Preordained Chapter 8
Preordained
by DebC and Christina A
Summary: Bruce & Grace reunite after a painful 4-month separation and everyone’s lives are affected.
Chapter Eight
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Grace woke up the next morning to find Bruce not in the bed but sitting in one of the leather chairs. She wasn’t sure if he heard her wake or not, but when his eyes found hers, he smiled.
“I take it I’m going to have to kidnap the pillow more often to get you to actually stay in bed with me, aren’t I?” She teased. Tossing back the covers, she slowly licked her lips and asked, “Join me in the shower.”
His response was to give her a big smile. He was out of the chair and beside her at the bed in a flash. In one fell swoop, he picked her up, kissed her, and carried her into the bathroom. Batman had a dilemma on his hands, but Bruce had some lost time to make up for. Showering with Grace, and everything that went with that, was a very nice way to make up for that lost time.
*-*-*
When they emerged from the shower, it was to find that breakfast had been brought to them. More than likely, Alfred had come to tell them it was ready, only to realize they were in the shower. So breakfast was brought to them. As they sat eating breakfast, something occurred to Grace. It sort of embarrassed her at first. Though they lived here together and their relationship was a healthy one, she’d had a ‘thing’ about knowing that the entire staff knew just how healthy their relationship was. There was no way they could hide anything from Alfred. He would enter the room and wake them, no matter whether they slept with clothes off or on. He never interrupted anything, but at first, she’d been a bit self-conscious about being naked in the same room Alfred was in.
Then there was the maid. The same one who washed their sheets day after day. The one who made the beds and did their laundry. There was no way of keeping it from her either. And though Alfred said nothing, the rest of the staff talked. It was awkward for her when she first moved in, knowing that they knew. Now, it was just a matter of fact. It’s how life was. She had no problems with any of it anymore.
“So,” she began, feeding him a bite of her toast, “what’s on the schedule for today?”
He was just about to answer when the cell phone rang. “Lee?” he offered. However, his eyes met with hers and he took the phone from his ear and handed it to her. “Or Seth perhaps?” he teased.
Taking the phone, she put on a false aggravated tone. “Do you EVER just have lazy mornings with your wife? You know, sleep in late? Have sex instead of your morning coffee?” She winked at Bruce, who didn’t color nearly as much as he would have in the past.
“We have sex quite often, Miss Nosey,” Seth quipped jokingly. “How often and when though, I don’t think I should delve into when I’m acting as ‘your boss’.”
She laughed at that. “Okay, okay, Boss. No sex talks while we’re talking business.”
He shook his head, smiling. And although she couldn’t see it, she heard his soft chuckle. “The photographer from L’Oreal came by yesterday and scouted out a few places. I know it was a bit rough for you yesterday, but he’s here in town and would really like to get some shots of you in a few places. He told Alex the snow is perfect right now and is worried that if we don’t get the pictures now, we’ll miss the opportunity.”
Glancing up at the clock, she sighed. “What time do I need to be there and where am I going?”
“He’d like to get started right away. Your trailer is already being taken to the spot and I’ll drive by and pick you up. No need for you to have to drive when I have to drive by the Manor to get there anyway.”
“Where is it?” she asked, getting up and going to the closet to grab her white jacket and white leather pants.
“There’s a wooded grove about two miles north of the Manor. He says it’s perfect. Have you ever been there?”
“Yeah,” she answered, moving to the other side of the closet to get out her white sweater with the high turtleneck collar. She dropped it on the bed with the jacket and the pants before grabbing her white boots. Something had told her to wear the white lace undergarment set today, this was why. “Bruce and I went there this fall. It has a nice little area for picnics. People sometimes fish in the lake.”
“That’s the place. The trailer will be there when we arrive.”
Resting the cell phone on her shoulder, she leaned her head against it and continued to talk to him as she dressed. However, her eyes found Bruce’s and she smiled wickedly as she slowly changed clothes. “I would actually feel better if you did come and pick me up.” She had completely disrobed, except for her underwear, and put on her pants. She sat down to put on her socks and boots.
She didn’t even flinch when she felt Bruce come to sit beside her, merely smiled. “How long do you think he’ll need me for? I really don’t want to be out in the cold for hours.” She stood and pulled the phone away from her ear long enough to give Bruce a soft kiss. Putting the phone back to her ear, she repeated, “Three hours. That better include set up and take down time.”
“It’s a full spread they want, Gracie.”
“Fine,” she sighed. “I may just play temperamental supermodel today though. I don’t mind the cold, but being out in it for three hours, well, that’s not fun. I’ll see you in a few.”
“I’m on my way.”
With that, she hung up the phone.
“Something come up?” Bruce asked, handing her the sweater. For some reason, he enjoyed watching her dress almost as much as he did watching her undress.
“The photographer from L’Oreal showed up yesterday.” She relayed to him the rest of the story. “So, of course, I’m bound contractually to complete this spread when he deemed it most advantageous. And that would be today, of course.” She picked up the jacket and put it on, not surprised when Bruce stood and zipped it for her.
“Then you should go,” he said. “I think I can occupy myself with something.”
Her arms went around his neck and she kissed him tenderly. “He wants three hours of my time. That’s in front of the camera. It takes about an hour to get ready. So I’ll be gone most of the day.” Her tone was almost apologetic.
“It’s ok,” he said, placing a kiss on her nose. “You smile pretty for them and then I’ll see you later.”
She kissed him again.
They walked together to the door and sure enough, Seth was there waiting for her. Another kiss and a hug, and Grace was off to the races. She really loathed short notice like this. But at least it kept her from thinking that she might be followed. That someone was out there watching her and waiting for her to be alone.
As they drove off the property, it was exactly this that Seth addressed. “You gonna be okay, Gracie? I know Courtney said you were pretty shaken up yesterday.” He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her upper arm. “I’m not going to leave you. I already told Alex I’d be with you all day today.”
She sighed, relieved beyond words. “I’ll be fine now,” she said with a smile. “It’s just creepy, you know? Knowing he was out there, watching everything I did.”
“But not anymore. This afternoon will go quickly, I promise.”
She nodded, thankful that he was going to be there with her. It would make the afternoon go easily.
*-*-*
After Grace left, Bruce finished his breakfast –a piece of toast and coffee– on his way down to the basement. He plopped down in front of the computer and was accessing the police database when Alfred showed up. A split screen of Hammer and Deetz with their criminal histories glowed back at him as he hit the print button.
“More research, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked. They had been unable to dig up anything on the two councilmen as of yet. Bruce still had hopes, though.
