than words and there are a lot of things that have happened that you don’t know about, so before you go casting stones, Baby Sister, you better make sure you aren’t in your glass house.”

“You aren’t thinking clearly. Or at least you aren’t thinking with your head. Out of the blue, this man asks you to move out of his house. Admit it, you had no idea it was coming. One day you were happy, sure you thought he was moping over leaving Lex, but you were happy. The next day, your shit’s being packed and you’re back in the apartment. What makes this time different? What do you possibly know now that you didn’t know before?”

She looked over at Bruce. Hope had one point. The split had come out of nowhere for her. Her glance then turned to the door… the one that led to the room that had been Lex’s while he was here. “You’re wrong,” she said softly, realizing. “You’re wrong. There were clues… there are always clues. It’s just whether or not you choose to see them.”
She looked back to Bruce, her eyes softening. “I know everything’s going to be fine.”

“You knew before, so forgive me if I don’t buy into it. I sure as hell know Dad didn’t.”

“Are you sure?” Grace asked rather smugly. “I think Dad realizes that I’m a grown woman and can make my own decisions. I know he believes in second chances. And if you would get over yourself, you’d know that too.” She sighed, knowing Hope wouldn’t let it go. Hope rarely let anything go.

“You were suicidal. I know that. Seth probably does. Courtney was too oblivious to anyone else but Bruce to see it. But I knew it, and so does Seth… so again, sorry, Big Sister, but I’m not going to be that forgiving.”

“Drop it, Hope,” she fairly hissed, not liking having *that* thrown into her face.

“What, the truth?”

*-*-*

“At least give me something to tell the vultures, Bruce,” Lee asked after a groveling apology for ‘disturbing the happy couple.’ “How ‘back together’ are you?”

Bruce’s brows furrowed. Grace was moving back in, but he didn’t necessarily want that public knowledge just yet. Haste on their part would create a bigger stir than last night’s public display of affection.

“We’re working things out,” he supplied instead. They were, really. Even with Grace moving in, it would take a while for their broken fences to be mended. Especially with all the new rules to play by.

“And the attack? Did that play a factor?”

“Lee,” Bruce warned.

“Okay, o-kay!” Lee sounded exasperated. “What about lover boy Norton?”

Alex? Bruce rubbed a hand over his brow. “That answer should be obvious, don’t you think?” he all but growled.

*-*-*

She pulled the phone away from her ear and was tempted just to hang up. Of everyone she had to deal with, Hope was the last person she wanted to talk to. Why? Because Hope would say the things that no one else would. Hope wasn’t her friend… wasn’t her mother… Hope was her sister. “It may have been the truth, but it’s not so now.”

“And when he does it again?”

“He isn’t going to,” she said just as softly, trying not to give off any indication of just how angry with her sister she was. “Like I said, I make my own decisions. I decide what goes on in my life. And
I want to be with Bruce. And bottom line, you’ll accept it.”

“I will not!” Hope fairly shouted.

Grace remained calm. “You will. You will because I’m asking you to.
You will because he makes me happier than anyone in this world ever has. You will because you have seen what it’s like for me when I don’t have him. And I can tell you he won’t do it again because he felt it to. There were reasons… everything happened for reasons that honestly,
Hope, you can’t fathom.” And that was the truth. Hope was a good person, but she saw things differently than Grace did.

When Hope had first found out that Grace was dating Bruce, she’d been excited because he was rich… and he was a story. Hope never really got beyond seeing Bruce as anything other than ‘larger than life’. She constantly teased, asking if he had any rich friends he could introduce her to. And yes, it was teasing, but Grace often wondered if there was some level of truth to it. She stopped the teasing though, when Grace had asked her to. She’d not asked for interviews… not used her ‘connection’ to Bruce Wayne to try to further her career. So on some level, Hope understood. But on others, she didn’t.

There was silence for a long moment on the other end of the line.
Finally, a much calmer Hope said, “I still don’t like it. You say he has his reasons… and I’m sure you believe they’re important ones. And maybe Seth can let him back in… hell; I’m sure Dad did the same. But
I’m sorry, Gracie, I can’t. Not right now.”

“Fair enough,” Grace responded. “But, and I’ll ask you only once. If we’re all together, you keep your opinions to yourself… unless he asks.” She knew he wouldn’t, so it was a safe codicil. “Don’t go causing any more problems than necessary. Okay? For me?”

Hope had been all ready to jump on the fact that she had every right to speak her own mind when Grace hit her with the ‘For me’. There wasn’t anything they wouldn’t do for each other. And she knew there was only one answer she could give. “Fine. I don’t have to like it, but fine.”

“Thanks, Hopeful. I love you.” She noticed Bruce was wrapping up his phone conversation and felt the sudden need to just have his arms around her. “I need to go, okay.”

“Anything for you, Gracie. Love you too.” With that, she hung up.

Grace clicked off the phone and sat on the bed, waiting patiently for Bruce’s call to end. It was behind her now. She’d dealt with her friends and her family. It was behind her and she could completely move on. Though she hadn’t wanted to deal with Hope right now, at least it was over.

Bruce heaved a sigh of frustration as he ended the call and then turned off his cell phone entirely. But not before informing Lee that if he mentioned Lex Luthor to him again, he really would be out of a job. Rising from his chair, he crossed the room and sat down on the bed next to Grace. He didn’t say anything, just slid his arms around her. Their bodies sagged together, as if they were supporting each other.

“Lee says hi,” he said, speaking at last. “You’ll like him. He’s neurotic, consumes way too much caffeine and I swear he’s even pushier than Nee.” While he spoke, he was stroking her hair, his fingers losing themselves in her curls. He sensed her need for comfort, and was more than willing to give it.

She sighed against him and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, holding him to her. “I didn’t think it was humanly possible for anyone to be pushier than Courtney.” She was reasonably pleased that he didn’t ask about her phone call. Her head rested on his shoulder, burying her face in his neck. “And there’s nothing wrong with being a bit neurotic. Seems like he’s just looking out for you.”

She hadn’t realized just how much his physical closeness was draining away the tension until just then. Cause as she sat and thought about it… Bruce was looking out for her… and it was fantastic. Necessary… as Hope had made her extremely tense.

Bruce chuckled softly, the first semi-happy sound to come out of his mouth since Grace’s father had called. “Neither did I, until Constance recommended him to me!” He continued to stroke her hair, sensing the change in her as she snuggled closer to him. “I can’t complain, though, he’s been good for my public image.” Lee had been. Between Lex, two break ups, and his recent near-seclusion, Bruce’s public image had been battered. Rumors flew and Lee had sorted them out. He kept Bruce out in the open when all he wanted was to disappear behind both his grief and his new hobby. Lee, though pushy and having no sense of timing, had been a godsend.

His hand left her hair, trailing down the back of her neck to her back. He rubbed her back in a circular motion, and he felt her relax some more.

“They’re just trying to look out for you, too, you know,” he said, meaning George and Hope.

She sighed audibly. Okay, so he was going to bring it up. Her eyes slid closed as she let her sense of smell and touch take control. It relaxed her even more and she responded, even though it wasn’t something she really wanted to get into. “Dad is. I believe that.
Hope… she just pushes and pushes and pushes. Dad… he’ll rationally come around because he thinks things through. Hope gets something in her head and she’s right. She’s like a dog with a bone and it’s exhausting sometimes. Like I can’t make my own decisions. Like I’m an idiot or something. Actually, she thinks I’m insane.”

“Grace…” he said softly, leaning in to kiss the bruise on her forehead. “I… hurt you.” He couldn’t even voice what he knew he’d put her through. “Why would someone go back the person who’d done so much damage to them?” He didn’t want to argue with her, but he knew this is what Hope must be thinking. “She’ll come around. It’s like your dad said, he taught his girls how to forgive. I just… have a lot of making up to do.”

She moved her head from his shoulder so she could look at him. Her hand went to his cheek and her eyes held his. “He did teach us that. And he taught us that people deserve second chances. He taught us that love can truly pull you through anything.” She swallowed hard, knowing that he mentally tortured himself over what happened between them. “We both hurt, but Bruce, it’s in the past. And like I told Hope, I have a pretty good idea as to why it happened.” She caressed his cheek.

