Preordained Chapter 6
Preordained
by DebC and Christina A
Summary: Bruce & Grace reunite after a painful 4-month separation and everyone’s lives are affected.
Chapter Six
Monday, January 17, 2005
Grace chewed thoughtfully on a piece of bacon while she waited for Bruce to get off the phone. The couple hadn’t even wondered why it hadn’t ringed at all last night. But, this morning, actually it was late morning because routine being routine… She smiled at the memory.
Returning to the present, they both realized that Alfred had given them a break and turned off the phones. They were both very thankful.
However, Bruce was paying for it this morning.
He hung up the cell, setting it down and offering her a small smile.
“It’s almost like Lee can’t survive without talking to me once an hour,” he said by way of explanation.
She smiled. “He’s your press secretary, guess he thinks it’s his job to know your business,” she teased. She was about to say something else when the cell AND the house phone rang again. Bruce answered the cell, and shortly thereafter, Alfred appeared with the house phone.
With an empathetic look on his face, he handed the phone to Grace. “If you would, Miss Grace, please tell Master Bruce he has a phone call. Mr. Merryweather again. He forgot an important detail and says the cell phone was busy when he tried to call.”
Grace sighed and nodded. When Bruce hung up the cell, she handed him the cordless. “Lee again,” she said softly.
“Make that once a minute,” was his sarcastic comment before pressing the phone to his ear. “You missed the sound of my voice all ready, Lee?” he asked in lieu of a real greeting. Soon, it became clear the Lee’s ‘one little detail’ was a whole book of little details. Bruce finally pushed away from the table and walked to the nightstand that often doubled as a desk and pulled out his day planner. “I’ve got it right here… yes… two o’clock… tomorrow.” He paused, and then added a confused, “what do you mean… today? When did that happen?” Another pause, and then his eyes narrowed. “Lee…” There was a warning in his voice. “We don’t reschedule appointments without confirming them with me.”
At this time, the cell phone rang yet again. Still listening to Lee’s excuse, which based on the rolling of his eyes was a doozy; Bruce nodded for Grace to answer it.
Grace picked it up off the table where Bruce had abandoned it and flipped up the cover. The display read ‘Meyers, Nee’ and Courtney’s home phone number.
Pushing the ‘talk’ button, Grace did her best impression of Bruce’s voice. “It’s your quarter,” she said.
A startled laugh was her response. “Very funny, O’Neil.”
“I thought so,” she said, looking over at Bruce and giving him a wink even as he looked more and more exasperated. “What’s up?”
“Not much. Seth seems to think that he needs to work on Mondays. I wanted to stay at home in bed like *some* people I know, but not my husband. Look, two things…” she said getting right to business, “first off, I did actually call to talk to Bruce… me being the nosey friend and all. But since you answered the phone…”
Grace mock-sighed. “I’ll have to do, I’m sorry. Lee is being VERY demanding this morning.”
“Good thing Lee knows his stuff.”
Grace nodded and then teased, “If he doesn’t honk Bruce off so much he loses his job, that is. But anyway… I answered the phone. How may I help you Mistress Courtney?”
She laughed in response. “We do have a bit of business to discuss, you know?” She thought for a moment. “Wanna meet me downtown? We can pop in on Dad, say hi, and then head out to lunch. He’s been wondering how you were.”
Bruce had just hung up the phone and was wandering back to the table. Eyeing him appreciatively, she said, “And tear myself away from this
Adonis who is approaching me? I don’t know that I can. My boyfriend is a bit different than your husband,” she teased. “Hold on.” Handing the phone to Bruce, she said, “Talk to this lunatic, please.”
Bruce took the phone, a wicked look crossing over his features. He’d caught enough of the phone call to know it was Courtney. “When did they start allowing phone calls in Arkham?” Instantly, the connection severed. He eyed the cell, then closed it and waited. Seconds later it rang again. Again, it was Courtney.
“Hello, Mrs. Meyers,” he sing-songed into the phone when he answered it. “What can I do for you on this beautiful mid-winter morning?”
“Take a flying leap into that outdoor pool of yours. Or…” she paused, actually enjoying the way he sounded. Happy. “Or just keep being a smartass, I expect nothing less. But just remember, you’ll get yours.”
Grace was trying hard not to burst out laughing. By the look on
Bruce’s face, she could only deduce that the lunatic was actually being either pushy or a steamroller. Probably both. What would this world be like without her in it? Grace was thankful she didn’t have to find that out. She waggled her brows at Bruce teasingly.
“I was going to ask, but you know, I may just demand now,” she teased.
“I want to steal your girlfriend… couple hours only. If you can tear yourself away that is?”
The house phone rang again and Grace answered it this time. “You do like taking your life into your own hands,” she said softly into the phone. Before Bruce could answer Courtney, Grace said, “Lee again. Seems he missed your gorgeous baritone.” She patted his rear affectionately.
“Hello?” Courtney asked, jokingly. “I’m not stealing her forever.
Just two hours. I may be an escaped lunatic from Arkham, but I promise, insanity isn’t contagious, just hereditary… on my mother’s side.”
“Sorry, Nee,” Bruce said. “I may just need her here today. Someone has to answer all these phones!”
“Lee again?” Courtney asked.
“Isn’t it always? Why don’t you talk to Grace until I get off the phone with him?” With that, he and Grace swapped phones.
“Lee… the next time you call here today, it better be to propose marriage,” he said as he pressed the house phone to his ear.
“Too good at what he does, huh?” Courtney asked when Bruce walked away.
“I swear, the man is more possessive than I am,” Grace teased. “So anyway, where are you stealing me away to?”
“Girl stuff… stuff you asked me to do for you. Turns out I didn’t need a week, just a morning. And now I need you and your checkbook,” she laughed.
Grace nodded, popping a grape into her mouth. Her eyes wandered over to Bruce who had once again hung up the phone and was looking at her.
“But I don’t know, Court. To tear myself away from Bruce…” She shook her head. “It’s something I just don’t know that I can do, not even for two hours.” She gave him a smile. “I leave… and he’ll have to answer both phones by himself.” She thought for a long moment. “Besides, the Hummer is still at the apartment building. No vehicle.”
Ah ha! The perfect excuse.
At this, Bruce walked over to the nightstand again and pulled out a familiar key ring. It was Grace’s. She’d dropped it while fumbling with her door lock when the attacker grabbed her. Bruce had picked them up, though until she’d said something just now, he’d forgotten all about them. The key to her Hummer was on it, as well.
Before he could give an explanation as to where they came from, however, the house phone rang again. Walking back to the table, he scooped up the phone in one hand and dropped her keys in front of her. “Is it tomorrow already, Lee?” he asked without preamble. After a brief silence, he said, “Give me a minute. I have the mayor’s daughter on the other line.”
When that shut Lee up, Bruce placed his hand over the receiver and said, “You may as well go with Nee, Grace. You can pick up your Hummer on the way home or something. Besides… it may be the only way you get any peace and quiet today.” He gave her a small, apologetic smile as he turned his attention back to this secretary.
She looked down at the key ring, not asking how he ended up with them.
More than likely the Good Samaritan made sure they were where he could find them. And she reminded herself again that she should at least do something to thank that man. “But Bruce…”
A finger was placed softly on her lips. “Have Alfred get the limo… drop you off to meet Courtney.” Pulling the phone away from his ear, he kissed her softly. “But only for a couple hours,” he said with a wink.
Grace closed her eyes. Into the phone, she said, “Well, Mr. Problem
Solver has just made sure that I have no excuses to tell you no, so I suppose I can meet you. Besides, I have a couple other errands I need to run anyway. I’ll get everything taken care of while I’m out.”
“Perfect,” Courtney said, “See you in a few?”
“I’ll be there,” she said, hanging up the phone. She waited for Bruce to hang up and quickly, before the phone rang again, she hugged him tightly to her. “Quick, kiss me before the phone rings again,” she teased.
*-*-*
Bruce walked Grace out to the awaiting limo, holding her left hand with his right while the other held his cell phone firmly to his ear. He’d finally given up having a productive conversation with Lee and was reduced to nodding and saying ‘Yes, Lee. I understand. We can discuss it then.’
As the chauffeur held open the door for her, he pulled the phone away from his ear, holding it out away from them as he stole a quick kiss good-bye. ‘I love you,’ he mouthed just before the door closed. He watched the car pull away down the circular drive and then turned his attention back to his personal secretary.
Upon reentry, Alfred awaited him with a silver tray in hand. A glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol sat on top of the try. Bruce chuckled, which apparently confused Lee.
“Mr. Wayne?” he asked. “Is something funny, sir?”
Bruce was so tempted to tell him the ironic truth, but instead bit his tongue. “No, just mildly amusing,” he replied. “I’m going to hang up now, Lee,” he told the man. I need a half hour or so to myself so I can finish my breakfast–” Here Lee launched into an extreme apology. “–and then I’m heading to City Hall to see if I can salvage some of these meetings.”
“Very good, sir,” was Lee’s response. Bruce smiled.
“And Lee…” he added after deliberation. “Tomorrow. I’ll call you.” At Lee’s protest, he stressed, “Ms. O’Neil and I need time to–” And then broke off as a thought dawned on him. “Listen, Lee… I need you to look into something for me, and I’d be very grateful if you did.”
“Well, sure Bruce. That’s what I’m here for.” Lee sounded surprised by the change in Bruce’s tone.
“Ms. O’Neil is having trouble deciding if she wants to press charges again the man who attacked her.” Bruce’s voice dripped with disgust for that man. “She doesn’t particularly like police stations, nor does she relish the prospect of being confronted by the media.”
“That’s all a part of–”
“Her life. Our lives. I know that, Lee. But I understand it, too. Between her attack, and our reunion… it would be a feeding frenzy.” He sighed, the truth of his words weighing on his mind. “I want you to find how possible it would be to get them –the police, the DA– to come to us if I can convince her to press charges. No media, just the police. Someone to take her statement and start the necessary proceedings. Can you do that for me, Lee?”
“Of course, Bruce. For you, I’m sure they’ll be most willing to cooperate.”
Hanging up the phone, Bruce took the Tylenol and downed the water. Alfred still stood beside him, patiently waiting. He gave the butler a small, drained smile. Alfred patted his shoulder gently.
“Shall I instruct the limo driver to keep the car running after he gets back from dropping Miss Grace off, sir?” he asked tirelessly.
“No, Alfred. I think I’ll take the Jag.” He felt like driving — feeling the thrill of the car against the road, the hum of the tires against the blacktop. It was good to escape for a few minutes while getting from one place to another. Good to be in control or your destination.