“I followed them last night. I got a tip that they worked for Thorne. I’m beginning to believe it’s a possibility.”
“A tip from whom, sir?” Alfred reached for Bruce’s empty coffee cup, sounding politely concerned.
“Officer Harris. Batman paid him a visit a last night,” Bruce countered, amazed at how easy it was to think of his alter ego as another person entirely.
“Indeed, sir. The information is reliable then?” It didn’t sound like Alfred doubted Bruce’s judgment, just trying to make him think about it on his own.
Bruce nodded and was about to answer aloud when his cell phone rang. “Wayne,” he answered when the display pulled up a number he didn’t recognize.
“Bruce, old man! This is Arnold Fitzgerald; we spoke Monday?”
They had spoken on Monday and it hadn’t been a very productive meeting.
“Of course, Arnold,” Bruce answered, though his tone turned wary. “What can I do for you?”
“I was considering what you said, and I was hoping we could meet today.” Bruce frowned. This is what he had Lee for. Which he was about to tell the man when he added, “Do you think you could meet me for lunch at Decadence… say, around one?”
The reprimand died on Bruce’s lips. Decadence was the club he’d followed Hammer and Deetz to last night. “I think that can be arranged,” he told Fitzgerald before ending the transmission.
His next move was to call Lee and let him know he was going to be busy that afternoon.
*-*-*
Bruce arrived nearly forty-five minutes early for his lunch date.
Decadence was very upscale, which was why it had thrown him when Hammer and Deetz had gone there in the first place. The restaurant on the ground level was the finest French cuisine. Checking his coat at the door, he ordered a drink and waited at the bar for Fitzgerald to show up. While he waited, he watched people arriving and leaving the
restaurant. He recognized too many faces and hoped it didn’t mean anything more than they just liked the food.
He also noticed several people coming and going from a hallway just past the restrooms. When the activity in that quarter slowed, he got up, asking the bartender for directions to the restrooms. After a few minutes of watching that corridor, he decided it might be a good idea to check it out.
Flagging down a waiter, he again asked where the restrooms were and was promptly given directions he didn’t really need. He wandered off in that general direction, but pointedly walked past the clearly marked doors while pretending to study various paintings on the walls. They were cheap reprints, nothing special, but they provided an excuse, should it come down to that. He turned the corner and followed the corridor. It ended strangely in a service door.
He pushed it open, and found himself facing another hallway, this one bare and devoid of the club’s decorations. Bruce followed it to an unmarked door. Locked. He should have expected as much. Turning back, he went back up the corridor. He was reaching out to open the door, however, when he heard voices from the other side. He moved instantly to the side of the door, pressing his ear into the wall so he could listen.
“Harris was out and about last night,” he heard a voice say. “He’s always sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“Don’t worry about Harris. His time’s coming,” another voice added. They sounded familiar, but Bruce couldn’t place them. The voices went on to talk about a drop, but Bruce wasn’t sure what was being delivered. Money, drugs… they mentioned times but no dates or places. Then another voice, further off in the distance called out and
they withdrew from the vicinity of the door. He waited until he was sure no one was out there and re-entered the main corridor.
He was just coming around the corner when he ran smack into the bartender, who eyed him warily. “Did you find the restrooms, sir?” he asked.
“Sorry,” Bruce said. “I was just looking at your paintings here –trying to figure out who painted them– and got a little turned around.” He looked around and caught sight of the men’s room sign and managed to look properly embarrassed. “There it is,” he said, laughing at himself. He felt the bartender’s eyes on him as he stepped inside. By the time he came out of the men’s room, Fitzgerald was there waiting for him at the bar.
“Bruce, old man!” he greeted and Bruce had to squelch the urge to frown. He hated being called ‘old man.’ Especially by this man.
“Arnold.”
“I hear you got lost just now,” Fitzgerald commented as the hostess showed them to a table. He seemed interested.
Bruce shrugged, and affected a self-conscious air. “I’m terrible with directions. I, ah, actually get lost in my house all the time. Still.” He made it sound like he was sharing some deep secret.
“Well, Wayne Manor *is* quite vast,” Fitzgerald said, excusing Bruce a little. “I’m sure no one could come to know it all in one lifetime.”
“No, of course not.” Bruce reached for the menu and scanned it. He hated this part of the game… the schmoozing and the being nice. “You said something about reconsidering what we discussed on Monday?” he said after the waitress took their order.
Fitzgerald chuckled. “Now, this is what I like about you, Bruce. You’re to the point.” He paused, and then said, “I’m not sure that reconsider is quite the right term.”
“Then, what exactly would be quite the right term?” Bruce asked, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.
“Bruce…” the man began. “You know, I have all the respect for you in the world. Your father was a good man, a pillar of the community. I know you’re trying to following in his footsteps, but you have to face facts. You’re not him and Mayor Blaire is setting up to run the city as a police state. You’d be foolish to consider allying yourself with such a man.”
The waitress was just bringing their drinks when Bruce stood up. “Is everything alright, sir?” she asked.
“Yes, everything’s fine,” he told her. “I wish to cancel my order, though.” To Fitzgerald, he directed a cold gaze. “I don’t suppose I’d honor my father any more by allying myself with the man whose business it is to employ the types of people who made his death possible?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, but turned and strode from the restaurant. It wasn’t until he was in the limo that he realized he could have handled that better. If he’d been wise enough to string Fitzgerald along, he might have gotten further information. He sighed; Alfred was always calling him impulsive.
*-*-*
“Want to talk about it?” Seth asked as he pulled the Jeep back onto the road and headed toward the Manor. The photographer L’Oreal had used had been a last minute replacement, and no one had informed Seth or Grace that this would be happening.
She’d frozen upon first seeing him. Seth understood why. Philip had been a friend of Bill’s. When Seth had discussed the details with Alex, the man had made no mention of the replacement photographer. To Seth, it seemed that was a detail that should have been mentioned, especially knowing it was Grace who was modeling.
Inwardly, Seth was seething. Outwardly, he was the epitome of calm. Calm was what she needed. “It’s okay to be upset, you know? It’s okay to be angry. I take full responsibility for this, hon.”
“It’s over,” she said softly. “But that man will never take another picture of me again.”
“He won’t,” Seth agreed. “You have my word.”
“The only reason why I stayed today was because you were with me. Otherwise, I would have left and they could have tried to sue me. Philip is a scum. I know how he treats models. He was decent because you were there.” She shivered. “He just makes my skin crawl.”