The memory of her first day back here filtered into her mind and she chuckled lightly. “That first day… after the attack… I asked Alfred why you did it. And he wouldn’t answer me. All he said was that I already knew. That I knew you better than almost anyone. And I mulled on it. Really thought things through and put them in perspective. Yes, it hurt. But there were reasons. Like the questions I’m not supposed to ask.” And she’d just voiced the link that she’d been considering the longest. The breakup and the secrecy were connected. “I look at you now and see my future. I look at you and know that I’m safer, more protected, here than I am anywhere else. And if there has to be questions that go unanswered, I can live with that. I can because I love you. You! The entire package.” She ran her finger along his jaw line. “Why would someone take someone back?” she repeated his question. “Love… knowing that the bumps in the road make reaching the end destination that much sweeter. It’s not the easiest road, but we’re here. End destination.”

She hoped the rambling made sense. It was a lot to say, and the meanings were deeper than mere words could express. But she had to say them. Now more then ever, he needed to know, without a doubt, where her heart stood and what her thoughts were.

It took a while for the full extent of her words to sink in, and when they did, Bruce swore loudly, pulling away from her to pace the room in frustration. “I’m an idiot,” he added after moments of berating himself in his mind while she watched, confused, from the bed. “Lex said… and I believed… damn it, I should have known better!”

“What? Bruce?”

Her query halted his pacing, and he turned to look at her, his anger for himself showing in his eyes. She didn’t know what he was talking about. He’d never told her about that night, partially because he’d believed Lex’s prediction. “Those questions you can’t ask? Lex wanted the answers. He doesn’t differentiate between secrets and lies… thinks they’re the same animal and that if anyone is keeping anything from him, they must be out to hurt or undermine him. He knows I’d never do that, but he still wanted to know. He wouldn’t accept that there was something about myself I couldn’t reveal to him… to anyone.”

They’d fought about it all the time. Every visit Bruce made to Metropolis and every one Lex made to Gotham ended in a vicious argument and sex. The sex was a result of the high tensions between them, enflaming the pent up need to be with one another after any amount of absence. It was like make-up sex, and the first few times, this is what Bruce had thought it was. Until he realized that, unlike a make up, Lex had no intention of forgiving Bruce and never again asking about his secrets. It was anger-sex, if anything. Desire fuelled by frustration on both their parts.

They’d broken up because Lex could no longer accept Bruce’s secrets and because Bruce could no longer see the man he’d fallen in love with through the hate.

“He said that someday you would want the same answers and then I’d lose you because…. because of my lies.” He hadn’t wanted to relive all that pain, all the mistrust and the arguing. He’d broken up with her rather than risk repeating it.

“I wasn’t lying, Grace. Not to you, not to Lex. I just couldn’t –I can’t– reveal this secret. It’s too dangerous.” Both for him and for the people he couldn’t tell. He knew that. Muggers and bank robbers weren’t the only criminal element in Gotham, and while those were starting to fear the rumors on the streets, there were bigger predators who might not. He couldn’t risk letting the people he loved fall into harm over knowing his secret.

So, he’d broken up with her, sent her back to her apartment, and ruined both their lives. But Lex had been wrong. Grace hadn’t asked. She wasn’t making the same demands on him that Lex had. She was willing to accept him, secrets and all.

Lex and been wrong… and he had been a fool.

Standing there in the middle of the room, he hung his head ashamedly. “I’m sorry, Grace. I didn’t trust you, and I should have. I thought Lex was right, but he wasn’t even close, and I should have known better. I should have known you better.”

She sat listening quietly through his outburst. He was angry, and in all honesty, she’d never seen him quite like this. It didn’t frighten her, as she knew he was directing it all toward himself.

She was also a bit stunned; as he was revealing things he never had before… about his breakup with Lex and why he’d asked her to leave. She shouldn’t have been surprised, in all reality, that Lex was behind it. The last few times she’d seen him, his looks toward her had been cold and calculating… even a bit smug. He was a master manipulator who had made sure he won. Oh, he lost Bruce, but he’d deliberately planted seeds of doubt in his mind about her before he left.

But Bruce was right about something else as well. He should have trusted her. He should have come to her and talked to her. After a year and a half of living with her, he should have known her well enough to understand that she would have worked with him. He should have known she wasn’t like Lex. She wouldn’t push and demand. She didn’t have to know everything.

He’d let Lex manipulate him. He was angry with himself because of it. He’d pushed her away, and it had nearly killed her… him as well.

Truth be known, she was a bit upset with him herself. Though, that had seeped away the moment he said he was sorry. Because he was. And she’d honestly forgiven him a long time ago, even in light of his admission.

She stood, knowing he was waiting for a response from her and knowing that every second she didn’t reply was a second he loathed himself even more.

Her hands slid into the pockets of her jeans and she sighed heavily.
“You should have trusted me, known that I’m not like the other people in your life. I’m not like Lex.” Even saying his name now caused a bitter taste in her mouth. “You did let him push us apart. Hell,
Bruce, that’s probably what he wanted all along! If he couldn’t keep you, he’d make sure no one else did either.”

Her hands came out of her pockets, and she closed the space between them. He tried to back off at first, seeming to want her disdain because he felt he deserved it. But she was persistent, and in the end, she managed to grasp his hand. “You should have talked to me, but we can’t go back in time and do it all over again. We can’t get back the time we lost. So let’s not beat ourselves up about it anymore.”
She squeezed his hand. Her demeanor became a bit more determined as she continued, “I’ll be damned before I lose one more minute with you. I should have fought then, and I didn’t. You better believe I’m going to fight now. I’m going to.” She made him look at her as he’d barely lifted his head while she spoke. “I don’t need to know every detail about your life. We’re a couple, yes.”

His eyes went a bit wide as she said that.

“We *are* a couple,” she repeated, this time stressing the word ‘are’.
“We share a home and our lives, but I don’t need to know everything in order to know that you love me. I don’t need to know all your secrets.” She paused again, more this time to collect her thoughts than anything. “You asked me to trust you, and I do. But you have to trust me too. You have to trust me enough to talk to me about things and not to let them fester. Trust me enough to know that I’m not going to press when you ask me not to. There’s nothing we can’t work through… so long as we do it together. That’s all I’m asking.”

The pain of his revelation would subside in time. What was most important to her now was that they were presented with this second chance… and he had finally opened up to her. She hadn’t liked what she’d heard, but it was out there now… and they would deal with it.
She gave him another sigh, figuring he might not understand this next part. “As for forgiveness… that’s something that happened a long time ago for me. You may not believe you deserve it, but you have it nonetheless. I love you and because of that love, I forgave you long ago.”

Seth and George had said pretty much the same, but that did not prepare Bruce for hearing her say it. A part of him, to be fair, didn’t want to hear it. A part of him wanted to hear her scream, yell, and berate him for not having enough faith in her. As he should have. A part of him wanted her to lash out for four months of emotional pain and suffering, all caused because he hadn’t been smart enough to know he’d been played for a fool.

And a part of him remembered how it felt last night to hold her, to feel her come alive beneath him. To feel her love for him as it washed over him. A part of him wanted to believe he could truly be worthy of that love again.

“Grace…” he began, raising his eyes to meet hers more fully. He believed her; he believed they could work through this. They had to, because he wasn’t losing her again. Nor did he have to, since she’d forgiven him. ‘But how do I forgive myself?’ he thought, the doubt showing on his face.

Caressing his cheek softly, she fully understood the look in his eyes. He blamed himself for what he had allowed to happen, for what he had allowed Lex to make him believe. She wished with all her heart that she could help him with that part of it. They were a couple, and she could hold him, forgive him, and love him; but she couldn’t make him get beyond his own self-castigation.

Her finger traced along his jaw to his bottom lip where it lingered for a long moment. Her free hand took his again and she brought it up to her chest. “I know it’s easier said than done, I know you blame yourself… but don’t. Hindsight is 20/20, but it can’t change things. We have a future, you and I.” She smiled lightly. “Like I said, I’m not letting you go this time. It’s not happening. So, for me, forgive yourself. Put it behind you… don’t dwell on it. At least try… for me,” she said the last for emphasis. “I’m sure you want me angry and resentful, but I can’t be. I know you feel that way toward yourself. But I love you, Bruce Wayne. So, please, just try… for us.” It *was* easier said than done, as she said.

He’d hurt her, and while it’d been done for what he still believed to be the right reasons, the decision had been made from faulty information. He’d believed the wrong person. Oh, his heart had known the truth. Every day without her had been painful, because his heart had known there was a better way. Alfred had known. Courtney, Seth, and Miles had known. Constance had known, too… but her response had been a sharp “I knew you would hurt her” and nothing more on the subject.

