Preordained Chapter 7

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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 Seven

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

They’d been eating breakfast secluded in his bedroom for the last few days, but today Bruce dragged her to the private nook they’d eaten dinner in the night before. Now it was bathed in sunshine, warm and bright despite the chilly weather outside.

They ate side by side, Bruce feeding Grace cantaloupe wedges from his fruit bowl and letting her lick his fingers with each bite. It might have led to something else had his cell phone not rang just as he was learning towards her, his eyes fixed on her soft, tempting lips.

Seeing the name that came up on the display, he turned to Grace, mouthing ‘it’s Lee; I have to take this’ and then stood, walking to the other side of the room. In hushed tones, he inquired about the favor he’d asked of Lee the day before.

“Oh, they’ll do it, Bruce. The cop who handled his case has been itching to get this guy. Says he’s ‘too smug’ to be innocent.”

That’s because he wasn’t. Bruce’s jaw tightened a little at the description. ”When can someone come?” he asked.

“Again… anytime. Today, if you’d like.” Bruce looked back, watching as Grace spread cream cheese on a bagel and brought it to her mouth. All he wanted now was to close this chapter in their lives. Let the heartache pass. But that couldn’t happen until he finished what had been started the night he stopped her attack. The sooner she pressed charges, the better.

“Then, call them, Lee,” he said, “I want it done as soon as possible.” He paused, watching her some more. He worried that the police presence would shake her already fragile confidence. It would help if someone familiar were there as a buffer. Bruce could think of one person on the Gotham police force who fit that bill. “One more, thing, Lee…”

When he came back to the table, she set her bagel down and picked up her coffee. Taking a sip of the warm liquid, there was a glint in her eye as she teased, “Do you need to keep that thing handy today? After yesterday’s barrage…” She set her cup down and looked at him for a long moment.

She had crossed her legs when she sat back in her chair to drink her coffee, but uncrossed them and leaned forward so that her eyes held his. ”Everything ok? He didn’t have bad news for you, did he?”

“Everything’s great,” he answered, placing a hand overtop one of hers. “Lee and I just had some business discuss. And…” he paused, hoping she hadn’t changed her mind between last night and today. ”He’s going to be letting the police know that you’re ready to talk about that night.” He gave her hand a supportive squeeze.

She swallowed hard and merely nodded at first. Her hand turned so that it could hold his. He hadn’t actually said whether or not they were coming to her or if she had to go to them. She’d hoped it would be the former. Pressing charges and giving a statement was actually what she had to do. Bruce and Alfred were right; the one best way to thank her savior was to make sure the man was incarcerated.

But…

She really didn’t want to deal with the media circus. She could just hear the story now… ‘Supermodel Grace O’Neil Attacked Once Again’. They’d eat it up… dredge up the entire Bill situation, compare, analyze, and ask questions. Talk to AnnaBeth… who didn’t mind telling everyone the full extent of the story. She gave his hand a small squeeze and asked, “Do I… Do we have to go to the station or will they come here?”

“They’re willing to come here.” Bruce let his fingers entwine with hers, then raised their hands to his lips. He kissed her fingertips softly. The truth was, if they’d been so willing, Bruce would have gone to them himself, sans Lee’s intervention. He hated using his name, or the power it wielded, but for Grace, he would do anything.

Letting go of her fingers, he smoothed her cheek gently. “I also asked Lee to give the standard no-comments to the press if they ask. It’s your story to tell, and as far I’m concerned, those vultures don’t deserve to hear it.”

She nodded rather quickly, though she drew strength from his physical touch and the love that was in his eyes. ”They don’t deserve to hear about it. And Alex will tell them the same thing Lee will. It’s not so much our press secretaries I’m worried about. I do have a couple
friends who tend to talk. Not that they mean anything by it, they
just do.”

She paused, her hand squeezing his again as she leaned toward him.
She never wanted him to use his ‘influence’ for her. It was just like
she believed last night. To her, he wasn’t a name. But… She had
to admit that it was his ‘influence’ that was bringing the police to
her instead of the other way around. Reaching out, she lightly ran
her hand through his hair. ”Thank you for this. I know…” She
swallowed hard, not exactly sure how to say it. So instead, she
said, “Thank you.”

*-*-*

It was close to noon when Alfred came into the library to inform them that the police had arrived. Bruce was seated at an antique desk in the corner, working on a proposal for his next meeting at City Hall and Grace was in the over-stuffed leather chair, wrapped in a blanket Bruce had fetched when she claimed the castle to be chilly today. She was right, of course, it was; Bruce had just grown used to it. The blanket was single-sided, cream colored mink. Soft, decadent, and it looked like it was hugging her as she snuggled into it. A dog-eared copy of ‘The Haunting of Hill House’ captivated her attention.

It was on this that Alfred entered followed by two officers –one a plain clothes detective, the other uniformed.

Grace didn’t even have to wait for the introductions to at least know who the uniformed officer was. Her face, which had been tense when she’d first heard footsteps, relaxed immediately upon seeing him. Chad. Standing, she set both the blanket and her book aside, moving forward to meet the officers.

“Master Bruce, Miss Grace,” Alfred said, “this is Detective Walker Vincent and Officer Chad Harris.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Grace said, first shaking the detective’s hand and thanking him for coming before moving to Chad. ”I should have known you’d be the one to show up.”

“Well, they wouldn’t let me guard your assailant’s door,” Chad offered, referring to the man who’d attacked her, “so they ‘suggested’ that I come here.” A smile was on his face but at the thought of the man who’d tried to physically hurt her, a hard edge came to his eyes. He held her hand for a moment longer, offering her a supportive rub on her upper arm. He finally took his eyes off of Grace and extended his hand to Bruce. “It’s good to meet you, sir,” he said, “though the circumstances could have been better.”

Bruce didn’t hesitate to take Chad’s hand. He’d had always been told that you could tell a lot about a man by the way he shook your hand. It was one of the things they taught you when going into business or politics. For a man like Bruce Wayne –with a foot in both those camps– it was an important skill to master. Chad’s grip was firm and confident.

He nodded, returning the respectfully wary look the other man gave him. “Indeed,” he agreed. ”The situation is…” Here he looked at Grace thoughtfully. Her bruise was lighter today. ”Less than ideal.”

Bruce then shook hands with Detective Vincent in turn. “Detective Vincent. Welcome to my home.” The greeting was meant for both of them.

“Ms. O’Neil,” the detective began.

“Grace, oh please, call me Grace,” she motioned for them to sit on the couch and then took one of the chairs next to it. She waited for Bruce to sit beside her.

“Grace,” the detective tried again.

The leather on Chad’s belt creaked and because of the gun and nightstick he carried, he wasn’t actually able to sit back on the couch. Instead, he sat on the edge, leaning forward… offering himself as a barrier between the detective and Grace should she need it. Their relationship may have been in the past, but he still cared for her deeply and always would. ”We’re just going to ask a few questions… maybe see if you can recall some things you may have forgotten.”

She nodded and her hand extended, immediately reaching for Bruce’s. ”I just really don’t like this part,” she said softly.

“That’s understandable,” the detective interjected, taking out his notebook and a pocket tape recorder. ”But the more you can tell us, the more it will help.”

“I thought…” here she paused and inhaled deeply, “I thought he confessed.”

Chad exchanged looks with the detective who nodded for him to tell her. “He did. But in his confession, he talked about more than just the attack. Gracie, he says he’d been watching you for months.”

“Stalking you,” Detective Vincent bluntly added.

Chad *and* Bruce gave the detective a stern look as Grace’s eyes filled with fear and she instinctively squeezed Bruce’s hand. ”Nnnn…. No. That… that can’t be. Ok. That just doesn’t happen. Not to me!”

Chad’s voice went soft and he drew Grace’s attention to him. He knew how she dealt with things she didn’t want to hear or face. And with the man who was in custody, he couldn’t afford to just let her pretend it wasn’t happening. ”We searched his apartment. He had a wall plastered with pictures of you and not just the ones from magazines or ads. But ones he took himself. It seems that he attacked you on impulse when you went out Thursday night.”

“And if we aren’t careful, and if his lawyer is smart enough… he could plead guilty but try for temporary insanity. He’s claiming that ‘yes’ he did it, but that he was overcome and doesn’t remember anything until he woke up in the hospital.”

Grace knew exactly what all this meant. ”I’m going to have to go to court, aren’t I?”

“Not if we can help it,” Detective Vincent reassured her. “We’re going to do everything we can to make sure that doesn’t happen. But we need details. Just start from the beginning.”