Seth heard the quiver in her voice and knew if anyone other than Alex had made the error, they’d be looking for a new job. Although ultimately it was his fault. “I’m very sorry, Gracie Lou.”
“It’s okay,” she said, as she closed her eyes and rested her head against the seat of the car. “And don’t be too hard on Alex, please. He didn’t know Philip and Bill were friends.”
“Grace,” Seth’s voice grew quiet as he contemplated exactly how he wanted to broach this with her. The lowering of his voice was the only indication he gave of his anger. “I have made it very clear, on more than one occasion, that any changes in YOUR schedule are to be cleared through me. I should be able to depend on Alex to follow through with that. But right now, he’s so focused on other things that he didn’t do what he was supposed to. When I say every change to your schedule, I mean every change. And I will again make that very clear to him.”
“But he’s your friend, my friend, it wasn’t intentional on his part.”
“The only reason why he is getting to keep his job is because he’s my friend.” He pulled the Jeep over and turned to face her. “My standards are a bit higher than the ones at the agency you worked for in New York. And given what you’ve gone through… with the last agency… just last week…” he paused for a long moment and sighed, “I promised you that I would take care of you. When you came back to the business, I swore this would be stress free for you. Today was not stress free. And I failed to keep a promise to you. Friend or not, there are consequences to his actions. I apologize to you, Gracie. And you can trust that this will NEVER happen again.”
She watched him for the longest time. His jaw was set into a hard line, but his eyes spoke of how upset he was… upset that she had been stressed… upset that he felt he hadn’t followed through with a promise… and upset with Alex for letting his personal life affect the way he was doing his job. But Grace understood what it was like to lose yourself in someone. Seth… unlike her and Alex… had always been able to keep the two separate. When Courtney became sick, he took a leave because separating the two would be impossible, and it was best for the agency if he took a Family leave. So that’s what he’d done. No, Seth kept business and personal life separate. And when he got back to the agency, Alex was going to get a reminder that that’s how it should be done. “It’s really fine, Seth. I’m not angry or hurt or upset with anyone. I’m just… tired, I suppose. It’s been an emotional few days. And what I really wanted to do was stay home with Bruce today and forget the outside world existed.”
“How are things going with Bruce?” he asked casually, pulling back onto the road.
His name caused her to smile. “He’s the best part of all of this. He’s been right by my side, supporting, comforting, loving. He’s wonderful. You know, I never want him to use his ‘name’ to pull strings or get special favors for me… but he had the police come to us so I could press charges.”
Seth smiled. Seemed Bruce was genuine in what he’d said to him the other day. “That’s good, Gracie. You didn’t need the mess that would have accompanied you going to the police station. And I’m very glad to see you smile when his name is mentioned. I sure would have hated to add his name to the list of asses to chew.”
That statement caused her to laugh a little, the smile returning to her face. “You don’t need to chew Bruce’s ass. I’ll nibble on it later,” she joked.
Laughing at that, he looked at the road and shook his head. “I have little doubt that you will. You nasty girl, you.”
“Oh like you don’t like that kind of thing yourself. Courtney and I talk, you know?” He pulled up to the gate and leaned back so Grace could reach out his window and enter the code. Sitting back in her seat, she confided, “I’m not going to tell Bruce about this. At least, I’m not planning to. It’s done and over. I just want to move on.”
“And, like I said, it will never happen again. I swear.” And that was the truth because though Alex wasn’t going to lose his job, he’d just lost Grace. There was no reason for that kind of mistake to happen. Not only was Grace the agency’s biggest draw, she was also the one that had the most history. And the models were the faces for the ads the agency created, and if Grace was uncomfortable… well… to Seth that was just unacceptable. Stopping at the front door, he said, “You take care, hon. Have a good afternoon.”
She didn’t respond at first, merely looked at the Manor. The huge building loomed over her and all she could think of was ‘Home’. “I imagine Bruce is gone,” she said absentmindedly, “so I’m going to workout and take a nice long soak in the hot tub. A very long soak actually.”
“Grace?” Seth broached with caution. He knew Courtney had said Bruce had asked Grace not to question, but Seth had a hard time comprehending how she couldn’t. “Up until a few months ago, Bruce was running one of the largest corporations in the world. That took a lot of his time, but he still had days where he could do nothing but be with you. Now…”
“I don’t know,” she interrupted, “I don’t know what he’s doing.”
“Aren’t you even curious?”
“Yes,” she answered honestly. “But I promised him I wouldn’t ask, and I won’t. For the most part, he’s lobbying. I do know he’s taken an interest in making sure Miles’ crime bill gets passed.”
“But to be gone at two in the morning. That’s not lobbying, hon.”
“He asked me to trust him,” she answered, trying to be calm about it. She didn’t completely understand why Bruce felt he couldn’t share whatever it was with her, but she accepted it because she had to. “And I do trust him, Seth. When the time is right for him, he’ll tell me. But now isn’t the time. I think he believes I’m safer not knowing… for whatever reason. And my safety is tantamount to him…” Here her voice got quiet, “So much so that I think it’s why he asked me to leave four months ago. I’ve just gotten everything back that I lost. And if he asks me not to ask about this one thing, I’m not going to. Bottom line… I trust him. He asked me not to ask on the basis of that trust.”
Seth nodded. Sometimes it was difficult for him to understand. He held Grace briefly but tightly as she impulsively hugged him. He smiled at her when she asked again not to be so hard on Alex. And after exchanging goodbyes, he watched as she walked into the Manor.
Driving home, it was still on his mind though. He and Courtney shared everything. Happiness, fear, anger, love. They discussed things… even argued on occasion. In their year of marriage, she’d even made him sleep on the couch once. But they still shared everything. Maybe it was the cancer and everything that went with it. She’d almost died, but for the extremely radical, experimental therapy, she would have.
No one knew how close she’d come. No one knew that during her second surgery, she’d flatlined twice. No one knew about the side effects, especially the one that made Courtney cry some nights. No one knew that she would have to return to New York about every six months for the next five years to have tests to make sure the cancer hadn’t returned. No one knew the connections Seth had to use to make all this possible… No one knew how much he’d hurt thinking he was going to lose her… thinking that they’d probably be denied the right to grow old together. No one understood how he could have been so angry with Bruce for leaving like he did.
Except Courtney. She knew!
She knew everything about his friend and the research his corporation sponsored. She knew why he and Seth had become so close.
No one else did…
Not even Alex.
But it had all come from his love for Courtney. And he did love her… he needed her to know that he was the one person she could depend on completely. His mother had never been able to depend on his father. He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes that man did. So yeah, he shared everything with her.