Everyone had known, and still he’d tried to deny it because he thought it was the right thing to do.

Her heart beat beneath his fingertips, and he knew without question that it beat for him. If Grace could forgive him… maybe… maybe he could forgive himself. Or try, as she asked. How hard could it be?

He nodded slowly, still thinking it through. “I can try,” he said at last. “I love you, Grace. I can’t excuse not trusting you, because I should have. But I’ll do whatever you want… whatever it takes to make it right between us.”

*-*-*

Grace and Bruce met the movers at the front door. The truck contained all her belongings, but it was the mover who got out of the passenger’s side that held the most valuable ‘package’ from her entire apartment.
Handing her the cat carrier, she asked him, “How was he?”

“Just fine, Ma’am,” the man said before heading back out to the truck and helping the others unload.

Setting the carrier on the table, she opened it up and pulled the cat out from it. In the past, Dizzy had earned his name because he was rather insane. However, Grace’s financial status had allowed her to have some specialized tests run on him and they were actually able to pinpoint that he’d had a chemical imbalance. He’d been on his daily medications for over a year now. He was a calm cat… a happy, well-adjusted cat. He didn’t tear things up, although sometimes he would get annoyed, it wasn’t anywhere near the extreme of what it was before.

Grace held Dizzy to her, hugging him closely. “Remember this place baby boy,” she said softly to the cat as he purred. “You’re home again.” Her eyes moved from the feline to Bruce, and she smiled. “His motor’s running a mile a minute. I think he remembers this place.”

“You both are,” Bruce said, moving closer and reaching out to stroke Dizzy’s back. Between the medication, and months of living together, he and the animal had come to understand each other. Dizzy purred louder in response to the petting. Then Bruce withdrew his hand, knowing that like all cats, Dizzy was fickle and that he might not appreciate the attention in a few minutes.

Bruce kissed her cheek before turning his attention to the movers. The man who’d brought in Dizzy approached.

“Where do you want the boxes?” he asked.

Bruce gave them directions to Grace and Dizzy’s rooms and reminded them to be careful going up and down the stairs. There were, he realized, too many antiques that could conceivably be broken.

Dizzy squirmed in her arms, letting her know that the cuddling was becoming a bit suffocating. She looked at the open door and the influx of movers and then sighed, deciding that for right now, the carrier was the safest place for him. She slipped him into it and watched as the movers continued to bring in boxes. The last time she’d moved, she and Bruce had spent hours packing all her clothing. She remembered the way he blushed when she’d teased him about packing her underwear. She highly doubted he would have blushed over it now. But still, it was easier this way.

Moving back over to Bruce, she stood behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist and her cheek resting on his shoulder blade. “It will take days to get everything unpacked,” she said softly. She actually did emphasize the word ‘everything’ because in all reality, it was everything. The furniture, although Bruce didn’t know this yet, and everything else was gone. “Days and days,” she said softly.

“Alfred will help,” he assured her, not seeing her thoughtful expression from behind him. He could understand being bothered by the prospect of unpacking it all.

He was glad to see her things being returned, although, he could have sworn there was less of it when she’d moved out four months earlier. It was a thought he quickly dispelled, however, as he turned in her arms. Placing a finger underneath her chin, he tilted her face up towards his and kissed her softly. When another load of boxes passed through the front door, however, his expression turned into a puzzling frown.

She inhaled deeply and exhaled a sigh. She’d gotten up the nerve to talk to him about this earlier but the phone calls had come in and things became a bit intense, and the fact of her apartment had been forgotten until the movers called requesting permission to bring the truck onto the property. Giving him another quick kiss, she pulled away and took his hand, leading him into the library. Some conversations just didn’t need to be heard by strangers who were moving in and out of the Manor.

His expression, though puzzled before, was downright confused now.
“Grace?” he questioned when she closed the door behind them.

“I meant to bring this up earlier, but we sort of got interrupted.”
She paused again. It was her own advice, and only her own advice that gave her the strength to press on with what she was going to say. She trusted him, and there wasn’t anything they couldn’t discuss. “I… well… Nothing’s been signed yet or anything…” She inhaled and as she released the breath, she quickly said, “I don’t want to keep the apartment anymore.” There, it was out. Now all she could do was fidget and hope he didn’t flip.

At first, Bruce didn’t understand what she was saying. She was moving in again. He wasn’t forcing her to leave. He wanted her to stay.

“Grace, you don’t have to go back to the apartment if you–” He met her eyes and stopped short, finally catching the meaning of her words. “Oh,” was all he could say.

If she had talked quickly when she first said she didn’t want to keep it, she spoke even more quickly now. “I know when we discussed it before we both wanted me to keep it so we could have a cushion but the more I think about it the more the ‘cushion’ feels like an albatross and I really don’t want to have that damn thing hanging around my neck
If you really want me to keep it I will but I just well it I just.” She finally took a breath. “I just don’t want to keep it anymore is all.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot, put her hands in her pockets and took them out again. Man, sometimes taking one’s own advice really was difficult.

It wasn’t something he’d thought about. Actually, Bruce hadn’t thought about the apartment at all. They’d almost never used it after Grace moved in the first time. She had gone to stay there the first couple of times Lex had ever come to visit. Before things got weird. But then Alfred had told her what they’d both felt –that it was her home, and Lex was a guest. She didn’t have to leave her home to make a guest comfortable. After that, she’d always stayed. It was a big enough house that they hadn’t needed to run into each other if they hadn’t wanted to.

Alfred, of course, had been right. The Manor was her home, then and now. It wasn’t a matter of what Bruce wanted her to do. What mattered was what Grace wanted.

“Okay,” he said. “If that’s what you want.” He said it so simply, as if he didn’t have to do more than give it a passing thought. Which, he didn’t. Before, when he’d first asked her to live with him, maybe he had. But not now, not after living with her for the best year of his life. He knew it in his heart… she belonged here, not in any apartment.

Relief washed over her in a wave and all the visible tension vanished with it. Okay, so the advice was hard to take, but at least he didn’t seem too freaked out about it. “I just don’t ever, ever, ever want to go back there again,” she said simply, not knowing what she would have done if he’d said or done anything other that what he did. She took her hands out of her pockets… again. Somehow they kept on ending up in there today. Striding across the room, she didn’t stop until she filled his space with hers and suddenly she was hugging him. Holding him as if he was the gravity that held her down to the Earth.

“Home is where the heart is, and my heart is here… with you.” And that was the absolute truth. It’s exactly why when she’d gone back to it before, she hadn’t felt like she was home. Even after all those long months, that apartment hadn’t felt like home. She was a stranger living in a strange area. She was displaced. But not anymore. And she’d never have to go back to that place again.

He held her tightly to him. In the last few days, they’d run the emotional gauntlet –going from fear and uncertainty one minute to blissful happiness to confusion, to anger… too many emotions. Bruce felt drained, and he knew that Grace must feel the same. So he held her, his right hand moving up to stroke her hair. The curls still tangled around his fingers, but he was getting used to it. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he kissed her bruise softly. Things would get better soon. They just needed time to find normal again. Time to adjust and work through the hurt. “Our home is together,” he told her softly. He knew that now. He’d never doubt it again. “You won’t ever have to leave, again, Grace. I promise.”

She sighed again, turning her head so she could rest it in his neck. Standing across the room, she’d been uncertain as to how he would react to the news that she didn’t want the apartment. How silly had that been? Because right here, with his strong arms holding her securely, she knew there was no place else she’d have to be. She was home. “Thanks goodness,” she said lightly, “cause I already sold my furniture. Or actually, Alfred saw to it that the furniture was sold,” she admitted. “I plan on going to the landlord tomorrow and closing out the lease… whatever I have to do to break it… I’m going to do.”

“If your landlord won’t let you break, we’ll” –meaning himself, mostly– “pay off the rest of the months on the contract and just not renew. It won’t be a problem.” He turned his head to kiss the top of her head. “Whatever you want… need… Grace, we’ll do it.” He wanted her –no, needed her– to know that he wouldn’t let her down again.

He released her just long enough to take her hand and lead her to the overstuffed leather chair. Sitting, he pulled her down in his lap. She leaned into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder and they simply held one another. No words, just comfort touches. Bruce rubbed her back, kissed her hair and forehead. She snuggled closer, rubbing his arm, absently.