“Of what?” she asked, confused.

“You left your apartment and got in your vehicle, right?” When she nodded, Chad continued, “Then what did you do?”

She shrugged. ”I sat there. I couldn’t decide where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do so I sat there. Then I got out and walked back to the building, but couldn’t see to put the key in the door.” Her eyes went a bit vacant as she recalled what happened. ”The next thing I knew I was grabbed from behind.” She focused back on the officers.
“He was stalking me?”

Bruce’s first thought at the news that it had months was that he should have given into the brief temptation he’d had to kill the man in his hospital bed. Though, that would have made him no better than the slime himself. His second reaction was guilt that for all the nights he’d watched Grace’s apartment, he hadn’t noticed this man lurking in some other set of shadows. The reaction he *acted upon* however, was the instinct to comfort Grace, and his hand slid protectively behind her as he sat beside her. She turned to him briefly and their eyes met. His were shining with love for her and pride because, although she was frightened, she was doing it.

“It’s okay, love,” he told her softly, as if they were suddenly the only two in the room. ”The operative word is ‘was’.” The tone in his voice left no doubt what he was thinking. That if the man went free, he wouldn’t have time to pick up where he’d left off.

Then he turned his attention back to the police.

“Ms… Grace,” the detective continued. ”Is there anything else you remember about that night?”

Grace nodded, and repeated the story she’d told to both Bruce and Alfred… about the caped figure whom stopped the attack and called Bruce to her side.

The detective turned off his tape recorder and sighed audibly. ”Ms. O’Neil,” he started, uncomfortable now with calling her by her given name. ”You do know this Batman figure is a myth… more than likely a figure propagated by the media.”

“No he’s not,” she said firmly. ”And don’t look at me like that. I wasn’t seeing things. I know what I did see. And I saw a cape… possibly a mask.”

And this is what Chad had feared. He knew about Grace seeing the cape because Naomi had told him that Grace mentioned it when she surrendered her apartment. He turned a harsh gaze to the detective before turning a much softer one to Grace. ”I believe you,” he said offering her a
smile.

Surprised eyes were turned to him. ”You do?” she asked, flabbergasted that someone other than Courtney would come out and say he believed.

“I do. You know I work the night shift, and well, we’ve picked up a lot more perps in the past few months than we have the entire time I’ve been on the force. And I’ve heard the ‘man in a cape’ story directly from them. So yes, I believe it’s true.”

“Be that as it may,” the detective interrupted, “if this goes to court and she starts talking about ‘a man in a cape’ or if she just comes out and says ‘Batman saved me’… what will that do to her credibility?”

“But he did,” she insisted. ”If he hadn’t been there…” She let the rest trail off. ”I can’t say I didn’t see what I saw, Detective. I can’t.”

“How,” Bruce began, pushing himself off the chair to stand. He walked around to the other side of the chairs to the mini bar –which, ironically was at the detective’s arm– and began to pour a glass of water. He was taller than the detective, and thanks to his strict training regiment, more muscular than both the officers. But it wasn’t Chad he was looking at when he finished the question, ”will anything she says about this… Batman… damage Grace’s credibility when her attacker claims to have seen him as well?” Bruce had read the official newspaper account yesterday. Grace’s stalker had also told the police, and then the media, about his encounter with the ‘mythical’ caped man. “Seems to me their stories corroborate each other there. Seems to me I
could find plenty of lawyers who’d argue that if the victim and the perpetrator of a crime have matching stories, then it’s likely the truth. Unless, of course, you’re claiming that one of them is lying.” He let the implication that the detective should know better than to
question Grace in this house slide off his voice and into the air.

Grace’s eyes were on Bruce so she didn’t see Chad look up at the younger man. She also didn’t see him smile in approval. It was true that he’d hoped to be able to win her back and that a part of him would always have deep emotions for her. But it was extremely obvious that Bruce loved her. Loved her more deeply than even Chad could. And he could take care of her in ways that Chad couldn’t.

The detective set his eyes on Bruce Wayne and although the young man was over ten years his junior, he knew when he’d crossed a line. And crossing one of *this* man’s lines was something that simply wasn’t done. To Grace, he said, “I do apologize. I’m extremely concerned about this temporary insanity plea,” he went on. ”I want to make sure there are no loopholes he can slip through.”

Chad reached out and lightly took Grace’s hand. ”Gracie, we have a photo of this man we want you to look at. See if you’ve seen him around anywhere, noticed him following you… maybe you ran into him a couple of times and didn’t make a connection. Like I said, he’s claiming he was following you for months.”

“I…” she looked up at Bruce, almost apologetically, “I haven’t gone out much the past few months, Chad, you know that.”

He nodded. ”I do. But he would know when you did. Please,” with his free hand he reached for the picture. Once Vincent handed it to him, he slowly handed it to her. “Just look at it.”

Her response was immediate. The hand that Chad had been holding was almost ripped from his grasp as she brought it to her mouth and cried out softly, “Oh my God!”

That got the attention of both Bruce and Walker Vincent, though for very different reasons. Bruce was beside her in a flash, sitting beside her and wrapping an arm securely around her shoulders. ”What is it?” he asked, concerned.

“I… I…” She looked up at Bruce, completely and totally shocked and more than a little afraid. ”Two years ago… when I… when I was working… at the gym.”

Chad stood and looked around, finding a box of tissues on the desk he grabbed a couple and brought them to her, then knelt on the other side of her.

Detective Vincent once again was taking notes and had turned on the recorder.

“He took a couple of my… my classes. I just thought… lots of people took more than one of my classes.” She looked at Chad.

He nodded toward the detective. ”They did. Took more than one myself,” he said with a small smile. ”But there’s more, isn’t there?”

Wiping her eyes with the tissue, she nodded. ”When Hope… Hope was here over Christ… Christmas,” she inhaled deeply. ”We went shopping to get Dad a… a present. And he… he came up to me…”

“He talked to you,” the detective was extremely interested now. ”What did he say?”

“I don’t… remember really. Small talk mostly.”

“Your sister was with you?”

She nodded.

“She’s attending grad school, Walker. I’ll give you her location later. Ok?” This came from Chad, who wanted to take as much off
Grace’s shoulders as he could.

She closed her eyes and rested her head on Bruce’s shoulder. Right now, all she wanted to do was crawl onto his lap and let him cocoon her. But as that couldn’t happen right now, she drew as much strength from him as she could. ”Then after Christmas… I was with Naomi and Allen. I just thought it was a coincidence. I run into former students all the time.”

“A logical assumption,” Bruce said softly, reassuring her that in no way was this her fault. ”I’d have thought the same.” He had, actually. In college, a young woman had taken all of his classes with him –since freshman year. He’d thought nothing of it at the time, chalking it up to them having the same major. It wasn’t until she approached him after graduation and admitted that she’d been ‘fascinated by him’ and had gone to the trouble every year to change her schedule to match his that he realized what was going on with her. She wasn’t even in his major, and now had to take an extra two years just to graduate. Bruce had been shocked and partially amused. He’d told her he was sorry, he’d always thought she was nice, and maybe she should have said something sooner. Then he’d offered to pay for her last two years, so she could finish her true major and graduate. His lover at the time had laughed his ass off when he’d recounted the tale. But that had been a harmless, if expensive (on her part), obsession.

This was different; it wasn’t harmless. And it begged a question: How could the man claim temporary insanity if he’d been stalking her for months?

Grace shook her head. ”You’d think I would have known somehow.” She sounded guilty for not having recognized the threat.

“But you couldn’t have, Gracie,” Chad said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. ”And it’s all right if you didn’t. Sometimes there’s no way to tell the good guys from the bad ones.”

“It’s not all black hats and tin stars anymore,” Bruce added thoughtfully, but he was thankful for Chad’s presence. Grace needed all the reaffirming she could get. “He’s right, though, love. There was no way you could have known what this guy was up to. You shouldn’t blame yourself for that.”

She wiped at her nose with the tissue. ”I honestly just don’t understand. Why would anyone be obsessed with me?”

“It’s a sad state of affairs today, Ms. O’Neil. But being in the public eye like you are… It draws people in. I’ve little doubt that you have thousands of fans; it’s just that this one crossed the line. He went from fan to obsessed fan and was apparently content to watch you until he saw you Thursday night and something must have set him off. You were alone… perhaps the vulnerability set him off.”

Chad rubbed her arm. ”The temporary insanity thing isn’t going to stick. Not with all the pictures and everything we found in his apartment, and certainly not with the confession.” He looked back at the detective. ”We’ll talk to Naomi and Allen and get in touch with her sister. Get statements from them. That should help with the premeditation aspect of the case. If he was making contact, we can prove he was planning.”