Then he paused… thinking about Grace… and that night. He hadn’t shared that.
Still…
It was difficult for him to understand why Bruce kept secrets from Grace. The one he kept was something that Grace should have the responsibility of sharing should SHE decide it needed to be shared… but Bruce… leaving her alone at all hours of the night. It didn’t make sense. If he loved her so much and if she was truly the one for him, why didn’t he share?
Pulling into the parking lot of his office building, he got out of his Jeep and sighed. Different couples did things differently, he supposed.
*-*-*
Bruce didn’t go back to the Manor right away. Well, at least not the main living areas. He did, however, go straight to the basement where he could listen to the tape he’d made when he realized what he’d stumbled across in that corridor. He wanted to make a copy to take to Chad and then preceded to run tests on the original hoping to find anything that would indicate who was speaking. It was well past the time when Grace should have been home when he finally came back upstairs.
He found Grace in her bedroom, lying on the bed in her robe. Her hair was damp, which meant she’d obviously taken a shower and had probably worked out already as well. She didn’t seem to notice him at first, as her mind was on the television and that interior decorating show she liked so much. He couldn’t remember the name of it.
At the commercial, she looked up at the door to find him leaning against the doorframe.
She smiled widely at seeing him and was off the bed in a hot second.
Ty’s latest antics with the wood glue were completely forgotten at the sight of Bruce standing in her doorway. “You’re home!” she beamed, closing the distance between them and hugging him tightly. She hadn’t been willing to truly admit it to herself, but she missed him. Sure, they had only been apart for a few hours, but she’d missed him anyway. Her problematic afternoon and the stress that went with it seeped away with the sweat of her workout and the soak in the hot tub. The rerun of Trading Spaces was a comfortable distraction until Bruce got home. So the smile she gave him was a genuine one. She was simply very happy
to see him.
She nestled her head in his neck and sighed happily. ”I missed you,” she said, giving him a squeeze for emphasis.
“I missed you, too,” he said, realizing as soon as he said it how true it was. Only a few hours had passed since he’d last held her, but the contents of those hours had made him wish he’d stayed in bed. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer to him, and felt the tension seep from his body. He was going to love Friday… staying home with her and going skating. Being utterly irresponsible, if only for a moment.
“Your day was good?” he asked, leaning in to claim a small kiss. They were still standing in the doorway, but he didn’t care if anyone –were there anyone there to eavesdrop– saw their embrace.
She thought about that for a moment. In retrospect, and given perspective, it wasn’t great but she’d gotten through it. So she looked up at him and her smile was genuine when she said, “Yep, it was fine. Cold… windy… But my lips aren’t chapped and neither are my cheeks, so it was fine.” She pulled away just enough to take him by the hand and lead him into the room. She did, however, feel up to a little cuddling.
Grabbing up her remote, she happily clicked off Hildi and her team arguing over the wall color and sat on the bed, pulling him with her.
When they were situated, and she hoped he was comfortable, she snuggled in again and asked, “How was your day?”
Bruce rested against the pillows on her bed, pulling her into his arms. Holding her, feeling the warmth of her body seeping through her and into him. At the mention of his day, however, he frowned and his arms tightened around her as he tensed more noticeably this time. Which, of course, made the fact that his day had not gone at all well very obvious. Which, of course, he hadn’t meant to make known to Grace. It was a little thing, what Fitzgerald had said. Nothing to get worked up over at all, or even let grate on his mind for more than the minute it’d taken for him to walk out of the restaurant. And yet, it did bother him, and it was grating on his nerves. What the man had said was
an insult, and it had hurt so badly.
She looked up at the feel of tension in his body. He wasn’t necessarily looking at her as he was looking through her, at some unseen event that had happened in the few hours they were separated.
Moving up so her head was more even with his, she lightly touched his cheek and turned his face so that he had to look at her.
There was no doubt about it now, from that look in his eyes, she knew… he was hurting. And just that fact brought out her urge to take care of him. She shifted again so that he could relax against her… if he felt the need to be held instead of doing the holding.
“What happened?” she asked softly, hoping he’d talk to her.
“I had a lunch meeting with one of the councilmen,” he admitted, feeling certain that Alfred would have told her that much when she’d returned from her shoot. He also knew that she knew he’d had lots of meetings with councilmen recently, and none of them had upset him as this one had.
He held her, aware of her holding him in return, and tried to relax into her warmth. He couldn’t, however, as Fitzgerald’s words about his father came crashing back into his mind. The words stung anew. What if Fitzgerald was right? What if, in some way, he was letting his father down? At his age, his father was a successful businessman. He’d been unable to run the company on his own and had handed it back over to his advisors. He told himself it was because it was bigger now, more complex, and he had so many obligations. Fitzgerald’s implication was that he would sink the company. Would he? Was he already?
And then he felt anger at himself for even thinking such a thing. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and his eyes settled on Grace, the concern in her eyes very plainly seen. How he’d lived the last few months without her was amazing to him. He needed her love and the comfort it brought.
She rested her hand on his cheek, her eyes searching his. Whatever had happened at this lunch meeting had not gone well. And in her experiences with him, very few things hit him on this level. So the question was, which button did the man push? Courtney? Her? His choices with his past lifestyle? His parents?
Leaning forward she placed a soft kiss on his forehead and then one on each eye before pulling away. Her face was very close to his as she asked, “What did he say?” Maybe she couldn’t say or do anything to make it better, but she could give it a try. She would help him in any way she could. ”You can talk to me… anything… What did he say?”
“He said…” he held her eyes and knew from her reaction that she saw his pain and confusion. “He… implied that I have been doing my parents –my father– a disservice by… in how I’m…” he choked up and stopped speaking. His eyes screwed tightly shut and for a moment he saw his parents falling dead in alley. It was an alley he saw much of during the long nights. He thought he was doing the right thing. The nightly excursions, his daily lobbying. He knew he couldn’t bring them back, but he’d always felt as if he needed to do something to make up for being naught but a helpless child that night. In his mind, he heard his mother’s screams and he buried his face in Grace’s robe out of instinct.
Her hands went into his hair and she held him to her breast for several long moments. ”Bruce…” she said his name softly. ”The last thing you could ever be is a disservice to your parents.” She felt a sudden rush of rage toward this man who had said these things to him. She had half a mind to call Courtney and send her over to have a few ‘words’ with the councilman… whoever he was.