This was how Courtney found them when she pushed open the adjoining door from the living room. “Ha!” she called back to her husband. “I told you Bruce wouldn’t be helping her unpack!”

Seth, appearing to mimic Miles’ patience, rolled his eyes teasingly.
“Of course you did, dear, I can’t imagine why I ever doubted you.” He smiled at Bruce and Grace, noticing that neither was in a big hurry to get up from the chair. It had to be the chair, he decided. People just seemed to love cuddling in it.

Grace rested her forehead on Bruce’s for another long moment before turning her eyes to the redhead. “You know, there’s a reason why you have the nickname Hurricane Courtney,” she teased.

“And here I come over out of concern for the both of you, and I get branded.” She sat dramatically on the couch.

Seth, sitting beside her, winked at Bruce and Grace. “You are a pushy, lunatic Hurricane… and we love you… very much.” He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her to him.

Bruce gave a small laugh and winked back. “Of course we do. Even when she is steamrolling her way through our lives.” He winked again, his tone light enough to let even a total stranger –which none of them were– know he was teasing. Though her words had set him to wondering.
Courtney had said she came over out of concern. She did that a lot, as if she knew somehow that something was wrong in his life. And today had been very… tumultuous.

“Listen… boys…” she stressed that last word, earning a giggle from Grace, “if I wanted to be insulted…” She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “It’s a good thing I love you or heads would roll.”

Grace turned ever so slightly on Bruce’s lap and addressed her friend. “And if anyone could make heads roll with a single glare…”

“It’s Courtney Evelyn Blaire-Meyers,” Seth’s brows furrowed as he said, “That doesn’t rhyme with glare anymore.”

“It could,” Courtney mock threatened before turning her attention to Bruce and Grace. “Okay, so the movers are moving you in. I take it unpacking is put on hold. So, what gives? What’s up?” She didn’t normally come after both of them at once, but she figured shock might work in her favor.

Behind her, Seth said nothing. Another action that was very reminiscent of Miles Blaire.

“We’re taking a break,” Bruce offered lightly, though he knew Courtney would see right through it. She always did. Although, in a way, he hadn’t lied. They had been taking a break –from the talking and the painful memories, and that weird look Grace got in her eyes sometimes. He’d seen it twice now. Once in the bedroom and once when she told him about the apartment. Instinctively, the arm behind Grace’s back circled a little tighter, as if by just thinking about that look, Grace would get up and leave him alone in the chair.

Courtney was leaning forward a bit, watching the two of them with an intensity that was uniquely her. Bruce was somewhat behind Grace so she didn’t see the concerned look, and her reaction to the tightened embrace was almost… needy. Sure, they were bound to have intense days ahead of them, but there was more going on. Abruptly, she stood.
Touching Grace’s shoulder, she said, “I’m stealing Bruce.” That said, she winked. “So hop off his lap and keep my husband company. Seth cannot be trusted. He’s like a bull in a china shop.” She turned and started to walk out of the room. Turning back, she looked at them.
“Are you moving yet?”

Grace sighed… “Steamroller… definitely a steamroller.” Still, she stood and waited for Bruce to stand. Kissing him softly, she whispered, “Good luck.”

“But a well-intentioned one,” he replied with a small smile. “I’ll be fine.” He kissed her cheek softly and started to follow Courtney out of the room. At the door between the library and the living room, he paused to look back at her, and then Seth. The look he gave Seth clearly said ‘take care of her for me.’

*-*-*

The solarium was warm, despite the late-January chill, and this was where Courtney led Bruce. The light scent of winter flowers hung in the air, and the only sound was that of the water in the fountain at the room’s center.

Bruce came here often in the winter. It was the closest thing to being outdoors –being close to nature– that he could get sometimes. And it was pleasant.

More importantly, this room was all his. It hadn’t existed until one year, just after his parents died, when Alfred had asked for it to be commissioned. Bruce had gotten sick and had been very ill. The doctors said he needed sun and fresh air, but the manor was musty and old and Bruce was too sick to pack up and fly halfway around the world to someplace that wasn’t. The contractors worked round the clock to refurbish the abandoned solarium, and their usual summer-time gardener had been called in to help bring in plants that would thrive in the room after being transplanted. The result? His own private paradise.

And Courtney knew that he loved it, that it relaxed him. Without asking, he knew that this was why she’d brought him there now.

She led him over to one of the benches. It just so happened that this one was in the direct sunlight. And as they sat down, the warmth spread over their skin. Courtney knew Bruce craved sunlight. He may not openly admit it, pretending to like being holed up in an office or a dark room. But she knew, when he truly wanted to relax, that this was where he would come. So here is where she led him. Seth and Grace would do their own talking. Hell, they’d probably find them in that chair! But she was doing her talking to Bruce here.

When he settled in beside her, she said, “Noticed a lot of things when
I walked in today.” Courtney was never one for dancing around a point. “I saw movers bringing *all* of Grace’s belongings. I saw Dizzy, happily sleeping in his crate. I saw two people sitting in a chair holding on to one another like any moment it was all going to be ripped apart.” She sighed. “I saw *less* of those looks yesterday than I saw in five minutes of watching you two in that room. Yet today, it looks like Grace is moving in for good.”

She looked at him, her face the epitome of concern. Why couldn’t they just let themselves be happy? “What’s going on, Bruce?”

“Grace *is* moving in for good,” he started off by saying. That, possibly, was the only good thing about this day. He sighed. “It hasn’t been a good day, Nee.” He wasn’t sure where to start. The marathon of phone calls from this morning… Lex’s manipulation… his own idiotic stupidity… or that heart wrenching look in Grace’s eyes. It bothered him most of all.

So he just started talking, an uncharacteristic move for him, but he needed to explain it all. He just barreled through it without waiting for her reactions. George’s phone call, Hope’s… even Lee’s, though he skipped over the comments about Lex. Then he told her an abbreviated version of the revelation regarding Lex, and both their break ups. “Why didn’t I trust her, Nee?” he asked, sounding tortured. “We never would have broken up if I had!”

He sighed again, because talking about that brought to mind the look in Grace’s eyes when he’d said he was sorry. That look he couldn’t explain. “Nee…” he said after a heavy pause. “What happened to Grace after we… after I…?” he still couldn’t bring himself to say it outright. “There’s something wrong with her. I can see it in her eyes. One minute we’re fine… she’s fine… and the next it’s like… the world is collapsing in on itself.”

She was literally seething when Bruce told her about Lex. She had been about to give him a piece of her mind over that man when Bruce moved on to the next bit. And perhaps this was the bit that he needed to hear more than anything. But, Lord help Lex Luthor if he ever ran into her. They joked and teased about Courtney being pushy… a Hurricane… a steamroller. But, when it came to her friends… to the people she loved most in the world. No one, but no one fucked with them. And Lex Luthor had fucked with Bruce AND Grace. The manipulative bastard… Her normally bright green eyes flashed with an instance of hatred before focusing on Bruce.

Now was about answering his questions.

So for the second time that day, Bruce heard the words… “Grace is special, Bruce.”

She paused, looking upwards. If Bruce had asked Grace, she more than likely would either gloss over it, or tell him. The former was the most likely. “I don’t know how she was right at first. Seth took care of her. You were my priority.” She sighed. “But Grace… remember when you first met her. You came back from Smallville because Whitney had upset me…” She sighed. “Over the pictures. And we talked about Grace and what it was that drew you to her. I mentioned her light… her vibrancy… her love of life.” She looked over at him. “That’s the way she is. But Bruce…” She didn’t want to cause him any more pain, but she had never been dishonest with him either. “She hurts easily. She’s never really been able to just give a little bit of herself… not when it really matters.”

Running her hand through her hair, she sat back on the bench. “Her mother abandoned her and Hope shortly after the divorce. Grace… she just shut down. As close as she was to her father, she was equally close to her mother. And the woman just left them… no goodbye’s… nothing.” The memory of what George O’Neil had been left to deal with floated back to her like it was yesterday. “Grace’s way of dealing with pain is to shut down. By the time I got to her, she was functioning… somewhat. But Seth said she was all but catatonic when he got to her. I don’t know what he said to her… what he did… but whatever it was, it got her moving enough so she was functioning minimally when I got there.”

He bowed his head, eyes closing as a lump rose in his throat. He understood shutting down. He’d been there himself twice in his life. Once when his parents died… and once when faced with the thought of losing both Lex and Courtney –his lover and his best friend– to Atropos’ whim. He hadn’t been able to bear the pain.