Grace smiled softly. She knew Chad had been offered promotions, but had turned them down because he felt he could do more good by ‘walking the beat’. Still, she believed he should have been a detective. He was a hell of a lot better than the one sitting across from them. “What else do you need to know?” she asked, lifting her head from Bruce’s shoulder, gaining courage from the two men’s comfort and support.

“When he grabbed you, did you notice or feel any kind of a weapon?”
Detective Vincent asked.

“It may mean a difference in what charges are pressed, Gracie.”

She shook her head. ”I didn’t notice anything. He grabbed me and I managed to scream before his hand clamped on my mouth.” She looked at
Chad. ”I freaked and fought him. I completely forgot all those self defense things you taught me,” she admitted to Chad. ”Forgot the stepping on the foot… the vulnerable thumb hold… using my head to bust his nose…”

Chad chuckled. ”You hated that one.” Looking to Bruce, he explained, “She didn’t like the thought of getting blood in her hair.” Back to Grace, he said, “Go on.”

“The next thing I knew, Batman,” and here she looked pointedly at
Vincent, “shows up and the man tossed me to the pavement where I hit my head and passed out. But I’m sorry, I don’t remember a weapon.”

“We’ll probably only get assault then,” the detective announced. ”But
Ms. O’Neil, I’m sure the DA will prosecute to the fullest extent of the law.” He pulled out some papers. ”I just need to fill out this report and have you sign in all the right places and then the DA can take it from there, okay?”

Chad teased. ”I don’t think she’ll have a problem with giving you an autograph, Walker.”

Grace looked from Chad to Bruce. Her eyes rested on Bruce, and she smiled softly. “An autograph as a ‘thank you’. I can do that.” She sighed, “I just can’t get over the stalking bit. All those times I went out… I wasn’t safe. He could have grabbed me at any time. What if there are others like him out there?”

Bruce wanted to tell her that there weren’t, but in truth, he couldn’t ensure that. One thing he did know, however, was they’d have a harder time getting to her now. The Manor was much safer than her old apartment building. “If there are, perhaps this one’s Fate will be a deterrent?” he suggested. But he worried as he said it that she would try to seclude herself here at the Manor much as she had done in her apartment. Here, the seclusion might be worse, as there were few reasons here to leave the grounds. Groceries here were brought by delivery, and the servants did laundry and the cleaning. Bruce didn’t want Grace to isolate herself out of fear.

*-*-*

After the police left and they were finally alone again, Bruce took Grace’s hand and led her back to the over-stuffed leather chair –the ‘cuddle chair’ as Courtney and Seth were now calling it. Sitting, he pulled her down with him, and then covered them both in the soft mink blanket. For a while, they said nothing and just sat there holding
one another close.

“Do you really think no one else will try to…?” she began after a fashion. She didn’t complete the sentence, but Bruce knew. She sounded afraid.

“I honestly don’t know, but Grace, love, I do know for certain that they’ll have a harder time attempting it now. Between security here at the Manor… and your new friend Batman…” He forced his voice to be lighter and more joking. “Why would they want to try?”

“Why did he want to try?” she countered, still sounding scared. “But, you’re right,” she said, and his fears started to alleviate. “I’m safe… here.”

Bruce frowned; this wasn’t what he wanted to hear her say. Yes, she was safe here at the Manor, but she was also safe anywhere because her stalker was in prison. “Grace, sweetheart… have I ever told you about… what it was like after my parents died?”

Grace shook her head uncertainly. Bruce confided in her, yes, but it was always a few things here and there, usually accompanied by bittersweet angst.

“When they first died, I had a hard time sleeping at night.” This, Grace knew. He still did, sometimes although he’d always claimed her presence in his bed kept the bad dreams at bay. “Sometimes, the nightmares would be too real and the fear of them would spill over into the daylight hours. I was afraid to go school, afraid to leave my bedroom… because they” the muggers who killed his parents “might still come after me.” In truth, he used hide under his blankets until Alfred came and threw the blankets aside, forcing him out of the room. “One day, Alfred told me he wasn’t going to let me hide anymore. ‘You
must face your fears head on, Master Bruce’ he said.” Here Bruce gave an imitation of Alfred’s voice. “Then he told me that I was going back to school the next day.” Bruce remembered fighting it, throwing a huge temper tantrum, which Alfred ignored. But in the end, Alfred had been right: he couldn’t spend the rest of his life hiding. Neither could Grace. “Grace… if he’d humored me, I might still be hiding under my bed.” The last was meant jokingly, but he hoped she’d hear the meaning behind his smile: don’t let this attack force you into hiding. Don’t let it beat you down now, when you have so much to live for.

“I isolate myself,” came her soft reply after a long few moments. “Anytime I feel unsafe or insecure, I isolate myself… only letting a very precious few people in.” She paused, her eyes screwed tightly shut as her head rested against his chest. ”When we were young, my mom…” She inhaled deeply and snuggled as close to him as she could
get. ”My mom abandoned us. One day, she kissed me before I left for school, told me she loved me, and that night, she didn’t come home. No explanations… nothing. Just a note. ‘I can’t live this life anymore, George. Take care of our girls’.” She recited the words… the memory of them tearing at her heart.

“You know as well as I do… even more than I do… Moms don’t leave. They don’t just send their kids to school and then run away. They don’t love you one minute and stop the next. Mine did.” She cried softly. “Moms… they’re always supposed to be there… they’re always supposed to love you. It’s the one thing you should be able to depend upon, no matter what. But mine just stopped. Stopped loving us and ran away.” She sighed heavily. It was as if once she started talking about it, she couldn’t stop. ”Hope, she was always Daddy’s girl. They share a deep bond. But mine was with Mom. And I tried to reconcile things… come to terms… years of therapy and I finally stopped blaming myself. But I never got back the same sense of security I felt before she left. I hate her and love her at the same time. There have been times when, even now, I still wish she were here. I want to tell her about my life and know what’s going on in hers. I want to introduce people to MY mom.” This was new territory for her. She always kept these emotions… these thoughts… deeply hidden. But something told her that Bruce, above all others, would understand. ”I love Janet. I wasn’t always the best to her. But she hung in there, and I know she loves me. But there are times… I want my real mom back. The security… my mom.”

She paused. ”And yes, I’m scared… terrified right now that one stalker equals a hundred.” She turned sad eyes toward him, but as she looked at him, she felt nothing but love for him and from him. ”But I know… more than Batman… more than anyone… *YOU* are my security and my safety. I KNOW that.”

“Grace…” Bruce whispered. Instinct made him hold her tighter. He was touched beyond words that she thought of him… Bruce Wayne and not the one he was becoming… as her security. He wanted to be that for her always. But he was also moved by her words about her parents. It was something about her he’d never known. Yes, he knew Janet wasn’t her real mother, but he’d never known the story behind it. Nor could he believe that anyone would purposefully leave a family as loving as theirs. They were close; although Bruce now understood that the closeness was born of a loss so great it had colored their entire lives. And Grace was right; he knew that parents were supposed to be there for you. And he, more than anyone, knew how it hurt when they weren’t there.

It was different when your parents died, though. They couldn’t come back. Grace’s mother had chosen to leave. She’d chosen not to come back. The very thought of it made his arms tighten a little more around her, and his whole body screamed out for wanting to let her know he’d never leave her like that. Not again. Ever.

“Where ever she is, she must be suffering,” he said as the thoughts tumbled from his brain. “Because no one could know you, be touched by the spirit of who you are, and live happily without you.” He paused, and then added in the softest whisper, “I know, because living without you all but killed me.”

She adjusted herself so her head was now resting comfortably in his neck. Her arms moved from where they’d been hugging herself so that she could hug him. ”Bruce,” she started, a little choked up and more touched by his words than she could express. Their time apart had been hell on Earth for her. But it had been worse for him, and she knew that. Worse because he was the one who had done the pushing and worse because he had, from what she could gather, wanted to rectify the situation long ago but felt the bridge had been too burned to repair.

Pressing a kiss to his neck, she snuggled in again and softly said, “Well, you aren’t going to have to live without me, not ever again.” She sighed. They hadn’t talked about what had happened while they were apart; somehow, she believed he knew what she’d done. She squeezed him again. ”There were times in my life though, that I wasn’t that nice of a person. God I made Janet pay for what my mother did. I was fourteen. I lashed out the only way I knew how… at Janet. And she loved me anyway. I’d scream at her that I hated her, and she’d counter that with ‘It’s okay, Grace. But I still love you.’ And I never understood it. I still don’t. She *is* my mother. But I still ache… and I don’t know why.”