She continued to hold him, softly comforting him, wishing there were magic words that could take away his anguish. “Bruce, there is no way your parents would be anything other than proud of you. Your parents ran Wayne Industries, but baby, your parents weren’t Wayne Industries. Your parents were about family, life, and love. And with the man you’ve grown up to be… they are proud of you.” She paused for another long moment, to let her words sink in and to collect some other thoughts.
“And here’s something else… politics… it’s a cold, hard world.
And what that man said, he said to hurt you. And it’s obvious he didn’t know your father at all. And he doesn’t know you. I do! I think I know you better than just about anyone… and what you’re doing… all the people you’re protecting by helping Miles with the crime bill… Your father would be proud. So would your mother. I’m proud of you.” She sat back, and merely held him… giving him time to absorb it all.
He didn’t saying anything for several minutes, just let himself get lost in the comfort offered by her arms. Her hands were in his hair, stroking gently. Her robe was soft on his cheek. And there was comfort taking away a small part of the pain.
Her words were a comfort to him. He knew she said them out of love and because she believed in him. But the ache in his heart was still there. Oh, god, how it was still there! And would probably never ease, for as long he lived. This, he knew, was how he understood Grace when she said she blamed herself for her mother leaving… the endless nights of ‘what could I have done?’ that turned into –at least for him– ‘what can I do to make up for living without them?’ She knew, every bit as much as he did, the pain and not knowing how to make it right. And she knew there was no real way to that.
“Grace,” he said softly, and the word was muffled against her robe. “Please, just hold me, Grace,” he begged her. “Please, I just need you to hold me for a while. I know…” He knew she was right; he knew he shouldn’t let the words of someone like Fitzgerald hurt him like this,
but they had. “Please…”
“Okay,” she said softly, gathering him up even more closely to her.
She dropped one arm from his hair and moved in down to his back, her cheek resting lightly on the top of his head. She simply held him as he asked, and soon he stopped asking her to just hold him. What could she do? What could she say to make it better? Her eyes slipped closed. Nothing. She had said all the clichés, told him everything her father had told her about Judy… ‘She’ll always love you,’ he’d said. ‘It’s not your fault, Gracie.’ But the sting hadn’t gone away. It had stayed and periodically it would rear its ugly head.
But for Bruce it was different. His parents hadn’t just up and left him one day. They’d been murdered, right in front of his eyes. And for that traumatized boy to grow up into the man he was today… it was a miracle he knew how to love and feel at all. Yet he did. She thought to say just that to him, but instead, just sat and held him as he’d asked. Somewhere out there within the realm of their friends and ‘family’, there was someone who could help alleviate his pain. She didn’t think it was Courtney… her personal brand of consolation probably wasn’t what he needed.
She began to rock slowly; it was a barely perceptible movement.
Miles… There were things Miles knew that could help. And Bruce looked up to Miles in a way he looked up to no one else. Maybe…
Without realizing it, she began to slowly hum. Why she thought to sing, she wasn’t sure. It was a comfort… at least to her she always found solace in music… poetry that was expressed in song:
“I can’t imagine, any greater fear
Then wakin’ up, without you near
And though the sun, would still shine on
My whole world, would all be gone
But not for long
If I had to run
If I had to crawl
If I had to swim a hundred rivers
Just to climb a thousand walls
Always know that I would find a way
To get to where you are
There’s no place that far
It wouldn’t matter, why we’re apart
The lonely miles or two stubborn hearts
And nothing short, of God above
Could turn me away, from your love
I need you that much
If I had to run
If I had to crawl
If I had to swim a hundred rivers
Just to climb a thousand walls
Always know that I would find a way
To get to where you are
There’s no place that far
Oh if I had to run
(if I had to run)
If I had to crawl
(If I had to crawl)
If I had to swim a hundred rivers
Just to climb a thousand walls
Always know that I would find a way
To get to where you are
There’s no place that far
Baby there’s no place that far”
She let her voice fade away and continued to hum. She simply held him tightly to her and hummed.
Bruce clung to her as she sang, his mind focusing not so much on the words, but the way she sang them. With Grace, music and poetry were a part of their lives, of how they communicated things that were too hard to say in mere words. Her voice held love, comfort, need… things Bruce needed right now more than anything else. When she’d hummed through the tune a second time, all the while rubbing his back, he looked up at last. His eyes were, as if he’d been crying, but his cheeks were dry… a sure sign that he had not. At least not physically.
“Thank you,” he whispered as he let their eyes find each other. His voice was shaky, as well. Softly, he kissed her cheek. “I don’t know what my life was like without you, Grace. I really don’t.” He kissed her other cheek and then rested his head on her again, cuddling closer.
Grace let him, and soon he’d drifted off into a light sleep. He was still dozing when Alfred cracked the door to check on them. The butler caught Grace’s eye, and the vulnerable way that Bruce held her and knew all there was to know.
The butler made his way to the den and picked up the phone. He dialed, and listened as the phone rang, hoping to catch the person he was trying to reach and not the man’s wife. Miles Blaire answered on the fifth ring of the phone.
“I am sorry to interrupt so close to meal time, Mr. Blaire,” Alfred said after a brief greeting. “But it concerns Master Bruce.” That was all he really needed to say, as Alfred knew that Gotham’s mayor loved Bruce every bit as much as he did.
*-*-*
After a very brief conversation with Alfred, Miles hung up the phone and stood at the table. Inside the dining room, Seth was telling Connie and Courtney an office joke. The women’s genuine laughter floated out to him. Seth had a way with Constance… a way that few others did.
Looking up, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He was a lucky man, very blessed. His wife, daughter, and son-in-law were in the dining room… healthy and happy. And Alfred had called him when his son needed him. Inhaling deeply, he went into the dining room to make his excuses, saying that something came up at City Hall and demanded his immediate attention.
His driver was waiting by the door when he exited, but he didn’t give the driver instructions until he got in the car. ”Wayne Manor,” he said curtly.
*-*-*
The gate was open when he arrived and Alfred met him at the door.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Mayor Blaire” Alfred said by way of greeting. ”Master Bruce…”
“Should I wait downstairs or just go on up?” Miles questioned… before Alfred could answer he added, “And I’m glad you called me Alfred. I’m honored you did.”
“I’ll go get him for you, Mayor.” With that, Alfred moved up the stairs and headed for Miss Grace’s room. Opening the door slowly, he cleared his throat. ”I do beg your pardon, Miss Grace. But Mayor Blaire is here to see Master Bruce.”
Smiling at the older man, she lightly shook Bruce to wake him. ”Bruce, love, Miles is here to see you.”