Grace…

Had he done *that* to her? Brought her such pain that it caused her to close herself in? He knew the feeling. The way your mind goes numb and your body feels like a shell because you’re not there anymore. You’re so far inside yourself that nothing can hurt you. Or so you think. You’re really hurting yourself.

Had Grace done that? Had Grace gone down that path because of him?

He recalled the look on her face when she awoke in her bedroom the first day and saw him. Heard again the tone in her voice when she asked him to hold her one more time. The same voice she’d used to ask if she could get rid of her apartment. And that look… the way her eyes lost all their luster and echoed with despair, as if she were afraid he’d reject her all over again.

He’d promised Grace he’d forgive himself, but right now, he didn’t think he ever could. Not now.

“Nee…” he began, but stopped himself. What would he say? What could possibly leave his mouth that might begin to express the level of hatred he felt for himself at this moment. So instead, he stood and walked the few steps away from Courtney to the fountain. “Then what happened?” he asked, his voice tense with the need to know.

Courtney could see what he was going through. And damn him, why did he keep asking her? Why couldn’t she just lie? Because she knew him. He wasn’t taking this truth well.

Standing, she walked over to some of the blooming flowers and toyed with the petals. “She clung to Seth for the longest time. Went probably a week, maybe ten days, where he was the only one she’d respond to.” She swallowed hard. “When Bill…” She shook her head and tried again, “When we brought her home from New York, I was the only one she’d respond to. But this time, she responded to him. It’s why they’re so close now.” She turned to him. “She loves you. I’ve known her a very long time, Bruce. She loves you, needs you, more than
I’ve ever known her to love or need anyone.” Crossing to the fountain, she touched his hand with hers. “She did tell me something though… one day while we were talking… She said if you came to her door and asked her to come back, she would.”

She gave his hand a squeeze. “And I know you want to know all of this, but you can’t let it tear you up inside. She’ll know. To be honest, I didn’t want to tell you. But you asked, and I won’t lie to you… not ever. It’s okay to be upset with yourself over this. You made a mistake. But it’s in the past. Bruce, let it go. The two of you have a chance. It’s difficult at first. I know. Everyone wants to put in his or her two cents worth. The first few days are going to be difficult emotionally. You need time… just the two of you. But you have a real chance. She’s moving back in. Ready to give her life back to you. She trusts you with things that even I would question. Don’t blow it all because you’re feeling guilty about what happened months ago. Understand that it’s going to be rough. When she gets worried or ‘that look in her eyes’ hold her, reassure her. She’ll do the same for you. It’s how it works.”

A part of him knew that Courtney was right. They did need time to find themselves. Not that he believed the world would let them be, that is. But he seriously doubted his ability to just ‘let it go.’ He’d known he’d hurt her, but to that extent? To the extent that sometimes when she looked at him, she truly believed he would do it again? How could he let that go? How could he forgive himself when one haunted look brought it all back? He’d crushed her, as sure as he been Bill or Chad… any of the other ones who’d hurt her.

No, he hadn’t meant to; he hadn’t deliberately set out to break her spirit. In that respect, he was quite different from the others. But, just maybe, that made it worse? She’d been happy; she’d trusted him. Trusted his love. And he’d broken that trust –broken her– in just a few simple words.

Could he forgive that? Grace said that she had, but she still had moments of mistrust. Doubt. Courtney was right; she needed time. He shouldn’t expect all that hurt to just dissolve. And Courtney was also right that Grace would know if he didn’t forgive himself for making her need that extra time. For making her hurt.

He sighed, but it wasn’t the same tortured sighs of before. It was resignation. He had no other choice, it seemed. Grace wanted him to forgive himself, and if Nee was right, she *needed* him to do it. They both did, because if he couldn’t let it go, neither of them would heal.
Personally, Bruce could care less if he healed. But Grace? She was all he cared about, all he ever would. “I love her so much, Nee,” he said last. It was the most obvious, unneeded thing he’d ever said. Courtney knew he loved Grace. But he needed to say it. “I just want her to be happy again.” The way he said it let her know he was willing to try… for Grace, because she needed him to be strong where she couldn’t. Because, in all reality, he needed to be strong for her too.

*-*-*

Seth watched as Courtney ushered Bruce out of the room, leaving no pretense that she knew something wasn’t right and was working on her end to get to the bottom of it. But he never worked that way with Grace. She just wasn’t one that needed prodded. Grace talked, but she did it in her own time. And knowing his wife, he’d have time.

He was dressed in blue jeans, a New York Giants sweatshirt, and tennis shoes. Plopping on the chair that Bruce had just vacated, he winked at her, patting the space beside him. When she sat down, he laughed. “I walked in here and saw you and Bruce sitting in this chair, and it struck me… this is a cuddle chair.”

She laughed lightly. “It calls to you from across the Manor. ‘Sit in me… cuddle in me’.” They simultaneously tried to cross their legs and laughed when their feet kicked one another. “You first,” she said, draping her leg over his and relaxing. “See, the chair finds a way.”

He mimicked her tone. “Sit in me…”

As she was smiling, she looked at him. “I’m getting rid of the apartment. I got up the nerve… hung my head… and told Bruce I didn’t want to keep it anymore.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “And why did you do that?”

Her gaze turned completely serious. “This is the last place I’m ever going to live, Seth.”

Leaning toward her, he made sure his eyes were on hers. There was no way she could mistake his intensity. “I don’t like the sound of that, Grace. I don’t like the sound of that at all.”

She tried for light. “What? Are you being pessimistic?”

“No, I’m being the man who stopped you…” He sighed.

She nodded, getting his meaning, and her face flushed hot. “I wasn’t thinking clearly, Seth. I was…”

“I know what you were, Gracie.” He reached out and touched her cheek. She had started to cry and obviously didn’t realize it. “And like I told you then… you have so much to give… so much love inside of you. And it’s okay that you gave up the apartment. I always thought keeping the damn thing was a stupid idea anyway. And maybe you didn’t mean it the way it come out, but it’s me you’re talking to.” He held her to him as her head rested on his shoulder.

“I’m p… panicking,” she explained. “Never… I’ve never loved or needed someone so much. He’s my entire world. He’s the man I dreamed of having since I was old enough to realize that women loved men. When I look at him, I know I’m loved. Yet, I know there have been times today when I’ve panicked. I love him, so much. And I *know* he means it… that this time is permanent. Mistakes made and learned from.” She sighed again. “And we had a long talk today. About the break up and why it happened.” It was here that she went into a bit more detail, leaving out some things that she felt Bruce might want to keep private.

Seth’s first thought was ‘Lord help Lex if Courtney ever found out’. His second was how he personally could make sure that Lex Luthor learned his lesson. He had connections no one knew he had. Connections more powerful than anyone, except Courtney, knew about. Connections that had saved her life when the doctors told them nothing else would. But to Grace, he said, “You know, that doesn’t surprise me. He’s a Luthor. Sometimes a man can’t be more than his DNA.”

“Neither can a woman,” she added.

“You are… if two people were ever the exception to the rules, Gracie, it’s you and I.” He brushed her short curls back from her face. “It’s like I told you that night. This world is better because you’re in it… the people whose lives you touch are better because you’re in them. And you’re right, Bruce screwed up, but he figured it out. And there’s no way that he’s going to make the same mistake twice. So let it go.” He couldn’t believe he was saying it. He had been so angry that night. If Grace hadn’t needed constant vigil, he would have gone over to the Manor that night and handed Bruce his balls on a platter. And yet now, now he was telling Grace to believe and to trust.

Bruce wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

No way.

They didn’t say anything more for several long moments, merely sat in that big chair, Seth’s arms holding her. “He’s not going to abandon you. He’s not going to hurt you… not again. He’s not like the people in your past. He learns from his mistakes. And hurting you again is not an option for him.”

“You believe that?”

“Yes, I do,” he said without hesitation.

“So quit with the panicking and enjoy my life?”

He smiled. “Basically.”

She nodded, and as was the way he had with her, all the panic, vulnerability, and concern slipped away. He was right. Seth was always right. So, she let her head continue to rest on his shoulder, their conversation turned more toward neutral topics. Specifically, sports. Seth knew Grace was a fanatic. And she was actually a Jets fan. So conversation about the rivalry got heated but friendly at times. They’d cuss, discuss, and laugh. It was this way that Bruce and Courtney found them. It was the chair. It was definitely the chair.