“Shall I expect you for lunch, sir?”
Bruce shook his head. “I have some meetings at City Hall, and I think I’m going to drop in on Miles. He’s always complaining that I don’t. I should be back around two… two-thirty…” he said, knowing Alfred would tell Grace, if she returned before he did.
“And tonight, sir?” It was a simple, yet loaded question.
“Routine as usual, Alfred,” Bruce replied, meaning he’d patrol as soon as he was sure Grace was asleep. He hadn’t gone out last night, having felt that after the afternoon they’d had, his day was better spent with Grace. Alfred had understood this, and had not pushed him, but they both knew it couldn’t become habit.
*-*-*
The limo dropped Grace off in front of City Hall and she saw Courtney there waiting for her. The idea of this was to pop in and say a quick hello to Courtney’s father… to let him see for himself that Grace was doing better. Then, the pair was going to run some errands for the little ‘surprise’ she was planning for Bruce on Sunday night. Courtney had asked for a week, but given Grace’s relationship with the ones Courtney was hiring for this venture, it surprised neither one that the largest part of the planning was already done.
Stepping out of the limo, Grace smiled at her friend. “You have two hours.” She mock-shook. “I’m going through withdrawals already.”
Courtney smiled in return. Given Bruce’s comments and the way Grace was joking, there was little doubt as to the fact that they were both doing better today. Walking side-by-side, they entered City Hall and without preamble, walked directly to the Mayor’s office. The secretary, though generally very nice, started to comment that they couldn’t just enter the mayor’s office without being announced when she was stopped by a look from the redhead. “Really, by now, you’d think she’d know better,” Courtney said to Grace though her eyes never left Eugenia’s.
Walking down the corridor, Grace grabbed Courtney’s arm. “I think he’s in a meeting or something,” she said, straining to hear the voices.
Courtney did the same. “Ooooo, you know who they’re talking about, right?” She paused, smiling. “Batman,” she mouthed.
“Bat-who?” Grace asked, mimicking her friend.
“Batman… caped guy… goes around at night fighting crime,” Courtney explained.
“Caped guy?” Grace’s mind flashed back to her attack. “Caped guy,” she said again, softly.
Courtney rolled her eyes. “Yes, caped guy… you know… flowing fabric that is generally clasped around the neck?”
“I know what a cape is, Court,” Grace stuck out her tongue.
The girls paused just outside the door. “It’s Commissioner Gordon,”
Courtney whispered.
“And they’re talking about Rupert Thorne,” Grace couldn’t help but say, mouth agape. They had done this quite a bit as kids, standing outside Miles’ door… eavesdropping.
When they heard the sound of feet moving across the floor, Courtney moved away quickly and knocked on the door. “Daddy, it’s Court.”
Both girls backed up when the door opened and the commissioner exited.
“Thanks again, James,” the mayor said, eyeing first his daughter and then her friend. Oh, he knew what they’d been up to. It was the same old stuff they pulled when they were kids. He couldn’t help but smile at them, even as his eyes told them he knew what they had done.
Standing aside, he let them both come in. He hugged first his daughter and then Grace. Her hug was followed by two hands cupping her face as his eyes checked out her nearly-gone bruise. He’d had a message waiting for him to call George O’Neil, which of course he was going to do. But he was waiting to see Grace himself. This way, he could give her father a full, accurate report. “So, what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, girls?”
Courtney sat in one of the chairs across from his desk as Grace took the other. “Nothing special. We’re running around town, thought we’d pester you for a bit.”
He smiled as he sat behind his desk. “And Gracie, how are you?” He didn’t specifically bring up the attack or her reunion with the world’s most eligible bachelor, though from the looks of things… Bruce was no longer available.
She lightly touched her forehead as she replied, “I’m fine. Got a bump is all. It’s almost gone.”
“Good thing too,” Courtney added. “You have a photo shoot coming up.”
“You do?” the mayor asked. This girl, who less than a week ago had been lifeless, seemed so vibrant now.
Grace nodded in response. “L’Oreal. Some photos for a winter campaign. They’ll more than likely stick a hat on my head if the bruise is still there anyway.” She shrugged softly.
Miles looked at her for a long moment before sitting back in his chair.
“And Bruce?” he questioned.
She fidgeted only a little. Of course, everyone was going to ask.
“The movers brought all her stuff to the Manor yesterday,” Courtney informed when Grace didn’t answer quickly enough for her.
“Peaches,” Miles said, “I was asking Gracie.” His tone wasn’t reprimanding. He honestly believed his daughter didn’t realize just how much like her mother she could be.
“I moved back into the Manor,” Grace repeated.
“So I heard,” the mayor teased with a laugh.
“I’m breaking the lease on my apartment,” she offered, grateful that at last someone –an adult she looked up to– met her choice with something other than distrustful curiosity. “No more ‘keeping my own place’.”
Miles raised a brow at that. A little over a year and a half ago, he’d given counsel to the young man she was now living with. If two people ever belonged together, it was Bruce and Grace. He understood the young man’s concern about commitment. Bruce’s life was complicated at best. So he’d offered him the option of keeping separate
residences. It seemed to give Bruce the comfort he needed to take the step he was supposed to take. But now, now keeping the apartment wasn’t necessarily a good idea. Too much water under that bridge. “Good for you, honey,” he finally said, “You’ll have no need for it anymore anyway.”
“Precisely,” Courtney agreed. Although now that the couple had reunited, Courtney wondered how long it would take for them to make the next step. No matter how Grace had reacted to the thought of marrying
Chad. No matter that it was Grace who had run out on that relationship, Bruce was different. Bruce was the one Grace was supposed to be with for the rest of her life. A girl could hope anyway… hope for her two best friends to be more than just housemates… right?
Grace smiled brightly. “There’s definitely no need for it,” she affirmed.
Miles winked at her. “Tell you what, I’ll have my secretary contact
Bruce’s and we’ll all get together for dinner here in the next couple weeks. Have a family celebration.” He still had a report to give to
George… and it looked like it was going to be a very good one. Grace was happier than he’d seen her in a very long time.
“Um… that’s great,” Grace said, an evil glint in her eyes. “Just maybe not today. Lee’s already driving Bruce insane.”
Miles nodded. He was about to respond when his phone rang. He answered it and then looked at his girls. “I should take this call, kiddoes.”
Both girls stood and said quick but friendly goodbyes. If they had eavesdropped like they normally did, they would have heard him say,
“Good afternoon, Bruce.”
*-*-*
Bruce walked out of his meeting with several of the city councilmen feeling drained. He’d been meeting with them to drum up support for yet another of Mayor Blaire’s crime bills and to push for a motion to reconsider police salaries in the city. Of the four people he’d met with today, he thought he might have won the support of three of them. The fourth he wasn’t too sure about. He seemed of the opinion that Gotham didn’t need a “heavier, well-fed” police force and likened Miles’ crime bills to turning Gotham into a police state.
The man’s family was grown, but his daughter had just had twins. His son-in-law worked down on the docks. Bruce politely asked what he would do when –not if, part of persuading someone was to make your argument seem more likely than not– his daughter called to say she and the twins were stranded in Crime Alley, car broken down, babies crying in the background. Would he feel safe? Would he go to her himself? Or would he want Gotham’s finest there to bring her safely home?
His response had been an arrogant ‘well, that won’t happen to *my* daughter’ but Bruce had seen his eyes and knew that his faith had been shaken. Everyone thought that it wouldn’t happen to them. Not everyone was so lucky.
Pulling his cell phone out of his coat pocket, he dialed the Mayor’s office and got Miles’ secretary, Eugenia. “Hey, Genie,” he greeted, smiling. She was an older woman, very friendly. ”It’s Bruce Wayne here. Can you patch me through to Miles, please?”
He listened to background music while he waited and then Miles voice came on the line. ”Hello, Miles!” he said in response to the mayor’s greeting. ”Listen, I was wondering, I’m heading to a meeting upstairs and I’ll be done in an hour. Would it be presumptuous of me to stop by after?”
When Miles expressed pleasure at the prospect of a visit, Bruce smiled. Walking down the hall to the elevator, he said, “Great! I’ll see you then.”
*-*-*
“Sunshine,” the husky voice called out as Grace and Courtney entered Bernie’s. He crossed the club and hugged the tall blonde before turning to her friend. “And the ever beautiful, Courtney.” The redhead was hugged as well. “Now, I hear you want to rent my entire club… Sunday night?”
Grace smiled brightly. “Yep.”
He led them over to a table. “You want the gang to play?”
“Please. Eldridge on the sax?” she asked, as he was perhaps her favorite musician of all time.
“If you want,” the blue’s man smiled at her. “It’s anything you want,
Sunshine, you should know that by now.”
She grinned widely. “I want. This is important to me.” She and Bruce had missed Christmas and his birthday, and though she knew he didn’t care for celebrating either one before they’d gotten together, he had celebrated afterwards because it was important to her. And they’d missed this year. Though material gifts meant nothing to either one, he would understand and appreciate the meaning of this gift.
Courtney pulled out her planner and crossed her legs under the table.
“I have a caterer who is going to prepare dinner for them. He’ll have the meals delivered here, but you’ll need to keep them warm in the oven.”
“No problem,” Bernie said with a smile.
“Good.”
Grace sat back and listened, letting Courtney do her job and finalize the rest of the plans for the evening. Once everything was spelled out, Grace did what she was actually needed for the most and then the tandem left the club.
“You know,” Courtney said as they headed for her BMW, “I booked a birthday party there a week ago, and he charged them twice as much… and they rented the club on a Tuesday. You got a prime day for half the price.”
Grace smiled. “He loves me.”
Courtney winked. It was Grace’s way.
*-*-*
The apartment manager wasn’t nearly as friendly. Grace had gotten the extra keys from Bruce, Courtney, and Naomi. Handing him the keys, she said, “This is it, Roger. Tell me what I have to do to get out of my lease.”
“Pay the seven months rent you owe me,” he said bluntly.
Courtney was about to say something, but Grace raised a hand and it seemed to silence her. “Seven months, huh?” She dug out her contract.
Another advantage to your father being the best contract lawyer in New York was that she knew contracts. “According to this, it says, and I quote, ‘A tenant shall be allowed to declare a lease null and void if said tenant’s safety is threatened while on the premise.’ I do believe
that I was attacked just outside the door of these premises just the other night. I do believe that the porch lighting was inadequate as one of the bulbs was burned out.” She flipped a page. “And there’s this, ‘A tenant shall be allowed to hold responsible the organization if negligence is found on the part of the organization.’ Burned out light bulb, Roger.”