“Miles?” Bruce sat up slowly, bringing himself to awareness. He looked first from Grace to Alfred in an attempt to figure out why Miles would be here when he would otherwise be at home with his family. He wondered briefly if he’d missed a meeting with the Mayor, but couldn’t recall having one scheduled. “Did he say why he was here?” he asked Alfred, who merely shook his head and did not reveal a thing.
He tried to apologize to Grace for having to leave, but she merely shooed him out the door. As he headed to his room to wash up his face a bit and make himself seemingly presentable, he missed the look that passed between Grace and Alfred.
A few minutes later, he found Miles in the den –his father’s old den– standing in front of the fireplace. Over the mantel hung a portrait that Bruce was so used to, he barely noticed it on most days. The fact that today Miles chose to be looking up at it as Bruce entered the room gave the simple family portrait an essence of importance.
“Miles,” Bruce greeted, or rather, interrupted, for the other man seemed lost in thought as he examined the picture of young Bruce with his parents. The child in the portrait sat atop his father’s knee as if squirming to get down and run.
“I remember the day your mother unveiled this portrait,” he started, not looking back at the younger man. Alfred had filled him in on all the details of the conversation with Arnold Fitzgerald. So, Miles began not with that conversation, but another one. ”We were having dinner here… the six of us. You and Courtney were sitting by the fireplace in the main living room reading Dr. Seuss books. I think it was ‘Green Eggs and Ham’. You were laughing at the thought of ham being green. Courtney thought the eggs were disgusting.” He smiled at the memory, though he wasn’t sure if Bruce was still standing behind him or had moved to the side so he could see his profile.
His face was on the portrait. ”This was sitting on a portrait stand… we were all drinking champagne. Your mother stood and told us we were going to be the first to see it. When she and your father lifted the cloth off the canvas, I remember thinking… now that’s a family full of love. Thomas said you wanted to get at the artist’s paints and make your own picture. I can’t remember what your mother said she told you exactly… but she smiled when she said you looked at her and grinned, then sat still for quite a while.”
He finally turned to look at the younger man. ”She always used to say, all you had to do was smile at her and her heart melted.” His face was the picture of honesty… and more. He let his emotions for Bruce show through. ”You were the world to them. Not an heir… not the continuation of a family name. There weren’t two parents more in love with their child than yours were with you.” He turned back to the portrait. ”This portrait always epitomized that to me.”
While Miles had spoke, he’d come further into the room and was now standing just to the right and behind the mayor. “I remember the paints,” he said. He didn’t, however, remember what his mother had said to make him sit still for all that time or the night they unveiled it. He didn’t remember ‘Green Eggs and Ham’ with Courtney. Almost twenty years had passed since he’d sat with his parents for that
portrait. It seemed so long ago now, although Miles seemed to remember it as if it were yesterday.
Sometimes, he felt guilty for that… guilty that the years were robbing him of memories he felt he should keep. Like this one: he remembered the paints and being bored, but remembered nothing of what his parents had said or done to ease that boredom. And he *always* felt guilty for not remembering having known Courtney as a child. As close as they were now, and had always been, he couldn’t understand how he could forget having known her before. Miles, he knew, had pictures of a young Courtney ‘holding’ Bruce as a baby. He’d seen it once or twice when Courtney was in one of her ‘let’s embarrass Bruce a little’ moods. He was in a blue one-piece sleeper with a yellow duck on the front, small and red-faced. Courtney was in a frilly dress, her red hair in two pigtails tied in ribbons. He’d been propped up against her legs and looked like he was making ready to scowl. Knowing Nee, she’d pinched him. She would’ve done something like that to a baby.
But pictures aside, Bruce didn’t remember those events. Not that he’d have remembered from when he was a baby, but the other? The story Miles had just told? He should have, he thought.
But Miles hadn’t, he was sure, come here just to comment on a painting in a room Bruce only used on occasion. “Is there something I can do for you, Miles?” He asked, although the look in the man’s eyes spoke only of a deep concern. “Shouldn’t you be with your family?” The question was gently asked, Bruce was curious as to what would bring Miles here during what Bruce knew were traditional family hours.
Miles turned so that the portrait was to his side now and he was looking directly at Bruce. The mayor’s face was the picture of complete concern and full of the emotions he felt for the young man standing in front of him. He knew Bruce didn’t remember much of the story he’d just shared… the trauma… Bruce’s young age had all conspired against the young man to rob him of such memories. “Actually, Bruce,” again the word came out as an endearment, “I was hoping it was something I could do for you.” His voice then took on a tone very similar to Courtney’s when she was in full comforting mode. For all her brashness, when it came to taking care of Bruce, she was extremely sensitive. She got that from her father. ”And I do believe, I’m with my family.”
It took a moment of weighty silence before the full extent of what the man had said hit Bruce. Miles considered him family. He’d come to feel much the same for the man before him. Long talks in the past few years, mostly about his parents, had formed a bond between them that felt somehow fitting. He was comfortable with Miles in the same way he was with Courtney, whom he considered a sister. Those feelings, however, Bruce had always ‘known’ they were shared, had always remained unspoken between them, until now.
He smiled a weak but sincere smile. “I take it Alfred spoke to you, then?” Alfred cared for him, too, those his relationship was more like that of an uncle or some other elder relative who wasn’t a father, mostly because the butler had never tried to replace Bruce’s parents. He merely made himself available to guide and comfort Bruce where he could. When he could. Earlier, Bruce had pushed aside what he’d felt about Fitzgerald’s comments in favor of trying to figure out the situation Batman had him in. Alfred had accepted his refusal to talk about it, but apparently had known that the wound had cut deeper than
Bruce had let on. He’d called Miles, hoping the other man could help where he could not.
Miles merely nodded. ”Yes, he called me, but I didn’t know the full extent of the conversation until I arrived and was waiting on you to join me. How about we sit?” he said, gesturing toward the couch that was in the den. Some things should be said standing; others should be said sitting. ”Let me tell you a few things I know,” he said as he sat, Bruce joining him. ”Fitzie is an amoral man. When we were on the council together, he made ‘suggestions’ that I befriend the ‘right’ people. Something I would never do. When I refused, he tried other means to get me to see things his way. It’s how he operates.”
He paused for a long moment. ”Something else… Arnold Fitzgerald and your father were NOT friends. Your father detested everything that man stood for. Your father was a good man, and being a good man is something that Fitzie never could and never will understand.” He looked Bruce straight in the eyes. ”And I’ll tell you this too… just like the story of that portrait… you have far surpassed your parents dreams and expectations. You do what you believe is right. You’re sensitive. Goodness knows Courtney isn’t always the easiest woman to love.” He smiled lightly at that. ”All they ever wanted was for you to be happy and to be a good man. And you are. You have a woman who loves you more than anything in this world. And you *do* have family.”