“Because she isn’t your *real* mother,” Bruce said softly. “She isn’t the person who sang you lullabies at night or held your hand on the first day of school. She didn’t kiss your boo-boos or let you help her in the garden even though you were pulling flowers and not weeds. Because no matter how much she has done for, no matter how much she has loved you and you love her, there isn’t a substitute for the real thing. Even if they come really close, no one can replace your parents.”

It took them both a moment to realize Bruce wasn’t just talking about Janet, and neither of them said anything for a while. “Alfred’s always been more than butler to me,” he admitted. “He’s all the family I’ve ever had until recently.” Until you, and Courtney, he silently amended.
“And I love him, for all he’s been to me. I couldn’t imagine what life would have been like without him. But to have my parents back…” he trailed off wistfully.

“Yeah,” she agreed softly. ”To hear your mom tell you everything is going to be alright and know it for a fact because *she* said it.”
She pulled away and looked up at him, understanding that, though the loss was vastly different, they both shared it. Reaching up, she lightly touched his cheek. ”Maybe, what we have to do, you and I, is hold on to that aspect with each other. If you tell me everything is going to be all right, then I’ll believe you. Implicitly trust that you want what’s best for me.”

She caught his eyes with hers. ”And I promise to always be here for you. I’ll never go anywhere. We’re in this together… thick and thin.”

This was why Bruce loved her so much… because of all the women –and a few men– he’d dated in his life, none of them had cared what he was feeling. They’d been in love with the name, the money, and the status. Big house, fancy cars… he was just a pretty face with money to them. But Grace? She wasn’t like that; she loved him. He had no doubt of that, because it showed in everything she did.

“I think that’s more than feasible, love. In fact, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He kissed her forehead, then nose, leaning further in with each kiss until his lips met hers, tenderly expressing his devotion for her. All his heart told him that they were connected in a way that nothing could sever.

*-*-*

When Bruce finally excused himself with claims of things he needed to get done in preparation for his next round of meetings at City Hall, he didn’t go straight into training. There was something he had to do first.

Heading into his den, he pulled out his cell phone and punched in the number for Grace’s father’s law office in upstate New York. He’d promised George he’d take care of things, and he had. Well, gotten the ball rolling, but it was a start.

When the receptionist answered and asked how she could direct his call, he told her to please tell Mr. O’Neil that Mr. Bruce Wayne was calling. She politely said she would and then put him on hold.

When the phone rang, George set down the contract he was pouring over, brows furrowed in chagrin that the legal assistant he’d hired recently could write a contract with so many loopholes in it. So if his voice was a little agitated when he picked up the phone, his receptionist didn’t seem to notice.

“Sorry to bother you, sir. There’s a Bruce Wayne on the phone. Should I forward the call or take a message?”

George pushed the contract aside, eyes immediately going to the photo on his desk. His thoughts traveled back to the phone call he’d had with Miles yesterday. And the discussion he’d had with Janet last night. She seemed all for letting Bruce back in. Bygones be bygones. Living life while it was had to be lived. And Miles trusted the young man implicitly. And Grace… loved him. So as George O’Neil slept last night, he came to a conclusion. ”Put the call through,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Yes, sir.”

When the phone rang again, he said, “Hello Bruce.”

Their last phone conversation was still on Bruce’s mind when the call was patched through. Through it had barely been a few days ago, it was fresh in his mind and he was all too aware that he needed to rebuild the man’s trust.

“Hello, George,” he replied. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything pressing…”

He’d been sitting at his desk when he started, but now stood, moving to the window. Outside, the late afternoon sun glistened of the snow in his spacious ‘back yard.’ A brief memory of building a snowman with his father as a child flickered through his mind. His mom had been sick, and he and his father had built an entire snow family where she could see it from their bedroom window. That was the last winter before they… “But I thought perhaps I should apprise you of how things are faring here.”

George leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his baldhead he thought back to the things he made Bruce promise him he would do. That was Sunday… today was Tuesday. If he’d come through on any of them… Well, George knew anyway. Bruce wanted desperately to rebuild that trust. And that meant something. ”I appreciate that, Bruce. I really do.” His words were genuine as he spoke. “How is she?”

He glanced back over at the picture and then at a candid shot of the five of them having a cookout over the summer. George and Bruce acting as chefs while trying NOT to burn the steaks. Grace and Hope sunbathing… and Janet… relaxing on a raft in the pool. It had been George’s first attempt at one of those remote controlled cameras. That
day it had worked perfectly. That day had been perfect. Perhaps perfection could come back. He knew this phone call could go a long way toward that.

“She’s doing much better,” he told Grace’s father. “She’s been sleeping better… eating finally,” he paused, chuckling. “Alfred’s been seeing to it every meal includes all of her favorite foods. And she’s been smiling, George. Smiling.” He said the word like it was some kind of miracle, because really, it was in his eyes. The first couple of days after Grace woke up had been the hardest. The fear in her eyes had scared him so badly, but it was gone now. “And we’ve… worked through a lot of stuff. She’s… um, staying at the Manor now. She’s let the apartment go.” He was rambling and felt so unsure. It was weird, but he’d never felt this way around anyone’s parents before. But with George and Janet? The first time he’d met them was at Grace’s birthday party practically two years ago. He’d been so nervous, he’d spent most of the night ‘hiding’ at the bar for fear of ruining her night somehow. He felt like that now, because of how he knew he’d hurt her.

“Today was a little difficult for her, though,” he said, leading into the major reason for his call. “We had a visit from the police, about her attack.”

George wanted to go back and comment… mostly on the fact that his daughter was smiling… another on the living situation. He knew Grace would move back in as soon as she got the opportunity, but mostly what George wanted to say was that he was pleased. Even if Bruce never hinted at marriage, keeping that apartment had never been something George liked.

But when Bruce brought up the police, he focused everything one that.
His voice showed his pleasure. ”You got her to press charges?” Of course he wanted details, but the fact that she’d done it… it almost shocked him completely, pleasantly actually. ”Bruce… that’s great!”

Bruce smiled at the sound of the other man’s voice. They had both wanted this, for Grace to press charges. For her attacker –stalker, he amended– to pay for what he’d done. His smile faded a little. George wouldn’t like that much. “I got lucky, I think,” he told the lawyer. “Grace has it in her head that the man who saved her is that… Batman
guy the media down here in Gotham keep telling stories about. Have you heard of him? Anyway, she came to me wanting to know how I thought she could thank this guy… and I convinced her that whoever did save her, he didn’t do it just to watch that piece of scum walk free.” Here,
Bruce couldn’t hide his distaste of Grace’s stalker from his voice. “And I pulled some strings and got the cops to come to us. No reporters, no photographers. Just Grace, me, and the cops who were working the case.” That had helped a lot, he knew, as she wasn’t someplace public when the realization hit her that she’d been stalked.
“Ahh!! Smart move, Bruce. Very smart move. Cause we both know
Gracie. She won’t do half the things she should for herself, but tell her she’s doing them for someone else, and she’d move mountains if she could. I’m so proud of her…” He was genuinely smiling when he said, “Of you both. Thank you so much. Going to the police station was the worst of it for her the last time. And you had the right of it Bruce… the man is scum. To attack an innocent woman…” He paused for a moment. ”She thinks Batman saved her? I’ve heard tidbits… Miles mentioned something about him the other day, actually. Grace thinks he saved her, huh? Anything’s possible. And if she believes strongly enough, nothing will deter her from it.”

“Don’t I know it,” he chuckled. “And yeah, Batman. That’s what she told Detective Vincent today anyway. He wasn’t as inclined to believe as Chad was, though.” Bruce voice tightened. Vincent may be working the case, but if he contradicted Grace again, he’d be a meter maid before he could even say the word.

Bruce sighed. He wanted to bask in the glory of George’s words. He was proud of him. It lifted a weight off his heart to hear it. But the rest of the news needed to be told, and Bruce worried about how it would be received. “George,” he said after a hesitant pause. “There’s something you need to know about her attack. Vincent showed Grace a photo of the man who grabbed her that night. She knew him; he was a former student of hers from when she taught those classes.” Bruce pressed his fingers to the window, feeling the chill through the glass. “Chad says he admitted to watching her for months, George. It was a stalker, and not a random attack.” The last words were voiced with such pain and anger. Though he’d never voice it, he blamed himself more than anything. If he hadn’t turned her away… it was a mistake he’d spend the rest of his life making up for.