She smiled and could feel Courtney beaming with pride behind her.
Pulling out her checkbook, she said, “But here’s what I’m going to do.
I’m going to write you a check for $2000. That should cover *three* months rent and an extra $50 for you to purchase some light bulbs.
How’s that sound to you?”
Roger heaved a sigh and took the check she offered him. “You always were a pain in the ass, Grace,” he said, though his voice wasn’t harsh as he knew she had him. “Damn pain in the ass.”
Leaving the office, the girls headed up to the second floor to Allen and Naomi’s apartment. She wasn’t surprised to see both of them at home. The salon where Naomi worked was closed on Monday’s and Allen worked twelve-hour shifts three days a week. Today must have been his day off.
They visited with the couple for a while, though both were cautious about extending complete blessings over the quick reunion. They understood, and Allen promised that he would tell Chad. What Allen didn’t say was that Chad had been hoping Grace would pull herself out of her funk and move on with her life without Bruce. The police officer, though hurt when Grace left him, always held out hope that she’d come back. Watching her today, though, Allen knew Grace had gone back… but back to the one she needed most in her life. Like it or not, in the end, it’s what made her happiest that counted most.
*-*-*
Walking out to the parking lot, Grace pulled out her keys. Turning to
Courtney, she said, “I’m going to make an impulse buy, wanna tag along?”
Courtney, ever suspicious, simply nodded and reset the alarm on her BMW. “Sure, but should I be worried?”
Grace laughed. “Only if you’re afraid of the color purple.” Taking out her cell, she called the Manor. Alfred informed her that Bruce had gone into town and wouldn’t return until later that afternoon.
Checking her watch, she did some mental calculations. “I should be home around three… four at the latest. There’s something I want to do.” After saying goodbye, she got in her vehicle and looked at Courtney. “I’ve soooooo wanted to do this for a while now.
Two hours later, Grace was dropping Courtney off at the apartment building. She was driving a new Hummer, paid for completely with a check. Only this one… well, this one was purple. The dealer had explained to her that Hummers didn’t come in purple, to which Grace had asked if General Motors made Hummers. He said they did. Her next question had been if GM painted any vehicle purple. He said yes.
She then walked over to a car and pointed to it. “I want *this* purple on *that* Hummer,” she said, pointing to one on the lot… all the ‘bells and whistles’, but it was just white. And she wanted purple.
Courtney had to agree, the purple was gorgeous. It was one of those metallic colors that if you looked at it one way, it could be black… some ways it looked blue or purple… and if the light hit it just right, it could have been a deep red. She laughed as the dealer caved and had the Hummer pulled into the body shop and repainted. This was new for Grace. The apartment thing wasn’t, as Courtney knew the woman always argued the lease. She believed she had done that because of her personal dislike of Roger. But demanding the Hummer be repainted purple… that was new. What was also new was that she just wrote the check. Wrote the check and very, very happily, drove the new vehicle
home.
As Courtney drove her own car back to the office, she had to admit.
She liked the new Grace. She liked her a lot! Grace was throwing herself back into life, doing things that made her happy. And whether
Bruce wanted to believe it or not, it was he who gave Grace life. He’d figure that out… if he lived through the shock of seeing the purple monster parked in his garage that was!
*-*-*
“Good afternoon, Eugenia!” Bruce greeted as he entered the office. He had a single daisy in his hand, her favorite flower, as he’d learned from countless visits to City Hall. “For you,” he said, holding the flower out to her with a flourish.
Eugenia beamed up at him, and she took the flower, bringing it to her nose. “You’re not going to barge in there too are you, young man?” She asked him, reaching a hand out towards the intercom.
“Hadn’t planned on it,” came his reply. ”But if you want me too…”
Eugenia laughed at his joking offer and pressed the button. “Mr. Wayne is here to see you, sir,” she said, informing her boss.
“Great! Send him on in! I’m just finishing a phone call!” Miles’ voice sounded tinny through the intercom, but cheerful.
“*Now* you may barge in there,” Eugenia told him, waving him off with a smile.
Miles was standing at the door when Bruce made his way back to the office. He was waiting with a smile and an extended hand. ”Good afternoon,” he said, as Bruce accepted the hand and the two men shook enthusiastically. ”Today is my lucky day.” He motioned Bruce toward one of the chairs, sitting behind his desk.
He took a long look at the young man. There was still a bit of ‘haunting’ in his eyes, but overall, the improvement in him was phenomenal. No way was this the same man who’d barely made it to the luncheon on Thursday and had moped through most of the official party on Friday. It was good to see him feeling better.
“The girls were just here. Actually, they just left when you called. I believe they are out terrorizing Gotham.” He mock-shuddered.
Bruce chuckled as he took the seat opposite Miles. ”Well that explains why Eugenia thought I was going to go barging into your office. Nee must have just breezed through, dragging Grace with her.” It was something Bruce could easily see, as he *had* seen it before. Miles may be the mayor, but he was Courtney’s father and she saw no distinction sometimes. He shook his head, still laughing. It was good to know that Grace was having fun with Courtney today. She hadn’t wanted to go; he knew that. But the Manor had an isolating influence and Grace was always a person who craved a certain amount of attention and interaction. And she’d just been hurt –twice. He didn’t want her to mistake the Manor’s solitude for perfect security against an uncertain world.
Miles sat back in his chair, letting his arms rest on the arms of the seat. ”My daughter and Eugenia don’t always see eye-to-eye. I was in a meeting, yes. And poor Eugenia was simply doing her job.” He smiled. ”But it’s interesting. When they were little girls, they would sit outside my office at the house… their little ears plastered to the door. I can’t tell you how many times Constance caught them, or I’d open the door and two little bodies would fall at my feet.” He actually laughed at the memory. ”Courtney thinks she’s smarter now. She knocks just before I open the door. She’s learned to equate hearing footsteps with someone approaching. So I let her think she’s getting by with it. Besides, Eugenia buzzed me so I knew they were coming.”
He gave a wave of his hand. ”But you know how they are.” He loved talking about the girls, and in this, he knew Bruce agreed. ”So, what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? I feel like today is my lucky day,” he reiterated, smiling widely. Inwardly, he thought, ‘All my kids visiting in one day.’ Outwardly, he was simply genuinely pleased.
“I have to have a reason now?” Bruce asked, but he was smiling and his tone was easy. He shrugged. ”I just thought I’d stop in, seeing as I had to cancel our last two lunches. You know, since I was here and all.” But they both knew Bruce didn’t do anything without a reason. “I was going to tell you myself, but I suppose the girls already told you the good news?”
Of course, they would have. Courtney had been thrilled to think he and Grace were back together, all the messed up badness aside. She would have told the world if she didn’t respect Bruce’s need for privacy. Miles, however, wasn’t the whole world. He was her father, and also the closest thing to a real father Bruce had known, aside from Alfred.
Miles and had his father had been very close. His father had even helped get Miles’ political career started. Bruce had forgotten about the connection until he was in college and had started thinking about what he would do with his family business. Alfred had suggested speaking to Councilman Blaire. Alfred, of course, had not forgotten the old connection. Then Courtney had breezed into his life, and like it or not, Miles was stuck with him now.
“They did… well,” Miles laughed, “Courtney did. Blurted it out like there’s just no filter between her mind and her mouth.” He winked. “And no, you never have to have a reason to stop by and see me. There are few people my door is always open to, and you are one of them.” He felt the need to stress that point before going on. ”The girls actually told me a lot of things. Grace is all settled in, I take it. As well as getting rid of her apartment.” He paused, his look a bit more serious though no less affectionate. ”If I must say, I think that’s a good idea now. I’ve not seen her this happy, Bruce… not ever.”
That made Bruce’s smile widen. Grace was happy. Other people were noticing it.
“She asked… she doesn’t want the apartment… and I don’t want her to leave ever again,” he said matter-of-factly. He didn’t acknowledge the fact that he’d been the reason Grace left in the first place. What mattered was that she was there and happy.
For a moment, Bruce let the shield that was his public face down. He shook his head, meeting Miles’ eyes slowly, determined. ”I made a mistake letting her go the first time,” he said, fully knowing that Miles knew this. He’d tried to tell him. As had Alfred and Courtney. Hell, he’d known it himself, but hadn’t realized how much of a mistake it was. But he had been given a second chance, and he wasn’t going to mess it up.
“We all make mistakes, Bruce,” Miles said sympathetically. “But you’ve rectified this one. And she is happy. That woman loves you,” he said as if he hadn’t said that same exact thing a hundred times to Bruce. “And she makes you happy.” He pushed his chair back a bit so that he could rest his ankle on his knee. ”Now, I told the girls I would have my secretary get in touch with yours but Gracie said something about Lee being a pain in your rear today. I’d like for us all to get together for dinner. A ‘family’,” here he used his fingers to make quotation marks, “celebration. My place. We’ll give you and Grace a couple weeks to get settled back in, but then one evening… I want one evening.” He removed his ankle so he could sit forward again. “Because, you know, you still owe me several lunches,” he teased.
“Oh, I don’t think I have to worry about Lee for a couple of days, at least,” Bruce said, thinking of the special errands he’d sent the other man on. ”But dinner with the… family… sounds nice. I’ll look at my schedule and let you know what’s good.” He didn’t say ‘dinner with your family.’ Just the family. His family in so many ways. That’s why, when he’d begun this new phase in his life, he’d had a will drawn up with provisions for those most important to him. Courtney. Grace. No one knew about it except himself, Alfred and the lawyer who’d drawn it up.
“It does. It’s been too long since the six of us have actually had dinner together. And I can promise you, Constance will behave.” He laughed lightly. ”Just a moment, Bruce.” Using his intercom, he paged his secretary. ”Eugenia, could you do me a big favor? Compile a list of dates for Mr. Wayne. Evenings that I have free starting… oh… a couple weeks from now. Could you do that for me?”
The voice over the other end of the comm was extremely friendly. ”I
sure will, Mayor.”
“Thanks.” His attention turned back to Bruce. He studied him for a long moment. To those who knew the family, Courtney looked and acted like her mother in a lot of ways, but there was a lot of her father about her too. Her caring of people and her intuition were two of the most obvious. ”So, what’s on your mind? Earlier I asked you something similar and got the standard ‘Do I have to have a reason?’ Socratian answer.” His gazed turned knowing. “So, we’ll try a second take… what’s on your mind?” And that was something Courtney got from her father too. Miles said what was on his mind. The only difference was that age had taught him how to temper it.