He reached out and touched Bruce’s shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Fitz doesn’t know a damn thing about what he’s talking about. Malicious words meant to strike at the heart of insecurities to get you to do things his way. But I do know what I’m talking about. They,” he said indicating his parents, “would have been proud of the man you’ve become. And for what it’s worth, Bruce, I am too.”
“Miles…” Bruce began and emotion choked his next words. He knew what Miles had said was meant out of friendship and out of the bond between them. They weren’t words bandied about to gain favors, like some people Bruce could name. Miles wasn’t a false man. He was honest, and his honesty was what touched Bruce the most. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’ve always… thought of you as family, too… you and Nee,” he admitted with much emotional difficulty. But even as he said the words, he felt better about it, as if his parents had sent some sign of approval.
More importantly, his heart knew Miles spoke with his parents’ tongues. They would have been proud of him, as Miles was proud of him. Although, Bruce had to admit that on more normal days, he knew that himself anyway. His parents had always tried to instill in him how to be a good person, although in his youth he didn’t always take their teachings to heart. He hadn’t realized –or even thought it a possibility– that they wouldn’t be around someday to listen to. He missed them, and there were few doubts in his mind that he always would. But his talks with Miles had always helped him to feel like he was connected to them still.
Miles gave his shoulder another squeeze before moving his arm to rest on the back of the couch. He knew what it took for Bruce to say the words he’d just said. He knew that Bruce oftentimes tried to hold ‘father’ figures at a distance because he, in some way, perceived it as a betrayal to his parents’ memory. But there were a lot of things Miles knew, things he’d not told Bruce, nor would he. Bruce would find them out, when and if the time was ever right.
Hearing the young man put voice to something he’d always felt, did more for him than just about anything he’d heard in a quite some time. ”You will always be family to us, Bruce. That’s one thing in your life you should never doubt. Courtney and I are always here for you. Alfred will be here for you. And Grace will always be here for you too. Your parents will forever live on through you and the love you share with those around you. You ever find yourself doubting… take a look at what you have.” He paused not meaning material possessions, and not clarifying because he knew Bruce understood. ”You do them a great honor.”
“Not everyone thinks so, apparently,” commented Bruce, but waved away Miles’ protest with his hand. “I know, I know,” he said instead. “I should know better than to let it get to me. I know how my father felt about fools like Fitzgerald.” He stressed the word ‘fools’ very heavily. “Sometimes, though, it feels like everyone has an opinion of how my parents would feel about me or my actions.” His voice was bitter. Sometimes, those opinions made him doubt himself. And, though he didn’t say it aloud, he knew Miles knew anyway. Like his daughter, Miles knew that sometimes fear seized Bruce and he worried he wasn’t living up to the potential his parents’ legacy had left him. He always felt stupid afterwards, after throwing everyone’s life out of alignment with his fears, but they never seemed to complain no matter how many times one of them sat there comforting him. Was it any wonder that of the people he counted as friends, Courtney and Miles, Grace and Alfred, were closest to his heart. Yes, he liked and respected Seth and it was true that Alex could make him laugh at times when it likely wasn’t appropriate. But it wasn’t the same closeness, nor would it ever be.
Miles nodded. ”Nope, you shouldn’t let their opinions bother you.
But they do… and they do because you’re human. But you know, I’m always here if you need to talk. Any time.” He paused for a long moment and just watched Bruce, gauging him. Deciding that he looked far better now than what he had when he first arrived, Miles gave him a small smile. “Another thing I’m serious about… ‘family dinner’… I’m going to have Eugenia call Lee first thing tomorrow. I want one evening… all six of you under one roof.” He smiled. ”Got a new toy
I want to share with you. Haven’t shown any of the others yet. Figured you might appreciate it more than they would. So it has to be soon, okay?” He smiled, eyes delighted at the thought of sharing his ‘toy’ with Bruce.
The excited look in the man’s eye made Bruce smile. “Toys are good,” he said with a merry wink. “I’ll make sure Lee knows to expect Eugenia’s call.” Which, of course, meant that he’d make sure Lee knew he wanted this call to be given top priority. The funny thing was, he thought maybe Lee might actually do as he asked this time. The man had taken it as some kind of honor to help Bruce and Grace out with the police and had been amazingly cooperative every since Bruce had asked. Of course, that had only been a couple of days, but he hadn’t complained when he’d called to say he wanted to completely clear Friday.
“What night are you thinking, off the top of your head?” he asked.
“As soon as is convenient for you. I try to keep my schedule clear past six. My evenings are generally mine unless an emergency arises.” He stood and waited for Bruce to stand as well. ”But I mean it, when I say I’m here, I’m here whenever. It’s what we do for each other. It’s what families do. And don’t worry about Fitzie… he wouldn’t know the ‘right thing’ if it smacked him upside the head.” Miles smiled. “Which I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had done. Give Gracie my love, okay?”
*-*-*
After Miles left, Bruce sat on the couch alone, lost in old thoughts and some new ones. He wasn’t as alone as he used be, he knew that now. Well, maybe he had always known it, but on a level that didn’t always connect with his brain. But Miles was right; he had family. Miles, Courtney, Grace… Seth, who was in all but truth his brother-in-law. He wasn’t sure what that made Constance, whom was in no way a mother figure to him, despite being married to the man Bruce was coming to look upon as a ‘father.’
He felt a tug of conscience at the thought. He did feel that way about Miles, and he felt certain his parents would understand, but he still missed them desperately. Like he told Grace earlier yesterday, nothing ever replaced the real thing.
He looked up at the portrait, wishing as he had nearly everyday of his life since their death that they were more than images in photographs and paintings. By now, he’d be learning the tricks of the family business with his father. Perhaps sitting here in this very room, discussing stocks and mergers over coffee while planning a trip to the golf course. His mother would be discussing tomorrow’s dinner with Alfred and their cook, or talking to Constance about planning some fundraiser. Or maybe she would be showing off old family albums to Grace, embarrassing him behind his back.
Not for the first time, he wondered if they would love Grace as much as he did. Would they welcome her into their lives, as her family had welcomed him? Would his father have smiled and said “she’s a good girl, Bruce” while his mother dropped hints about wedding bells and grandchildren? He didn’t doubt that they would –to know Grace was to love her. They would love her. Still, it would have been nice to hear it from them… to see them react to her. Not to have to guess with words like ‘would have.’