“A stalker,” George said the word as if the information hadn’t fully soaked in. ”A stalker,” he said it again for emphasis. ”Oh Jesus, Bruce.” His face went red with rage. But it wasn’t directed toward anyone but the man who perpetuated the crime. ”No wonder she’s had it rough today. Grace, though I love her dearly, doesn’t give herself much credit sometimes. She and I had talked about stalkers the first time she modeled. Her response was no one would stalk her… there were much more beautiful women to stalk. I tried to tell her that there were few women more beautiful than she, but she told me I was biased. Then I explained to her that beauty had nothing to do with stalkers. But it never sank it.” He sighed. ”I guess it has now.”

All he wanted to do right now was get in his car, drive to the airport, fly to Gotham, and beat that scumbag to death. How dare he put his hands on Grace?! ”You know what I think… and I know you’ll agree… I think that scum should thank his lucky stars that he’s under police
protection.” He paused for another long moment. ”How’s she dealing though? Mentioned anything about secluding herself? She’s done that… when she was a teenager…” he said, thinking of Judy and the damage she created.

Bruce nodded, the events of that night still so fresh in his mind. He’d been so angry with that man for even daring to look at Grace, let alone touch her, that he hadn’t been able to contain himself. Only his concern for her immediate well being had stopped him from doing worse than he did. He’d wanted to kill the man, if truth be known.

“I know… we… she told me about her mom,” he said, knowing that if George wasn’t open with it then Grace had never really told anyone before. “She was pretty upset, George. I won’t lie to you about that. She kept asking if there could be others… like that man.” His voice froze up as he recalled the look in her eyes. She’d been terrified and clearly on the verge of hiding. “I’m going to… try… to help her through it, though. Maybe if she has someone to lean on, she won’t try hide herself away from the world she loves so much.” Grace’s love of life had been one of the things that had solidified his attraction to her. Or rather, hooked him like a fish. He’d hate to see her lose that over this… over that horrible man. He’d do anything to make sure she didn’t.

“She told you about Judy?” George sighed and confided something himself. ”I didn’t get a chance to analyze the woman’s reasoning at first. Hope… she cried and then became angry and went on with her life determined not to let it get her down. But Gracie… Bruce, it’s harder for her. Like I said, she’s special. To hate her mother, in a lot of ways would be to hate herself… at least in Grace’s eyes. They were so close. You look at Grace now and that’s Judy when she was in her late 20?s. Judy loved life… was the living definition of a perfect mother. And then one day a switch was thrown and she was gone… Grace was devastated.”

He paused again. ”If anyone can get her out and living, I know you can do it. I know she’s safe there with you. But the hurt… over her mother… will always be fresh. And to add on top of it this stalker. She’ll want to isolate herself. I know she’s in the best hands possible.” George chuckled lightly… almost ironically. ”Hold her tight, but make her go out and live. Bruce… make her go shopping,” George did laugh then. ”Goodness knows that girl loves clothing.”

That made Bruce laugh. “Tell me about it? When she moved in –the first time– I couldn’t believe how much clothing she had. Alfred had to open two of the other walk in closets just to fit it all.” He smiled at the memory. That day hadn’t been the best for him, but Grace being there had made all the difference in the world. “She already has been shopping a little… before today, anyway. Came home from her afternoon with Courtney with a brand new car.” Well, car wasn’t the right word. It was a metallic purple Hummer. “But we’ll shop… we’ll do whatever takes. I’m not letting her down again, George. Your daughter… well, she means the world to me.”

“I know she does. I knew it all along.” George chuckled a bit though as he said, “A car? Or some Monster on Wheels? The bigger, the better. I mean… that bright yellow Hummer…” He paused. ”I don’t want to know what she bought this time, do I?” He shook his head. ”No, I really don’t. But yeah, take her out…”

He snapped her fingers. ”I have an idea, Bruce. Oh she’ll love it!
Ice skating… We used to go all the time when the rink was open. She’d be out there in her purple snow suit with the fuzzy purple collar… stuck out like a sore thumb… she loved it.”

Bruce smiled, and his eyes drifted back to the snow outside. “I haven’t been skating in… forever.” It might not be a bad idea, really. Something fun and light-hearted. He’d call Nee and see what she thought. “That could be fun.” After a pause, he said something
potentially dangerous. “Thanks, George. I know I haven’t given you much reason to trust me lately… just thanks.”

George looked back at the picture of the picnic and smiled softly. “Bruce, it takes a lot of guts and courage to do what you’ve done. I mean, face me… talk to me. My girls are my world, and since you’ve talked to Grace, I imagine you have a very good insight as to why. Moreover, it takes a lot of love to go to the lengths you have for her. And I believe actions speak louder than words. It’s all water under the bridge. Okay?” And as he spoke those words, he knew them to be true. Bruce had followed through and done so very quickly. And George felt comfortable with Grace being in Bruce’s care. ”She’s safe with you and happy. And that’s what I’ve wanted for her for so long.”

“Thanks,” Bruce said again, his voice more relieved than before. He knew now that he’d been redeemed a little in the older man’s eyes. And seeing as he never intended to repeat the action that had caused him to fall from grace, he doubted he’d lose that little bit of redemption. “I’ll let you know how it goes from here… if it goes to trial… I’d rather you hear things from us that from the press anyway.” Bruce knew George’s other daughter was a budding journalist, but he still did not trust the media.

They said good-bye, and Bruce let George get back to his work. Soon after, he was heading to the training room, but on impulse, deterred to the main gym instead, as he felt like playing with the gymnastics rings.

*-*-*

“You won’t believe what just happened,” Hope began after Grace’s initial hello.

Grace had been in the gym, running one of her old step-aerobics/ kickboxing routines. She hadn’t done this one in over a year but it had all come back to her so easily. She had the music turned up and was working up a good sweat when Alfred interrupted her for the phone call. “Bruce still working?” she’d asked while grabbing her towel. Alfred said he was and Grace merely nodded before taking the phone.

Now she listened to Hope’s enthusiastic voice as she rode the bicycle. “What just happened to you?”

“I just got a phone call from Detective Walker Vincent. Wants me to give a deposition. Says you had a stalker and I was with you when he talked to you. Man, how freaky is that? My sister had a stalker!”

“I know, Hope,” Grace said, pushing her body harder as she rode.

“Well aren’t you the crabby one?” came her response even though her tone was teasing, the words were serious.

Stopping the bike abruptly, she said, “You tell me how I’m supposed to react. The man tried to kill me… had been following me for months, so I’m sorry if that upsets me. I don’t find it cool in the least.”

“I didn’t say it was cool. I said it was freaky. Listen, I’m gonna head to the station to give my deposition. Are you okay?”

“I’m safe here,” Grace acknowledged. “I more than likely won’t be going anywhere by myself for a while, but I’m fine.” They exchanged goodbyes, and Grace set the phone aside. Leaving the bike, she went straight to the bag. As she ran an old kickboxing regimen, lots of thoughts ran through her mind.

Bruce, and Chad to the best he could, had both been very comforting in reassuring her that she was safe. The look on Bruce’s face told her to what extent he would go to make sure that would be the case. But safety and security had always been Grace’s biggest issues. She’d trusted her biological mother to keep her safe, and Judy had abandoned her. Grace landed a hard kick to the bag at the thought of Judy O’Neil. She wanted to hate her, but a part of her still loved her. She couldn’t help but think about her. How could she not? Every time she looked in the mirror, she saw Judy’s face reflected back at her.

Truth was, if Judy were to come back and asked to be forgiven, Grace would probably give her a chance. But the abandonment had been the first thing that had rocked Grace’s world. The first thing that made her believe it wasn’t a safe and secure place. And even though her father had made sure that both girls had received counseling, Grace never fully recovered.

She’d found safety and security in Chad as well. Her first love. Seven years together, counting the three in high school. He’d always been there for her, loved her, and took care of her. She’d repaid him by breaking HIS heart. Calling off their wedding two weeks before the date, running from the secure future she would have had with him because she was afraid. Terrified.

When Bill started hitting her, she told herself it was what she deserved… her ‘punishment’ for turning away the one she should have been with.

She was running the kickboxing routine on automatic now. It wasn’t a grueling or punishing workout, but it allowed her some free time to clear her thoughts. It’s what she needed most right now.

AnnaBeth had called George when she feared for Grace’s life. She’d also called the police, but by the time they arrived, Grace was unconscious. She awoke in the hospital, feeling very frightened. And although Courtney and George never left her side, she didn’t find security again anywhere until she found Bruce.