The first thing that Bruce noticed was the smile on Grace’s face as they joked about sports. He didn’t remember seeing her smile like that all day. Except maybe for a brief moment at breakfast, before the rest of the world had caught up with them. Whatever Seth had said to her, it had brought the smile back to her face and the twinkle to her eyes. Bruce felt a momentary twinge of jealousy. He was supposed to be the one to make her smile. Not Seth.

Someday, he vowed, moving into the room and perching on the arm of the couch. Someday soon.

Grace turned her smile onto Bruce as he sat on the couch. Quickly she disengaged herself from Seth’s side. He, of course, made a play of pushing her out of ‘his’ chair, winking at Bruce as he did so. Moving forward, Grace placed a quick, yet soft kiss, on Bruce’s cheek. Her hand rested at the side of his thigh for a minute before she pulled away and gazed into his eyes for a long, lingering moment. The conversation he and Courtney had must have been intense as well. His look was still a bit ‘haunted’, but time would help them. Pulling away slightly, she said, “I need Courtney for just a moment.”

Courtney, who had been about to sit in the chair, stood up again. “I am at your service,” she said as Grace grabbed her by the elbow, and they stepped just outside the room.

“I need you to do something for me,” she said softly… conspiratorially. And quickly she laid out her plan, knowing that what she wanted done was Courtney’s specialty. When she was finished, she was almost giddy with happiness as she asked, “When can you get it done?”

Courtney’s eyes glimmered. “Give me a week.”

Grace nodded. “Just let me know…”

“I will.” She was about to follow Grace back inside when she saw Alfred coming down the hall. Walking determinedly toward the faithful servant, she stopped when she reached him.

“Mistress Courtney,” he greeted with a small smile.

“Alfred,” she returned, “I have a question for you. How hard would it be for the phones in this place to stop ringing? For the door to go unanswered? For Bruce and Grace to be completely alone…” she paused and looked at her watch, “for the next oh 15 hours or so.”

Alfred looked at the young woman for a long moment. Bruce had responsibilities. He had certain commitments that should not be ignored for anything.

“It’s important… you know? For them.”

He nodded. She was right. “I think it could be arranged, Madam.”
The response earned him a quick hug and the hurricane changed directions, heading for the library again. She found Grace now nestled firmly at Bruce’s side. “So Seth, how about we go home?” she asked upon entering. “Football game’s coming on.”

He looked at her quizzically. Courtney… he loved her, but subtle, she wasn’t. “Sure,” he said, looking to Bruce and Grace. He felt better, seeing the look on Grace’s face had changed. “After all, can’t miss a football game.”

Grace moved from Bruce’s side long enough to give first Courtney a hug, thanking her, and then Seth a hug. His was a bit tighter, and a bit longer. “Enjoy the game,” she said.

Courtney, after getting Grace’s hug, moved to her best friend. She couldn’t begin to say how much she felt for this man. And she had complete faith in him. He’d find a way. Reaching out, she drew him in for a nice, long hug of her own. “Take care of each other,” she said softly.

*-*-*

Shortly after Courtney and Seth left, so did the movers. Bruce had just offered to help Grace start unpacking –he would have been about as much help with that as he had been packing the stuff almost a year and a half ago, but had offered so he could simply be with her– when Alfred interrupted them to remind Bruce of his daily responsibilities.

“You go, Bruce,” Grace told him, looking around her at the messy bedroom. Dizzy was circling her legs, purring happily after having inspected every inch of their adjoining rooms. Nothing had changed drastically, and the cat seemed to be giving them a seal of approval. “I can manage.” She smiled gently and then kissed him to stop his protest. “You’re not going to be any help anyway, and you know it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, affecting a scolded child. He winked and she laughed. “I won’t be long,” he promised before leaving the room.

“If I may be of assistance, Miss Grace?” Alfred arched an inquiring eyebrow at her, and she couldn’t help but smile. He’d helped her unpack the last time, too. Some things never changed, and Alfred was definitely one of them.

*-*-*

Bruce ran. It wasn’t quite the easy jog of the last few days. His speed picked up to keep pace with the thoughts racing through his brain. Most –no, all– of those thoughts had to do with Grace and that morning.

He’d been prepared to try, as Grace had asked, to forgive himself for what he’d done. To let it go and get on with the task of loving her. But talking to Courtney had set him back to wondering how this was going to be possible.

A part of him knew –how could he miss that gleam in Courtney’s eyes?– that Courtney stopped blaming him, if she ever had, the moment he mentioned Lex. But try as he might, Bruce couldn’t bring himself to blame Lex. Not fully. Lex had only voiced what had actually been a concern for Bruce all along. He hadn’t forced Bruce to send Grace away.

He’d done that all on his own.

When he couldn’t outrun that fact, he stopped, and making no attempt at mediation, threw himself into his martial arts routine. He didn’t do this routine everyday, but today it felt good to practice kicks and punches. He attacked his stuffed and padded opponents with a fury he hadn’t had in years… not since he’d gone through that stereotypical angry teenager phase. Only his had been compounded by the memory of losing his parents. He’d been angry for losing them, angry with Alfred for not being them, and angry at the world for having the nerve to go on spinning without them.

This time, he wasn’t angry with anyone but himself. As he fought the training dummies, kicking and punching them as he would an adversary of the Batman, it wasn’t any criminal’s face he saw. Not even the vague memory of the ones who’d killed his parents, a vision which had long haunted his dreams even now that he was adult. It was his own face he saw, himself who he fought with such a vengeance. He lashed out because Grace couldn’t… or wouldn’t. He’d hurt her, wronged her, and left her adrift in a sea of despair he himself knew so well.

It was a dark place that no one deserved to be in, especially not someone as wonderful, as special as Grace. And he’d caused it. He’d sent her there.

A sudden rush of anger surged through his body and Bruce lashed out, throwing a punch so fierce that it separated his dummy’s head from its body. The sudden give where once there was tension sent him tumbling to the floor.

*-*-*

Bruce forewent the chair and the manacles that day. The martial arts on top of his regular routine and the extended run had left him sore and with little patience for unlocking that particular puzzle.

As it was, he’d been training for over three hours and he’d promised Grace he wouldn’t be gone long.

Instead he went back to his room through the secret passages, stripped out of his sweaty clothes, and was just getting ready to step into the shower when he heard a low, appreciative whistle behind him.

“Such a nice, tight butt,” Grace smiled, admiring. “Has anyone told you recently just how sexy you are?” She was leaning against the door jam, not missing the fact that he jumped slightly. She’d noticed the change in his physique. But standing there, there was no way to miss the change that had happened over his entire body. “We finished unpacking,” she explained. “Just brought in the last of what I’m stashing in your closet and heard you in here. Want some company?” she asked, waggling her brows and smiling brightly at him.

Bruce felt her eyes on him even before he turned to look at her. “Sexy? Me?” he joked, pretending not to know what she was talking about. His body was half obscured by the glass door of the shower. Not that she’d missed much of it, he knew by the twinkle of playful desire in her eyes.

Courtney’d once told him, in the beginning of his relationship with Grace, that it made sense for them to be as physical as they had been. Because the relationship was new. She made it sound like that would fade in time, but it hadn’t… not really. Even after months of living together, their bodies had still responded to each other as if each time was the first taste of hidden pleasure. Four months without her had done nothing to change that, save to emphasize the need all the more.

“Showers *are* more fun when you have company,” he commented, a wicked grin appearing on his face in an instant. Her eyes were still on him, traveling over his entire body in a way that stirred his own cravings for her.

Reaching for the hem of her sweatshirt, her eyes didn’t leave his as she pulled the garment over her head. The only period her eyes left his was when she pulled it over her head. She’d decided again not to wear a bra. This morning, she wasn’t certain exactly how long she would be wearing the clothing anyway. Moving with a purpose, she quickly relieved herself of her jeans, panties, socks and shoes.

This morning and everything that went with it seemed a million miles away to her now. The visit from Courtney and Seth had gone a long way for her. Seth had reminded her of some things that she seemed to forget, and Courtney was busy taking care of some business that was a high priority for her.

“Company is good,” she said softly, seductively. “Also conserves water. I could use a shower myself.” Of course, that was a joke.
When they showered together it took twice as long because there was simply something about seeing him wet, having the hot water rush across their bodies. It was exhilarating. Then, of course, there was also the physical attraction that never seemed to ebb between them. “Unpacking made me sweat.” She moved into his space, offering him a smile.