Bruce chuckled softly. It sometimes amazed him how much like Courtney Miles could be… no, how like him *she* was. Only, Nee would have bullied him into an answer. That amendment curled his lips into a smirk. Miles quirked an eyebrow and seemed to be waiting, as he knew the young man was coming to a decision.
Bruce nodded slowly, as if communicating with himself. Then he held Miles’ eyes with a determined gaze. ”There is,” he said quietly. “Something I’ve debated telling you for some months now, but it’s also something I’d rather no one” –By ‘no one’ he meant no one he hadn’t personally told– “discuss freely.” In other words, this shouldn’t be
considered common knowledge.
That last bit had the man’s full attention. Whatever this was, it was more than just ‘what do I do about Grace’? Using the intercom again, he told Eugenia to hold all his calls. As he thought earlier, Bruce didn’t do things like this lightly. And for him to even bring it up to Miles that it wasn’t something to be discussed freely, it had to be very important to the young man. Therefore, it was important to him. “You have my word, Bruce,” he managed once again to keep himself from calling him ‘son’, “What is said in this office, stays here.”
He sat back in his chair again so that his presence wouldn’t be intimidating. Not that he could intimidate Bruce, but Courtney loved to point out that sometimes being ‘too interested’ could be frightening. And when it came to his ‘family’, Miles was interested.
“Thank you,” Bruce said when Miles settled into his chair. Sometimes, when they were alone, speaking in private, there was softness to Miles’ voice when he said Bruce’s name. He might not think Bruce ever heard it but he did. It was the same tone of voice he used for his daughter. “Recently…” he began, hoping the right words would come. ”I met with
my lawyer and had a will drawn up.” He swallowed a little, wishing for water. ”I named Courtney as a beneficiary.”
Miles was watching the young man so closely he noticed the swallowing action and instinctively stood to get him a glass of water. It gave him a moment to think. Bruce had named Courtney as a beneficiary in his will. He always knew his emotions for the woman he affectionately called Nee ran deep, but he hadn’t really believed they ran to that level. It wasn’t so much that Bruce had decided to leave Courtney money or possessions, but that he loved and cared enough for her to want to take care of her… even if the day would come that he couldn’t… physically.
Returning to his desk, he handed Bruce the glass of water. “Having a will, especially for someone in your position, is a very smart and responsible thing to do.” He paused, thinking he should have gotten some water for himself. ”I understand the need to keep that within these walls.” As a father, there was just no way he could express how touched he was by what he’d just heard. ”I think my daughter is blessed to have a friend like you. Not because of the fact that she’s in the will, please understand. But because you love her enough to want to take care of her.” It was a very familial thing to do. And for that, Miles was very proud of him. Of course, he’d always been proud of him, but he’d never had to fight the urge to tell him that so much as he did right now. Bruce was the son Miles always wished he’d had. Oh, he loved Courtney more than words could say. And he wouldn’t trade her for anything. But to have a son as well… one like Bruce… He felt the bond, but was always wary of expressing it. Never wanting to cross those invisible lines he knew Bruce drew. He knew they were there, and he respected them.
Bruce brought the water glass to his lips, drinking slowly. He knew –felt– what Miles did not say. They understood each other in some ways. He ventured a smile. ”There are other provisions,” he said, not going into them at all. “Alfred knows what I want done, in the event that I–” he trailed off. Someone might think it impossible that a man of his youth would worry about his own death but Bruce knew better. The trip to Italy when Courtney was sick had been but one example. There’d been a hit on him, should he not relinquish control of his European offices. No one knew about that, and if he had anything to say about it, no one would. And now there was the Batman element. ”Though, I hope that never happens before I’m old and gray.” The death his father had deserved, he thought, though his tone was lighter, almost joking.
“All I’ve ever wanted for Courtney is her happiness and well-being. I know she has that in Seth. And I know there is little I can give her that she couldn’t get on her own.” He took another sip of his water. “I just thought you ought to know, as her father.” He concluded, giving another small smile. He knew he was asking him not to tell
Constance. He knew Miles loved his wife, but she was too closely bound to Gotham society not to let the cat out of the bag. Her daughter –Bruce Wayne’s heir. No, it wouldn’t do. Miles… he trusted implicitly, and there were other things he wished he could tell the man.
Miles gazed at him intently. ”We want the same things then, you and
I.” He smiled softly. Constance still would make comments about Bruce abandoning Courtney during the times she seemed to need him most, but Miles knew better. Miles knew that Bruce would never leave Courtney or Grace without having a damn good reason. He also knew, without asking, that the young man had more than likely included Gracie in the will as well. ”All I’ve ever wanted in my life,” he paused and laughed lightly, “Let me rephrase… all I’ve ever wanted since she was born was to see her happy, that and to have her outlive me.” He swallowed, as he knew exactly how close they had come to not having that. He also knew that neither Seth nor Courtney had told Bruce that the doctors had misdiagnosed her at first… that that was why Seth had taken her to New York City.
“And it looks like I get both. And through my daughter, I’ve been blessed. So you have my word as a gentleman, I will say nothing to no one, but,” he paused and softly said, “Bruce, thank you. Thank you for caring about her… for loving her that much.”
Bruce smiled, but also shook his head. ”No need to thank me, Miles.” Though, in truth, the man’s words meant more to Bruce than anything. “I couldn’t help but love Nee, from that first day even.” He paused, making eye contact. “Your daughter is very precious to me, and I know I haven’t always been there –physically– when she needed me to be, but she’s always in my heart.”
*-*-*
Miles waited for several long moments after Bruce left before he even moved. Overall, seeing all his ‘kids’ today had gone a long way towards making the bad moments disappear. But also, seeing Grace, knowing that she had been a victim of a crime… crime that he so desperately wanted to decrease in his city… It had touched home with him. Standing, he walked over to the window and looked down at the city. People were going about their daily lives… mothers, fathers, children, friends, lovers… All they wanted to do was live their lives and do so safely. That’s all Miles wanted to give them. And it enraged him that there were those who could so easily compromise their values. He couldn’t reach them. His newest crime bill was losing support. Neither he nor Bruce could sway certain members of the council… certain members who had very few values and ethics.
That enraged him even more.
And then to have Bruce come in here and tell him he’d named Courtney as a beneficiary should anything unfortunate happen to him. It made Miles all the more determined. Good people did exist. People cared about one another… they loved, laughed, and cried… together.
The girls had overheard his discussion with Commissioner Gordon. They’d heard them discussing Batman and Rupert Thorne. Thorne. Everyone knew he was crooked. Everyone knew he ordered executions and ran the equivalent of a Gotham ‘mafia’. Thorne was virtually untouchable. By everyone but this Batman. Miles knew he was no myth or rumor… so did Gordon. If they couldn’t drum up support for the crime bill, it could very well take a vigilante to take care of what he couldn’t.
But now more than ever, he was determined to see that this crime bill passed. He was determined to make this city safer for everyone. It wasn’t a desire of his… it was something he had to do.
Moving away from the window, he cleared his head and picked up the phone. From memory, he dialed the number to George O’Neil’s law office.
“O’Neil and Beckham Contract Law,” the receptionist’s voice answered.
“George O’Neil please.”
“Whom may I ask is calling?”
“Mayor Miles Blaire.”
The receptionist’s voice spoke more than her words. “I’ll put you through right away, sir. One moment please.”
Miles couldn’t help but smile. Obviously she had been informed to put his call through no matter what George was doing.
“Miles?” the lawyer’s voice filtered through the phone.
“George,” the mayor responded. “How are you?”
“It’s a Monday,” George said as if that explained everything. “Everyone wants to sue everyone over something on a Monday.”
Miles sat back down in his chair. “And here in Gotham, everyone wants to play the ‘game’ of politics on a Monday.”
“Frustrating, isn’t it?”
“Very much so.” Miles paused and then quickly changed the topic. “I have, however, had a very nice break. I had a few visitors today.”
“You saw Grace?” came the father’s question.
“I did.” He didn’t wait for George to ask the next question, as a father, he knew what the man wanted to know. “She’s fine. She’s healthy and truly doing well. You can hardly see the bruise.”
“Emotional scarring?” George asked curtly.
“She was smiling, George. A glow in her eyes that I’ve never seen. Not even before she and Bruce split.”
“You mean before Bruce broke her?”
Miles sighed. He understood the protective nature. If Courtney had been crushed like that, he would be enraged too. But Miles had an insight George didn’t… he KNEW Bruce. At least he knew him on a level that most others didn’t. Bruce had taken him into confidences that he didn’t take anyone else into. “You know, George, I’m not defending what happened. Breaking Grace’s heart was a huge mistake on Bruce’s part. And no one knows that more than he does. And he’s doing everything he can to make sure she’s happy. It’s working too.”
“Until he does it again.” George sighed. “I care about him too, Miles. I trusted that Grace had finally found the one who would stand by her… never break her heart. It’s all any father wants for his daughter. You have that in Seth. I thought I had that in Bruce.”
And there it was. Not only was it the breaking of Grace’s heart, but the breaking of trust. That was something that wasn’t easily repaired. George had come to see Bruce as a son. He’d taken Bruce into the family. They’d gone on family vacations… Bruce and Grace had spent holidays at the O’Neil home. George and Janet had well and truly believed their family had grown by one member.
And in one fell swoop, one wrongly uttered sentence, it had all been stolen from them. Grace’s life had been crushed. If Seth had hurt Courtney like that… But once again, Miles had an insight. “It’s not going to happen again, George. I can promise you that. And as much as you are berating him… he’s berating himself even more. Believe me.”
“He should,” was George’s immediate response before chuckling almost ruefully. “I go back and forth,” he admitted to his long-time friend. “I want to believe, but I also could happily wring his neck. I talked to them this weekend.”
“Both of them?” Miles asked, wondering how it went between the father and the boyfriend.
“Yes, both of them. It was very upsetting to learn everything about my daughter from the newspapers. Sometimes I feel like I live too far away.” He sighed before continuing, “But yeah, I talked to them both. I’m willing to do the ‘second chance’ thing because Grace is so determined. And I want her happy.”
“I understand. I had myself a small talk with Seth the week before they got married.”
“Threatening to break his kneecaps?” George teased.
Laughing, he replied, “Actually it was the long, slow process of bamboo shoots under the fingernails.”
“Ouch,” George laughed in response. “I was all ready to threaten Bruce. I don’t give a fig what his name is or how much money he has… not when it comes to my daughter. But,” he paused, “everyone deserves a second chance.”
“And trust can be rebuilt.”
“Slowly, but yes. I asked him to do a couple things for me. It’s a step. And it’s one step at a time.”
“That it is, old friend.”