She paused at the thought of him before returning to her routine.

When she’d returned to Gotham, she had nothing. The courts had taken everything, declaring her to be in breech of contract with her modeling agency. But she couldn’t stay in New York City… her mental health wouldn’t allow it. So she’d returned home. Chad had offered to let her stay with him. It had been very tempting… to go back to him. But in the end, she decided to stay with Courtney instead. Living with her was the safest she’d felt in a long time… again until Bruce. She hadn’t stayed with Courtney long though, her friend more than determined that Grace actually live and not hide behind her.

The question now was… did she feel safe? The answer was yes. She knew beyond a doubt that Bruce would make sure no other ‘stalker’ got near her. She understood that she was his priority. There was no question that he would do anything to see her safe, secure, and happy. And unlike how she was with Chad, she wasn’t scared by the thought of forever or commitment where Bruce was concerned. He was her life, and she was where she belonged.

Finishing her workout, she sat on the floor and relaxed, leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes and smiled. ‘Good workout,’ she thought.

When Bruce entered the gym, he saw Grace leaning against the wall. She was sweaty and disheveled, as if she’d just been through a very rigorous work out, but right now, her eyes were closed and he hesitated to disturb her.

“Looks like we had the same idea,” he said after standing there watching her for a minute or two. “You meditating? Cuz if so, I could leave you alone?” He risked a grin when she opened her eyes to look at him. She’d once told him that she couldn’t meditate because she couldn’t focus on one thing that long. Walking closer, he sat down next to her. The wall was cool on his back. It probably felt good to her after her routine.

“I actually think I was on the verge of falling asleep or something,” she laughed lightly, rubbing her face with the towel. “I was multi-tasking. Hope called. Detective Vincent is a jerk, but he’s quick.
She’s going to the local police station to give a deposition. And she didn’t seem to think I was bubbly enough for her so we swapped growling remarks. She just doesn’t get me sometimes. I know she tries, but she sees this stalking thing as freaky… but interesting because it means I’m *somebody*,” she used her fingers to create quotations in the air.

She paused. “So I thought I’d blow off some steam and try to start getting back into shape. One goes with the other. And then I just ended up sorting a lot of things out in my head.” Her head was still resting on the wall as she turned it to smile at him. “I still have some left in me if you wanted to work out together. I was working on my kickboxing.”

“Of course you’re somebody,” Bruce replied matter-of-factly as he got up. Holding out his hand to help her to her feet, he clarified, “You’re the sun, the moon and the stars… and everything else that makes up my entire universe.” He pulled her to him smoothly, stealing a kiss before she could quite recover from the suddenness of it. Then he pulled away, and said, “and you’re probably the person who’s going to put me to shame with her kickboxing techniques.” He winked at her, letting her know he’d love to work out with her.

“Speaking of Hope…” Bruce began, linking Hope to family and family to George easily. “I, uh, spoke to your dad just now.”

“You did?” She had taken a step toward the mat and stopped, turning back around to look at him. He seemed okay, better than the last time he talked to her father. “I’m so glad you thought to call him. I should have done it, but my mind so isn’t where it should be. You left for your office and I just thought… workout.” She smiled lightly.

“So how is he? What did you guys talk about? He didn’t go all ‘protective Daddy’ on you again, did he?” She was honestly concerned that though George believed in second chances, he might not be so willing to give one to Bruce. And that concerned her, because they had seemed to have a bond. She liked the thought of maybe, someday, her dad and Bruce having a close relationship. They were both good men, with good hearts and souls.

“No ‘protective Daddy’ this time.” Bruce smiled to ease her mind about that. He’d expected it, but when it hadn’t come, he’d been relieved. He loved Grace and couldn’t even begin to contemplate life without her ever again. And for whatever reason, having her father’s approval meant something to him. “I kind of figured you’d be too upset to talk about it again, so I filled him in about the stalking. He was concerned, but I think I helped ease his fears a bit about your safety and stuff. Or at least, I hope so.” He stepped onto the mat, and came to stand by her side again. “Then we talked about ice skating, believe it or not.”

She laughed. “Oh dear Lord, did he tell you about my purple snow pants? It had a matching purple coat with a very furry collar. I’d skate around and that stuff would fly off the collar. Back then, I loved that thing, but now…” She smiled. “And he LOVES telling people that story.”

She faced him on mat. Her eyes holding his for a moment. She was sure he was humoring her about the kickboxing comment. He’d done a lot of honing during their separation. And she’d done exactly the opposite. But still, it meant a lot that they were even falling easily back into this routine. Light contact matches were something they did quite often. It was a sign of trust on Grace’s end, and they both knew why. The epitome of trust in their relationship. He let her go on the offensive, and it was more than easy to fall back into the routine. It was very therapeutic as well.

“I thought the snow pants sounded cute,” Bruce said, teasing, as he faced her. “Actually, the skating sounds like fun. I was just thinking I’d been spending too much time indoors this winter.” Of course, this was far from the truth where he was concerned, but she didn’t need to know that. Besides, ice-skating did sound like fun.
“Maybe we should go sometime this week?”

And maybe he shouldn’t have asked so soon after the attack, but Bruce couldn’t think of a better time to go than now. They were back together, and they weren’t hiding it. Plus, if she went with him, it would show everyone that Grace wasn’t letting the attack bring her down. As for the media… he’d handle whatever came up.

Taking a defensive stance, he waited for Grace’s first move. His eyes let her know he was serious about their combat. She needed the outlet, and he could take just about anything she dished out right now. Besides, having someone to spar with would be better for his training anyway.

“We could go,” she said, getting into the spar slowly by leading off with a kick and following it with two punches that he blocked easily. ‘He’s quicker,’ she thought, as she took a step back, waiting his counter. “But no purple pants,” she teased. She blocked his counter, thinking perhaps he was doing some gauging of her himself.

She didn’t realize it until this moment… She’d missed this too. He would throw punches and kicks and she never gave it a second thought.
She trusted Bruce that much. Her training was coming back to her though, and she was starting to really get into the exercise. She could tell he was settling in too, as they both began to really get into it. She really, really needed this.

“Right… no pants… er, purple ones, I mean,” he quipped, giving her a very salacious grin as he threw a punch, which she easily blocked. He could feel them falling into their old routine like a familiar dance. Four months hadn’t dulled the instinct of how to block or how to move. He knew he was quicker now, but he could see her adapting to it with the ease born of someone who knew her stuff. Grace wasn’t a novice when it came to kickboxing.

He blocked another punch, though this one came close to making real contact, as he’d been caught off guard while watching her body as she moved. She was so heavenly, so gorgeous, and even now, it amazed him that George had actually said she’d doubted the extent of her beauty.

She spun and sat back waiting for his next offensive move, which she blocked and as she did, she moved in and pulled a punch that would have easily contacted with his ribs. It cost her though as he made a touch as well, this one to her shoulder. He was better at anticipating as well, but she recovered and pulled back, setting up for her next attack. “I’m wearing pants,” she teased, the words coming out in small bursts because she was a bit winded. “Whether you want me to or not, I’m wearing pants.”

She moved in again, this time leading with kicks instead of punches.
It seemed appropriate, as it was what she would be wearing on her legs that they were discussing.

“No…” His breath had picked up, though whether because of the exercise or the woman with him, he wasn’t sure at moment. He easily evaded her kicks, his eyes remaining fixated on her legs for several seconds, “fair. I’m sure I could come up with an alternate means of keeping them warm.” What were they talking about again?

Her next move –another kick to the midsection– made him step back as it connected.

She was thankful it was light contact or else that particular kick could have hurt. She pulled back, giving him a moment. “Are you ok?” she asked, wanting to make sure that she hadn’t hurt him. She waited for him to recover and then had to tease, “I have no doubt that you can keep me warm.” She winked. “But I told you about those lower abs.” She laughed. Of course, it was only then that she realized she’d dropped her focus.

Trying to quickly recover before he took advantage, she led with a very weak punch. Not her best, but she was having far too much fun at the moment.

Bruce’s counter move was nothing either of them was expecting. With hands that moved quicker than hers, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her hard against his chest. Only their clothes came between Grace and the abs she’d just chided him for. “I’m fine,” breathed raggedly, his expression turning instantly to one of unveiled passion. He dropped her wrist in favor of holding her closer. “Perfect…” Then his lips were on hers and his arms were tightening around her waist.