“Well, then, by all means…” he should have stepped back to allow her into the walk-in shower, but instead, he slid his arms around her waist and drew her to him. “We should definitely conserve water.” His voice had dropped an octave in response to the seductive tone in hers. Bending his head, he teased her lips with soft kisses. His hands moved lower on her hips, and he stepped back, guiding them both under the stream of hot water.

Conserving water had very definite advantages.

*-*-*

When she’d lived here before, their routine had been to shower together early in the morning, after working out in the gym. They’d then make love in the shower and a vague attempt at dressing before winding up on the bed for another round of lovemaking.

That’s what had happened today as well. Now, resting comfortably and sated underneath the covers, Grace couldn’t help but smile as she traced light patterns across his chest. Routine… it was funny how one could take things for granted. They were the things that were missed the most when they were taken away. She’d not take anything for granted ever again. She was home, and she was staying. “I’m not kidding, Bruce. These pectorals of yours… perfect definition and tone.” She lifted slightly so she could look at him. Winking, she said, “And I should know. I used to get paid to help people sculpt their bodies.”

She smiled brightly. “And let’s not talk about your deltoids.” She fanned herself. “Oh my.”

Bruce chuckled lightly, loving both the feel of her soft touches and her teasing compliments. He’d missed her, and while the physique she was commenting on was the direct result of the rigorous exercise routine he’d adopted in part to keep his mind off her, he was certainly glad she was here to enjoy it. “That’s a good thing, right?” he asked, teasing.

She leaned down and placed a light, feathering kiss on said muscle. “Oh that’s good.” She then leaned into kiss his pectorals. “Very good.” Continuing the tease, she said, “Now the lower abs,” she paused to let her fingers trace the muscles, “they’re always the hardest to define. Takes some *very* specialized exercises.” She ran her finger up his chest. “I can show you,” she waggled her brows, “how to define them.
Could be fun.”

This was just as healing to her soul as their lovemaking… as his reassurances… as every smile he gave her warmed her heart and touched her soul. Her cheek rested on his chest and she sighed happily, “I need to add some bulk anyway. And properly motivated,” she chuckled, “I could get it done *very* quickly.” She sighed, her finger once again tracing the lines of his body.

“It certainly couldn’t… hurt…” His voice broke a little as her touches moved lower down his abdomen. “…to have a good physical trainer.” His breathing had sped up a little. “I’ve certainly missed working out with you.”

He had. Their morning routine had been his favorite way to awaken in the mornings. Intense exercise and then one, sometimes two rounds of even more intense lovemaking. Slumbering until breakfast, or just holding each other like they were now. He’d missed these moments most of all.

But there other things he’d missed just as much that had little to do with the physical aspects of their relationship. Reading poetry to each other in the solarium or watching the sunset from the second floor balcony. Seeing the way her eyes would light up when he brought her flowers from the garden. Watching her fuss over the tiny drops of blood from the thorn pricks he’d sustain. Those… and so many other things. How he’d lived before he’d met her, he did not know. And he hadn’t lived after letting her go.

His arms around her tightened a little in response to his thoughts, as if they refused to let her go ever again.

Her arms slid across his abdomen, and she cuddled closely to him. Her eyes closed and she knew he would be able to feel the smile that was on her face. She firmly believed that being in his arms was the best place in the world to be. Before they’d met, Courtney had told her he was reserved. It was precisely because of that that she’d hugged him when she met him. She loved touching, cuddling, holding. She soon learned that Bruce’s propensity for being reserved was really limited to those outside his ‘circle’. And given how most everyone perceived him, his ‘circle’ was very small.

He touched Courtney. He would even touch Seth’s shoulder on occasion.
The same went for Alex. Though in truth, Bruce was closer to Alex than
Seth. So he wasn’t necessarily reserved, just cautious. But with her… they held hands. She’d take his arm and rest her head on his shoulder while he read poetry to her. They’d go on picnics and he’d rest his head in her lap while she sang to him.

And just like now, her cheek had moved over his heart so she could hear it beating. She smiled. Poetry. It was the one thing that she actually turned to for comfort in their time apart. She would trudge through line after line and commit poems to memory so she could recall them later. And she thought of him constantly as she did it.

Her voice came out soft at first as one of her newly memorized poems came to mind. A new poet… to her anyway… A poem written almost 180 years ago. But when she’d read it… “How many times do I love thee, dear?” she quoted softly. “Tell me how many thoughts there be in the atmosphere, of a new-fall’n year, whose white and sable hours appear the latest flake of Eternity: So many times do I love thee, dear.”
She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes locked with his. When they did, she forgot the other stanza, so she merely repeated, “So many times do I love thee, dear.” She smiled. “Thomas Lovell Beddoes…” she said, her voice trailing off as she continued to hold his eyes with hers and letting them express all the love she felt for him.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, caught up in the moment. When they’d first met, Bruce had felt strangely compelled to learn something about the woman he was slowly falling madly in love with. Courtney had once accused him of choosing his romances based on the physical. Attraction over substance. In the past, it’d certainly been true enough. He’d had plenty of failed relationships with beautiful people to show for it. But with Grace… something made him want more than just a night or two of mindless, fleeting passion. Their initial relationship, even before their first date, was a delicious flirtation with poetry and personal facts. What he’d learned was that their souls shared a great deal. Music, poetry. When simple words failed them, they would turn to those things, and magic would be the result.

Slowly, he shifted, rolling over onto his side so that Grace’s back was to the mattress. Propping himself up on one arm he looked down at her thoughtfully. He hadn’t broken eye contact, nor would he. Her eyes conveyed too much, and what he saw now, he hoped he’d never stop seeing. “Have you come across this one yet? ‘Her kisses are,’” here he touched her lips with his fingertips, rubbing her lower lip until it reddened. “‘soft as a snow-tuft in the dewless cup’“ His touches slowed, softly teasing. “‘Of a redoubled rose, noiselessly falling…’“ He leaned in now, eyes holding hers even as he came closer. “‘When heaven is brimful of starry night.’” And then their lips met, and his hand moved to her cheek, caressing as it held her to allow him more control over the kiss. “Thomas Lovell Beddoes…” he breathed, pulling away from the kiss only briefly and then he pressed his lips to hers again in another slow, soft kiss.

When he pulled away from the kiss, her eyes found his. No matter how hard the day had begun, it was now on a high note. They’d had a quiet afternoon, safe in one another’s arms. She found that this was what she needed. Having Seth and Courtney worry over them was nice, but in the end, what helped her most was having Bruce with her. Having her life back on the right track. Their hearts and souls joined in something that was familiar to them. Poetry… it was their failsafe.
This moment, more than any words, more than the sex, settled things for her.

Her smile widened. “Read it,” she finally said softly, but only speaking when she trusted her voice. “But it didn’t mean anything to me until just now.” His hand was softly caressing her cheek, and hers reached up to take it. She gazed upon him with all the love and happiness she was feeling at the moment. “Bruce,” she swallowed hard and brought her hand into his hair, massaging his scalp, slowly bringing him in for another kiss. It was slow, meaningful, and passionate. When she let him pull away, her eyes fairly shined. “It touches my heart…” she said, referring to the poem, “you touch my heart… my very soul.”

The look in her eyes –happier than he’d seen her in days– made his heart leap into his throat. “Grace… ” he whispered softly, unable to say more as he looked at her. But his eyes held hers and what he was feeling couldn’t be denied.

*-*-*

They were late for dinner, having made love yet again in soft slow motion and then fell asleep in each other’s arms. Alfred roused Bruce only to let him know that dinner would be in one of the smaller, more private rooms rather than in the main dining hall, and retreated from the room.

Bruce, in turn, let Grace awake to soft kisses and his fingers brushing her hair away from her face. Then, they both dressed, and Bruce slid an arm around her as they walked down the hall and to the stairs.

The dining room in question was, in reality, a little nook off one of the main rooms. It was dimly lit with candles, and one table was set for two. Soft sounds of classical music played in the background, so low it was almost part of the room itself. Bruce looked at the woman next to him and smiled. Her eyes were shining, and the candlelight cast a soft glow about her skin. He’d never seen anything that beautiful before, and knew he wasn’t like to again.