George pinched his nose. “You know the hell of all this is, we were supposed to be in Gotham on Friday, for your party. And this damn lawsuit was dropped in my lap on Thursday morning. If we had been in Gotham…”
Miles eyes went wide. “Oh yeah… seems almost…”
“Like Fate, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, and how can you argue with Fate?”
“You can’t. But I can tell you this… it happens again and I’ll kick Fate in the ass and then come down there for Wayne.” The last sentence was said with a light tone, one that Grace often used.
Miles chuckled. Hope was her father… in her determination, her spirit, and her drive. She was her father made over. But Grace… Grace was her mother. She looked exactly like her mother… acted like her… reacted like her. Miles remembered Judy O’Neil. She was always very forgiving and vibrant. She pulled you in and made you feel special. He wasn’t sure where things had gone wrong for Judy. What had caused her to turn her back on her two daughters and her husband?
One day, the blonde vixen was pal-ing around Gotham helping Constance plan a charity banquet, and the next; she was gone. And in leaving, she left devastation in her wake. She left a very confused and hurt man and two destroyed daughters. Though, Hope had recovered first and rather easily. Hope stuck her emotional baggage in the closet and went on with life. Grace carried hers around with her for a very long time. Even when George met and fell in love with the much younger Janet, it had been Grace who’d had the hardest time adjusting. But it was also Grace who loved the most completely. If you asked the woman, who looked so much like Judy O’Neil, who her mother was, she’d tell you Janet O’Neil.
Some second chances never happened. It was a real shame.
Finally, Miles joked, “I think if it happened again, he’d take care of himself long before you got here.” He paused for a moment. On his desk, he had a picture of Constance… beautiful red hair artfully sculpted, eyes shining as she was laughing over something he’d said as he took the picture. Beside that, he had a picture of Courtney and Seth. His daughter looked beautiful in her long, white wedding gown. Her hair was short but beautifully styled. Seth was in his black tux with tails. They were looking at one another, not at the camera. But the picture said it all… the love there was deep and it was lasting. It spoke of hard times that had been shared and conquered. On the other side of his desk, there was a picture of Courtney and Bruce. This one was before the cancer. Courtney’s hair was blowing wildly in the wind and Grace had taken the picture just as Courtney tackled the younger, stronger man. Both were smiling and laughing. The last picture was of Grace and Bruce. Bruce normally didn’t enjoy press photos, but the story behind this one was that he’d showed up during one of her photo shoots. Obviously swept away by how beautiful Grace looked, she’d managed to convince him to pose for a few pictures. They weren’t used for any advertising, but they’d given some of them to their close friends. They were looking at the camera, but resting comfortably with one another. This picture also spoke of deep love, but love that had yet to be truly tested by fire. Miles imagined if they were to take another picture of them now, Grace and Bruce’s looks would more closely match Courtney and Seth’s. That’s how love worked. The harder things were; the more enjoyable the good times. “You know, George,” he said after his contemplation. “Maybe, just maybe, the split was needed… necessary. It’s easy, and we both understand this, it’s easy to say ‘forever’ when times are good. But to go through the bad times… to survive them… and then come back and say ‘forever’…” He didn’t finish; just let the rest hang between them.
Miles couldn’t see it, but George was also looking at his own photo of Grace and Bruce. It was very similar to the one Miles had on his desk. He’d meant to take it off so many times during the separation, wanting to hate Bruce Wayne but never quite being able to make the emotion complete. So he’d kept the picture on his desk. As he looked at it and heard Miles’ words, he softly said, “Yeah, you’re right. To fully appreciate the light, you have to experience the dark.”
“He’s learned, George. He’s learned how empty that dark is without her light.”
Thinking of Judy and the light she’d always given, George had to agree. His thoughts then turned to Janet and all the light, life, and love she’d given, and he had to verbalize his agreement. “You’re right. She’s not an easy woman to live without. None of our girls are.”
Miles nodded. “Exactly, George.”
The other man’s voice was soft as he said, “Thanks, pal. I needed that.”
“Anytime.” The two traded goodbyes and Miles hung up the phone. On a shelf just by his desk sat a picture of Constance, Seth, Courtney, Bruce, Grace, Alex, Hope and himself. It was the charity fundraiser just before Courtney had been diagnosed. The photographer had managed to grab a candid shot of all of them as they were laughing and enjoying themselves. It was the centerpiece of his office… the one picture that was set out so everyone could see. His family. The reason he worked so hard to make sure Gotham was the safest place it could be.
Pushing the button on the intercom, he said, “Eugenia, get me Arnold Fitzgerald on the phone as soon as possible, please.” At her acknowledgement, he grabbed a stack of papers that detailed his new crime legislation. If Fitzgerald wanted to punch holes in the crime bill, Miles was going to make damn sure they were valid. He was done playing with these people. It was time to get to work.
*-*-*
Bruce was busy again. For the past couple days, he’d been extremely busy in the afternoons. Grace had thought when he handed over the running of his company to his advisors; he’d have more free time. But no! He was even busier than usual.
While she waited for Bruce to return from another afternoon of meetings, Grace found herself in the library with the newspaper. Most of the articles were of little interest, until she saw her name in one. She scanned it, then read it more carefully. Finally, she got up and went in search of Alfred.
“Alfred,” Grace approached the butler, newspaper in hand. “Have you looked at the paper today?”
He nodded. “I read the paper every day, Miss Grace. I do so and point out articles of interest to Master Bruce.”
She inhaled deeply. “I haven’t looked at the paper much since I got here.”
“You’ve been preoccupied, Ma’am. It’s understandable.” He was a bit curious as to why she would be speaking with him about the newspaper, but something had obviously grabbed her attention, and since Bruce was in another ‘meeting’, she must be turning to him to talk about it.
“Well, there’s another article about a thwarted mugging. And they bring up my attack.” She held out the paper to him, wondering if he’d seen it.
“I did read that,” he nodded.
“Did you notice the victim’s description? He appeared to be wearing a cape. His face was shadowed as if he were wearing a mask or something. Sound familiar?”
Outwardly, he was the epitome of calm. Inwardly, he was formulating a plan to her next question. “Yes. You believe the man who saved you was wearing a cape as well.”
“And I couldn’t see his face.”
“You were tossed onto the pavement, Miss Grace.”
She sighed. “I know. I know. It’s just that,” she sighed again. “I should thank this man. I should do *something* to repay him for saving me, and he’s just disappeared. No one knows anything. The police say he was just an anonymous voice on the phone. Bruce says he was gone by the time he arrived. But I saw a cape, Alfred. I don’t care what you think; it wasn’t a trench coat. It was a cape. And if this victim was saved by the same man…”
“I highly doubt that,” he responded. “Gotham is a big city, and there is bound to be more than one Good Samaritan out there.”
“But wearing a cape?” She shook her head. “This lady says she thinks it was that Batman.” She pointed to the article. “They’re calling him the ‘caped crusader’. It goes on to say that some of the criminals have said he wears a cape and a mask. A mask that resembles a bat. Hence, the nickname of course. Do you think…”
Completely calm, he said, “Follow me, Ma’am.” As they walked down the corridor, he spoke, “I believe that this ‘Batman’, as the press is calling him… I believe he is a myth, an urban legend created by the press. The man who saved the woman in that article was just a man. The man who saved you was just a man. It is the job of the press to over-sensationalize everything in order to draw the readers in.”
“But I saw…”
“What you believed to be a cape? But, Miss Grace, I think that when that criminal grabbed you, you were frightened. I think you put up a fight. You do know kickboxing, and from my understanding you’ve taken self-defense classes. So more than likely you were being tossed about. The Good Samaritan approached and your blurred vision made you believe you saw a cape, when in fact it was just a long coat.” He looked back at her as she followed him. “I believe the same thing happened to the young lady in the article. The mind will fill in blanks for itself in order to make sense out of things that are confusing. She was saved by a man, as were you.”
“I just want to thank him. I want to let him know how grateful I am.”
She stopped following Alfred and sat in a chair. Setting the newspaper on the end table, she shrugged. “I know being mugged, or potentially being mugged, is a horrible thing. But look what came out of it.” She looked up at him and smiled. “I wouldn’t be here if that man hadn’t called Bruce. Is it so much to want to thank him for it?”
Alfred, knowing the truth and knowing that there were moments when
Bruce wanted to tell her that he had been the one to save her, nodded slowly. “I can understand that.” A small smile spread across his face. “May I suggest that once Master Bruce gets finished with his ‘meeting’, you speak with him about the subject. Maybe there is a way that you can get a message to the man who saved you. It may not be a direct communication, but perhaps Master Bruce can help you work something out.” Of course, he knew that in going to Bruce and talking to him about it, in a way, she would be thanking the man who saved her.
“You don’t believe the Batman stuff, then, do you?”
He shook his head in response.
She stood and began following him again. Where they were heading, she had no idea. “I like the idea of him. The idea that there’s someone out there watching over us. Someone selfless enough to take care of others and not want fame or money.” She shrugged. “And if you think about it… a costume would be necessary.”
“Why is that?” He continued on his journey, his voice not giving any indication of emotion.
“Anonymity,” she said simply. She flipped to another article. “See here, this criminal went to one of those professional sketch artists. Did you see this?”
“I did.”
“Come on, Alfred. If he’d actually seen the man’s face, then all anonymity would be gone. But he wears this mask… and a cape,” she pointed out again, “and his true identity is protected. And you know what else?”
“What’s that, Ma’am?”
“Mayor Blaire said that the press coverage of this ‘Batman’ has done more to cut down small crime than both of his crime bills. He says that whether this man is real or not, the ‘idea’ of him is causing thugs to think twice about committing small crime. And Commissioner Gordon says…” She stopped there, as she actually wasn’t supposed to have heard what Commissioner Gordon said. She’d heard him accidentally when she and Courtney went to visit the Mayor this morning.
“What did Commissioner Gordon say, Miss Grace?” The question was asked as if to placate her, but he was now paying very close attention, preparing a mental report for Bruce.
“I sort of overheard it actually. But Commissioner Gordon says that
Rupert Thorne…” she paused and asked, “You know who he is, right? The guy that is ‘rumored’,” here she used her fingers to form quotation marks, suggesting that the word ‘rumored’ was purely baloney, “to be one of the biggest crime bosses in Gotham. Anyway, Commissioner Gordon says that Thorne’s people are getting ‘very’ tense. Now, why would that be?”
“I surely do not know.”
“I do. Because whether he’s an urban legend or not, this ‘Batman’ is causing waves with the crime element. Both the Mayor *and* the
Commissioner have noticed it.” She paused, inhaling deeply. “So yeah,
I’ll talk to Bruce about finding a way to thank the man who saved me.”