It would have been nice for them all to be a family.
And, now, it was as if he had another family. Not related, but every bit as important to him. In some ways, more so because of knowing what the alternatives were. He’d lived without anyone for so long. No parents, no brothers or sisters. Hardly any really close friends. And now, there was Courtney and Miles, and through them Grace, Seth, Alex. His family, his friends, the keepers of his heart. He would do anything to keep them.
*-*-*
Alfred had come up and told her when Miles left, and that according to the mayor, Bruce seemed to be on more solid footing. But when he didn’t come up right away, Grace went looking for him. She’d looked
in the library and the kitchen before remembering that Alfred had said
Miles and Bruce had talked in his father’s old den.
She found him sitting there on the couch. She had on her nightgown,robe and slippers, so she doubted that he even heard her enter. His eyes were locked on the portrait, his breathing as regular as it was when he meditated. Slowly, and ever so quietly, she slipped onto the couch beside him, her arms wrapping around his waist and her head
resting on his shoulder. It was a moment that didn’t require words… in fact, things were best left unsaid right now.
She wasn’t surprised, however, when his arms enveloped her and held her closely to him, his head resting on hers. She let him keep his thoughts, her own running along the lines of just how much she loved him, how blessed she was to have him back, and how wonderful it was tobe a ‘family’ again.
*-*-*
Chad dropped Spence of at the precinct and then headed back out on patrol. He’d really done his best to pretend like everything was okay… like he didn’t know that Spence was on the take. He was sure that news had filtered through Thorne’s people that Chad had ‘talked’ to Nicky. But, from the way Spence acted, they didn’t know what Nicky had said.
He parked the patrol car down the street from Hammer and Deetz’s hangout. He was going to talk to the Sergeant about perhaps taking on some plains clothes patrols after his shift. The Sarge, he was fairly certain, was on the straight and narrow, as he’d never denied Chad’s requests in the past. It was simply too hard to ‘watch’ in a marked squad car.
He took a sip of his lukewarm coffee and sat back in his seat. He watched patrons enter and exit the club. Finally, he saw Hammer and Deetz go in. Now all he had to do was wait for them to come out. Nicky had given cash to Spence last night. Perhaps tonight was a drop to Hammer and Deetz.
From the rooftop above the alley in which Chad’s patrol car now sat, Batman watched. He’d been there long enough to see Officer Harris pull into the alley without lights, as well as the arrival of Hammer and Deetz at the bar. Chad had, of course, been correct about their predictability. Thorne obviously needed better henchmen.
Using a grappling line, he dropped down into the alley behind Chad’s car and approached through the shadows. He knew he’d succeeded in going undetected when the police officer jumped, startled by his appearance at the passenger door of the car. Inwardly, he smiled at this reaction. He liked that someone so watchful could still be taken by surprise.
“Our friends went club hopping last night,” he said gruffly, without preamble, after Chad leaned over to unlock the passenger door and he was safely inside.
“They did, huh?” He shook his head. ”Did they show you anything interesting?” He relaxed back in his seat and picked up his coffee, thinking from now on he should actually buy two cups… one for when his trustworthy partner showed up.
“Did you see where they went? I’ve tagged them at a few other clubs… but this is their favorite.” He shook his head in disgust. ”Busted this place a couple times for illegal prostitution and cocaine. Such a wonderful joint.” He looked over at the caped figure. ”Thing is, there are other places in town that are just as bad, if not worse. This place,” he pointed to the joint, “it doesn’t front as anything other than what it is. Thorne has his hands in just about every sector of Gotham.”
Batman nodded his head once, either in agreement or acknowledgement. Thorne was like a weed; roots go deep and no amount of surface gardening can kill it. “Followed them up town, place called Decadence. If I’d realized the dress code was only for paying customers…” It was a dry sort of joke. Decadence did, in fact, have a very strict dress code, and it was one which Hammer and Deetz had not met last night when they were allowed inside. By all rights, they should have been turned away. “It’s fronting for something big,” he added, pulling the mini tape cassette from his utility belt. Holding it out, but not actually handing it to Chad, he said, “When you get the chance, see if you don’t recognize the voices.” He paused and then added, “You should also know… you come up in conversation… there.” He inclined his head to the tape.
Chad set his coffee on the dash and reached out for the tape. ”They put a hit out on me not too long ago. Shot the hell out of my car.” He paused, remembering that Spence had called in that night as well.
Odd, wasn’t it? ”I took a trip to the other side of town last night,” he started, taking the offered tape. ”Busted a trafficker named Nicky. He transports either dope or cash. The dope he delivers to Hammer and Deetz,” he said, looking back at the club. The second part… as if saying it… made it all too real. ”He delivers the cash to a man named Spence. A.K.A. Officer Spencer. My partner.”
He stashed the tape in his shirt pocket. ”Took everything I had not to call him on it tonight. But I don’t have enough on him. And I CAN’T get it without calling suspicion. We work too closely together.” He looked back at Batman, the pain being covered by the need to do this the right way. “Spence takes the cash to another henchman… higher up than he is… the man may even work closely to Thorne. I can’t follow him.” His eyes went back to the club. ”But he’s got a couple days off next week. I’d bet my life he’ll be doing more transporting then.”
It was something Batman –well, Bruce, really– could understand. Chad had trusted his partner, had no reason not to until last night. When trust like that was broken… And yet, his hands were tied by protocol and the need for secrecy to keep what they were doing quiet.
“Leave the rookie to me,” he told Chad, as unemotionally as he’d just delivered the information regarding the tape, though it pained him that one so soon out of the police academy could be bought and sold so quickly. Crooked cops made both his night and day jobs all that much harder. Young Officer Spencer had a lot to learn about the streets –and the world– still. He wouldn’t make it long at the rate he was going. And when he slipped up, Batman would be there to see to that he was exposed for the traitor that he was.
“Just a suggestion,” he began, letting a hint of concern into his voice. “You may want to exercise a little more caution after this.” He nodded to the tape in Chad’s pocket. He didn’t elaborate, but he wouldn’t have to. Chad would hear it for himself, and unlike his untested partner, Officer Harris knew the stakes all too well. He wouldn’t need to be told when to keep his head down, and judging from the way he handled his partner today, when to keep his
thoughts to himself.
Like the previous night, Batman left without another word, leaving it understood that when the time came, he’d seek Chad out. Knowing that Officer Harris had Hammer and Deetz under his watchful eye, he made his away across town to see who was giving Decadence their patronage that night.
*-*-*
Continued in Chapter Nine