*-*-*

Bruce awoke from a light doze, having been drifting between sleep and waking moments ever since their last round of lovemaking. The rest of their day had been very relaxed. They’d made love after their sparring session, ate lunch on a picnic blanket in the solarium and then simply held each other until Courtney called for an update. At dinnertime, they seriously discussed the whole ice-skating idea, and Bruce resolved that he would clear his schedule for Friday. Lee wouldn’t like it much, but it wasn’t exactly Lee’s feelings with which Bruce was concerned. After watching the sunset over the snow-covered horizon from the balcony, they’d retired to the bedroom for the night.

Bruce had felt the need to be with Grace as much as possible, to hold and to comfort her. Now, however, the night pressed on and he knew he had to leave the sanctuary of their bed. Slipping from beneath the covers, he eased out of bed and pulled on his clothes and then stole
from the room.

Tonight’s patrol was quiet and boring. Nothing very much going on at all. A few times, a familiar patrol car passed by, and Chad’s words from earlier that day came back to his mind. He believed in the Batman, and he didn’t seem hostile, like Vincent had been. He knew that opinions were varied. The newspapers were full of them, especially since Grace’s attack.

Still, it had dawned on him earlier, when he’d been trying to link recent crimes to Thorne, that a contact within the police might be useful…. and his gut was telling him he could trust Chad Harris.

When Chad’s patrol car pulled into the back parking lot of a greasy spoon on the corner, he made a decision. He waited, and the patrol officer got out. His rookie partner must have been sick that day, as the car was empty. Bruce approached, waiting in the shadows until Chad returned with a Styrofoam cup of coffee. Bruce waited until he got into the car and started it up to act.

Batman darted out the shadows, grabbed the passenger side door handle and was inside the car in seconds. Chad nearly jumped out of his skin, and the car swerved. “Drive!” Batman ordered, reminding the startled police officer to keep his eyes on the road. Chad drove, but his eyes kept shifting to the dark figure in the car with him. Batman gave another order, barking the street address of a park he’d once taken Grace to. It was quiet, out of the way, and no one would be there this time of night. He was surprised when the cop complied.

On any given day, Officer Chad Harris would have reflexively punched out anyone who dared to kidnap him. This wasn’t any given day though, or even a typical kidnapping. His first response upon seeing the masked, caped figure was that he had been right. He had been right, and so had Grace. His second was that this had been the man who saved
her. The man had saved her life. So he did as he was instructed and drove. He was stunned, shocked, amazed, and a bit overwhelmed by the entire situation. But here was the proof, sitting beside him.

The man who had single-handedly done in a short few months what Chad had wanted to do for years. Of course, this Batman wasn’t exactly bound by the same laws that Chad was. If Chad had beaten the perp and hospitalized him, it could have very well cost him his job. Not that it wouldn’t have been worth it. He still wanted a few moments alone with that scumbag.

He pulled into the park as he was instructed, unbuckled his seatbelt and then turned to face the man sitting beside him. There was an air of dead seriousness about him, and something else as well that Chad couldn’t put his finger on… vengeance… whatever it was, it permeated from Batman’s entire being. ”Ok,” he finally said, “you have my attention.”

“Good,” Batman answered. He held Chad’s eyes, searching them as if to see if he’d been mistaken about the man. Grace had always said that the eyes told the most about a person. When he was certain he wasn’t wrong, he spoke again. “We’re both busy people, so I’ll be brief.” He paused and then said, “I need your help.”

That last bit had, admittedly, taken the officer by surprise. What did Batman need with his help? It seemed as of late, Chad was the one who was collecting the perps that Batman collared. What more could he do? He eyed the man for several moments. A couple months ago, someone had approached him… offered him a great deal of money if he’d look the other way on some local extortion he’d witnessed. Of course, there was no amount of money that could buy Chad off. So, he’d arrested the man, and a week later, someone had unsuccessfully tried to kill him. He’d didn’t care what the cost; he couldn’t be bought.

But sitting here, across from this man… this hero as Grace so openly called him. Chad’s blue eyes locked with dark brown ones and he said, “What do you need?”

What did he need? A contact in the police force, someone who was honest and couldn’t be bought. Someone he could trust. “Your eyes. Your ears.” The answer was cryptic at best. Batman elaborated. “There’s more I could be doing than just stopping random acts of injustice. I need someone inside the Gotham PD I can trust. Information. Locations.” He wanted the man who made most of the ills in Gotham happen to suffer. He wanted Thorne.

“Information,” Chad repeated, turning so he completely faced the other man, his arm resting casually on the steering wheel. “Locations.” He thought for a long moment, more questions running through his mind than he could put voice to. The fact was, right now, he needed to focus on the most important bit of information. ”I take it you’re after someone in particular… someone that we,” and here he meant the police department, “can’t quite touch because of the laws we’re bound by. But someone who deserves to be brought to justice nonetheless. Who specifically would that be?” He was tempted to remind the man that he was just a patrol officer, but everyone knew he was a lot more than that, so he didn’t even pretend.

“Among others, Thorne.” The name dropped coldly from Batman’s mouth. He wanted to cripple the so-called ‘businessman’s’ organization. His reasons were the obvious ones. Thorne’s crime syndicate was the source of most of the small crime in Gotham, as well as the big stuff. Where there was a mugging, there was a man in need of quick cash to pay off a dealer. The dealer got his drugs through someone else, and the drugs made up a portion of Thorne’s profits. Other crimes connected in similar ways. Yes, some of it wasn’t connected, but those independents had their own set of problems. Paying Thorne for the right to their own niche of the streets. Gangs with guns? Who made the guns available? Everyone knew, and most people chose to ignore it. “And you,” he said, fixing Chad with a pointed stare, “are in a position to see more than I can.”

“Thorne,” Chad fairly hissed. ”Yeah, I could think of a thing or two
I’d like to do to that man.” He sighed. He knew, as well as Detective Vincent, that Thorne was the one who’d hired the man who tried to kill Chad. What had been most confusing was why there’d only been one attempt. Maybe Thorne didn’t think a patrol officer was worth any extra time or effort. And now maybe, just maybe, they’d have a chance to bring the crime boss down. Thorne owned several of the officers and detectives in Gotham. He didn’t own Gordon or the Mayor. Like him, they couldn’t be bought. He didn’t own Vincent either. As much as the man rankled Chad, he was an honest detective. It’s why Chad overlooked the detective’s attitude like he did.

“I’ll give you what I know,” Chad said, making the decision easily. “He’s got a few toadies that hang out at this bar not far from where you picked me up tonight. I’ve bagged them a couple times for assault… once for attempted rape. But, of course, nothing ever sticks.” The last was almost a growl. ”I know they work for Thorne, but neither will talk. Before we can lean on them too heavily, the lawyers rush in and they’re released.” Chad looked up at him, eyes slightly enraged at the injustice of it. ”They know what will happen to them if they turn stoolie; but if leaned on properly, I’ve little doubt one of them will talk.”

He paused for a moment as if he was going to say more, and he knew
Batman was processing the information he’d just been given. “One question… why me? Why not any other of the patrol officers? Why not one of the detectives? What made you decide to get in *my* squad car tonight?”

Batman filed the information away for future use. He’d been pressuring Thorne’s people accidentally before, almost unwittingly, but now? He was going to be seeking them out. “Call it hunch,” he said in reference to the expected ‘why me?’ “But I think we want the same things for this city. A pact would be most beneficial.”

“Bringing down Thorne would go a long way toward crippling the crime element in this city. We all ‘know’ how he earned his fortune, but again, we can’t prove a damn thing.” He paused again. ”And yeah, I think we want the same things too. If it’s in my power to help, I will. Obviously,” and this was the first time his face softened since they’d parked the car, “you know how to find me.”

Batman nodded, and for an instant, Chad thought he was going to get out of the car without saying anything else. He was a man who got right to the point, but Chad had a point he needed to make as well. ”Last week, you stopped a mugging. A mugging that actually turned out to be a hell of a lot more than just that. The woman you saved…” he paused, quickly thinking back to how settled and content she was with Bruce. It settled something within him as well. ”She is a very special woman… to me and to a lot of other people.” He smiled lightly. ”She knows you saved her. She pressed charges today, which for her is a BIG thing. She wanted to thank you. I do too. Like I said, she’s a special lady. If you hadn’t been there, the world would have lost her, and that would have been a big shame.”