She walked a bit faster, passing Alfred up and striding a bit farther ahead before turning around and looking directly at him. “But I’m telling you… I believe in this ‘Batman’. I believe the legend. Because the world needs a hero. And I believe that it was this hero who saved me.”
When she turned back around, Alfred smiled faintly. Master Bruce would have a nice report from him. He immediately quit smiling though as
Grace abruptly turned back around. “Miss Grace?” he questioned.
“Um…” Her look was one of confusion. “Um… Alfred… where am I?”
*-*-*
Bruce returned from his meetings tense and frustrated. Another councilman had refused to support him and the mayor. Bruce found it odd that the man voiced the same accusations against Miles as the other one. It suddenly felt too scripted, as if someone with a vested interest in having a lax police force had been feeding them their responses.
He was frowning over it when Alfred found him in the training facility.
“I thought you already…. had your work out this morning, sir,” Alfred commented upon seeing Bruce running on a treadmill, as opposed to around the gym. The treadmill was currently set at a very high speed.
“Just running off some frustrations before I go upstairs and see Grace, Alfred,” came the reply.
The butler nodded silently. “A bad day in City Hall, sir?”
“Not the best.”
Again, Alfred nodded, as if he suspected as much. “Speaking of Miss Grace, sir…” This got Bruce’s attention and he stopped running, switching off the treadmill.
“What about Grace? Is something wrong?” Panic and concern edged his voice as the part of him that still hadn’t forgiven himself took over.
“Nothing of the sort,” Alfred assured. “We did have nice chat, however, while you were out. I thought it might be of interest to you, sir.”
“How so?” It was then that Bruce noticed the newspaper tucked under Alfred’s arm. The butler held it out to him and instructed him to turn to an article. Bruce read; it was about Batman and mentioned Grace’s attack in passing, because things about her attacker’s description of Batman matched that of the victim’s description of her savior.
As Bruce read, Alfred said calmly, “Miss Grace believes it is the Batman who saved her that night, sir. She…” He paused, and Bruce looked up to find the older man smiling warmly at him. “…wants to thank him, sir.”
Thank him? Grace had already done more than enough to thank ‘Batman.’ She was here, living with him, loving him. It was all the thanks he really needed. But Grace didn’t know that, now did she? Being the person that she was, she would want to express gratitude if she thought there was a way. He nodded, sensing Alfred had more to say.
“There is one more thing, Master Bruce,” Alfred added as if responding to the silent prompt from Bruce to continue. “Miss Grace seems to have overhead the Mayor speaking with Police Commissioner Gordon…” In spite of himself, Bruce smiled. Miles had said he knew the girls had been eaves dropping. Courtney was an incurable snoop sometimes.
“…about Batman.”
Bruce listened as Alfred filled him in on what Grace had told him. Suddenly a lot about his ‘not the best’ day made sense. Why his lobbies might be making little headway against certain councilmen. Why his support was dwindling. Thorne.
Thorne, feeling the pressure from the mythical Batman, was putting pressure on the people he owned at City Hall. How nice to know.
*-*-*
Grace snuggled into her Brucie pillow. It was early evening and she’d caught up with him after he’d returned from his meetings. She’d actually been intent upon talking with him about the subject she and
Alfred had discussed earlier, but she got swept away in watching him change… then swept away in another way. And by then it was time for dinner.
Dinner was spent in the main dining room that night, though candlelight had once again been the only light source. She’d been here four days now and had already started putting back on the weight she’d needed to gain. During dinner, they discussed her new training regimen and she even managed to talk him into training with her. She never once asked him where he’d gone the night before. He thought she was asleep, but she knew the minute he left and the minute he came back. But she didn’t ask.
Now, they were lying on the leather couch watching one of Bruce’s favorite movies ‘The Maltese Falcon’. Grace loved Bogart, but right now what she loved most was lying in Bruce’s arms. She wasn’t sure why it crossed her mind when it did, but she turned slightly so she was no longer looking at the screen but looking at his face.
“What?” he laughed lightly, unsure what he’d done to suddenly have her undivided attention.
“Well, I sort of got swept up in today and forgot there was something
I wanted to talk to you about.” Picking up the remote, she asked, “Do you mind?” At his response, she turned off the DVD and smiled at him. “I think you should reprimand Alfred,” she tried for serious but the glint in her eye was unmistakable. “He deliberately got me lost in the house today. Of course, he may have just been trying to outrun my chatter… though he did say ‘Follow me’. Anyway,” she waved her hand, “I had something come up and he said I should talk to you about it. That you could help me.”
Bruce smiled at her description of Alfred leading her around in circles. He knew it hadn’t quite been the case, as Alfred had already informed him of the situation. “I live to serve you, my sweet Grace,” he told her softly, smoothing a lock of hair away from her face as she continued to watch him. “What is it that Alfred thinks I can help you with?”
“Well,” she began, “I was reading the newspaper today and came across a whole slew of articles that got me to thinking. There was another attempted mugging last night. Again, thwarted by a Good Samaritan. Now, me being the person I am, I read that victim’s description and compared it to my hazy memory and came up with a few ideas. Mostly, rectifying something that I should have done days ago.” She paused, looking at him for a moment, so very proud of herself.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“I want to thank the ‘mysterious’ hero who saved me life. He didn’t just stop me from being mugged… he saved me in so many other ways.
And I want to thank him. But it’s like he’s vanished off the face of the earth. And I know why!” She was on a roll now, and attacked telling Bruce with as much enthusiasm as she had when she told Alfred. “I saw a cape. Last night’s victim saw a cape. Now, I couldn’t see a face because of the shadow on the sidewalk. But she remembers seeing a mask. My savior’s face could have been masked. She said it was Batman. The ‘Caped Crusader’ as Court calls him. I mean, how else do you explain it?” She inhaled deeply. “Alfred says he’s a myth, a rumor… the cape I saw was a trench coat. He thinks I’m suffering from some fear induced memory plug… but I don’t think so. I just can’t get the image out of my head. He saved me… and I need to know if you can help me thank him… thank him for my life… for calling you… for bringing us back together again. For so many things.” She finally stopped and waited for his comment.
For a moment, Bruce was rendered speechless. Alfred had warned him of her theory, but he’d failed –in true Alfredesque form– to convey the sheer extent of her enthusiasm for the subject. “Let me see if I understand this…” he began slowly, stalling to collect his thoughts. When she nodded, he said,” you think that this guy in a cape saved you, and all these other people, and you want to… thank him for it?” There was, naturally, no malice or incredulity to the question. He was simply clarifying her intent. Or so it would seem to her, he hoped. “And you want me to help do that… somehow?”
“No one knows who he is… and honestly, like I told Alfred, I think it’s darn smart that he doesn’t let everyone know who he is. From what I heard at the mayor’s office today…” She bit her lip, reminding herself that she didn’t actually have to tell him everything. “Anyway, I don’t want to thank Batman for saving everyone. I mean, it’s awesome that he does and all. But mostly, I want to thank him for saving *me*. You know? And I don’t know how to do that. I called the police station and they have NO idea about anyone coming forward and taking credit. There was nothing left at the scene but an unconscious and very injured assailant. Nothing.” She paused again, more to get her breath than anything. “It’s just important to me, you know? And Alfred, though placating me over the Batman part of it, said you might know how I could go about making sure he knew I was grateful. He risked his life for me. There aren’t many people who would do something like that for a total stranger. And I just want to thank him.”
Except it wasn’t a total stranger. He’d saved her: him, Bruce Wayne. Well, him Batman, anyway. He’d saved her. He wanted so badly to tell her. Yet she was right, he shouldn’t reveal that secret. Not to anyone.
“I’m not sure I believe in this Batman person,” he said, echoing the sentiment Alfred had expressed to Grace. “But I’ve seen enough in the papers to know that a lot of people are starting to. Rumors, mostly, but… If he is a real man, and not a myth, he probably isn’t looking for thanks or fame.” Claiming credit for being Batman could go either way: a nice comfy cell in Arkham or the public’s approval. However, not to damper Grace’s spirits any, as he loved seeing her so animated and determined, he added quickly, “But I think, Grace… now please don’t take this the wrong way, love. You know how much you mean to me. I think that the best way you could thank him would be to press charges against that slim who attacked you.” He felt her tense at the suggestion and barreled on so she had to listen to his voice and not have time to think of a new rationalization. “Like you said, he *did* risk his life for you –a total stranger– and I’m certain it wasn’t so the low life who hurt you could walk free.” Free to try again, Bruce added to himself. He fell silent then, waiting to see how Grace would respond.
She didn’t say anything for several long moments. She didn’t really care whether Alfred and Bruce believed or not. She believed. Courtney believed. That woman whose life was saved last night believed. And though Bruce was saying things she didn’t want to hear… hadn’t they already discussed her reasons behind not wanting to go and press charges… what he said made sense. If she didn’t go down there and press charges, then her attacker would more than likely go free… confession or not.
Her head rested back on Bruce’s chest as she thought about what he said. He was right. What better way to show her gratitude than to make sure that the criminal was prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law? It was something that Chad had always complained about… arresting the lawbreakers only to have them set free again. Her father expressed the same concerns. And if this stranger… Batman… continually risked his life for people, the least she could do was reward his efforts. She looked back up at Bruce and nodded. “You’re right. I should do it. But…” She sighed at the thought of the media, and the frenzy, and the questions. “You’ll go with me, won’t you? I mean, I know it will only be fuel for the circus; but if you’re there, it will be easier to handle.”
Bruce felt an immediate rush of relief at her words. She’d prosecute the man. He wouldn’t go free. He wouldn’t hurt her or any anyone else ever again. The weight that had hung over his heart from the minute Grace had been attacked suddenly lifted. Every day since, a small part of him relived losing his parents to the muggers attack on them. When he learned that her attack hadn’t been a mugging but the act of a something worse, his fears had been doubled. If set free, would he not try again?
He smiled a very relieved smile, bringing his hand up to caress her cheek. He knew what this meant for her… how brave she had to be to do it. And he knew that her bravery stemmed, in a large part, from her belief in Batman. It warmed his heart, and he suddenly felt compelled to say something… take back part of his earlier statement in some way. “Grace, I… I know what this means for you to do. I hope, for your sake, that he’s real. This Batman. You put so much faith in him… If he’s real, then maybe he deserves it.”
“Bruce,” she whispered softly and pressed a soft kiss into his chest. “Will you go with me, then?”