Leading her to the table, he pulled out the chair for her, pausing to kiss her before sitting in the chair next to her. The cozier atmosphere was different… intimate. It made Bruce feel like the whole world was reduced to just them.

Once he sat beside her, she reached out and lightly rested her hand on his arm. She wasn’t surprised to see that the table had been set so they were sitting next to one another. They could touch and still look into one another’s eyes. It was a place where she could very happily get lost. To be honest, she already was. The beauty of the room had taken her aback when they first entered. She’d lived in this house for well over a year and never knew this room existed. But this house was like that. Like the man sitting beside her, she found new things to love about it every day.

She honestly wouldn’t have come out of their bed if it hadn’t been necessary. She was hungry. They hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast this morning and that had been fairly ruined. But this morning had been an age ago. “I used to think,” she gazed into his eyes, “Let me rephrase this… When I was a little girl, I dreamed of what I wanted to be… the man I wanted to be with.” Her eyes didn’t falter from his, and she let them say everything her words couldn’t. “When I met you, I knew you were that man I dreamed of. A man who shared my interests, who loved me even though he knew my faults, who looked at me and with just his eyes could cause me to tremble all over.”

Her hand stopped moving on his and rested lightly on his forearm. “I’m happy, Bruce. Happier than I can tell you.” She hoped, prayed he was happy too.

“Grace…” he began, only to be interrupted by Alfred, pushing a small cart with a chilled bottle of champagne.

“I thought, perhaps,” the butler said after a small apology for the obvious interruption, “that something more celebratory was in order for this evening.” Bruce smiled, thanking him as he poured out the first two glasses and then disappeared silently.

When they were alone again, Bruce placed his hand over hers. “I’ve never known anyone who completed me the way you do, Grace. Not–” Not even Lex, he thought but did not say as much. “Not ever… in all my life… have I felt this closely connected to anyone.” She made him feel like a whole human being. A complete soul, and not the shell he’d been for most of his life. It was an amazing thing.

Giving her hand a squeeze, he said, “You make me… more than happy… there haven’t been words invented to describe how you make me feel.”

Reaching up, she ran a finger along his eyebrows, tracing his beautiful eyes. “You don’t need words.” She offered him a smile. “Your eyes… they tell me everything I need to know.” She fairly glowed and it wasn’t because of the candlelight. “I think the eyes are the most expressive part of a person. They aren’t just the window to the soul… they’re the key to what a person’s thinking. When we were little, Hope and I, Dad used to be able to tell we were lying just by looking in our eyes. He could tell if we were happy… or just pretending to be. He could tell when we needed to talk, but acted like everything was fine. I asked him once how he knew, and that’s what he told me. Everything is in the eyes. So I started watching. But it wasn’t until I saw your eyes… that first night at the club when we were sitting in the booth. I looked into your eyes and I saw myself reflected in them. It took my breath away. From then on, I was hopelessly… and very happily… lost in you.”

She smiled again as her hand rested on his cheek. It seemed ‘chatty’
Grace had once again taken over. All in all, that was a good sign, she thought.

“As I have been lost in you,” Bruce replied, meaning it. That night had changed his life profoundly. He smiled and turned his head slightly, kissing the palm of her hand. “Your father is a wise man,” he said respectfully. Her mention of George reminded him that he had a duty to perform in the man’s absence, and he knew Grace wouldn’t much like it. After dinner, he told himself, as right now, he just wanted to enjoy being with her in this intimate setting.

He reached for his champagne glass and paused, nodding for her to join him in a toast. “Here’s to getting lost –together,” he toasted.

She raised her glass and touched it to his. “To getting lost,” she said. Her eyes soft and showing nothing but love as she added, “And to being found again.” She sipped at the bubbly laughing lightly as it tickled her nose. She set her glass down and turned to the plates sitting in front of them. Another one of her favorite dishes. Roast.

Of course, she knew it was a specially prepared roast, probably a brisket. The smell wafted up to her and she smiled. “I knew Alfred was intent upon making sure I gained weight, and if he keeps this up…
I’m definitely going to.”

Picking up her fork, she used it to pick up a baby carrot. “Of course, all that physical exercise has left me pretty hungry.” She winked at him.

“If that’s what it takes to keep you eating like you should…” Bruce quipped with a chuckle. He let the rest of the thought trail off, although the joking implication was clear. His heart felt lighter now than it had all day. Grace was happy, and looking into her eyes, he knew it was more stable and less fleeting happiness than before.

*-*-*

After dinner, they moved to the other side of the candlelit room, where a cozy fire had been lit in the fireplace. Sitting in the chair opposite the flames, Bruce drew her down into his arms and held her. They did and said nothing for several minutes, merely allowing themselves the pleasure of communing without words.

As the fire slowly died into a warm, smoldering bed of embers, Bruce turned so he could look at her more fully. Her bruise was fading more. By tomorrow, maybe the next day, no one would know that she had been attacked; save for the confession her attacker had left with the police.

“Bruce?” she asked him suddenly, and he became aware that he’d been tracing the bruise on her forehead. He hadn’t realized he’d been doing it. “I’m okay, Bruce. You know that, right?” she told him, continuing to study him closely.

He nodded, but was remembering his promise to George. “I was just thinking,” he began, also remembering what both George and Courtney had said about her disliking the police. “The newspaper said that the man who attacked you confessed last night. Told the police how he’d been watching your building… watching you, in particular.” Which had meant he was more than just a common mugger. It had been planned, most likely because he knew who she was. “You are going to press charges, right?” At the question, he felt a hitch in her breath and her body tensed a little. Instinctively, his hand went to the small of her back, rubbing in comforting circles, trying to let her know it was okay and no matter what, she was safe in his arms.

The first thing she did was try to rationalize everything. It was a common defense mechanism for her. If it was something she didn’t want to do, she always tried to find a logical reason for getting out of it.
So first she said, “He confessed. You said he confessed. The DA will do all the pressing of the charges, won’t he? Why would I have to go down to the…” She paused, knowing that even though Bill had confessed, she’d still had to press charges against him. She clearly remembered the way everyone had looked at her when she went down there. Most had been sympathetic, but there had been some… She couldn’t help but shiver.

Her arms wrapped more tightly around him. “Can’t it just go away? Go away on its own and leave us alone?” She wasn’t stupid either. “The second I go down there… the press… and the hounding… and the police… they ask all kinds of questions. Personal questions. Normally, I don’t care, but this…” She buried her head in his neck, drawing comfort from the fact that the more she rationalized and the more the rationalizations turned into scared excuses, the tighter he held her.

Her reasons, weak though they were, touched a place that had remained hidden in Bruce Wayne for many years. He remembered watching his parents die, and then peering out the back of the police cruiser to watch the legitimate press and the paparazzi follow them to the station. He remembered two armed police officers ushering him from the cruiser, up the stairs and into the building –lights flashing and people calling out his name the whole way. While he waited for Alfred in the police commissioner’s office, legs swinging off the edge of the leather sofa, he slowly turned inward to try and tune it all out. By the time the faithful butler arrived, he was lost inside himself.

But he remembered the questions that came in the weeks and months to follow. He remembered how much he hated the people doing the asking. It pained him to be put in this position –having to ask Grace to go through it now. His arms tightened around her, and he could feel how her heart fluttered in her chest. She was truly scared, as if even the answer she suspected was coming from him would hurt her.

He knew he should push it, yet he also could not bring himself to purposely hurt Grace by forcing her to do something she did not want to do. He’d done that once already, to disastrous ends. “Grace…” he said softly, and his compliance sounded clear in his voice. Cuddling her closer to him, he caved completely. “Whatever you want, love.”

As soon as he said the words however, he felt two things very strongly: her instant relief and a twinge of guilt at knowing he’d failed her father. Maybe, however, now was not the time. She might come around. He hoped.

She did relax completely against him. Just knowing that she didn’t have to go down there… that she didn’t have to do that… If she were being honest, she hadn’t thought about it, not once. She hadn’t given a second thought to that night… to that man. In all honesty, she hadn’t even given thought to the man who’d not only saved her from the mugger, but also had indirectly given her back this life. Lifting up slightly, she smiled up at him. “Thank you.” The relief in her eyes was palpable. “How about this? I promise I’ll think about it. I still have time, don’t I?”

“Some,” Bruce admitted, thankful for the offer to think about it. “But not very much.” Silently, he prayed she wouldn’t think too long. He snuggled in closer to her, happy to go back to comforting silence.

*-*-*

Continue in Chapter Six