He had been looking beyond the cloaked figure, out to the snow covered trees of the dimly lit park as he spoke. Turning his attention back to the man, he said, “So anything you need from me, you have. Check out the toadies first. Hammer and Deetz are their names. I’ll see what else I can dig up for you tonight. Find me tomorrow night. My partner goes off duty long before I do. He seems to think this is just an eight hour job,” Chad’s voice reflected exactly what he thought of his partner and his work ethics.

Batman nodded, making it an overall response to all that Chad had said. He didn’t trust himself speak after what Chad had said about Grace. But he did know how to contact the cop, and he would be checking out Hammer and Deetz soon enough. His mind was more at ease, as well. Chad would help, no questions asked, because he accepted what Batman was doing. “I’ll be in touch soon,” he said when he finally did trust himself not to reveal anything through his voice. And then, much as he’d entered the car, he was gone, disappearing into the night surrounding the park he knew so well.

Chad sat there for several moments. Man wasn’t much for ‘thank you’s’, he thought with a slight chuckle. But at least he’d gotten the point across. And, though he wouldn’t exactly be telling Grace, or anyone else, about this meeting, he imagined she would feel better knowing the man directly responsible had been thanked… face-to-face. He also felt a renewed sense of purpose. Batman was going to make a far better ally in bringing down Thorne than his partner or any other officer or detective on the force. He saw it in the man’s eyes. Hammer and Deetz were going to be paid a visit tonight.

Starting his car, he drove off in the opposite direction of where he
assumed Batman would be heading. Hammer and Deetz, though they were only a couple of toadies… they were the hardest ones to get talking. He’d take a drive across town and lean on a couple more himself. They wouldn’t give up Thorne, but maybe they could give up something else. It was worth a try. It definitely couldn’t hurt.

*-*-*

The building Chad pulled in front of, for all intents and purposes, looked abandoned. Cautiously, he exited his squad car. He knew appearances were deceiving. The place looked abandoned, but in reality it was far from it. As he made his way toward the entrance, someone yelled “PIG!”. He heard the flurry of activity before squatters ran pell-mell out of the building. Regardless of the swarm of humanity running in the opposite direction, Chad moved easily toward the alley, waiting for the one he was looking for.

When the man appeared, Chad caught him easily and pushed him hard up against the wall. He pretty much detested playing the role of ‘hard ass’. He didn’t like using brute force to get his point across. But he’d dealt with this man many, many times. Anything other than harsh just would not work. The criminal only understood one way of doing things… the hard way. “How’s it going tonight, Nicky?”

“Man, I ain’t done nothin’.”

“Oh no! I just came to talk. That’s all. You, me, a little light conversation.”

“I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’!”

That comment found Nicky spun and slammed hard against the wall. “You ain’t done nothin’ and you aren’t tellin’ me nothin’. Then I guess that just means I get to take you downtown.”

“For what?”

“Well, there are ‘No Trespassing’ signs all over that building you just ran from. If I made you take a breath test, my guess is you’d be publicly intoxicated. And if I gave you a pat down, I bet you’d have drugs on you.”

“No dope, Officer Harris, I swear it.”

“Right. I just want to talk. That’s all.” He let go of the criminal, knowing exactly what the man would do.

When Nicky ran, Chad caught him easily, giving him a little push to the pavement. Nicky cried out as he was rolled over, blood was oozing from his nose. Leaning down, Chad made as if to brush snow off his jacket and instead grabbed him by it. “You make a drop tonight, Nicky?” Nicky was a transport. Working the streets, he’d transport drugs or money from the dealers to Thorne’s henchmen. Everyone knew Nicky was a snitch, but they didn’t pay him much mind. He worked for a fix and was easily disposable. In truth, no one gave a shit.

“I didn’t drop any smack tonight.”

“Not talking about smack, now am I? Was doing myself a bit of observing tonight… your pals Hammer and Deetz. I got a bit distracted, so I figured I’d seek you out. Now, you’re on this end of town, and they are on the other. Still at the bar, I’d imagine. So yeah, I know you didn’t drop smack tonight. Who’d you give the wad to?”

“If I tell you, they’ll kill me!”

Chad lifted him up off the pavement, not far, but it definitely put pressure on the man’s head, causing him to cry out. “I doubt they give a shit about you. See, right now, Nicky, this is just between us… you and me. You’re an anonymous source. So, who’d you make the drop to?”

“I don’t know,” Nicky admitted.

“Fine,” Chad said, letting the jacket go suddenly and causing Nicky’s head to hit the pavement. “I’ll tell you what. Since you’re reluctant to talk here, I’ll take you downtown. We’ll press some charges. And when Thorne’s lawyers come to get you, I’ll make sure they know we had ourselves a long talk. They’ll know you know more than the average transporter. Think they’ll give a shit about you then? I do.”

Nicky’s eyes went wide with fear. Officer Chad Harris had a reputation around town. He wasn’t too popular with the criminal element. Thugs of all shapes and sizes knew that once Officer Harris had you pegged, he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. That was either you in jail or information from you.

“It was dark, I didn’t see much,” he cried, rubbing the back of his head.

“What was your contact’s name?”

“I don’t know.”

“Give me his GOD DAMN name!”

“Sp… Spence. That’s all I know!!!”

Chad’s face paled. “What did he look like?”

“It was dark, man. I didn’t see much.”

Chad reached for the jacket again. “What did he look like?” He’d brought his face close to the other man’s, his eyes red hot with rage.

“Dark hair. Skinny, young guy. He had a tattoo… some kind of fancy cross.”

Dropping him again, Chad hissed. “Get out of here.”

It was all Nicky needed. Torn between holding his bleeding nose and the bumps on the back of his head, he ran off into the night.

Slowly, Chad walked back to his squad car. Getting in, he started it up and hit the steering wheel with enough force to shake it. “MOTHER FUCKER!” he shouted. “GOD DAMN IT!” He was fairly shaking with rage.

Last week, his partner had been complaining that he’d just been reprimanded. It had been explained to him that he was going to have to wear his long-sleeved uniform all year around because the new tattoo he’d gotten was below the elbow… on the outside of his forearm. The chief had said that violated dress code. Chad’s partner didn’t care though. He was proud of the tattoo. He raised his sleeve and showed it to Chad. It was a beautifully ornate Celtic cross.

Officer Jeremy ‘Spence’ Spencer was Thorne’s new drop man. He wasn’t working with Chad tonight because he was taking a wad from the transport to some henchmen. Obviously, he was getting paid a pretty penny for it too.

As he pulled off into the night, he tried to contain his anger. Right at this moment, Batman was probably having a nice little chat with Hammer and Deetz, working them for information about Thorne. Chad had little doubt he’d be successful too.

Tomorrow… tomorrow Batman would find out about Officer Jeremy Spencer and maybe have a little chat with him as well. Because if Chad had a talk with him, he’d more than likely beat the hell out of him. Thugs… thugs he could deal with. They were scum… and they were open about it. But crooked cops? He had no patience for crooked cops. And to know that HIS partner was one of them. He was enraged more than he could say.

The good news? They had another link in the chain. Nicky delivered smack to Hammer and Deetz. He delivered the cash to Spence. And hopefully, Batman could find out from all three of them who they made their deliveries too.

But it was going to be a long twenty-four hours for the patrolman. It wasn’t every day one found out his partner was on the take.

*-*-*

When he left the park, Batman made his way back to the district where he’d encountered Chad. He’d been working the streets long enough to know the bar the officer had mentioned. He also knew of Hammer and Deetz, though he hadn’t yet connected them to Thorne’s organization. Deetz was a wiry fellow who looked rather like a ferret in the face. Hammer was the muscle and as far as Batman had seen, had earned his name by hammering people into the ground should they refuse to cooperate. He was also, oddly, the brains of the operation. Or so it often seemed. Deetz was like window dressing, only less pretty.

It was Deetz who came out first, staggering like he was drunk or high, though Batman knew it wasn’t high. Neither of these two did the stuff they trafficked. Hammer followed. They must have been going to meet someone inside Thorne’s operation. They went on foot for a few blocks;
Batman followed closely, though he tried to stay inconspicuous. At one point, they stopped and he heard Deetz whisper, “I gotta feeling like we’re not alone, Hammer.” Shortly after, they slipped into a very public club.

Batman waited, but as the night wore on, he realized they’d given him the slip. Tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow they wouldn’t be so lucky.

When Bruce arrived back at the Manor, Grace was still asleep in their bed, but he couldn’t sleep. His mind was churning with thoughts. He changed and showered and sat down in the leather chair in the corner of the bedroom and waited for her to wake up while he worked out in his mind what he needed to do about Hammer and Deetz.

*-*-*

Continued in Chapter Eight