She still sounded a little worried, though, at the thought of going to press charges. He hadn’t heard back from Lee yet, but he wanted to ease her fears in that area, as well. “I will, if we have to, but you know… I was thinking… what if I could persuade the police to come to us?” He felt her breath catch.
“What do you mean? Come to us?” she asked, looking up at him again.
“Come here. I know you’re not overly crazy about the idea of going down to the station and facing the crowds, but what if I could convince the DA and Commissioner Gordon to send someone here to take your statement and start the paperwork –here, at home? The media wouldn’t be here. They know I don’t allow reporters or photographers here and seem to at least grudgingly respect it.” He was rambling; he realized and stopped, letting her think about it without his voice in the background.
Here… he would let them come here. Would they come here? She closed her eyes. Of course they would. If for no other reason than to them he was ‘Bruce Wayne’, and what he wanted… for the most part… he got. She’d never wanted him to use his ‘power’ to help her. She’d never wanted him to use his influence or his name. Because he wasn’t any of those things to her. He was simply the man she loved.
Looking at him, she smiled. And that was how he was acting… he was acting as the man who loved her… the man who would do anything to make sure she was okay. She nodded finally. “If they would come here, that would be perfect. I can do that easily. I really do want to make sure he pays for his crime… that he doesn’t hurt anyone else. I just get a bit tense… with my history… the press will eat this up, dredge it up, ask me questions I don’t want to answer.”
She moved just enough so that her head could rest in his neck. It seemed to be her comfort spot, where she drew the most strength. “But if they won’t come here, I’ll go there. I promise.” She smiled. “You think he’ll know?” she asked, once again referring to Batman. “You think he’ll understand? It’s important to me.”
He couldn’t help but smile. She was worried that he wouldn’t know what she was going to do… that maybe he wouldn’t understand the message she was trying to send. Tilting his head so he could kiss the top of hers, Bruce murmured his answer softly against her hair. “He’ll know, love. I’m sure of it.” Then his arms tightened around her, holding her close to him. Tomorrow, he would ask Lee what he’d found out, and go from there.
*-*-*
That night when Bruce left Grace, he paused to watch her sleep. He loved her so very much. This –what he was doing– had almost torn them part. Oddly, it was also that which brought them together again. A few times since she’d been back in his life, Bruce had thought about just not doing it. Not patrolling. Lying in bed with her all night instead. His talks with her and Alfred earlier that night, however, had changed his mind. Grace may not know what he was doing, but she was aware of the results. What was more, she believed in the good they could do.
It was enough for Bruce to continue, even though it took him away from her.
“I love you, Grace,” he whispered before slipping out of the room. Had he stayed, he would have seen her smile before burying her face into his pillow.
Tonight, instead of patrolling right away, he went straight to the basement cavern. The ‘Batcave’ he supposed, if he was seriously going to adopt the moniker he’d received from the press. It wasn’t the training facility, however, that he went to. When Alfred arrived not long after, Bruce was seated in front of the supercomputer, accessing various information databases.
“A bit of light reading tonight, Master Bruce,” Alfred asked quietly.
He turned his eyes away from the computer screen’s glow. “I need to know about Arnold Fitzgerald and Talbot Kirkland, Alfred.”
“The councilmen, sir?” Alfred sounded surprised. Bruce nodded.
“They’re stone-walling my efforts for the mayor’s crime and police bills. I have reason to suspect that one or both of them may be on Rupert Thorne’s payroll.”
If this surprised Alfred, he didn’t say anything. “Would you like me to see what I can find, sir? While you… go out?”
He nodded. “If you would,” he said, leaving an unspoken ‘it would be nice’ on the end of the sentence. He let Alfred take over the computer and changed in to the Suit. Not long after, he was across town apprehending a car thief.
*-*-*
Stirring in her sleep, she reached out for the warmth that was supposed to be beside her and found his part of the bed empty. She didn’t move really, just looked at the vacant pillow. No questions, she reminded herself. So she sighed and accepted that. Grabbing his pillow, she rolled onto her other side. No way was she going to be able to sleep, but then again, she didn’t want to get out of this bed either.
She could go to the gym and run on the treadmill. She’d been doing that a lot the past couple days. When Bruce was at his meetings today and after she talked to Alfred, she’d been able to run several miles and actually run at an incline. Afterwards, she felt better than she had in months. It wasn’t going to be as hard to get back into shape as she thought. But still… running right now wasn’t a priority for her.
Her next thought was reading, but she’d just finished her latest novel and wasn’t sure she wanted to go down to the library and hunt down another book. In her mind that left two things… eating or watching TV. Bruce didn’t keep a television in his room because he wasn’t as enraptured with it as she was. He watched movies, she believed, mostly because it meant they could spend time together. And the movies they watched together were more selective than what she watched on her own.
Rolling back over, she found a tablet and pen on his nightstand and hastily scribbled out a note: ‘Have kidnapped your pillow. In exchange for captive pillow, you must meet these demands: 1) Meet me in my room as soon as you return and 2) Wake me up if I am sleeping. Love you, G’. She didn’t bother to grab her robe, merely took his pillow and walked across the hall to her room.
Dizzy was slumbering quietly at the end of the bed. She had set throw pillows along the foot of the sleigh bed, and he seemed more content curled up on one of them than sleeping in his own bed. She left the connecting doors open all the time now, as he gave up his destructive tendencies once his chemical imbalance was controlled. She barely disturbed Dizzy when she dropped Bruce’s pillow on the bed. The deep burgundy of his pillowcase clashed horribly with the soft lilac of her bedding. She smiled. It was perhaps one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen.
Moving to the armoire, she opened it to reveal a television set. Bruce may not want one in his room, but she liked having one in hers.
Scanning her selection of DVDs, she glanced at her clock. 11:45. From what she could deduce, when Bruce left, he returned sometime around
2:00. And when he came to pay his ransom for the pillow, she smiled devilishly, there would be no movie on that would distract him from what she was obviously requesting in payment.
Grabbing up one of her favorite cult horror flicks, she put it in the
DVD player and turned the television set on. They’d equipped her room with surround sound and the speakers were actually built into the walls. Climbing into bed, she picked up Bruce’s pillow, covered herself with her lilac bedding, and settled in to watch ‘House on Haunted Hill’. The new version, not the old one. What could she say, she was a sucker for these types of flicks, and it would be over long before Bruce got home… so like she thought… he could pay his ransom.
Hugging his pillow tightly to her, she inhaled the scent of him that emanated from it. Oh yeah… ransom good… ransom very good.
*-*-*
After the car thief, he’d intercepted the perpetrator of a breaking-and-entering. He’d hand cuffed the burglar and left him sitting on the curb where he’d found him, two blocks from the house. The people’s stuff sat beside him. He was another block away when he saw the familiar flash of blue and red lights. It had been the first time he’d been that close when the cops showed up. It’d piqued his curiosity and he’d waited. Peering through the shadows, he’d seen the police cruiser stop, and Chad Harris get out with his rookie partner.
*-*-*
The first thing Bruce noticed when he stepped out of the shadows and into the bedroom, was that Grace wasn’t there. The second thing? Neither was his pillow. A cursory inspection of the room and the bed later, and he’d located Grace’s ransom note. He chuckled as he read it, and then shook his head.
She didn’t ask. She hadn’t asked once since that first morning when the realization that he’d been hurt had outweighed her desire to yell at him for causing her grief. Yet, Bruce did not kid himself. She knew he was out almost every night. The note proved it. But she still didn’t ask.
It was earlier than he’d expected, so he decided to shower first. He smelled like the streets, and it was a smell he was slowly starting to hate. He washed his body and his hair with all the herbal products Grace loved and then wrapped a big fluffy towel around his waist.
There were five long, shivering strides across the hall, where his pillow awaited with its beautiful captor.
Grace was asleep when he pushed open the door. Dizzy was curled up on the end of her bed, his furry body pressed against her leg. Her head was on her own pillow, but her arms were wrapped around his, as if she were hugging him instead of it. For a moment, he all he could do was stand there and watch.
She took his breath away, with just the simplest, most innocent look.
He eased the door closed, but the click of the latch roused Dizzy. The cat stood, stretching. He kneaded his paws on Grace’s leg and then jumped down off the bed. Bruce watched him amble into his own room, and then turned back to the bed.
Grace was stirring, slowly coming around, and the bed covers rustled as she rolled over.
She hummed softly as she roused from sleeping to awake; the DVD player was playing the thunder soundtrack from the main menu of the movie she’d been watching when she fell asleep. Her eyes opened and her vision began to focus and that’s when she saw him standing in her room.
A smile spread across her face. Hair wet and towel secured around his waist, he was indeed a vision. ”Come to pay the ransom for your pillow?” she teased, her voice still quiet with sleep. ”I see you met the first demand,” she yawned, “but the second, I’m not quite awake.”
She held his pillow more tightly. ”It smells like your shampoo.” Picking up the remote control, she turned the DVD player off… silencing the noise.
Geez, did he have any idea how good he looked in that towel? Did he know what he was doing to her just standing there, looking like he
REALLY wanted his pillow? Her smile grew even wider. “Nice towel.”
He’d started to smile when she woke up and looked at him, but now the smile bloomed into a huge grin. ”This old thing?” he asked, his hands moving along the place where the towel end tucked in to hold it in place. His fingers ghosted across that spot, as if he couldn’t decide if he should drop the towel now or tease her with it. Tease, he thought as he let his eyes travel over her. She was so gorgeous lying there: her lilac comforter and the matching sheets came just above her waist, her head rested on his burgundy pillow as she hugged it, and the movement of the hug had stretched her yellow nightgown across the curve of her breast in the most deliciously obscene way possible. He let his eyes focus there for a moment before slowly trailing upwards. His gaze lingered on her lips; at which point, he purposely licked his.
“Tell me more about this ransom,” he asked in a voice which was darkening with need.
Ooooo, teasing. She enjoyed a good tease. Slowly, she ran her leg up under the sheets until her bare knee rested protectively on the pillow. “Well,” her voice still husky but not with sleep, “the first thing I think you should do is lose that towel. I should really get a good look at what I’m exchanging this wonderful pillow for.” She bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. ”Then I think it’s all up to you.” She smiled widely, moving from hugging the pillow to lying on her back and making a point of stretching to put the pillow under her head. The silk of her nightgown brushed against her sensitive breasts, teasing her nipples. There was a reason why she loved silk… this was it. ”How badly do you want it?” she asked softly.
“Looks like I’ve met demand number two,” he commented in a growl of voice. ”You’re…” His eyes rested on her breast where the silk did little to hide tightening nipples. “Very awake.”
His fingers slid underneath the towel and it dropped to the floor, pooling at his feet. He’d have joined her then, but she said she wanted to see what she was getting, so he waited until the feel of her eyes devouring him became too hot to bear, and he eased slowly on to the foot of the bed on his hands and knees.
He bent his head for a moment, but raised it, and the eyes that met hers were filled with a hunger only she could satisfy. But still, he waited, intensely watching.
Oh damn! Now why did he have to go and look at her like THAT?! He knew, without a doubt, what looking at her like that did to her. Her entire body flushed with heat. Still, she kept her hands between her head and the pillow. She often likened him to a tiger… the sleek, beautiful hunter that expertly stalked its prey. And when he looked at her like that, she knew she was being hunted. It thrilled her on a level that she’d only experienced with him.
Her hips moved suggestively, though it was actually of their own accord and not because it was a planned seduction. She’d simply wanted to get him in here… making him VERY happy to be home again. And as her eyes drank him in greedily, she knew she’d succeeded. But unlike Nature’s conclusion of predator catching prey, when he caught her it was going to be nothing but ecstasy. Her eyes held his, drinking in everything he was expressing in them. Good Lord was it possible to have an orgasm just from the way someone was looking at you?!
Continuing to watch her, never breaking the contact between their eyes, he slowly moved forward on the bed. As he went, his fingers buried in the bedspread, pulling it down. Each movement revealed more of her exquisite body. She was utterly wanton: body trembling beneath the weight of his gaze. Wanting him as much as he wanted her. It was a sight he could look at forever and still want more of.
He moved closer, kicking the bedspread to the foot of the bed. He didn’t look back to see if fell off or stayed there. His eyes were on her, and her alone, as he crawled up her body. Skin eased over silk, pushing it up very deliberately. His hands caught the fabric and pulled it up, forcing her to move her arms away from her head.
And then the nightgown joined the bedspread as he straddled her more fully. When his hips moved again, it was to scoot up, placing him in a good position to… Oh, yes, he knew what her body wanted.
“Is this the kind of ransom you had in mind?” he asked huskily, leaning in to whisper the words against the shell of her ear. His tongue snaked out, wetting her where his words had kissed her skin. When she shivered, the tremors ran through her and into him.
“Ran… rans…” She swallowed hard trying to force herself to think clearly. ”Oh yes.” It was all she could manage to say as her hands reached out and grabbed his forearms, running slowly up to his shoulders where her nails dug into the flesh. The heat of his body radiated to hers and all she could do was shiver in anticipation.
She turned her head and her lips attached on to whatever flesh of his she could find. His ear, cheek, jaw, and finally she gained enough presence of mind to put her hands in his still damp hair and brought his lips to hers in a crushing kiss. She was going completely on reaction here… reaction and need. Ransom… what ransom? She could easily devour him, wondering just how intense this kiss could become because of the mental picture of him stalking toward her.
She shivered again, angled her head and found it was possible to deepen the kiss. When they finally had to break for air, and both were having difficulty breathing, she ran her thumb along his swollen bottom lip and managed to say, “Yeah, something along these lines will do.” She shivered again for emphasis.
“Will… it… now?” he asked between little gasps of breath. ”Or something like this… perhaps?” He rocked into her a little, causing sensitive places to rub together. He claimed her mouth again before she could answer, greedily tasting her lips. Her hands once again buried in his hair, and at the same time, she arched up against him, creating more friction between their bodies.
The way she felt against him was a paradox. It was sweet and hot and wonderfully naughty and perfectly heavenly all at the same time. It was also driving him crazy with desire. Pulling away from another searing kiss, he looked down at her, needing to see her eyes.
She found it utterly amazing how the depth of their intimacy left them completely unabashed. They rarely, if ever, broke eye contact. Through foreplay, the actual act of making love, and then the climax, they would maintain eye contact. There was hardly ever a moment when they closed their eyes, when they shut that part of themselves off. It was always a joining of their souls as well as their bodies.
But of course, it was the body that was doing the driving right now.
Her arms dropped around his neck and one leg lifted to slowly wrap around his waist. With the slight lifting of her hips, she was able to bring about the slightest brush of contact between the most sensitive parts of their bodies. She gasped, meaning for it to drive him forward, to fire his need, instead she fired her own. She pulled away to lift up again, repeating the sensation. A small smile spread across her face and into her eyes. Oh… so good, so delicious, and so desirable. And it was all wrapped in a package that could get her extremely hot from just a look. His eyes holding hers and telling her… ‘I want you.’ Lord help her, she wanted him too.
Grace was moving against him, rising so their bodies’ touches were rolling waves of pleasure. He let the waves come –let her love wash over him, through him. Then he met her arching movements with his own, sliding into the warmth she offered up to him… At the same time, he kissed her, swallowing both their gasps of pleasure in a deep kiss. He needed this, needed her. Her fingernails slid down his back, and Bruce had little doubt there would be scratches in the morning. He didn’t care. All he cared about… All he cared about was going deeper, feeling her around him, in his soul, in his heart… and giving her the same.
But, oh sweet god, it was so amazing! He’d never understood it, but being with her never got old or familiar, no matter how long they’d been together. Each joining was unique and fantastic. It never ceased to blow him away completely.
Rocking into her, he pulled away from the kiss, again, to find her eyes. He loved seeing her face. It was so expressive, and the most beautiful sight in the world to Bruce was her face as her climax took her. Like falling apart and coming together all at once. Birth and rebirth. He wanted to see it every time, for the rest of his life.
Love, in its purest and simplest form. What drove her to completion was the love she felt for and from this man. He was in her now, moving slowly, almost imperceptively except for the electrical shock waves that were crashing over her. The one place where their bodies could join and become one, and yet… He moved again and she let his name fall from her lips. And yet it was as their eyes held and the slight movements gave way to ones a bit harder and minutely faster, that she gave her entire being over. Let herself be engulfed by him.
The world narrowed down to just them. Nothing existed to her but their bodies, hearts, and souls. The special connection that melded them together and made them one person. And it was like this every time for them. It was never simply a physical act. The lust would sometimes drive them to a hasty joining, but in the end it would always be about so much more.
As he levered himself up a bit so he could begin moving in earnest, her hands explored, touching all of him she could. Feeling that he was so focused, so intent, that he was using every muscle in his body to make love to her, and she responded in kind. Her hands moved to his rear, grasping it with both hands, squeezing as she felt the muscles tighten and relax before he would thrust again.
Her eyes never left his, the contact never breaking as she met his need and love with her own. She would love him with her dying breath; she knew that beyond a doubt. She also knew that twenty years… forty years… from now, he would still be able to move her with a look… a smile… a simple caress. He would move her, as he was moving within her now. Love, bliss, and euphoria… It never ebbed for them… it never would.
His eyes darkened even more as he upped the tempo again… a slow progression borne of sheer will power. She urged him on, her hips meeting his, her legs spreading just enough to allow him deeper penetration. To fill her completely. And still they watched one another… making the experience that much more intimate… that much more spiritual.
Wave after of wave of something so much more than mere pleasure washed over Bruce with each quickening thrust. Her touches set fire to his skin, and her eyes mesmerized and held him. Bruce had never felt so alive as when they were in this place. Not the physical place –the room they were in– but the space created by their two bodies joining. It was like the great vaulted churches of ancient times, only not tangible. A metaphysical cathedral where they were each both the priest and the worshipper.
Bruce wasn’t religious –he hadn’t been since his parents died– but if one religion existed for him right now, it was Grace. The ritual dance of their love sanctified them, blessed them. And yet, he knew the dance was ending soon. He felt it growing steadily within him even as he felt her body tightening in similar preparation.
His movements sped up now to an almost frantic pace. The thrusts were harder, his breath short and labored. The world shook, and Bruce was no longer sure if the trembling was his or Grace’s. They’d melted together in the heat of this precious moment.
She cried out; she was sure of it. What she said or how loudly she said it was completely lost to her. All she knew at that moment was him and the fulfillment of their most basic needs… the explosive conclusion to their lovemaking. He cried out too, though in her pleasure fogged mind, she was sure it was her name that he said. Just hearing it, hearing his voice at this moment… seeing the look on his face as he found the release he so desperately needed, her entire body shook with the joy of it.
When it finally subsided, he let himself all but collapse upon her.
Neither one breathing very steadily, but still, she managed to lightly caress his back, surprised she could even move. She did smile. She loved this moment as well, when he would lie on top of her, pressing his full weight upon her. She felt cocooned, treasured, enveloped by his heat. It was precious to her.
She said nothing, not wanting to break the magical bubble that had formed around them; so instead, she turned her head slightly and placed a kiss on his cheek. It was the first bit of his face she came in contact with, and she kissed it again because she could.
When Bruce’s breathing steadied, and only then, he rolled off her and pulled her gently into his embrace. She snuggled in, her head resting against his sweat-sheened chest. The air about them was cooling, but the blanket was still at the foot of the bed. He didn’t think he could have the strength, but he used his foot to move the blanket up to where his fingers could reach it. Pulling it up, he wrapped it around them, and then nestled back into the bed.
“I love you,” he whispered in the cozy darkness. The words came easily to him, but Bruce remembered a time in his life when saying them aloud had been impossible. He’d remembered how amazed he was that Lex could say it so freely. Love, to Bruce, had never been that easy. And though he said them freely now, he meant them more today than he did the first day, and would mean them more tomorrow, and the next day, than he did today. It was something he knew with a certainty: his love for her would only continue to grow.
She smiled against his chest, snuggling next to him and under the very warm covers. To have this… now… was more than she could have ever hoped, dreamed or imagined. To think that there was a time in her life when giving herself completely to someone had scared her to her very core. It had frightened her to the point where she ended up
pushing the other person away because she didn’t know how else to cope with it. He’d understood, and though his heart… and hers… had been broken, they’d found a way to remain friends.
But Bruce… he was a complete and total surrender. He was everything to her. And with him, what would frighten her to the core was NOT having forever. She placed a small kiss on his chest before settling happily back in, covering half his body with her own in her desire for closeness. ”I love you, too,” she said in response, knowing she meant
it with her entire being, knowing that it was a feeling that would never scare her… only lead her to feeling even more.
As if sensing his human was going back to sleep, Dizzy came back into the room. Grace had one leg bent so that it rested just between Bruce’s. The other… well there was just enough space between Bruce’s and Grace’s for Dizzy to circle around several times and use his paws to pool enough blanket so that he could happily go back to
sleep. It was nice and warm in this particular spot, and soon the sounds of the cat sleeping mingled with the soft and steady breathing of the other occupants in the room.
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Continue in Chapter Seven
